Intimate and Interactive....

Up here in Canada, we have a vast wealth of musical talent. The trouble is, most of it isn't always recognized by our neighbours to the South. Yep, I'm pointing at you United States. The ones that do get recognized in a big way aren't necessarily our most talented, and not even close to being the best we have to offer. They're just the ones that have a gimmick, or a connection somewhere in the American music industry.


Some examples of Canadian musicians/singers/rappers that have made it big south of the border are Drake (ick), Nickleback (but with a horrid reputation now), RUSH (that took FOREVER), Avril Lavigne (that's another paragraph altogether), Justin Bieber (or however you spell his name - yes I care THAT much), Hedley (well deserved) - that's just to name a few.

But for every act that manages to make it through to the US charts, there are at least ten who don't. They might hit the airwaves once in awhile, but only in border towns like Detroit, Buffalo, etc.

One prime example of this is the gentleman I went to see last night. His sweet, sultry tones first hit my ears back in 1988 with the song Five Long Years. His name is Colin James. And he isn't just an amazing singer and musician - this man is HOT to boot.

Now, I could post all his stats here - but instead I'll link to his Wiki page for you to puruse at your convenience. I figured I'd post this picture instead.

For my Styx chyx - doesn't he resemble a certain bass player that has taken his leave of the band? Anyway, I won tickets to a live taping for CMT last night - only about 100 people. We filmed on the roof of the Corus building. What a view!

I neeeeeed to get me a job THERE. Anyway, the rest of the pictures are on the camera, so they're not uploaded yet.

The last time I saw Colin in concert was about five years ago, and I was doing security for the Waterfront Festival. Well, he has improved with age. I honestly don't know what to say about him, or the show, or the music. I'm currently a bundle of babble on this topic. I know that when the show airs, and you see me, chances are I'm either taking a picture or trying to figure out my damn camera. LOL.

I know I say this a lot, but truthfully, the man is sex personified. The combination of his silky voice, with the way he plays that guitar, and the killer smile which knocks me on my ass had me needing a) a cold shower b) a change of underwear and c) a really good session with my vibrator.

I spent a lot of time envisioning what I would do with that man if ever given the chance. And then I decided I was going to write about it. But I couldn't develop the right angle. Which made me think of A Little Night Music by my amazingly talented friend Sarah Dale.

So, since I don't need to be too eloquent to pimp her out, I figured it would be easier than attempting to articulate exactly what was going through my mind (and my groin) last night. It was mostly just sounds anyway - something along the lines of hummina hummina hummina nom nom nom whooooa baby.

This book is every music fans fantasy. It is everything you ever dream about when you think of your favourite singer/guitarist/drummer/etc etc etc.

Here's a review from Amazon.com

Music for My Soul

This is one fantastic read from beginning to end.

Every girl who has ever crushed on a musician will not only relate to the character of Hannah (I was able to see myself in her), they'll be able to appreciate her growth and the obstacles to overcome.

And Nate - wow. He's every rock star that's ever existed. So well written, he could be any number of crushes that have existed in the history of rock and roll.

When these two characters come together, the intensity and heat between them jumps right off the pages. But it's not just sexual. There's an internal chemistry, a true understanding between them that transcends the physical.

The background research is extensive and really delves into what life on the road is like for musicians. While I would classify this as erotica, I would recommend it to those who aren't into the genre.

An awesome story, and a must read (and must own). 

I happen to know that the cover is being re-vamped and it is going to look GORGEOUS. But in the mean time, pick this one up for your collection.

Along the same lines, but yet so different, is Olivia Cunning's Backstage Pass. Here's a review from that one.

Backstage Pass ROCKED my world!

Backstage Pass was so much more than your typical erotica romance book. Backstage Pass had a lot of great banter, humor, romance, music and obviously plenty of hot sex scenes. Olivia Cunning was able to encompass everything that I imagined to happen while on tour with a famous rock band. In real life, Cunning is a huge rock music fan and it shows in her writing. I was really impressed with her knowledge of music, instruments and song writing. Excuse my pun but Backstage Pass totally ROCKED and if you're wanting a fun, exciting and hot read then you'll have to add this to the top of your to be read list.

