Jenna Leigh

Spam I am... not

2008-08-12T16:13:00.000-07:00

Bah. Just a test of grumpy broadcast system.

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

2008-06-20T19:13:00.000-07:00

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

All Aboard the Sprain Train

2008-05-14T20:00:00.000-07:00

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

Jenna

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

2008-05-04T15:18:00.001-07:00

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!

*squeal!*

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,

Jenn

I've been hit with a tag from Dee.

2008-05-01T19:39:00.000-07:00

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.

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

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

Interview with the Baby Vampire

2008-04-24T20:47:00.000-07:00

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,

Gabby
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.

Where is The Wolf's Heart?

2008-04-20T18:59:00.000-07:00

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.

Love,

Jennzilla

Say what? Bitter Bayou Babe Rant

2008-04-14T18:47:00.000-07:00

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.

Jenn

Promo for the JMo!

2008-04-12T18:27:00.001-07:00

Yippee Skippy and Send in the Clowns!!

The Fam-a-razzi Strikes Again!!

2008-04-05T19:06:00.000-07:00

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

The Wolf’s Heart Available in Print!

2008-03-15T18:51:00.000-07:00

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.

Jenna Leigh

A Light Goes Out

2008-02-15T20:38:00.000-08:00

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

Gone Crazy

2008-01-25T23:22:00.000-08:00

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

Top 5 things you should know about LSU Tiger Fans

2008-01-07T20:29:00.001-08:00

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.

Tumbling down the rabbit hole or beware of plot bunnies

2007-12-09T16:25:00.000-08:00

Editing is a fact of an author's life, but usually we leave that horrible task to the experts. And let's face it someone who doesn't give a damn how much this and that adverb is loved. How much time was spent on that special phrase. The editor is THE EXECUTIONER! Their job is to go through and kill the stuff that doesn't work. Like downsizing a company, or making a chubby kid go on a diet when their fave food groups are FATS AND CARBS. Come on, it's their job. They're specially trained not to notice the screams of all those words going to their doom. *sniffles*

However, there are times when we must face facts, pull up our bootstraps and do the dreaded self edit. *insert screams of horror here* When something isn't working, when it's just not right. The story is too long or the pacing is off. I'm not expert by any means, but I've read enough books to know that if it takes too long for stuff to happen that I'll put it down. If I the A.D.D. Queen will do that, so will the average reader, and that's who I write for.

I'll say this, thank God--or at least Microsoft for the word processing program. Without it, this process would take much longer than it did for authors of the past. My respect for authors of the past is great, some wrote longhand, others took the typewriter route. While I've written down passages to put on the computer for later, but I'm not sure if I could write an entire book by hand. And from my high school days, I know very well that typewriters and myself don't get along at all.

So, back to the the drawing board yet again, or rather back to the cut and paste. But, it's all clicking together nicely now, finally after a breather and a bout of introspection that I had to do when life threw me one of it's little curve balls. However, with a little therapy from my cybersisters I'm getting into the swing of things again. Maybe I just needed a rest and refill. Let's hope so.

May All Your Holidays Be Bright!

Love Jenna

For all you Tiger Fans

2007-12-08T19:22:00.000-08:00

Since my brother-in-law is stuck off in Ohio and has no friends and family to share his Tiger-Fandom with, I thought I'd share this pic so he wouldn't feel quite so lonely. That and it's just so darn cute.

What's Paco saying? Well, of course it's..

Dog Day Some Day

2007-11-20T21:07:00.001-08:00

But not today.

Happy Thanksgiving from me and my family (Paco the Wonderdawg too!) to yours.

What's in a name?

2007-11-18T18:36:00.000-08:00

Would a rose by any other name smell as sweet? Not sure, but I hope they had lots of roses and other flowering bushes around during Love in the Time of Cholera. Every time I hear about or see the title, I snicker and/or despite the fact that it's being touted as this HUGE sweeping romantic saga and one of the greatest love stories ever. Why? Well, due to my work in the medical field, I can't thinking about the definition of cholera.

Cholera: is an acute, diarrheal illness caused by infection of the intestine with the bacterium Vibrio cholerae.

Oh yeah uh huh, diarrhea is just so damn.. sexy.

I realize this is the title of the book and therefore must be the title of the movie because .. it's an Oprah Book Club book. That's right, we can all blame the talk show queen for a medical word for shit being in a movie title. I can hear people thinking now, "Love and shit.. does that mean the relationship is in the toilet.. what?"

However, people are going to see this awkwardly named movie because by golly, if she recommends something they all have to flock to it like mindless sheep to heading for slaughter, or perhaps lemmings jumping off the cliffs of despair to their dooms on the jagged rocks below.

I've looked at her clique-y little list, you know and there aren't any fun books. There's no Harry Potter or Cujo, or even any romances, unless the hero or heroine dies in the end. Oh yeah, I realize that the HEA ain't on her must-reads. Believe me babe, I know a passive pooh-pooh when I see one, I'm a southern woman after all, she don't like romance readers or writers for that matter. Alice Hoffman is the closest she's got, with Here on Earth. Please be advised, while good, your nose will become intimately acquainted with a box of Kleenex during this book.

Now, I'm not knocking the woman (much) I'm scared to, she's got connections, not to mention more money than God. Nor am I downing all those books those authors worked so hard on, most of which are about spiritual growth or overcoming huge obstacles but some of them are just.. fricking boring. Not to mention depressing as hell. A lot of the books on the OBC list should come with a Prozac taped to a book mark as a promo item.

Back to Love in the Time of Cholera.... when the J. Geils Band sang Love Stinks, I really don't think this is what they were talking about.

What happens in DunVegas is happening now and it's free!!

2007-10-31T13:50:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Dunvegas 2007, the brainchild of the paranormal authors of the Beyond the Veil blog. Offered as a free Samhain gift to our readers, we hope this anthology will be the first of many return visits to Dunvegas, an out-of-the-ordinary Las Vegas casino/resort modeled after an ancient Scottish castle.

Dunvegas is unlike any other casino on The Strip. It caters to a decidedly preternatural crowd and plays host to the annual ParaPleasures Expo, the largest trade show on Earth dedicated solely to the pampering and pleasuring of vampires, weres, dragons, Fae, mages, wizards, and everything in between.

So pack light (Dunvegas has everything you could ever need) and confirm your reservation. The concierge desk is just beyond the fangs and hellhounds that guard the portcullis. Just keep your arms and legs inside as you cross the moat—the mermaids and the Kracken aren’t just for show. They’re real.

And it’s feeding time.

Enjoy your stay!

To get a free download of this wonderful story head on over to Beyond the Veil

A wyvern, a succubus and a witch walk into a bar

2007-10-23T21:27:00.000-07:00

It could happen in Vegas.. or in one of my books.

Lacey at Romance Junkies had this to say about The Last Legacy.

THE LAST LEGACY is a wonderful fantasy tale. This is my second review for Ms. Leigh and I must say her stories only get better. Ms. Leigh combines romance, adventure and humor beautifully in every story she creates, and always keeps the reader guessing what will happen next. Lilly is an intelligent character who didn’t necessarily ask for the life she’d been dealt, but she makes the best of it. I enjoyed the character Faelen as well, and his fervid attempts to get Lilly to notice him. I recommend THE LAST LEGACY to readers looking for a great fantasy.

To read the rest CLICK HERE!

Also, in other news. Tomorrow is the first installment of I Dream of Desi, which is my part of What Happens in DunVegas on Beyond The Veil

And also tomrrow night please,join me and JMorgan at Coffee Time's Exotic Loop for The Witching Hour where we'll share some ghost stories and talk a bit about our books at 6:30 Central.

I think that's all. For now anyway.

Whew!

Jenna

October News-Happy Halloween!

2007-10-12T19:19:00.000-07:00

Saturday, October 13th, JMorgan, Helen Ravell and I, among others, are going to be chatting at Love Romances Cafe.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LoveRomancesCafe/

On Sunday October 21st I'll be loopy yet again, this time joining the other Champagne Books authors at Fallen Angels.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FallenAngelReviewChatters/

Wednesday October 24th, JMorgan and I'll be together once more.. I swear we're together on loops more than we are in reality. *snickers* This time it's on Coffee Time Romance's loop where we'll do our scary swamp Witching Hour.

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/karenfindoutaboutnewbooks/

On Halloween, something truly spooky will happen. Through the magic--and some would say evil--of the internet, I shall be two places at once.

A Very Spooky Chat with the rest of Champagne's authors in Fallen Angel Review's Chatroom
http://www.fallenangelreviews.com/

And

Samhain Publishing is taking over the Coffee Time Loops for a Halloween Bash!

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/karenfindoutaboutnewbooks/

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/karendevinkaren/

As you can see, I'll be haunting the loops this month, so if you see me, drop me a line. And don't forget to enter my contest. The details can be found at Coffee Time Romance and on my website.

I vant to drink your chocy!!

