Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Spam I am... not

Bah. Just a test of grumpy broadcast system.

Friday, June 20, 2008

It's just an innocent article of clothing until..

On one of the loops I belong to, another author asked that we go and vote about reading romances. Well, I clicked on the link and winced, but still voted yes, because no matter what it was still a vote for something I believe in, right? Right. Then, after simmering about it for a few minutes, I hit the discussion button, commenting on my how my only choice for yes was antiquated and insulting.

However, that's not my blog, and I couldn't cut loose about the stupidity of the pollster who came up with this:

Yes! Yes! Yes! Bodice Rippers are my ultimate!

But this is my blog and I can say whatever I want. And it's this.
What freaking decade are those people living in? Bodice ripper? My grandmama read books with those beautiful painted covers that had woman bent back over the arm of the handsome brawny hero. The heroine's boobs were practically bursting out of her.. yes, I'll say it.. BODICE!

I used to like those covers because they had bright flowers, and there was usually a ship or mansion in the background, to tell you what the hero's job was in the book (ship captain aka pirate, landowner, baron, earl, etc) and the colors were eye catching. Of course, shirtless painted Fabio was way sexy with black, brown, red, etc hair too. I do love a good Fabio boob shot. Yes, that would be sarcasm. The man boobs on The Wolf's Heart, well, that's a different story. Marcus is hawt. Oohooo baby! Ahem.. anyway.

But even as a teenager, I knew that them big old girl boobs were their own bodice breakers waiting to happen. Oh come on! For the love of whalebone, did you look at those covers? Those women are cinched up tighter than Ft Knox. Just one sneeze and a seed pearl off her midnight blue velvet bodice flies across Capt'n Delamar's cabin at top speed! Go ahead and laugh, it's funny til someone loses an eye...then it's frickin hilarious! (And now yall know the real reason pirates have eye patches. Tis the Curse of the Seed Pearl. Ow crap my eye! I mean, um.. Arrgh!)

So, no, I don't care for 'bodice ripper' as a blanket term to decribe romance novels, especially since I write in the contemporary setting for the most part. I can honestly say that no bodices have ever been ripped in the making of my books. That's right, any and all boobies that come unbound in Braless in the Buick, broke out on their own, and were not freed by the ripping of bodices. Swear.

Plus, the way they phrased that question was condescending. It made me feel like a happy-go-lucky cheerleader hyped up on candy-coated Christmas crack if I said YES YES YES! Bodice rippers are my ultimate! The cheerleader analogy was irritating in the extreme because I'm a dark chocolate paranormal kinda gal, if ya wanna know the truth of it. This means I'd rather be out behind the gym smokin' with the vamps and weres--and whatever might come before the ciggy. *nudge nudge wink wink*

Now if they'd have offered the option: "Yes, I love steamy panty ripper books!" well, now that would have been a different story, which I've both read and written with happy grin on my face.

Burn Your Bodices!

Jenna Leigh

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

All Aboard the Sprain Train

Today, Paco, the Wundah Dawg lay on the back of the recliner waiting to ambush me when I walked in the door. What happens when I do is that he balances on his hind legs and 'hugs' me with a little sigh of happiness. Awww, how sweet, right? Yeah, whatever. Oh be quiet. I'm not heartless or anything. I fell for it, of course. Picked him up, letting lick my face, without a thought about what else he'd been licking before I'd come home. *ew* Anyway, he was so happy to see me, I decided to take him for his walksies right then and there instead of making him wait until I'd changed clothes and shoes.

So, I snapped on his leash, and let him drag me out the door and down the steps. Keep in mind that he weighs all of 7lbs, so there isn't much dragging going on. Basically, he runs to the end of his leash and wigggles his front paws really fast in the air barking until I catch up and he has slack to move forward again. This happens over and over, with him stopping to pee on every bush in the yard until I get tired of having my arm jerked and pick him up and take him back inside.

This is what usually happens, however, when Paco went to hike his teeny leg to loose the wundah wee, I took the one step to the left, to make sure I didn't get caught in the back spray. When I did, I stepped in an indentation, and turned my ankle. There was a horrible crunching noise and I went down! No I did NOT get peed on. Ick!