So there you go. If you combine both these books, you'll know EXACTLY what was going through my mind last night. It would be giving a WHOLE NEW MEANING  to Intimate and Interactive. And poor Mr. James didn't have a clue. Probably a good thing.

I don't need another restraining order.  LOL.

On that note, I leave you with this song that makes my knees turn to jelly and does gooey things to my insides. The song that started it all way back when (this is a live version from last year, so it's almost as good as last nights):

Naughty Number 69

Isn't it beautiful? The lovely editors at Harlequin Spice have done it again. An amazing cover to go with an amazing line-up of writers (and me). It's currently available on Kindle for those with one, or with the app for iPhone/iPad etc. etc. etc. My story - Naked Lunch - appears alongside the wonderful authors below.


Countdown by Violet Blue
The Kitchen Kink by Alison Tyler
Hare Coursing by Janine Ashbless
Pulse by Vida Bailey
Speed Mating by Sophia Valenti
Permission by Justine Elyot
Star Fucker by John Albert
The Redi-Wash by Jax Baynard
Selections from a Bedroom Closet by Thomas S. Roche
Dress Rehearsal by Sommer Marsden
Good Cop, Bad Cop (a story) by Kristina Lloyd
Come at Six by Portia Da Costa
Plus One by Nikki Magennis
I Dare You by Emma Hillman
Two Ways by Dante Davidson
Manners by Georgia E. Jones
Another Country Heard From by Eric Williams
Frosted Kisses by Vida Bailey
Summoned by Raziel Moore
His by Charlotte Stein
Talk to the Hand by Allison Wonderland
Three Days by Cate Robertson
Reclamation by Willsin Rowe
Open by Donna George Storey
Frozen by Aisling Weaver
The Welcome Wagon by Sophia Valenti
Hot Cross Buns by Shanna Germain
Granny Panties by Sommer Marsden
Touchless by Alison Tyler
Cast Party by Jeremy Edwards
Fall Back by N.T. Morley
Love, Honor and Obey by Janine Ashbless
Permissive by Justine Elyot
Hot in the City by Saskia Walker
Add It Up by Nikki Magennis
Crossed by Dante Davidson
The Funeral by Georgia E. Jones
Floating in Blue by Teresa Noelle Roberts
Suite Surprise by Cate Robertson
Shoulders by Donna George Storey
Saturday by Willsin Rowe
Based on a True Story by Kristina Lloyd
The Barest Offering by Aisling Weaver
Hers by Charlotte Stein
Translation by Sommer Marsden
Dessert by Sophia Valenti
Skill by Aisling Weaver
Attic Moment by Janine Ashbless
Satisfied Customers by Ashley Lister
Closing Distance by Raziel Moore
Friends in Need by Saskia Walker
Homecoming by Willsin Rowe
The Long Afternoon by N.T. Morley
Naked Lunch by Angell Brooks
Just a Kiss Away by Thomas S. Roche
Goes by Sommer Marsden
Waking the Neighbors by Heidi Champa
Ours by Charlotte Stein
Mathematics by Nikki Magennis
Laplanders by Jeremy Edwards
Slave Market in Monochrome by Kristina Lloyd
In the Cold with You by Victoria Janssen
Listen by Emma Hillman
Come at Nine by Portia Da Costa
The Eskimo Game by Donna George Storey
Reflection by Saskia Walker
Permitted by Justine Elyot
Never Alone by Alison Tyler
Every Dollar by N.T. Morley
A is for Anal, Z is for Zenith by Shanna Germain
How Early? By Thomas Roche


It never ceases to amaze me how I wind up in such amazing company. If you haven't already visited these wonderful people (most of whom are in my sidebar), please take the time to check them out. I promise you, you will NOT be disappointed.