Jenna Leigh

Panthers and Cougars and now Bears? Oh My! Wait.. Oh, Crap!

2007-10-04T19:00:00.000-07:00

I may have mentioned that I've got a Sucky Day Job. Let me say that I love the people I work with. When you spend 8 hours a day with folks for years on end and they become your family. My boss is the big brother whose more heinous than me. Scary thought, no? Well, maybe not that mean.. okay, yeah he is. This is the man who calls me Luci, stating it's short for Lucifer. *pfth* Evil gets the job done. More on him in a bit.

Anyway, my hubby comes into my day job often because he and my coworker share books. She's the sweet one. You know the one in every bunch whose always positive, upbeat and nice, until that scary frickin moment that she's not. Then, Omigawd, take cover because like the song goes, Betty's Bein' Bad, and she's probably got a shotgun aimed at your ass. Her name ain't Betty, but I'm not goin to say it. Take not the scary sweet woman's name in vain is my motto, because she could be sneakin up on you unawares.

Well, I thought hubby was visiting Sweetie and discussing just what books to by and not to buy because she's a bad 'rebuyer'. If they change the cover, she'll grab it up, thinking she's got the newest book by one of her fave authors. I firmly believe publishers should put the word REPRINT in big letters on the cover for women such as her. Not that she'd believe it, because even when I tell her this and that she's read it she doesn't believe me. She makes me bring the book to work. Only after reading three or four chapters does she bring it to me with a look of disgust on her face so I can take it home and sneak it back on hubby's no touchit shelf. The lengths I go for this woman. Gaah!

However, hubby wasn't in with Sweetie, nooo, it was much worse, he was in with my boss aka THE CORRUPTER. The Corrupter gives him subversive testosterone laden ideas like; thinking for himself, doing what he wants, buying movies with lotsa bewbies in, going fishin', buying a truck with 4-wheel drive, etc. He'd never come up with these on his own, being more like Sweetie than The Corrupter, so I'd rather he didn't visit with him, as I always hear giggling coming from that office. Yet when I go in, it suddenly stops and they look guilty. Boys are such doofuses.

This time though, The Corrupter was showing him a PSA in the form of the picture shown. I thought this was from someone's deer feeder from Arkansas or Mississippi, so imagine my surprise when Corrupter claimed it was from his own deer feeder. I still wasn't too worried because he's got a camp at the Hooker Hole *pauses* Hush, that's the name of the place. No, I'm not makin it up, I'm from there. No, I'm not from the Hooker Hole! I'm from the general area..oh never mind! Anyway, this picture was taken about ten miles from my house! This is a black bear! While the Corrupter may be Grizzly Adams *snickers* I'm so not.

Intellectually I know we've got panthers and cougars in our area, but they don't let you see them because cats are smart enough to know that out of sight means out of mind. But Bears? Bears? All those dumbass rednecks were supposed to have hunted them to extinction years ago. Can't I depend on them for anything? Jeez Louisiana! I watched enough Discovery Channel to know they're gonna be in my trashcans soon, and once that happens it's onto my porch. Just, eeek! Hubby's response? He smiled and said, "See! I told you we needed to buy a bigger gun!" Dammit, I knew the Corrupter was up to something!

Contest for the Month of October!

2007-10-01T19:50:00.000-07:00

Six Degrees of Southern Separation

2007-09-30T00:03:00.001-07:00

Connectivity isn't just about the internet, believe it or not. You can get it anywhere, especially in the South. Of course in my hometown you can't drive down the road without practically running over one of my kinfolks, but that's not really fair, as you're in my hometown. My mother is one of 4, her mother is one of 12, my father is one of 8, his mother was one of 6 and his father was one of 7, at least, I think he was. You don't know? I can feel your disbelief, well, dammit, I have a lot of kinfolk, it gets confusing after about 200 or more. So, yeah I think so, but don't quote me on it. Let's just say that when there's a funeral on either side of my family, it can turn into standing room only event.

I mentioned an old and dear friend passing away and going to the viewing. Now for those that don't know; a viewing is a Southernism. It's sort of like a Wake. However, since most of the folks down here in this part of the South are Baptists or Protestant, there's no drinking. Depending on the family and/or the deceased's wishes the casket may or may not be opened there might not be any viewing done either. What you are essientially there for is to visit the deceased's kin.

That's what The Poor Sainted Hubby and I did and the capital letters are needed in this case, because the Poor Sainted Hubby deserves mondo brownie points.

First he drove to West Funroe, which he hates to do and did it at night BP#1. Secondly he was taking me to my ex-bf's funeral where he didn't know anyone BP#2. It doesn't matter that we'd not been involved for over 20 years, some men would have still balked at it, but he didn't. We get there and I immediately am engulfed in the past relativity of yakkity yak and he melts into the background so easily that I actually forgot he was there BP#3. I was good friends with his sisters, Tish and Sussan and, and Tish's husband Joey too you see as well as Susan's ex husband Scotty as well as their parents. In fact for a time in high school we were almost inseparable. Yes, we were evil children, but we never got caught. Almost never.

We're all talking (endlessly) and it was wonderful to see my old friends despite the tragic circumstances. It was also awful to judge how old we're all getting by the fact that our children are all grown up, but that's life, it passes and the alternative to growing older is worse and also final. Remembering our friend was what we did, by sharing our memories, which is what a viewing is for.

However, towards the end of the night Joey (a yakker to rival even me and dayam, that's saying something!) made a remark about coveting my cousin's car and my husband smugly replied that his cousin's gold Trans-am was much more heinously righteous. I laughingly pushed back his bangs and said that Jackie had put the lightening bolt shaped scar on Saint Hubby's head making him into the grown up version of Harry Potter (who he looks somewhat like). Once the name was said the Six Degrees of Southern Separation Game began.

Joey laughed and shook his head, "My sister was married to him."
St Hubby frowned and said the most important thing. "She's crazy! She made him get rid of that car!"
Joey throws up his hands, "I know, what can you do? Relatives."
St Hubby, who has been known to hold a grudge for quite a while. "Eh, he took my toys when I was two. He deserved it."

Thus, peace and redneck harmony was restored as they talked about Cameros, Mustangs and T-tops until Tina Turner arrived. Oh don't get excited.. it's the redneck version. Lemme tell you if Ike ever put his hand on this one, he'd have drawn back a nub the first time. I can't tell any secrets about her though, cuz she knows my nickname.

Off to Make Some Brownies

Jenn

Path Not Taken, Road Not Traveled, Heart Still Broken

2007-09-22T17:57:00.000-07:00

Different decisions sent me down different paths than my friends and lovers. Some of them were right, some wrong, and some weren't even my decisions at all. It's only when I look back and can see the way the paths overlap, looping back and forth, connecting and weaving that I understand how Fate has a hand in things, and that I have no control over it. It still hurts like hell.

The past has a way of coming back to haunt me when I least expect it. A breath-stealing slap in the in the face to show me things thought I'd put away. I only thought I'd forgot but no, it's been waiting for just this perfect moment to come roaring back with the vengence of a lover scorned.

Events, people, places, things once beloved, were shoved into the back of my mind busy with the present, a heart full to the brim with the new. Mental keepsakes were safely pressed and folded and filed, but they lingered, like a cancer I thought were in remission. In reality, it was just waiting, for that one word, or name, or thought, or smell, or dear God, a song and just exploded into life. These cells, these visions regenerated with vivid clarity and I was simply....there again, like I'd never left at all.

The past is a scary thing, because I can't change it. Instead, it just lingers in the darkness like a chain tightening around the heart showing what could have been. However, when the past dies, ends, becomes a closed avenue, something strange happens. I freeze and wonder in that selfish, center of the universe way humans have, could I have done something to change it? Here is where the F-word comes in again, Fate. If I could go back, knowing what I know now, would I change any of my decisions, sure, should I? No, but I do know that a dear friend is gone, and this world a much dimmer place without him in it. I'll miss you, Perry.

Love always,

Jenn

Remember

2007-09-11T14:52:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe it's been six years since the skyline of NYC was changed forever. I just remember thinking how awful it was that a plane accidently hit the tower. Talk about innocence lost, huh? When the Pentagon was targeted too, it was still awful, but by then, I was ready for it and knew what was going on, so I was more mad than anything.
Many died, others were heroes. All should be remembered today as well as the soldiers that are still fighting. Whether you think the war's justified, a senseless bid for vengeance, a waste of taxpayer's money or a combination of all three, I still say we have to remember the tragedy that happened today. Then, there's the old saying about learning our history, let's do that, because this is something I don't ever want to see happen again.

Through it all though, I'm still proud to be an American.

Jenna Leigh

Faith, Saints and Cable TV

2007-09-08T00:07:00.001-07:00

My husband is in a bit of a slump. Oh, no not writing wise. That part is fine and dandy. I'm talking about nothing to watch on the bewwb tube. He loves the television but right now, if you haven't noticed, we've reached a point where Summer is over but, strangely enough, Fall hasn't begun just yet. How could the networks let this season gap happen to the innocent TV sluts like my hubby? He's bereft, bewildered, bothered, and bummed and about his lack of viewing prospects. I'm just pissed that we have all these channels and there still ain't shit to watch. Why the heck are we paying for cable anyway?

