The Shame of Black Friday

I work in retail. Luckily, I work in a place where 5am Black Friday deals aren’t the norm. I have done exactly three Black Friday shopping sprees in my lifetime. One I stood in line at Circuit City for a few things–and calmly read a book while waiting in line. The second was Target. Again I entertained myself by reading a book and I wove through the store in an impossible line hoping I didn’t pee myself. The third was Best Buy for a few things. Guess what I was doing while I waited? Each time, I wasn’t going for the television or computer deals. I had specific things I wanted and I got them all without the madness. Heck, I went to the local Game Stop at midnight for a PS3 for my son ten minutes before they opened and beat the crowd because most people huddled in their cars because it was cold. Pfft … I’ve been to football games colder than that night was.

burrowt’s been a long time since I went to anything resembling the Black Friday Madness. This year I went to Petsmart to get a few things to spoil my kitties–after I my workday had ended. So I went in around 4pm and got everything–and then some–that I wanted. I even got some good deals at Michaels.

The problem I have with Black Friday is the commercialism it represents. Like if I don’t get a 100″ LED TV for $200 I’m not the best gift giver in the world. Well fuck that shit, people. Since when does waving an invisible Black Friday boner make you a better gift giver? Yes, I know that us being consumers helps create jobs and whatnot but it also creates utter chaos. Is this the legacy you want to leave your children? It’s okay to bowl someone over and injure them to get the last My Little Pony or whatever the latest trend is this year? (And fuck you, Microsoft… I’m not buying your latest Xbox console, you soul-sucking sonsofbitches) Does it make you a bad person because you didn’t give the best gifts? (Suck my ass, Sony. You’re not getting my money either)

And don’t think I’m going to get all religious about this either with the ‘reason for the season’ BS. Sure I go to church and I participate in my choir but I’m not going to get preachy. It’s a bit hypocritical considering what I write. Well, to some it would be. I just want this crap to stop and for us to treat each other the way we want ourselves to be treated. This guy got it right, IMO. No one is more important than anyone else.

Don’t worry about what someone else is doing with their life or how big their pile is under the tree. Learn to appreciate all that you have, not all that you want. You’d be surprised how much of a burden will be lifted from your shoulders. The only one that can royally fuck up your shit is you.

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Miss Simpkin’s School: Flora by Raven McAllan

Please welcome Raven McAllan back to The Eclectic Zaftig Chick with another saucy book.

Miss_S-Flora_coverMiss Simpkins’ School. Where seduction’s the game, and success is the aim. Let your classes commence.

Are you ready? Do you need to attend? Flora did. She knew what she wanted but not how to get it. Luckily Molly Simpkins was around.

Ex mistress to an Earl, who better than Molly Simpkins to show Flora how to ensure she gets what she needs from her marriage?

Flora’s intended has idea she doesn’t agree with. Fraser thinks she should be happy to live at their Scottish estate whilst he spends his time in London.

It may be the way of the ton, but it isn’t going to be Flora’s way. This is her chance to show Fraser what he’d miss if he leaves her alone. There’s only one thing, she doesn’t know how.

Luckily Miss Simpkins does.

Flora might be naive, but no so naïve that she didn’t know there was more to life than Fraser was proposing. She’d heard the rumors and wanted to see for herself. So she turns to Molly for advice, and the book is all about how she puts that advice into practice.

Does she succeed? Ah well you’ll have to read the book to find out, but here’s a wee tease to let you decide…

“May I say, how,” Fraser hesitated and Flora grinned. She hadn’t missed the flash of surprise, and the gleam of what she rather thought was sexual awareness in his eyes when he saw the way she was dressed, even though he had masked it. That brief glimpse of what she hoped was interest boded well. Now it was time to put her plan into action. Over by the window, Tilly nodded and fanned herself, a signal the coast was clear.

“How?” she asked. She moved her shoulders slightly, and her dress slid across her breasts, drawing his glance there. Flora took a deep breath so they swelled above the low neckline.

“Pardon?” He sounded distracted.

Good, now to move. “You said ‘how’, and stopped,” Flora replied in what she hoped was a playful voice. “How many eggs in the basket? How am I? How long have I been waiting?” She leaned toward him, and made sure her neckline gaped just enough to hint at the rest of her creamy skinned breasts, and showed the barest hint of a dusky nipple. “Or, how does this dress stay across my bosom and not reveal more?”

“All of those,” Fraser said, and took her arm. “What are you playing at, Flora? That dress is almost indecent.”

She laughed and began to walk across the room toward a door on the far side. He caught up to walk by her side, and tucked her arm firmly into his. Most people were in the main ballroom, and they were able to make good progress. The predatory look she’d spied in his eyes on more than one occasion directed at someone else was focused on her. It sent the most delicious shivers along her spine. At least she’d engaged his interest. Now all she had to do was keep it.

“Only almost, my lord? How sad, I was aiming for totally.” She kept her voice light. “Next time perhaps.” She held her breath. Pfft, I seem to be doing a lot of this silly, second-guessing, waiting and scarcely breathing rubbish. I hope it isn’t needed for long. Trying to be a femme fatale was wearying. Would he continue with what Molly had described as sex-banter? Flora had never been so bold before, and had no idea how Fraser would respond.

“What game are you playing?” Fraser stopped next to the door Flora had aimed for.