And when you buy, and like what you read, please drop a review on Amazon for us. It's a wonderful thing to read that people appreciate what we write.

Love to all my hotties & heaux!



PS - thanks to the Bond-man. He knows why. *wink*

Overwhelmed....

There's the old joke. You can feel underwhelmed, you can feel overwhelmed, but can you ever feel just ... whelmed? What is WHELMED anyway?

Ok, so it's not very funny. But every time I think I'm overwhelmed I think of that. It's an automatic thing, something I wish I could just turn off. But anyway I digress.

So I'm in the final stretch for the current class I'm in - one more week until my final class and my final project is due. I have more of an understanding of what I'm supposed to be doing and I think I can pull this off. So I'm not so panicked about that.

I also have started doing this thing called "going to the gym". A foreign concept for sure, but I hear it'll help me lose weight and get healthier. And healthier is my aim for the long haul. But hey - if I can quit smoking cold turkey (been 39 days and going strong), I figure I can hunt down my "get-up-and-go" and get rid of this extra person I keep hauling around with me. I'm feeling confident for the first time in, what feels like decades.

Of course this comes in waves. Last night I was tossing and turning thinking of everything I needed to accomplish before I take a weekend away in August. There's the deadline for Sommer Marsden's anthology Coming Together: Hungry for Love with all proceeds to go towards the American Diabetes Association. I'm halfway through my submission, but I'm not sure I'm going to make the deadline. And then there's the call for short-shorts from the lovely Trollop with a Laptop, Alison Tyler. Those are due by August 15.

SIGH.

And then there are personal projects that I've set some self-imposed deadlines for.  Not to mention the day-to-day tasks that make up the business of living.

So you see, overwhelmed is exactly what I am right now. But, like the smoking, and this fat suit that I am (temporarily) wearing, I will get through this with flying colours.

Got something in the works kids. Stay tuned, because it's HOT.

An Introduction...

Of sorts anyway.

I would like to take today to welcome the newcomers to my audience. I know you're out there. And I hope that you enjoy Chicago. *wink*

I'm a busy bee today - the Queen of Procrastination as always.

Project for class - worth 30% of my grade. Due tomorrow - and yet not started. I do have to work tonight. ICK. But since I had all last week off the night job, I need the hours. Of course I could have turned down last nights show, but WHY would I want to do that?

I NEVER miss these guys when they come to town. Usually, it's at our home venue and a bunch of the staff buy lawn tickets, take the shift off and party our faces off. But since it wasn't at our home venue, and tickets were rather pricey - I decided to take the shift.

After all, there was no way I was missing this line up.

80's rock chick all the way. Talk about heaven! Seeing, for the first time, the rock goddess legend herself Lita Ford (who's drummer Scot Coogan was a HOOT -

Hey Scot! - try not to lose anything else ok?) was incredible. And as always, seeing Bret, C.C., Bobby and Rikki tear up the stage during their set was phenomenal. But no D.L. show would be complete without me practically drowning in my own - ahem - juices, when the Abs take the stage. That's right - this man here

Phil Collen. I don't need to know how much work goes into keeping those abs in that condition. I don't want to know. All I want to say is THANK YOU. 


BUT, what made my night was when C.C. walked by, and I said to him "Excellent set tonight C.C." and he replied with "Thanks angel. It's good to hear once in awhile."

SQUEEEEEE!

By the wayyyyy, and a NOTE TO ALL CONCERT / THEATRE MERCHANDISERS: Women have big breasts. Whether through Mother Nature or by our own choice/fault - we've got 'em. Can you PLEASE make the cute t-shirts in OUR SIZES???? The XXL of the t-shirt *I* wanted to buy last night barely fit over my head. Try using REAL WOMEN as models before you churn them out. This happens at every show I go to. The cute t-shirts fit the Barbie dolls. Those of us who are a little plumper or just have a DD chest or bigger are stuck wearing the men's shirts. And while they are appealing, they are more appealing ON MEN.