I can remember having four channels when I was a kid. NBC, ABC, CBS, and Public Broadcasting. You're either nodding with me, or you're too damn young to remember what a big deal it was to get Fox. I'm more than likely old enough to have changed your diapers.

Do you know who White Snake, Def Leppard, Twisted Sister or Duran Duran are? Was their music ever played on the channel known as MTV? If your answer to either of my questions are no, then git, you little teensy babies you. Go and watch your big brothers and sisters on the Rugrats.

Back to the season gap rant, which ties in with the foosball is of the devil rant I have every year at this time. *sighs*

So, last night with the hubby was bad. The Saints played football, he was all excited and ready to watch it and then, crap if Faith Hill didn't come out and start singin' the national anthem. He despises her since the unfortunate *giggles and tosses back long blonde hair* Oh, but I thank I sang Piece of My Heart better than Janis Joplin *flutters lashes and flashes perfect teeth* incident which happened well over ten years ago.

However, this slight against his precious Janis has festered in his soul like a blight on a pristine rose growing black and bitter with rage and hate. It hasn't gotten better with time, like any of those trite little songs and poems say it will because upon seeing Faith or hearing her voice, astonishingly nasty words burst forth from this usually sweet and calm person's mouth. He has even been known to yell out the c word about her. He usually saves this word for persons that pull out in front of him or slam on their brakes, thus endangering the lives of him and his loved ones. So, don't do that, or say you sing better than Janis, and you won't be thought of as a c*nt in his book.

Side note: Yall, I've yelled his name to come help me wash dishes when he was in the next room and he didn't hear me. Ha! However, I muttered that I may perhaps think that Faith did sing PoMH slightly more in tune than Janis. I repeat that I muttered it under my breath while walking away from a man whose spent half his life listening to frickin Prince and hell yes, Janis at a decibel level detectable on Mars. This man not only heard me say this, but called ME a c*nt. *growls* Oh, yes he did. He said it once, but I said it fifty two times in thirty minutes until he pleaded with me to stop. So, I won, by reclaiming this word since I happen to be the owner of one, thank you very much. He didn't get any of it for quite a while, mind you.

Back to the football game...

By the way he thinks she jinxed the Saints. *snorts* Oh as if! They don't need any help with that, they suck well enough on their own. But I digress, I happen to like Mrs. McGraw, which means hubby and I have The Faith Wars all the time, and as Teen Mean's on my side, he don't stand a chance.

Jenna Leigh
Waiting on the Fall Season
Until then, I'll just aggravate the hell outta JMorgan *evil smiles*

Paco? ..Hell

2007-09-06T14:31:00.000-07:00

I'd promised myself and more importantly the EFO, no more animals in the house, especially not a D- O-G. So, imagine my surprise and his dismay when hubby and I heard a strange high pitched noise on Sunday night. At first, I shushed him because, frankly, I didn't figure anything was more important that Harry Connick Jr romancing Sandra Goofball on Hope Floats. Seriously, how insane was she? He's hot! I'd have dropped my womanizing hubby in a heartbeat and rode that cowboy right down the middle of mainstreet. But that's just me. Where was I? Oh yeah, a strange noise on the porch. Finally, I looked out on my porch and lo and behold, something almost as cute as the Connick walked right in my front door.

I could have put him right out again, like the EFO was meowing for me to do, but in my defence, it was almost dark and we've got coyotes, panthers and bears.. OH MY! Plus, look at that face, he's so sweet. He likes me bestest, I know this. *coughs* Although,I keep telling myself that I'm only 'holding' him until someone claims him, over daughter's dead hmm--well, over someone's dead body--I know and you know ain't nobody coming back for this dog so I'm stuck.

So, his name is Paco, and we did this so Teen Mean wouldn't saddle him with something like Tinkerbell, Honey, Baby or Sassy. He's tiny, so he needed a macho name to make up for his lack of size. I know she would have because the minute she got home from work, she squealed and picked him up in her arms and told me with a smirk that she could be just like Paris Hilton now. My husband roared back that she could be Elle on Legally Blonde, but never, ever Paris. Ever. Teen Mean just shrugged and took Paco for his first of many car rides. He seemed to enjoy it if his butt wiggles were any indication. He sleeps with her too, which is good because the only time he got into our bed, he showed a strange inclination for snuggling under my husband's armpit that I'm sure would have freaked him out if he'd woken up. I've not told him about it .. yet. I'm going to save that for a fight, or a long car drive, whichever comes first.

Welcome to the Insane Asylum Paco. And kudos to EFO who has been nice, so far. Oh crap, he's coming after me, isn't he? Crap.

I being of unsound mind..
Jenna Leigh

Still Goin Braless?

2007-09-04T19:15:00.000-07:00

Five Ribbons!
Comical at times and full of passion, BRALESS IN THE BUICK is a rare novel that kept me up all night reading because I absolutely couldn’t put it down. I thoroughly enjoyed Ms. Leigh’s writing style as she told the story of Allie and Jake with precise definition, giving her characters life on the pages. From the meddling neighbors, to the secrets Mr. FBI kept, the story is full of surprises with an ending guaranteed to make you smile. A highly recommended must read for any lover of romance!

Thanks so much to Lacey at Romance Junkies!!

This just in: the great and powerful E leader of Champagne Books has given me a greenlight on Dateless in the Dodge, the sequel for Braless. And I didn't have to work Monday. Man, my week's just getting better and better. *looks down at the picture of Hugh* Yeah, it's all good.

Jenn

Disturbing Revelations

2007-09-01T19:09:00.000-07:00

Today, whilst lazing in my lady lounger, I flipped through the channels and came across an old movie that was favorite of my mothers. Please note, she'd watch any frickin movie with Guns of, or Buffalo or Shoot Em in the title. In fact, one of my names for her is Western Watchin Woman. I usually don't watch the damn things because I've seen them all, many many many times and frankly, I'm sick to death of them. Heck, I know them by heart, like Jaws which, I know isn't a western, but still..Da dun, da dun GAAH!

Anyhoo, WWW has scarred me for life, I mean, I love John Wayne as much as the next good ole American redneck, but you usually can't pay me to watch one of his movies unless it's McClintock, because Maureen O'Hara is so cool in it. I love the end when he tosses his hat up on the weather vane and she croons, "Never misses." What she really means is *coughs* good sex *coughs* He'd damn well better never miss, because you know and I know ain't no way she'd put up with his crap without some serious sock rockin' in the bargain. Hell, he's The Duke! I'm not talking about a Duke movie this time though, it was a fair chance it would be because the hubby is just as in luuurve with him and even more so with O'Hara. Dear God, she's got red hair, she's Irish and she's mean, he'd jump her geriatric ass right now, are yall kidding me? Hubby's a hoor.

I caught the title of the movie in question because I'd just added Kim Harrison et al's Holidays Are Hell antho to my wishlist on Amazon and hooted at her kewl bastardization of yet another Clint-flick. I love that! Dead Witch Walking, The Good the Bad and the Undead, Every Which Way but Dead, A Fistful of Charms, and For a Few Demons More are all plays on his movies. It took me a few titles to get that because I'm goofy. Plays on words are some of my favorite things. In the Holidays are Hell antho, she does it again with Two Ghosts for Sister Rachel, which brings me to my movie of the day, Two Mules for Sister Sara and my freak out for the week, or probably the rest of the year, depending on what the hell else the woman does. I just never know with her.

I love Clint, for real. He's a tough bad ass s.o.b. and he don't take no prisoners in his Dirty Harry movies. Many remember him mostly for these and the line "Do ya feel lucky punk, well do ya?" I do too, it's a cool line. But, my mother thought he was a hawt cowboy and she said so, repeatedly. At the time I thought boys had cooties and I thought ew. Wait, I still think boys have cooties, but that's beside the point. Some of her Clint's Most Hawt Genes must have transferred to me if only by osmosis because I saw a resemblence today albeit faint between her crush and my own. *gulp* I.. I.. I can't be crushin on my man because my mother liked someone over twenty years ago, can I? He doesn't really look like him, does he? But that's exactly what I thought when I saw Clint sans hat with his beard and that hat hair which.. is.. sort of sticking straight up in the damn air. Oh damn. Clint don't got cooties, he was sorta hot. I know some will say I'm crazy but they look enough alike to make me think, Aack! I've turned into my mama! Kitta laughed and so did Meme, they're so mean to me.

You be the judge. Heck, if I'm wrong, you have to admit a blog's always better..

with a picture of Hugh.

And hell, Clint ain't half bad either.

Jenn
Not tha Mama yet cuz Charles Bronson.. um no.

Tomorrow is Friday. So to celebrate..