I think dogs are confused about human anatomy, because for some reason, Paco was convinced that standing on my back and barking really loud was very helpful. That or he just thought it was fricking funny. Either way, he kept doing it, while I screamed for my hubby to, "Come get this little demon dog off my back!"

I'll admit that the barking lent enough urgency to my screams to make JMo run really fast. However, as I was laying on the ground, he just stood on the porch asking, "Where the hell are you et?" in Hickenese. I felt like throwing the dog at him.

"Get over here and help me, now." I know I growled it but it led him to me.. FINALLY!

"Oh. My. God! Paco, what did you do?" His shock made wonder if he seriously thought this incident would go down in the annals of 'When Dogs Attack!!' You see the picture of my dog, yall. He's .. he's.. *snicker* he's a munchkin.

Anyway..I finally get the point across that I've hurt my foot. And that Paco's hasn't gone all Mini-Cujo and went for the jugular, as if he could reach it without a ladder and stilts.
JMo got me into the house with much cursing and a quite a few tears.

Don't worry, neither of them cried long. JMo ate supper and was fine. As for Paco, well, I'm thinking of calling in that pet whispering fellah, he's kinda cute. And yes, that EFO stood at the door the whole time glaring at us. I know what he was thinking too. "This is what you deserve for getting the dog in the first place. I hope it's broken. MEOWHAHAHHA!"
The Walking (well, limping) Wounded

Sunday, May 04, 2008

I am Iron Man! Well, okay, I'm just a fan

After ten years of marriage to my handsome comic collector hubby, JMorgan, I'm used to being dragged to the theater for EVERY SINGLE COMIC BOOK MOVIE THAT COMES OUT EVER!! Though I fuss, secretly I enjoy sitting back and watching an hour and a half or so of rock 'em sock 'em action that doesn't require much thought. It all started with X-Men, which, I'll admit, I've been a long time fan of, for one reason only: Wolverine. Hugh Jackman did a great job portraying my favorite X-hunk. *pauses to think about him in that tank top* Anyway, X-Men was the highlight of mine and the hubster's movie going madness, at least, until.. NOW!

Iron Man has blown the rest out of the water. The minute Robert Downey Jr came on screen, I was mesmerized. He was the perfect choice to play Tony Stark, the smart, yet debauched, destructive playboy. RDJ's witty snark fits right into that iron suit as if he were made for the part. He also brings a destructive, slightly psychotic edginess to the role that kept the cheesiness to a minimum. The suit making process, however is the best part of the whole movie. The first suit and the second suit, for entirely different reasons.

The rest of the cast, even Gwennie as Pepper Potts was wonderful as was a bald Jeff Bridges and Terrence Howard as Tony's best bud. But I loved the Vanity Fair reporter, Christine simply because she was so mean, and yet still got to 'pump Iron' as it were. I'll save all the, OMIGAWD his armor was hydromatic, it was automatic, it was GREASED LIGHTENING!! sort of thing for the true fanboy, my hubby, but.. I will say that the movie doesn't have the usual outer space baddie, upscale mutated baddie, or even long lost brother/sister/uncle/cousin(sorta redneckish ain't it?) baddie, which is how most of these sorts of movies go.

No, it's written on more of a global scale telling how people should be held accountable for their actions. How someone no matter how rich or smart, can still make mistakes. It's ultimately the story of how the horndog Tony goes from being a philanderer to a philanthropist. And don't worry, all the explosions keep it from being too preachy.

I cheered at the appearance of S.H.I.E.L.D. because I know that where they are, the Avengers, with Captain America and the rest cannot be far behind. And there's also the fact that The Incredible Hulk is coming up in a few months, and in the Big Green Machine's movie, we're going to get another glimpse of .. IRON MAN!


Okay, fine, my secret's out, hubby has been my cover for years. But, I'll say it loud and proud. Hello there, my name is Jenn, and I'm a comic book hoor. Since I was just a young chickie Iron Man/Tony Stark the sexy, tormented genius has been one of my favorites, so this time I drug hubby to the theater. Are yall happy? Eh, that's okay, for this movie, I'll come out of the comic closet and admit, that I am one very satisfied FanGirl.

And yeah, I'm listening to the Ozman right now,

Pumpin up the Iron Man,


Thursday, May 01, 2008

I've been hit with a tag from Dee.