Capice?

Anyway, back to welcoming our new friends. If you're following from the road, I promise to try and not bore you to death. Check out the past posts - I promise they'll keep you *ahem* up at night. And keep checking back for new stories - you might see some people you know.

*wink*

Rock and Roll baby - ROCK AND ROLLLLLLL!

Above image found at  http://www.thoburnillustrations.com

Feelings...nothing more than...feeeeeelings...

Hi kids. I'm frustrated. Mostly with myself, but a little bit with life.

See, I haven't written anything in so long, and I mean ANYTHING. It used to be I was writing daily - maybe not posting anything, but it used to be that I had notebooks everywhere, filled with pages with snippets and character sketches, and plot points, and - well, you get my drift.

And if it wasn't creative, it was just venting. Even the most mundane things I would vent about. Usually the same shit - my weight, my life, my job, my family, etc. But at least it was writing. These days, I sit down (butt in chair - check), in front of the computer (hands on keyboard - check)...and promptly switch over to wasting time and distractions such as Facebook, Twitter, or the newest thing to catch my attention - Pinterest.

At this very moment, I should probably be working on a project for class on Thursday night. Because this is my only time to work on it. I mean, I have to work both jobs tomorrow, both jobs on Wendesday, and then by Thursday it's due. GLEEP. Do I have a damn clue what I'm doing?

Of course not.

I'm losing focus on my life. I was supposed to go to the gym today, to kick off my whole new "taking care of myself" cycle of life. I mean, I'm a month done on my smoking. Quit cold turkey and feeling good about that decision. I picked up my heart meds from the pharmacy yesterday and started taking them again this morning. Yay. But when it came to leaving the job to go to the gym, I drove right past my cut-off and came home.

To sit on the couch and watch tv.

I'm feeling like shit. I'm mentally exhausted. But when I go to bed at night, I come up with some amazing ideas for stories or books or even blog entries. But at that point, I'm too exhausted to even reach into my bedside drawer and grab the pen & notebook I have sitting there, just for that sort of thing. So I go to sleep, promising myself I'll remember in the morning.

Yeah, well, a dream about John Barrowman (Hell-O Captain Jack) or Lawrence Gowan (but *I* can call him Larry) and I'm all distracted when I wake up in the morning - totally forgetting what I had promised myself I would remember.

I'll reiterate - it's frustrating.

I'd love to have a dozen or more extremely creative excuses as to why this is happening to me but the truth is just as revealing, if not comforting or exciting. I'm giving up - on everything. And this isn't a "poor Miz Angell - life's so tough." type of post. It's a matter of fact.

There are days I feel it's just not worth it. I work two jobs, am not really important enough to count at either, and neither will pay the bills. I sort of enjoy one because I have friends I get to see, but even that is a little downer, because they're all the important people. So while I sit and guard a gate that no one uses, they're running around, dealing with the public and doing what needs to be done. Talk about feeling useless.

And then there's the whole personal life thing - which is just one big old mess that I can't get into. Let's just say I should have let mom send me to the nunnery when she wanted to. At least Jesus doesn't break your heart.

And then I read books on my Kindle that have been published and I wonder "WTF?" Because some of them out there are so bad...and then I remember, art, writing, music - they're all subjective. And it's a good thing because if we all liked the same art, music, writing, movies etc. - life would be boring.

I can tell I'm getting tired because this is starting to wander a little. I have to pick mum up at the airport. She's been in New Orleans for a week, and I envy her (the trip and time away, not the god-forsaken heat). I could use a little time away. But who's got the time or the money to take the vacation?

Certainly not this girl.

Anyway my friends (and that's pretty much all who's reading this anyway), thank you for letting me bare my soul for a bit. I apologize if it's brought your evening down. I promise to try to do better next time.

X's & O's....

Short, Shweet and Shexay!