2007-08-30T20:11:00.000-07:00

Excerpt anyone?

“He’s been shot.” She fought the panic that threatened and slid to the floor, keeping her body well out of range of the windows. Tearing a long strip off her skirt, she frantically searched for Marcus’s wound in the dark confines of the car. Another shot rang out and glass sprayed in from the side window.
“Hold on.” The car swerved to one side as Mick fought to steer.
She tried to focus on Marcus lying so still but she couldn’t see a damn thing. The car swerved more sharply, throwing her across him. Her hand skidded across his shoulder and came away sticky with blood. Marcus groaned, but she was grateful she’d found the wound. She pressed the material against his shoulder but it soaked with blood too quickly for her peace of mind so she tore off more and applied that to the wound too.
“Hold on,” Mick said again. This time there was the scream of metal on metal and the car shuddered with the impact.
She looked out of the shattered window and a pair of glowing amber eyes stared right back at her. Someone in a large black SUV was trying to run them off the road. Without a thought, she hurled the water bottle at the moving car. She was shocked when it connected with the man’s forehead. She let out a triumphant whoop at the resultant thunk and muttered curse then took off her shoes and threw them too. One hit the doorframe and the other went through the other car’s window. She hoped she put someone’s eye out. Too bad she couldn’t get boomerang action with those babies.
Mick howled with laughter. He hit the accelerator and the limo leapt ahead of the large SUV.
“Here they come again,” she yelled.
This time they hit the limo dead-on. She clutched at Marcus when they began to slide down the steep incline. The car rolled over. It all seemed to happen in slow motion; Marcus’s weight pressed her against the ceiling then the floor. Metal shrieked and glass shattered. She didn’t have time to do anything but hold onto his body for dear life.
The car came to rest on its roof at the bottom of the ravine with Lainie trapped beneath Marcus’s unconscious form. Her head hurt but it was a miracle she was alive at all. She tried to get out from under him, but he had her pinned.
Lainie turned her head to one side to look out the one remaining window. The moon was almost full, she thought idly, and then wondered if she had a concussion because of what else she saw.
A shadow, large and looming, and coming closer.
A growl came from the other side of the car. She froze.
Maybe she was hallucinating. Yeah, she hoped so. Or dreaming. Or—
A large furred paw stepped into her line of sight.
“Holy shit!” she hissed and increased her struggles to get out from under Marcus.
Outside of the car, clearly visible on the stark red rocks were big furry creatures like the one in her nightmare. And, she recalled with sudden vivid clarity, like the one that took Jade. One of them was a wolf, but the rest were something in between. Werewolves had stepped out of the myths and legends to scare the hell out of her. They stood on two legs, and there was growling, lots of it. The car rocked back and forth and more of the furred feet appeared on the side closest to her and Marcus.
“Damn,” a deep, gravelly voice said from above her line of sight. “The gas tank’s busted.”
One of the werewolves leaned down to peer at her. His large furred head filled the window.
She blinked rapidly, thinking if she did it enough, he’d disappear.
“Hi there, sweetie, I think it’s time to blow this pop stand.” Despite the deepness of his voice, it held a southern drawl and sounded faintly familiar. She squeaked when a pair of black-furred hands tipped with some seriously gnarly claws reached into the window and grabbed her by the shoulders. He ignored her frantic protests, pulled her out and set her on her feet.
She stared up into his bright amber eyes and swallowed hard. Easily two feet taller than she and heavily muscled, he was one monstrous wolf dude. He snarled, showing off a set of long ivory fangs. Fangs? Shit fire and save the matches! This was worse than any horror movie she’d watched from between her fingers. He was broad and big, and if she wasn’t mistaken, leering at her. Ew!
“I’ll be damned.” He leaned down for a closer look, then a surreptitious sniff. “It’s Lainie!” This was met with a few chuckles from the other big wolf, men, er, things.
“This ain’t old home week, dude. Get Marcus out before the car blows up.” The big silver werewolf shoved them aside and Lainie took in the reverent way he lifted Marcus out of the wreckage. “When we find out who the fuck did this shit, they’re gonna pay.” Silver wolf snarled, showing some impressive fangs of his own. Nice dental plan.
“What are you?” She tried and failed to keep the quiver of fear out of her voice.
“Wolves, sweetie,” the black one answered, squeezing her arm gently. “Well, right now, Wolfkin, except for the throwback over there.” He indicated the lone “wolf” of the bunch. That was to say the one that looked like an actual wolf, if you discounted his size and the weirdly knowing yellow eyes that stared out of his silver-furred face.
She stood frozen with shock while they stripped Marcus out of the shirt and jacket she’d thought he’d looked so handsome in earlier. As the moon struck his bare flesh, she was horrified to see fur growing out of his smooth skin. He moaned and his mouth opened to reveal fangs growing longer before her very eyes. Marcus was one of them? A sense of betrayal made her blood boil, unfreezing her paralyzed muscles.
Mick came around the side of the car and Lainie waited for him to shoot these freaks of nature. Instead, he lowered his head in a sign of submission and whined. Low, menacing growls reverberated from deep within the silver one’s chest. Somebody was in trouble, and she had a niggling suspicion that it might be her.
With that thought screaming through her head, she did what any woman with more than two brain cells to rub together would do in her situation. She rammed her elbow into fur boy’s belly, lifted the hem of her tattered skirts and ran like hell. If she wasn’t so scared, she might have laughed at the comment she heard from the black Wolfkin.
“Dammit all to hell. Why do they always run?”
Was he serious? She didn’t stick around to find out, just poured on the speed, attempting to distance herself from the nightmare her life had just become.

Why I'll Never Be One of the Shiny Happy People

2007-08-25T12:43:00.000-07:00

I'm too mean to be suck up and too much my mother's daughter to hide the fact. Now, I am a Southerner, which means I can bullshit with the best of them but there's a point where the bullshit walks and that's when it does serious harm. Others like to stir it til it stinks and then back off so the shit never sticks to them. I like to call them the Teflonics. Today, I'm blogging about them. Now, If you fit into this category don't read any further. If you do and it pisses you off, well, ain't that a bitch. Oh, the video doesn't fit exactly but the lyrics are damn close and I like it alot, hopefully it'll show up.

The Teflonics-Shiny Happy People-at least on the outside.

So, you've got that elusive IT. The thing that makes people follow you around with stars in their eyes. Your shiny IT is so bright it blinds your followers to your faults. If they're lucky, those faults are tiny things, maybe you fudge a bit when you divvie up the lunch bill and they wind up paying for your Diet Coke and double fudge brownie. Seriously, sycophants, should jump at the chance to shell out some cash for your company, right? Riiiight.

However, some lemmings ain't so lucky. Those supernovas superimposed over their retinas might be blocking something much more insidious--like the rotten little core under that gleaming hide. That's right, there's a pitch black lump of coal where most people have hearts and it beats at a slow calculated pace beneath a sparkly coating of sugar. In my experience and believe me, living down here, I've got some with the honeyed Mata Hari--hell, I'm kin to some of the best in the business--when you crack that shell what you're more than likely to find is pure unadulterated bullshit. Remember what I said about bullshit? It's fun to fool around with, but it still stinks when it sticks to you. Most don't know it's going to hit their fans until it's too late, because these shallow vapid folks spend a whole lot of time buffing that brittle coating of sugar to a high glossy sheen to hide their lack of polish in other areas. They do this when they should be examining their motives and maybe, just maybe, cleaning up their act.

Since there's no little blue pill for CD --conscience dysfuntion-- I don't see a quick fix in the future for the problems in the world today. People like the ones described above should look into harmless, useless careers like modeling or bubble gum pop stars. Heck being a mindless coat hanger would be right up their alley. Hey, even running for public office would be grand because they'd fit right in with the rest of the sharks who have smooth skin as long as you rub them the right way. Are yall getting my point? I've probably skewered myself on it, but I could give a damn. All I'm saying is people with CD should take a long hard look at themselves in the mirror and ask themselves "Do I like what I see?" If the answer is yes, well, sweetie, that makes one of us.

I wanted to be purple

2007-08-21T19:56:00.000-07:00

A WHITE Dragon Lies Beneath!

If there ever was an apparition of balance, power and reclusive intelligence, your Inner Dragon is it. Whites are a fairly common dragon and are considered one of two harmonious dragons. Your antithesis is the evil Black Dragon. Together, you two embody the Yin and Yang concept of eastern religions (especially Taoism).

Though you might find that neat in passing, it's not really what a White is all about. You like to think things out, plot against enemies, and look down upon the world from the highest mountain peaks. Your favorable attributes are the Day, the Sun, reaching for spirituality, truth, a positive attitude, and helpful magic. Humans only need fear you when they stray into your domain without proper payment for passage. Of course, that payment would probably be a cake the size of a Volkswagen, but hey, if they wanted to move through your turf they should have brought it, right? If someone ever threatens you, your Inner Dragon would likely tell you to hit and run, or just plain run. If they really wanted a fight you'd be an impressive opponent, considering you pack a breath weapon combination of Fire and Lightning. Even the nicest dragons can do some serious damage.