Does this qualify me for Dee-saster relief? *snickers*

Tell seven random and/or interesting things about myself. Get five blog buddies to play, too and link to their blogs. Don’t forget to post the rules!

1. I'm addicted to 80's music, especially metal.

2. Can't stand spiders.

3. But think snakes are kinda cool.

4. Love reading about other countries but am afraid to fly, so will probably never visit them.

5. Wants to win the lotto, but can't remember to buy a ticket.

6. Own a lot of crocs. They look great with my scrubs. *winks*

7. Is a Trekkie who lives with a Star Wars lover affectionately dubbed Jethro the Redneck Jedi, who on bad days I call Darth Lord of the Sticks.

Hubby..*wheeze* I am your luvah *wheeze cough cough* and I'm taggin you too.

Melanie Gilbreath aka Meme has been mimi'd! muhahahah!
Mechele Armstrong

Okay, I'm done and remember, it's all Dee's fault!

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Interview with the Baby Vampire

You hear about people interviewing their characters all the time. I've never been able to get into it until I was trying to do my logline/tagline for Dateless and it just happened. So, here it goes, in a channeling her strange little I'm a freaky baby demon mindset type of way.

Gabby, Supah Secret Agent Baby's cunning plan involving Gah(Sharlene) and Cah (Cade)

1. Jump on Gah and suck her face until it bleeds. Then, trap Gah in the backseat of Cah's truck and whack her with my rattle until she sees stars. It made her look all goofy like my mommy does when my daddy kisses her. *gag* But then she screamed and so did Cah. I laughed.

I'm the best at bad backseat behavior.

2.Make faces at Gah until she gives me soda to drink. Smirk about this because she knows she's not supposed to do it. Meet a new man in with blonde sticky up hair who smiles a lot. I smile back, then growl and spit and hiss. I am what my mommy calls 'sugared up' from the soda. Yay! But I don't like the new man. Cah said I could bite him.

Who is Rosemary? My mommy's name is Allie.

3. Next time I see Gah, I grab her and try to pull her bathing suit top off. This wasn’t really part of the plan but, I bet Cah would give me some of his cheese crackers if I did it. And if I couldn't, there's always biting...again. Maybe I'll bite the new man with the sticky up blonde hair. Mommy, I think maybe your name is Rosemary.

Hey, do I hear bees?

4. Bat my eyelashes at Gah when I see her in the grocery store, then cry my no-fail fake tears for which I've won the Diva Diaper Demon Awards. This way she’ll take me from my mommy, and then, I can con her into giving me some of her ice cream. Okay, yes, this one was just for me, the heck with Cah’s crappy crackers.

I happen to like my baby rap songs. Baby G's in the hizzhouz!

5. Make Mommy take me to Gah’s house and then stick passie in her mouth watch the boring 'Fewd Netwuk' with her til she goes to sleep and I can take all her good DVDs. Hey, this diaper bag is good for more than just diapers. Ooh, Blues Brothers, it shall be mine.

I'm on a mission from Mom.

Love ya,

The Smallest Member of
The Neighborhood Inquisition
(Like you didn't know!)

PS: My daddy made me leave before I could see if all my plans worked. I was so mad, I waited til he fell asleep and gave him twirly hair. I do it all the time, so I'm good at it.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Where is The Wolf's Heart?

According to Deshanna, it's in Kansas City! And she took this photo despite the great danger to herself. *snickers* Oh shut up, I'm sure there was danger of some kind, she could have sprained her finger pushing the button on the camera or something! Work with me, people!

Our supah spy wasn't scared though, this is why her code name is No Fear Fox.. she sends out massive amounts of survey questions in a single email. And um.. and she's a major fox. Yes, anyway, moving on from weird stalker author suckuppage to the real stuff.

Thanks so much to Des, for both the picture, and the fact that there's one less copy of The Wolf's Heart in that Borders because of her. While she does offer me great distractions in the form of the aforementioned surveys when I can't write (or just need a reason to procrastinate), I do learn lots about all my friends, and it's a great way to keep in touch. But most of all she's always encouraged me to keep writing by being a friend who is also a fan.