It's really hot here in the city - I mean we're reaching record temperatures with the humidity, and all I want to do is lie on a couch, in a cool house, and veg out. Maybe drink something lovely and icy - margaritas anyone?

But, whilst surfing this morning, I came across a fact - today is International Short Story Day. Where - and I quote - On the shortest night of the year, June 20th 2012, writers, readers and publishers are again joining forces to celebrate the short story on International Short Story Day. (see above link for events around the world).

I noticed that some of my fellow erotica authors are putting up a selected short for FREE on Kindle. Which I would LOVE to do.

HOWEVER...since I currently have not published anything as a solo, there's nothing on Kindle to offer for free. But here, in my house, in my own playroom, I can post something that's never been posted (or read) before.

So, in celebration of I.S.S.D., I give to you, my lovely readers

Her Own Rabbit Hole

Alice was looking for excitement. She was looking for adventure.

Here, in this club, she found it.

A single glance from icy green eyes, a flash of silver as a pierced pink tongue darted out to lick the salt off the neck in front of her. Alice couldn’t keep her eyes off the vision across the bar as she bent over to take the shot glass from her companion’s ample cleavage. Her auburn hair flicked back with feline ferocity as she swallowed the golden liquid. As the two girls shared the lemon, their lips meeting ever so briefly, Alice wished she had worn panties as she felt herself get damp.

The gothic beauties were spectacular. As their eyes met again, this time joined by the other girls - a set of violet pools - Alice felt herself puff out her chest, in a silent offering. Her tits strained against her corset - bought just for her virgin voyage into the gothic underground - and her breathing became laboured as the girls linked fingers, strutting across the crowded floor.

The first, tall and lithe, had small, perky breasts and clearly wore no bra under the thin t-shirt that hung off one white shoulder. Her curvy companion smirked as they approached. Alice squirmed as those four eyes pinned her in place. When they stopped in front of her, the tall one caressed Alice’s hair, continuing down her arm with the lightest touch.

"You new here sunshine?" Her voice was soft and harsh at the same time. Alice could only nod, her breath caught in her throat as hands touched her in the most innocent of ways. "Looking for some fun?" Without waiting for her obvious reply, they each took Alice’s hands, leading her to the darkest corner of the room. Pinpricks of red LED lights were embedded in the walls, like bloody stars. But there was no other light. On unsteady legs, Alice gripped the girls hands tighter.

“Sit down.” The words were just a whisper in her ear as she collapsed against a leather sofa. The cushions on either side of her sighed. With no introductions, and no warning, Alice’s thighs were pulled apart. One set of fingers stroked the insides, moving towards her swollen lips. Another hand reached in her corset, baring her left breast. A mouth closed around her nipple, causing a gasp. Moisture pooled in her hole as the phantom fingers traced patterns over her bare skin.

"What's your name?" The disembodied words came from her right. "A-Al-Alice." She stuttered."Alice." the thin one purred. "I'm Serena. The one with the huge tits is Danielle."

Silence for a second, that felt like eternity. Then Serena whispered again. “Five minutes. That’s all you’ve got little girl. Five minutes to come. If you don’t, we leave. If you do, maybe you’ll get more.” Alice moaned as she felt a slender finger slide up inside her. A second, and a third were added. Alice’s hips thrust up as they fucked her, slowly at first. “Harder.” She whispered. The fingers pounded in harder and faster. Alice cried out, her juices flowing down the girls hand. 

Her mind raced. She was new at this - she didn't have a clue what to do! But she felt if she didn't do something, the girls would quickly lose interest. Tentatively, she reached out, finding Danielle's thigh. She ran her hand up, finding no barrier between her fingers and the girls clit. She lightly stroked the hard bud, feeling her shudder.

Her fingers slid down the girls slit, inserting themselves into her wet hole. She fucked her in rhythm with the fingers in her cunt. She felt her fingers being clamped down on, like a vice, and her muscles followed, trapping Serena's hand.