Converting Others to Javaism

2007-08-19T01:45:00.000-07:00

Today whilst in the supermarket I ran into Teen Mean's BF-In Law. Look, I know that's not a real term, but what else can I call her? Seriously. Anyway, she thinks Teen Mean is sweet and some junk. *pauses* LMAO!! That's so funny! Jeez. Okay where was I? Oh yeah. Apparently BF of Teen Mean aka Crazy Boy (CB), as he's nuts for real, has become obsessed with the with the Queen of the Bean. That's right, he too worships at the altar of the Java Goddess. *kneels and genuflects* Ahh Starbucks, thank you NorthWest!! Maybe they should have stopped there though. *mo of silence for Kurt* However, flannel? Please. No.

On with my story..

Poor BF in law did not realize this at first and thought that CB was being sweet and taking trips to Funroe out of the goodness of his heart. However, CB's evil kid bro NARC'd him out and now she knows about his caffeine addiction. She blamed Jethro the Redneck Jedi. She knows that the force is strong within him and her mother radar picks up the corrupting force inside him. She can tell all who come into contact with him will go to the Dork Side eventually. Already the CB watches The New Guy, 300, Fantastic 4, SpiderMan, XMen (Well, that one's okay Woo Hugh!) etc, with way too much frequency. Soon he'll be in the Comix Store with Jethro, you watch and see. I, Empress JennSoMean will try to stop it , because I know that poor Princess Teen Mean willl be heartbroken, but nobody can resist the Dork Force for long.

I was all too happy to let BF in law think that Jethro was at fault.. in the interests of familial relations, you understand. However, proving himself a tried and true Rebel Alliance Rat, Jethro finked me out. He told her that I was the reason CB was a jonesin java junkie, a teenaged tanked up tart! Me! I'm the one that's innocent and cute and sweet! (shut UP, yes I am!) He's always to take the blame and be the baddie! That was the agreement! My reputation is tarnished. Our treaty is null and void! Jethro is a pooh head. I shall never buy him another Iced Green Tea Latte' w/Whipped Cream as long as we both shall live. That's a promise! Well, unless he gives me the sad eyes, I'm a fool for those. The Dork Force is strong within him. His light saber ain't half bad either. *grins*

Jenna Leigh

The Jenmpson is Partying On Down

2007-08-17T22:04:00.001-07:00

I have that shirt you know, but my hair don't look that good. Man, I'm jealous.
Go here. http://www.simpsonizeme.com To get your Homertization of yourself. Thanks to
Kaz Augustin for hooking me I mean, showing me this. D'oh!

Also, join me and the other Champagne Authors for a 24 hour Beach Party at Coffee Time Romance's yahoo loop. Be there or be square. Peerless leader is offering discounts by the bucket loads and we promise not to kick sand in your face, honest.

If you're a hot hunk though, all bets are off on the beggin to rub oil on your back. Sorry, that's just how we were wired.

Other news, while I've got your ear.

4 Cups for The Last Legacy!!

The Last Legacy is a wonderful and overall sexy fantasy read that I will soon not forget. I found myself laughing at the antics and conversations between each loopy character….Fans of comedy and a wonderful romance ….will especially enjoy this tale.
~Kate at Coffee Time Romance

5 Lips for The Wolf's Heart!

The Wolf’s Heart ... is an engrossing and exceptional book..it was like taking a journey with the characters. Jenna Leigh held me in the palm of her hand and controlled my emotions with her every word. [The author] keeps the story flowing quickly and it’s never stagnant. The dialog is fresh and witty and the action intense. I’ll be keeping a copy of The Wolf’s Heart on my e-reader for a long time! This is one book you MUST read!
~Tara Renee at Two Lips Reviews

I'd like to thank both these ladies so much for giving me such wonderful reviews!

Jenna Leigh

Hellmouth a Safe Haven or.. Big Brother?

2007-08-12T09:35:00.000-07:00

During the bad stuff that happened on Friday we fled to the Hellmouth. The fact that it became a refuge of sorts is scary in of itself, but it got me to thinking what if? And for a writer--me anyway--that's a dangerous thing.

What if the Hellmouth became Big Brother and started scanning your genitic code when you came in the door? Think about it. Those big grey monolithic thingis are sitting right there. You don't really think they're just for scanning CD and DVD's do you? Oh come on people! Get with the paranoia program! Slide on down my psychopath. You know you want to. It's easy just avoid the potholes though they're a bitch... and so am I. *grin*

Picture it:
The Nananator walks in the door and the place explodes! *snicker* Okay, seriously. Her skin emits a certain odor, a smell, or phermone that's picked up by those innocent grey things we all walk between because we're honest folk. As she does so, a silent alarm goes off, and lights flash red in the darkest abyss in the furthest reaches of the bowels of Ze Hellmouth. They immediately know. IT'S THE MAGPIE! TIME TO RESTOCK ALL THE SHINY SHIT AND THE SHOES!

Aisle 1: Captain Capitalist?
CC: Yes, Red One?
Red 1: We have two more blips on our buy-dar. They are somewhat like the Nananator but slightly altered by their different genetic backgrounds. One has been contaminated by vast quantities of cocoa beans and the other is so tall she simply stepped over sensors, however, we've got their files on record as. *pauses and takes a deep breath* Jennzilla and The Amazon Teen Queen of Mean!

CC: RED ALERT! RED ALERT! Blue One!
Red 1: Yes Captain! I'm um.. standing right here, you don't have to yell. *mutters* idiot.
CC: Tell the Stockers to get out there and make sure we have plenty of THAT ONE'S favorite books on the shelves, chocolate, and for the love of legumes, can someone find some Peter Pan peanut butter? If I have to listen to her whine about the lack of it again, I may jump ship! *peers at the camera* Wait, Teen Mean is going into the dressing room and dragging Jennzilla in with her! The grandmother is wiggling the knob....

Red 1: Leapin' lingerie, they're trying on bras! F... falling prices, did she just throw one over the top of the door?

CC: She did! This isn't Petticoat Junction! Send someone around to..

Red 1: Wait, it slid down. Uh oh, it fell on the Nananator's head and she's staggering around blindly! She's going to run into the wall-o-smartass tee's!

*all gasp*

Red 1: Wait, they let her in. *sighs in relief* Good.

CC: Good? Are you mad? Now all three are in there together! There'll be parish wide panic!

Blue Leader: Captain, there's a phone call for you. It seems that Jennzilla's ally, Jethro the Redneck Jedi, the leader of the Rebel alliance has staged an attack at the Strop City branch of the Hellmouth with his DarthDaddy and the DiaperDemon Spawn. Even now they're hiding action figures,rifling through the baseball cards, and letting the Demon Spawn dive into the bargain DVD bin for the 'good shit they hide at the bottom.'

This report just in: Demon Spawn screamed the words "No damn cookies for Biddy!" and her eyes flashed red to match the lightsaber she hit Jethro with when he bent down to get her shoe for the five (hundreth) time. A lady fainted at the violence, or it could have been because she called him, "Boobah ahhshool' I wonder if that's a demonic chant?

*silence*

CC: You're a spy!

Blue Leader: I'm not a spy! I'm just passing information.

CC: Oh but you are! Otherwise why would you call our fine store the Hellmouth?

Blue Leader: Ha! I'm more than that. I'm Jennzilla's first cousin twice removed. Long live chocy and Peter Pan peanut butter you captilist swine!! Bwhahahahhahah.

The Hellmouth will no longer be scanning the genetic codes of their customers as Jennzilla, Nananator and Teen Mean decided to go into the health and beauty department. Let's just say, Nana found some shampoo in a shiny bottle with a pair of flipflops on the back that had beads on them. Her happy shriek shattered the scanners and the eardrums of Captain Capitalist and R1. They were both of course wearing red vests.

Shopping... The Final Frontier.

Jenna Leigh

PS: Blue Leader aka Bobby Lee escaped into the wilds of Union Parish where he's happily awaiting the start of deer season.

Life in a Small Town

2007-08-10T21:32:00.000-07:00

Should never be scarier than a Stephen King book, but today was. As I sat in my safe little cubicle waiting for the end of Friday little did I know that someone's world was ending right down the street in my tiny town of Bastrop.

Policemen put their lives on the line every single day without thanks, high pay, or recognition. They go in, do their jobs and keep us safe from the bad guys. And sometimes, the worst happens. Today, it did. I won't give out names, as that would be disrespectful to the men who died today and their families. If you'd like to know who they are, I'm sure you can find it, but it won't be on my blog. Needless to say, they died trying to protect us.

Where do I come in on all this? I'm just a secretary in my other usually more boring life of servitude to 'da man' where I work all day to make my ends, if not meet, then at least be able to see each other across a crowded room filled to the gills with bills. While a the SDJ, these men were brought in, along with two others who were shot. These two individuals, while not police officers, also have important jobs, they help save lives. They were injured in the line of duty as well.