Now it's my turn. I look forward to reading her work one of these days and will be honored to be a fellow LOS'er alumni with her. Hope to see you in the funny papers; and on the shelves very soon, Des. Please don't make me stalk you for real. You know I can.


Monday, April 14, 2008

Say what? Bitter Bayou Babe Rant

This Bitchfest is brought to you by The Bitter Bayou Babe. Yes, that's me, haven't yall been payin' attention?

I went into the Hellmart with JMo--the Bargain Bin DVD Diving Champion of the Universe. I swear, it's like he goes in there for soap, and cannot resist the lure of five dollar DVD's. It's an addiction, mind you, a bad habit, almost as bad as dumpster digging, only you don't get quite as nasty. Although, some of the movies in there would surely make a person have to wash their brains out if they watched them.

I've even been his enabler a time or two, by helping him find cinematic gems like Joe Dirt. *winces* Of course, I'm not that much help since I'm not tall enough to get to the bottom where the good stuff is hidden. See, I told you it's like dumpster diggin'.

However, I usually let him DVD dive solo while I go look at the important stuff, like socks and undies. I'm always having to replenish the former because my evil teenager steals my socks. Mozilla, the teenaged sock stealing demon, aka the Sock-i-bus, (oh shut up, you laughed) has larger feet than mine and wears black shoes, so when (ha!) I do get them back their stretched and stained beyond repair. Thankfully, our undie preferences don't mesh--I bet she has some made of this material too, ew--or I'd be going commando as often as I go Crockett. *blatant 80's TV Cop show reference*

This weekend, I had a much more northerly goal in mind so I ran off as I JMo muttered, "Ooh, Airheads is only five dollars? I have a copy, but what if I need a back up? Jenn, gimme five dollars!"

That's right, I needed a new bra. Oh, the horror, the humanity.. ..hey, they were on sale! I snatched a few likely suspects off the shelf, but wasn't sure of the size since I've lost some weight. I even took some jeans with me to see what size I could fit into. As I walked, a small person sidled up beside me. And I mean way into my personal space. I tried to ignore her, but she suddenly.. GROPED ME! OMG OMGGGGGG! EEEK! I want my mommy! *pauses* Wait...for the love of.. it IS my mommy. She laughs evilly, then runs off into the depths of the huge store talking about getting my aunt some paint. I didn't even hear the Jaws Theme music that time, my mama-dar must be broken.

With my fist fulla bras I scurry to the dressing rooms before I see any more of my kin, but the lady stops me and tells me that Hellmart no longer allows bras to be tried on. The hell? My boobs do not conform to the factory specs for bust or cup size, nor do most women. Then there's the difference in each brand of bra, each kind of bra etc. And get this when I asked if I could bring it back if it didn't fit, the lady said she didn't know. I tell you what, if I can't try it on in the store, and I can't bring it back, I ain't buying it. I calmly put the bras back and left the department, then had to wait for the DVD Diver to finish his treasure hunt to the bottom of the bin.

Hellmart just upped the stakes, but I have not begun to fight.


Saturday, April 12, 2008

Promo for the JMo!

Yippee Skippy and Send in the Clowns!!

Saturday, April 05, 2008

The Fam-a-razzi Strikes Again!!

The Terrible Trio

It's here again, ladies and gents. That magical time of legend and lore that happens but once a year. When everything sparkles, glitters and shines with the promise of what could be the best night of a teenager's life.

Yeah, I'm talkin' bout da prom.PROM PROM PROM!!!

You know, when the girls get all gussied up and put on 'poofy' dresses that cost way too much damned money for the number of times they actually wear them(ONCE! DO YALL HEAR ME? ONCE!) and boys rent tuxes. So unfair.

I will say this, my daughter's bf came formal gown shopping with us so even though he didn't have to actually buy the dress, he suffered through four and a half hours of retail hell with me. May the Java Goddess bless us and keep us, sane, well, semi-sane anyway. "Yes, we love that dress. That one too *slurp* Ooh! And that one!! *slurp* Omigawd! That one's the best everrrr!" When my picky child chose her dress, me and the bf did the snoopy dance of delight, lemme tell ya. Okay, not so she could see us, because I don't call her the Amazon Queen of Mean for nothin'.