Alice's hand was being rode hard by her curvy friend. But Serena's fingers inside Alice changed rhythm, curving forward, stroking at her front wall, over a sensitive spot Alice hadn't known existed. She quickly began to shudder, losing all interest in what she was doing, instead concentrating on what was being done to her. 

The heat began building in her belly, coiling like a snake ready to strike. It moved in waves up her body, setting her nerves on fire. And when she thought she couldn't take anymore, like she would pass out from the sheer intensity of it all, Serena dropped to her knees in front of her. 

Caught up in the moment, Alice didn't notice. But when the tip of a tongue flicked out at her clit, she exploded with a scream, which was quickly swallowed by a kiss from Danielle. As she was being assaulted by tongues in both holes, Alice came over, and over. More than she had before; more than she'd thought possible.

Danielle's cunt gushed into Alice's palm, bringing her back to reality. As she continued to finger her, Danielle moaned against her mouth. "That's it bitch." Alice was shocked to hear her own voice, gutteral and violent to her own ears. "Come for me now."

A quiet beeping penetrated Alice's ears, and suddenly she was left alone. She felt around her, looking for Serena or Danielle, but her hands found empty air instead. Biting her lip to keep from crying, she struggled to her feet. Her juices ran down the insides of her thighs, her skirt wrinkled, her corset askew.

She stayed in the darkness, feeling bereft, as she straightened her clothing. Obviously she hadn't satisfied them enough. 

But she'd wanted adventure. Somewhere, she thought that might include a gentle lover - romance even. But tonight, there was no time for gentle. There was no time for romance. 

This was fast, furious, frenzied fucking - and it was hotter than anything her wild child imagination could have cooked up.

She went back to the bar, her eyes bright with unshed tears, her mouth bruised and softened by the earlier onslaught. The bartender slid a shot in front of her, along with a note. She nodded her thanks, tossing back the shot. As the golden liquid burned a path down her throat, she unfolded the paper, shocked that it was from Serena. 

"Welcome to Wonderland little Alice."

©2012 Miz Angell

Psst  - see that pretty picture? I don't own it - found it on the interwebz.

Hold me through the night...

Well, morning, noon AND night that is. I am completely, totally, UTTERLY thrilled to share with you, my (few) readers that I am appearing in yet ANOTHER Alison Tyler anthology. This one, from Cleiss Press, brings you through twenty-four kinky, hot, fun, fuckable hours. Check out the cover - isn't it just gorgeous?

And I am humbled to appear between these pages with such amazing company. Check out the lineup.

24/7 by Aisling Weaver
4 a.m. Wake-Up Call by Jax Baynard
5 a.m. Walk of Shame by Dante Davidson
6 a.m. Coffee by Heidi Champa
7 a.m. Change of Shift by Cheyenne Blue
8 a.m. Morning Wood by Georgia E. Jones
9 a.m. Office Briefing by Justine Elyot
10 a.m. Kickoff by Donna George Storey
11 a.m. Elevenses by Jeremy Edwards
Noon: Lunchtime Rendezvous by Kat Watson
1 p.m. Test Drive by Angell Brooks
2 p.m. Biker Bar by Thomas Roche
3 p.m. Closed-Door Meeting by Sasha White
4 p.m. No Show by Cora Zane
5 p.m. Somewhere by Kristina Lloyd
6 p.m. The After-Dinner Hour by Sommer Marsden
7 p.m. Kinky Craft Night by Teresa Noelle Roberts
8:00 p.m. Appointment Tee Vee by Victoria Janssen
9 p.m. Victoria Coach Station by Kate Pearce
10 p.m. Portraits by Preston Avery
11 p.m. Strip Poker by Ashley Lister
Midnight: Movie Date by N.T. Morley
1 a.m. Girls’ Night Out by Vida Bailey
2 a.m. Date Night by Sophia Valenti
3 a.m. Last Call by Alison Tyler

Sexy, sultry and seductive. Which hour is yours?