My Sucky Day Job and man, yeah, it really does suck, and no, it's not a live saving or protect and serve one, unless you count the fact that my paycheck goes to serve my hubby's hunger. But honestly, after today, I figure, I don't have much to bitch about in the normal course of events. Boss is cool, if evil, I got a/c, and nobody shoots at me. Sort of puts my broke down fax into perspective.

edited so that I could put up the linkies. *we're a little slow in cyberland yall*

For a more indepth, but not objective report about what happened here's the link to the Bastrop Daily Enterprise.

After all, these are friends and family. They work and basically live side by side with each other day after day. These men were friends, family, kith and kin of of the reporters and bystanders. Someone asked in the News Star why they all came out and watched. They weren't rubbernecking, you know. They were caring. They couldn't not come and see, they were trying to in some way, help by praying, observing. It's hard not to be there when it effects your community so strongly. Truthfully, I wouldn't be surprised if some of those rednecks weren't packing in hopes of getting a shot at the ones who killed their friends.

My husband, JMorgan, knew the--I hesitate to say victims, let's go on and call them heroes as that's what they are-- he grew up with them, went to school with them. One of the deceased's has a brother who is on the force as well. Because we're such a small town, everyone knows everyone. On one hand that's great. On the other, when this sort of thing happens, it hits so hard, and I think the shockwaves will become a tsunami for us smalltown folks very soon.

To the families of the police officers who lost their lives, you have my deepest sympathies. Nothing will bring them back, but know that they were loved and well thought of by all of us and they will be missed. You are all are in my thoughts and prayers.

Jenn

For more info and a BOLO for one of the suspects still at large, please go here
Monroe News Star

Nana Lagoon or the River of No Return

2007-07-14T22:47:00.001-07:00

My brother and his family came up from down south today so we went over to my mama's camp on the river. If that sounds like a lot of prepostions, well, too bad. Visiting with family is always fun even if said visit is with a sibling with which the proverbial rivalry has never quite been settled to either parties' satisfaction. Ahem.

Long ago in a galaxy far far away a he was born.

Young and innocent, but all too soon despite his sister's

attempts to keep him from it, he went over to the..

DORK SIDE becoming

DARTH DUFUS.

Note how Jethro (also pictured above) used his Redneck Jedi mindtricks to get the Killer Clones to attack Darth Doofus.

Close up of the clones, they are evil little clones. Hmm, force is strong within these young meanieones.

Jethro the Redneck Jedi training Brookie-kan-shengakankan to fight for the Rebel Alliance. She's a master of .. well her saber's purple, I like purple the best.

Yes, was most amusing to all who watched, including someone so high up in the Rebel Alliance she has a sattelite named after her called the Moon of Jenndor. Not much is known about this moon which orbits the planet called Nana, but it is rumored that Jenndor is populated by scantily clad males who've all had their genes scrambled so they resemble Half Nekkie Hugh, Matt McHottyheyhey, Josh Hottieway and Mohinder WhoisHawt. Now you know why she's smiling in the the picture above. *grin* The waiting list to get onto the planet is long, and the toll is high. Payments may be made to Empress JennsoMean in the form of Godivas, books, posters, iced mochas and (good)movies etc.

Please be advised that the Attack of the Killer Clones is not considered a good movie, however, Star Trek is. Because despite being surrounded by the horrible display above all day (gack) Empress JennsoMean ruler of Jenndor is was and always shall be a Trekkie.

SpocksGurl4Ever

The JennPire Strikes Back!

I'm a Full Featured Girl

2007-07-08T08:49:00.000-07:00

Holly at the The Romance Studio put me in the hot seat.. come see how I held up to the pressure. Faelen thinks it's all about him and Lilly and I let him. The Romance Studio

So.. Killed Anybody Lately?

2007-07-01T19:42:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the ladies on Angela Knight's loop for making me think.. who have I killed and why? Of course, I went skipping down my own personal Psychopath, which is paved with purple bricks. But hey, the scenery's always nice, just watch for potholes, quicksand and falling chunks of chocolate.

There's violence in The Wolf's Heart and in The Last Legacy, more in the former than the latter. People die and um.. I enjoyed killing them. A. Lot. Let me say now, I'm not a potential serial killing freak. Of course, I'd say that even if I were so, I'll give you reasons.

Jenn's a Cereal Mom/Not a Serial One

I'm Only Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, yall.

1) I'm one of the most disorganized people in the whole world. Lists? Ha! I laugh at lists as I lose them in my black hole of a purse!
2) I'm lazy, and all that raising and lowering my arm constitutes exercise.
3) Dead people = Potential zombies. Ew! Brains brains.. acck! OMG!
4) Grudges? I don't need no stinking grudges. Honestly, I just forget crap easily. Who are you?
5) Can't be a tower sniper. Heights are not my friend. Yikes!
6) Hate the sight of other people's blood. Plus there's that germ thing.
7) They don't let you have butter in jail. I live in the Butter Belt.
8) My husband would be stuck with the evil child and cat. *pauses* That's might not be such a bad thing.
9) Most of the people in my area are kinfolk and therefore meaner than me and if not, their mothers most certainly are.

The final and most important reason..
10)My mother lives close enough to cut a switch and be at my house in 20 minutes.

Glad that's out of the way. I'm just garden variety crazy, not insane. So, does writing violence mean I'm a violent person? Nah. I wouldn't hurt someone. In fact, I couldn't do it the way I wrote in my books. I'm not a 7ft tall werewolf, a vamp or a witch. I can't cast spells, rip off limbs or any of the things I've written, but I can imagine it. I can see it being done. I can feel the power flowing through that character, I can for one moment, on that page, in that paragraph become that man or that woman who've come to kick ass and chew bubble gum. Of course, they're all out of bubble gum so we all know what happens then.

So who did I kill? That's a secret I'll take to my grave. In Wolf's Heart you may think you've figured it out, but it's just rage against the proverbial machine that needed an outlet. Ripping off arms, legs and well.. you'll have to buy the book for all the gory details. If you're thinking it's just a funny book like Braless or Spellfire, it's not. The heart of a wolf is dark and hungry, so be warned.

In The Last Legacy it isn't so obvious who my real victim is. And though some might think Lilly's mama is mine. She's so not.. the only real similarities between the two would be their neatness. My own mother would never repress my dreams. However, there is a point where I could see my mama's tendencies in each of the female characters. They all got into the action at some point, because I refused to let Faelen save the day, entirely. Women can be defenders and champions too.

Creativity is a chaotic process, beautiful yet at the same time, wonderfully terrifying and yes, violent, a lot like birth. There's a reason people use drugs to help with both of these. But with the results of creative births, we make the choice, buy it or leave it on the shelf. Read it or not. Personally, I'm okay with violence as long as it stays safely in books, TV shows, movies and yeah even rap songs.

I do think that writing violence helps me with my every day frustrations with my fellow ass.. um.. humans. After a particularly bloody scene I can smile and pretend to be a nice person. I'm not all that mean anyway, but still it helps me attain that southern belle sweetness that for so long eluded me. Yall know, that phony public face nobody really believes but helps you make it through the day without being fired from the Sucky Day Job. *meh*

The Fake Sweet Southern Belle Known As,

Jennda

Fantastic? Hmm, pretty good.

2007-06-30T20:59:00.000-07:00

It's been established that my hubby has a deep and abiding love of comic book flicks. In fact, I dub him Sir William, The Duke of Comic Cinema. Whilst I being a good and trusting wife slaved over the shopping list in ZE HELLMART, he ran off to the electronics department. Oh, fine.. I was sniffing the shampoo, are yall happy? I like to sniff the shampoo, it's one of my all time fave things in the whole wide world! Sheesh! The point is this, His Grace of Geekdom got into a slight altercation with the Concubines of Capitalism at our fine department store. All about this...

He wanted this movie they said they didn't have it. He roamed around until he found an entire end cap full of them. This usually laid back man became a royal pain the the ass and stalked back to the counter informing them of the movies' location. (by shoving the DVD in their faces) He then came over to me and said they couldn't find their butts with both hands and a map. It could have gotten ugly if not for the distraction of the strawberry milkshake oreo cookies I'd placed strategically in my buggy.

So, we came home and after the putting away of groceries, some into airtight containers to keep them away from the invasive ants (grr) I lay down to rest on the couch and was subjected to this movie. (It's on again as I type by the way) It was better than I thought it'd be, not as good as say X-Men as sadly, there's no Hugh Jackman to be found anywhere, despite me looking for him. *coughs* All I'm sayin is any movie is made better for the blatant placement of the Half-Nekkie Hugh, or any blog for that matter.