So, the dress was bought, as were the shoes. She and I even went to do the mommy daughter pedi/mani thing, which was great. If I ever get rid of JMo, my next hubby will be one of those damn back massaging pedicure chairs. For real. Anyway. We were set for prom. Except for a little pre-prom rite of passage our dynamic duo has to go through every year. THE ATTACK OF THE FAM-A-RAZZI, in other words, yo nana says it's picture taking time! *groans*

Whenever Mother, Aunt and the Clone get together, the chatter is louder than a murder of crows. Added to that is they think up all these poses and make me run around the ground of our local museum. So, six million five hundred twenty one thousand eight hundred and twelve pictures later, the children finally escaped to the prom. I was even happy to go to the Hellmart can you believe it? My GOD! Now I know why celebrities go ballistic. But not why starlets go sans undies in miniskirts. IMO, that's just begging for some camera guy to take a gyno/eye's view of the forbidden bits.

If your kid is promming it tonight, I hope they have fun and stay safe. JMo and I are trying to ignore the drag of time until our chicklet gets home. I'm just glad she is wearing a) undies and b) a long 'poofy' skirt. But I am a bit worried about the whole strapless thing goin on up top. Seriously, this is Louisiana it ain't been that long since Mardi Gras was over. Beads could be thrown, and then, well yall know what could happen!

Tryin not to think about Prom Night the movie,

Jenna Leigh

Saturday, March 15, 2008

The Wolf’s Heart Available in Print!

The Wolf’s Heart is howling around on the shelves in Florida!! I received the report of this sighting today from a respected member of the FBH! This person is very wise in the ways of book hording.(meaning she got herself a copy) For those who are scratching your heads in confusion, the FBH is the Federation of Book Hoarders. By the way, I’m a certified (and yeah, certifiable) member of this venerable agency myself.

How do you know you’re a member of this super secret and as far as I know fictional organization? My card floated down and landed on my head the day when I realized that my house isn’t much more than four walls and a roof to keep all my books dry. The card read.. SEEK HELP NOW OR BE CERTIFIED AS A HOARDER!! Honestly, what the heck else is a house good for if not to hoard books in, hmm?

If it also houses my collection of old Cosmo mags which I keep in the event that one day I’ll be limber enough to do that freak on a leash --The Half Gainer With a Twist Upside Down Then Reverse She’s an Indian Outlaw and a Cowgirl-- sex move from the April 2002 issue. Heck, I sprained my wrist just flipping the book round and round trying to figure it out. A sex move should NOT read like a damned complex math problem. That would explain where that whole ’be fruitful and multiply’ phrase came from, huh? *snickers* Even more unlikely is that I’ll have lost enough weight to wear those fabu jeans from the October 1994 issue. Okay, perhaps by 2050, when my grandchildren dig me up 10 years after I’m dead to shoehorn me into them as I have specified in my will. Oh, shut up, it’s not morbid, it’s called planning ahead!

Where was I? Oh yes. Thanks so much to Debbie--a Head Hoarder if ever there was--for letting me know she found The Wolf’s Heart on the shelf in Florida! (and if she is reading this she’s probably really glad she lives far away from me) And double thanks to her for buying a copy!!
If --like me--you live in your own version of BFE, then you can still make your hoard a bit heavier and get your own copy at Amazon and Barns and Noble.

Friday, February 15, 2008

A Light Goes Out

I know I'm a little behind the times, but I just read that Phyllis Whitney died at age 104 and had been writing up until the time of her death. The first part makes me sad, the second part makes me admire her all the more. She's one of those authors that made me want to read and one of those authors that made me want to write as well.

She was one of my first 'must reads'. The first book I ever read of hers was Vermillion, which I picked up because of that weird looking cane on the cover (yes, even then I was a cover loving little cow) Her books seems innocuous enough, so my high school library had almost all of them. What they didn't know was that they were filled with suspense, intrigue, mystery and *gasps!* romance. That's right, girls and boys, romance novels sat on those shelves just waiting for the innocent *snorts* teen to pick them up and read them. But she was sneaky because within the pages of those same romance novels, she showed me a lot more, and not about the birds and bees either. She always gave great 'locale'. After reading her books I felt as if I'd been to the places featured within the pages. She was simply, one of the best.