“Game?” She did her best to look innocent. By the way his eyes narrowed and gleamed, Flora wasn’t sure she’d succeeded. “No game, my lord, I assure you.” She moved her legs to make the gown fall in the way Molly had described. It showed a flash of leg and garter through one very fine layer of cloth.

Fraser’s grip on her arm tightened and he laughed softly. “Playing with fire, Flora. Are you sure you want to carry on? I don’t know why you’re doing this or what your aim is, but for now, let’s see? Perhaps we should adjourn elsewhere for a while?” He opened the door next to them, and propelled her forward along a short corridor toward an exit at the far end. “Through here.”

Once more Flora found her arm held in an iron grip as he opened this door, walked them into a small and comfortably furnished parlor, and turned the key in the lock. “It’s to be hoped no one else has the same ideas, but at least they won’t come in and surprise us.” He walked to the windows, checked the bolts, and drew the curtains. The room was in shadow, but Flora could see enough to watch him light the lamp and adjust the wick so a soft glow bathed the area.

Even though it had been her intention to end up in the spot they occupied, Flora’s hands were clammy. What on earth made her think she could seduce a man of such experience?

*****

So there we have it. She’s eager, but apprehensive, and about to try and execute her plans. Of course Fraser has to let her. Do you think he will?

I had such fun, listening in on to their conversations and thoughts. You see I’m a pantster, and do what my characters tell me. It makes for some interesting chats with myself. I know where I think my story is going, but I’m not always correct. Luckily they agree with me we should have a happy ever after, but I tell you at times it’s a close run thing.

Anyway, if you want to see just how Flora and Fraser achieve their happy ever after, here’s the buy links:

Breathless PressAmazon US | Amazon UK |  Bookstrand | All Romance

If you want to checkout me, here’s my web. www.ravenmcallan.com

Happy reading,

Love R x

Swoop on Love by Elodie Parkes

Please welcome back Elodie Parkes. She’s got another hot number for you to get a sneak peeK and a giveaway!

Thank you for inviting me to the blog to celebrate the release of ‘Swoop on Love’ from Evernight Publishing.

I loved writing this story because of the inspiration behind it. Like my heroine, Jeanie, I found a sign post to a strangely named place and followed the country road that took me there. I didn’t find the two shifter heroes Nathan and Reed, but I did find the country restaurant that is mentioned in the story, and I passed the Christmas tree plantations that also feature in the scenery of the book.

Nathan and Reed are special characters for me. They are similar in looks but so different in personality. Nathan is alpha and the enforced restrictions on his life in recent years have taken their toll. He’s reckless, risk taking and that’s how Jeanie uncovers his secret. He inspired the title since he saw Jeanie wants her and love, and so he takes it.

Reed is gentle, sensual, and giving, but he’s also very sexy.

About ‘Swoop on Love’

Lured to the place by its intriguing name, Jeanie was to find no owls lived there, but someone or thing does…will she realize before it’s too late?

Suspense…shifters…sex…and love

Jeanie explores her new neighborhood and finds a strange little road leading to a place with an intriguing name. Owlswick. It’s Saturday and she has no plans, as usual, why not drive down this road? What she finds there is even more fascinating than the place name, and to her delight, a very attractive man lives there. Too bad he’s furious with her for taking a photograph. Why is that? What will Jeanie find when she checks the picture out at home later?

A love story, graphic sex scenes and a twist of fantasy suspense, 18+

Read an excerpt from Swoop on Love: 18+ rated

They fell into each other’s arms. Nathan pulled her close and kissed her softly. Jeanie responded to him. She pressed against him with such passion it filled him with a longing he’d not experienced for many years. He drew back from her and rested his forehead against hers. They breathed against each other for a moment before Nathan kissed her again. Down her neck, across her throat, up to her ear, where he lingered and whispered, “You’re so lovely.”

She pushed closer and he cupped her bottom, pulling her in so that she could feel his cock hard against her. It felt so good to press against her, that he lost himself in kissing her. He nibbled her bottom lip. At her gasp of desire, his stomach clenched and his cock jerked. He slid his tongue against hers and kissed her until he couldn’t breathe. Her body felt so right against his, and he savored the taste of her lips, the softness of her ass in his hands. His heart pounded and although he hadn’t set out to, he wanted it all to be real. He thrust against her, ramming her back against her car. She clung to him, murmuring low sounds of pleasure. His cock was so hard he thought he might come right then when she smoothed her hands down the back of his thighs, leaving a trail of heat through his jeans.

Purchase Links:

Amazon | Amazon UK | All Romance eBooks | Evernight Publishing | Bookstrand

About Elodie:

Elodie Parkes is a British author writing romance, erotic, contemporary, and often with a twist of mystery, paranormal or suspense. Her books are always steamy, cool stories and hot love scenes.

Elodie lives in Canterbury with her two dogs. She works in an antique shop by day and writes at night, loving the cloak of silent darkness that descends on the rural countryside around her home.

Elodie writes for, Hot Ink Press, Moon Rose Publishing, Eternal Press, and Evernight

She has also released titles as an individual indie author.

Find Elodie online: Blog  Tumblr  Facebook  Twitter  Google +  Pinterest  YouTube  Amazon USA  Amazon UK  Smashwords  Barnes and Noble  ARe

Elodie is running a giveaway for the book launch. Enter the draw via the rafflecopter with just a comment on the blog, to win a $10 or £10 Amazon gift card.

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