Where was I? *blink blink blink* Oh, yes. What in the world were these Fantastic Fruitcakes thinking when they threw their lot in with a man named Victor Von Doom anyway? I mean really, yall, I know he's not that sort of doctor-- though he plays one on TV*snicker*--but if I were a patient and he came into my room holding out that sinisterly shiny hand of his saying, "Hi, I'm Dr. Von Doom.." That's it.. I'd be out the door before the lights could blink twice.

He was hot on Charmed too but even then.. gack! He was a demon therefore, bad. Since Sue and Reed are all smart and some junk, I know they don't watch TV except for the news or maybe a documentary on the migration habits of the Mongrovian fruit bat for shits and giggles. *rolls eyes* But I'm betting The Human Torch aka Mr. Man Hoor aka Johnny never missed an episode of the WonderBra Witches, so he should have known that Vic was a baddie before they ever hopped a rocket with him. Doom is not a person I'd be going into space with. Surely that name's a jinx. And you know he's bad anyway because he's the only one who's got any dang money in the whole movie!

Only the rich and powerful are really bad in comic movies, unless they have an English accent, a disability and are um.. bald. *Ref to Charles Xavier X-Men home of Half Nekkid Hugh*

If you're mysteriously wealthy, can walk, have all your hair and have an English accent even though you're from Germany and you're Jewish, well, you are bad! Wait, no not bad, yes, bad, no, sort of ambiguous, no bad! We're not sure really, all we know is your powers are gone. Or are we? That chess piece moved. Hmm. Dammit! *Ref to Magneto X-Men Home of.. ahem.. anyway.*

If you have all your hair, can walk and are rich (or were before you lost yo' mind) have a big science-y brain and/or are willing to experiment on yourself and hate spiders, you might be a Spiderman baddie. *Ref to Norman Osborn aka the Green Goblin and his son Harry aka Lil Green and also Dr. Otto Octavius* I think someone didn't care for his science teacher.. hmm.

Note: I only meet one of the above qualifiers, thank you very much! Wait, three , I got hair, I can walk and spiders are really icky. Well, I don't care.. Spiderman sux. More Half Nekkid Hugh!!

While Fantastic Four has made HRH happy.. I wasn't as impressed. Of course, I grade on a different scale. No Hugh and nobody as cute as Ghost Ridin' Nick Cage in a damp towel or as oldster sexy as Sam Elliot either. The action was great though and my fave character of the entire movie was Tha Thang.

Wait a minute, if he's the Duke, that makes me..The Duchess of Geekdom!
*grr*
Jenna

Time to Howl!!

2007-06-26T17:16:00.000-07:00

It's out! I'm so happy I could, well, to tell the truth, I'm too tired to do much more than wiggle my butt around in my chair right now, but I can shake that thang, lemme tell ya.

Blurb: When a nosy reporter reunites with a werewolf in tycoon’s clothing, sparks fly and passions ignite. The burning question is, who’s taming who?

Investigative Reporter Elaine Westerbrook is determined to find the answers to the questions that haunt her. Plagued all her life by dreams of creatures that can’t possibly exist, she’ll do anything to get the information she needs, up to and including reigniting a fire with the deliciously mysterious Marcus Bei—a fire she thought extinguished long ago.

Marcus Bei fought tooth and claw to be an Alpha in the corporate world but it’s nothing compared to being Alpha of his pack. It’s lonely at the top as the Lupin of the Arizona werewolf pack, but that’s the price he’ll pay to keep his pack safe from his father and others like him. So when childhood sweetheart Elaine walks back into his life, his first instinct is to shove her right back out again. But Marcus can’t find the strength to push away the very thing his other half has been waiting for so long—his mate.

Together, Marcus and Elaine search for the truth and find out if they have a future in spite of a past threatening to tear them apart. Will Elaine run when she discovers what Marcus really is, or will she accept The Wolf’s Heart?

Doin' the Chair Cha Cha

Jenna Leigh

The Last Legacy is out now!

2007-06-21T16:53:00.000-07:00

Yeehaw!!

Lilly Tremaine only thinks she wants to live in a fantasy world. Meeting Faelen McKenna might change her mind. He is a wyvern and a very special one, able to change into a man, if only at night. The guardian of her family for almost a thousand years, he’s here to protect her. When they finally meet face to face, sparks fly. Unfortunately, they are flying from Lilly’s eyes because he has to be the most exasperating man she's ever met.

When he whisks her off to the magical realm of Aetherea, she is amazed at the denizens of this new land. Gods, elves, fairies, muses, dragons and queens are all living in a parallel universe that exists alongside reality. However, danger looms on the horizon, because someone is trying to keep Faelen and Lilly apart. They fight the forces of evil to achieve what every fairy tale must have, a happy ending.

He grinned mischievously at her and spoke in a monotone. "You’re traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind, a journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That’s the signpost up ahead: Your next stop: The Twilight Zone."

She jumped when the theme song began to play on the radio. "Make that stop!" She put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes. What if she turned her head and that banshee thing was looking in her window? She would die on the spot. She hated that movie, hated that part of the movie even more so. The thought of it still had the power to give her chills. Lilly used to imagine the engine-ripping hag sitting on a tree branch outside her window waiting for her to look at her before she ripped out her heart.

When nothing scratched at the window, she opened one eye and looked around. It all seemed normal. However, years of cinematic training had taught her that’s exactly what they wanted her to think before they got her. She shuddered, cursing every book and movie she’d ever read for fueling her imagination about how bad the ‘they’ could actually be.

"Lilly, calm down. This isn’t the Twilight Zone. It’s only another place, slightly to left of the center of the universe. My kind isn’t normal, so we don’t have a normal place where just anyone can find it. This is the land of magic, the fairy, if you will. One owns this pub we’re going to, in fact. Come on." He got out and hurried around to open her door.

She sat with her fists clenched tightly in her lap. When he opened the door and the light came on, she gave another squeak and cringed. "Don’t be the banshee lady."

"Lilly! I’m not the banshee lady. She owns the music store down the street. She’s very nice."
Despite his reasonable tone, she refused to leave the safety of the car. Instead, she curled up a little further in the seat. He squatted down beside her and put his hand on hers, giving it a tug. "Come on."

"No, you go on ahead, I’ll be fine right here, honest." She closed her eyes again.

"I will protect you, I promise." He sounded sincere, plus, she hadn’t heard any banshees howling yet.

She cracked one eye open. "Swear?"

"Yes." He raised his right hand and gave her a solemn look. She stared back just as solemnly then, with a decisive nod let him help her out of the car. Her legs were shaky, but the warmth of his hand on her arm was reassuring. Lilly smoothed her dress, then her hair.

"Stop fidgeting, you look fine." He put his arm around her waist as he led her to the door of the pub. Soon they stood before an ancient round door studded with square-headed nails. It looked like the entrance to a dungeon, or hell. Either way, she was sure whatever lay behind it would terrify her. Banshees? There were actually banshees? This sucked rocks.

Faelen knocked, and a small panel about midway on the door opened.

"Who is it?" someone hissed.

"Who the hell do you think?" Faelen leaned down and glared at the person behind the door. "Let me in, dammit. It’s cold."

"Bloody hell, you again?" The panel slid closed and Lilly sighed in relief. Good, they couldn’t go in; she was fine with that, really. Then came a sound designed to fill a person with dread, a sound to chill the bones, and still the beating of a person’s heart. It was the creaking of the door opening.

Trailer Trash Barbie and Her Little Sister is Skipper

2007-06-16T19:01:00.000-07:00

Thanks to an email from Jamie Hill I have a Rant.. I mean blog subject. Britney Spears, who's been acting like she ain't got the sense God gave a billy goat now wants her fans to name her CD for her. Seriously she expects people to buy it, she should at least have the decency to name it.

She started out with a bang. I remember when she jumped out onto the stage in her white pants and pink belly baring top shaking her jailbait money maker like she had good sense. I know people wondered what her mama was thinking. I can guess what Mama Spears thought cause, I know the area the vapid little cow hails from. There ain't no future down there for girls but marrying some loser with kids of his own, who only wants to make her pregnant ASAP.

Wait, that's what happened with KFed. Hmm. Apparently, even the goofy as she is, she could see the irony of her situation because she started drinking and partying hard. Of course, she's 'sober' and is in rehab now. At least she will be until the get out of jail party her friend Paris Slut-ton throws.

Well, she'd best shape up! Hasn't she ever watched Steel Magnolias? Dolly Parton would bitch slap her with a curling iron then give her one of her wigs, and let's face it, she needs it because whatever that thing is she's been wearing looks like poodle that's been run over by truck. If it were up to me, we'd rescind her citizenship making so she could NEVER cross the Louisiana state line again and take that insanimaniac family of hers with her.

Now look none of us are perfect down here. People love our 'Cajun Cookin' but we're even more famous for our crooked politicians past and present. Then, there were those crazed looters who stole jewelry and furs because dammit they were hungry *rolls eyes* haven't we all had a tasty grilled diamond bracelet? As Rachel Raye would say, "Yummo!" Then there's the familiar refrain of "Who dat talking bout beatin dem Saints, who dat?" And the even more familiar snarky reply of "Basically, every team in the NFL, har har har!" That's fine, LSU won so yall can just kiss our Lagnappe, ya hear? But damn, that girl gives us good Louisiana folks a bad name.