Ms. Whitney told a great story and not just about people, but about places, and things. My love of words and my knowledge of my own country was much improved because of her. She would take a heroine and place her(along with me) into a place and then simply tell me about it, while telling me the story. This way I learned about the Smokey Mountains, Arizona, West Virginia and many other places without caring that I did. Which is something not many can do. I despised geography and social studies in school, yet she made it entertaining and interesting.

But what she did best, at least to me was, to take a cold lifeless object and make it the centerpiece of the plot, almost like another character. This inanimate object, whether it be a jewel, a stone, a statue, or a cane would be described so well by her that it would come alive for me. In some stories these pieces would lie in wait for the heroine to touch or see them to reveal a secret from her past. Or it could be even more sinister in Ms Whitney's darker, almost paranormal stories, and be a living, breathing entity filled with menace. By the way, I loved the latter the best.

I'm sorry to hear of her passing, sorry to know that she's no longer with us. Now that she's gone, we've got one less navigator in that dark and complex place that is the imagination. She'll be missed.

Rest In Peace Ms. Whitney.

Jenna Leigh

Friday, January 25, 2008

Gone Crazy

I'm not a big fan of reality tv because it reminds me of an auto accident and I'm not the type to rubberneck. However, Gone Country with its cast of hasbeens/country megastar wannabees is an exception to that rule for a few reasons.

1. Rich actually knows his business, and it is a business despite what many people (some of the cast included) think. Nashville has been an epicenter drawing songwriters and singers for almost a century. A lot of rockers list country singers as some of their biggest influences.

2. These folks ain't your typical wide-eyed newbies coming in to be shot down by the likes of some old Snarky Simon whom I despise because not only is he mean, but he works hard at it, and it shows. No, these are veterens and they know the score. And though Jim Rich is scary, he's also nice, and he's hot!(oh yes he is, dammit, Carnie thinks so too!)

3. The cast, including Maureen McCormick--yes, Marsha Marsha Marsha--Carnie Wilson, Bobby Brown, Dee Snyder, Sisco, Julio Inglesias Jr. and Diana Digarmo all impressed me with their willingess to go country. Their personalities run the gamut from strange to silly to surreal too.. well, let's face it, Marsha Brady is too damned saccharine for words. I'm hoping Dee or maybe Carnie pop her in the head. One of those two has to be the Jan in the Big Bad Bunch, because surprisingingly Bobby has turned out to be a freakin' CINDY! Maybe it was all the crack, I dunno.

4 . I love and I mean seriously LOVE Dee Snyder. I think he totally rocks! He's one of my heroes from way back when he stood up to that censorship crap started by Tipper Gore that bored housewife whose hubby happened to have some damned power. (Wow, that soapbox is old, but it still holds me up, whodathunkit?) Anyway, Twisted Sister was one of my favorite bands when I was in high school. I'll watch him sing the ingredients off the cereal box. But I tell yall what, I'm waiting for the point where he has to actually sing a real honest to goodness country song. I'm not saying he can't do it, but I think if he tries, his head will explode. And that my friends would be some great television right there. Maybe I can get HD before then.

Been Country

Jenna Leigh

Monday, January 07, 2008

Top 5 things you should know about LSU Tiger Fans

1. If you wake up from surgery and your first words are GEAUX TIGERS!! Instead of Can I have some pain meds please? You might be a LSU Tiger Fan

2. If your surgeon and the rest of the hospital staff are wearing a purple and gold LSU scrubs. (acutally this can happen pretty much every day down here) You might be a LSU Tiger Fan

3. If all of the purple and/or gold dog sweaters have been sold out for months in your local Hellmart.. You might be a LSU Tiger Fan.

Hey, Louisiana dawgs are Tiger fans too! But, not cats. *blinks* Have you ever tried to put a sweater on a cat? Sheah, if you had, you'd be making a visit to the folks in purple and gold scrubs.

4. If you're not a Tiger fan, you will likely will be outed on days like today, so try and fake it or be ready to run fast. Because you might meet some LSU Tiger Fans and even our Mamaws tackle pretty darned hard.

5. The Tigers have been gearing up for this game for a while. Yall know what this means, right? Yep, the meat's well marinated and so are the LSU Tiger fans.