I'm going to say this for all of us downhome, backroad, country girls who have kept our mouths shut because we've had what we like to call home raising. We were taught to be polite, not to raise a fuss. But there comes a time in every Southern Girl's life when enough is enough. It's time to face the ugly truth. Britney please, for the love of gumbo, stop flashing your hoohah by 'mistake'. That's a lie, yall. Every Southern girl learned from the time she could walk, how to get out of a frickin Bigfoot truck in a short skirt and high heels on Sunday morning without showing the preacher what they got. If that girl wants me to believe she can't get out of a lowslung limo without showing the free world her Brazilian, well, she's out of her shaved little brain. And if she can't.. here's a thought..wear underwear.

Perhaps she's just been away too long. Britney, honey, stop flashing. For one thing, it's not the season for it. And another, even during Mardi Gras, every Louisiana girl knows the phrase is "Show Us Your Tits" not your bits.

Bayou Babe

Jenna Leigh

Somthin' Sinister's A'Slitherin' at the Circle K

2007-06-01T20:56:00.000-07:00

I'm a former employee of this chain of stores whose only real claim to fame was being in the fine piece of cinema known as Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. You know the movie that launched fine actors such as Alex Winter and others. Except the dude that played Ted, his career just went nowhere, huh? But , I'm not here to talk about cute yet wooden-faced actors who can't act for crap (unless he's high), but look damned good doing it. (Well, perhaps when I was high)

No, this is about the Circle K, namely the one in my Redneck of the woods. One of the employees of Circle K called my father-in-law (the manager) a few minutes ago to come and kill a five foot long water moccasin. His reply. "Kiss my old Irish arse. I'm disabled, remember? Oh yes I am dammit! I'm diabetic!" *click*

Now, I realize what you're all thinkin'. Ah, this is Jenn, she says she lives in 'das stix' so, what's the big deal? Yeah yeah, I live in the sticks but Circle K is in what passes for the city around here. Stroptropolis, if you will. Then, and here's the kicker. This is the fourth very large water moccasin they've gotten out of Circle K in the past month. I'm not really afraid of snakes. Okay, don't get me wrong, I'm not their biggest fan either, but a water moccasin is not one of my favorites because it's aggressive, territorial and if you wanna know the freakin truth, just plain mean.

I don't know about yall, but I figure it's time to call in a professional or failing that a psycho, namely my mother. She feels snakes and sharks are all out to get her anyway and has adopted "Shoot them suckers first" as her motto, hell, it's on our family crest. If you're wondering, that would be a hand written sign to warn people about stealing our crap. People meaning strangers who don't know about my mother.

I figure my father-in-law could give my mama a carton of siggies, a pair of boots, and a box of ammo and just let her go to town in there. He'd get rid of the snakes and the store would be well ventilated by the time she was done. Being that it is my mother, before she left, the candy would be color coded, dusted, and aligned with the planet Venus too. You do not want to freaking know what it was like living with Mondo Mommy Dearest From Hell. She should be glad she ain't well ventilated is all I'm sayin.

So, please, be aware that the snakes are out and apparently, they think they're supposed to be shoppin at the local convenience stores. Okay, I don't know what they're thinkin' but unless you've got my mother on your hip (God knows she'd fit!) just be careful.

Luv and Hisses!

Jenna

Like Pulling Teeth

2007-05-29T18:24:00.000-07:00

Most women when faced with their children in distress or pain. Freak. Me? Well, I think it's been established I'm not most women. Okay, don't get me wrong, I'm not laughing at her. She's hurting. I get that. But really, I've had teeth pulled. It's not that bad. Let me go one further and say, I've had teeth pulled without the benefit of gas and/or intravenous drugs. It's. Not. That. Bad.

Shots. That's all I'm saying.

I took my kidlet to the oral surgeon to have her wisdom teeth cut out. She just had to have her bf along for teenaged moral-less support. My mother gagged when she heard about it and informed me she was going to need insulin it was just that sweet, but that's beside the point. Anyway, I went back in the room with Mozilla, Amazon Teen Queen of Mean. She informed me that she'd rather the bf, went with her. Well, by God, I went back there with her. Cause I'm the mommy, that's why! (no yall didn't ask, she did!)

Those long legs of hers hung off the edge of the chair, touching the floor, so it was sorta funny. But, I teared up when her big brown peepers never left mine, and she kept hold of my hand really tight. I confess to holding on way after she passed out completely too. *sniffs* Then, they broke out them freaky socket wrenches and I ran back to the safety of the waiting room to hide under my hubby's arm like a scared lil bunny rabbit. Yes, her bf asked about her and he looked worried. I may need insulin too. *sniffs* Oh shut UP!

After a few minutes, I stepped outside to sniffle in peace and called the Nananator and told her she was under the influence of the 'good drugs', and then told her the bad news. Since hubby had to go to work (grr) we weren't going to come by her job on our way back since we had to stop off to the Hellmouth for gummy wummy mouth mouth food for the Mozilla. Five (I kid you not) seconds later, she calls back. "I'm on my way." Dear God, the woman is such a baby! *sniffs* I said shut up!

Well, crap! Right after that, it was over and they've got her parked out back in a wheelchair waiting on us to pick her up. So, I call my mama back and tell her to meet us at Hellmouth. Then, it's getting this 6ft heifer in the car. She's higher than a Georgia pine, but finally her father and the bf get her in the back of the truck. Wait, let me rephrase. We have her in the back of the Explorer with the seat down and a pillow under her head. I do NOT have my baby in the back end of a pickup truck. Ahem. She proceeeds to take the gauze out her mouth and wave it around trying to hand it to me, making her bf and her father gag and scream. Oh the joy. Evil doped up child. (smiles)

Anyway, I shall refrain from comparing my husband's (slowass) driving to my mother's (like a bat outta hell, yall)abilities, so, when we pull into the parking lot, I'm not surprised to see that we are almost broadsided by The Nana Mobile. However, the hubby, who thinks he drives like Dale Jr instead of Ms Daisy, is and screams extra loud, making my doped up daughter's boyfriend do the same. This makes my doped up daughter sit up and yell "MMPH?" in wideeyed surprise.

I answer, "Nana."

Mozilla "Mmph." Falls back on the seat.

Then we have the ice cream, popcicle, drink fight. Do not fight with your child when she's on the 'good drugs' Just buy her whatever you want. Do not try to get her to understand that you're going to buy her a drink and popcicles or ice cream. It will not happen. Oh and make sure her boyfriend isn't RECORDING YOU ON THE CAMERA PHONE. I swear if I end up on the You Tube, someone's ass is grass and I'm gonna be the lawn mower. For Real.

Jenn Deere
I mean it!

I Write Corrected

2007-05-20T00:13:00.001-07:00

Hard as it is to admit, I need mondo editing. Yeah yeah yeah, I know very well I'm not perfect. But when you write a character, flawed as they are, you want to think they are. I know that sounds weird, but it's true. I don't want a character who never makes a mistake, how boring, how icky. I'd hate him or her and would want to kill them by the second page if you must know. Villains are the only perfect characters, and they are the only ones who see themselves as such because they're crazier than a cracker jack.

**Author Note: Hey now, I know I'm nuts! But I also know I'm not perfect, I'm just the regular garden variety sort of crazy, not that take over the world kind. Let's call me lazy crazy, okay? This means, I won't take over the world, but if someone hands it to me, I'll say, "Thank yall!" and make Hugh Jackman my pool boy. Lazy crazy like a fox in other words *drool*

Fantasies of unlikely world and even unlikelier hunky Aussie domination aside, it's bad enough writing the stupid sucksnotsissy (yuckamundo). Then you have to get your courage up to submit the darned thing. After that, you wait.. and wait.. and wait.. and finally just when you think they hate it. They. Say. Yes! And all is right with the world. Birds sing. Flowers bloom. Author squeals in happy delight. Life is a wonderful thing. Chocolate pales beside being accepted. Wait a dang minute, let's not go too far. Hmm.

Then horror of horrors, you get a file marked edits. You open it and discover that you may very well suck some serious eggs. Now, I'm not talking terrible, not really. But when it's your work, it seems like it. This creation that you slaved over for an eternity, polishing, honing, fixing this world you lived inside, with people you know better than you know some of your own family members--and better than I want to know some of mine--is being criticized by someone who is logical, critical and objective. Hooray for the readers!! Boohoo for your ego. *sniffles*

For a long time I belonged to a group where we jokingly (or not so, in my case) called author Sheri Kenyon the AG--Author Goddess. Now that I write something other than a post or two, I understand that better. She is a goddess because what she writes is divine, however, she also creates a world that's hers alone, though she's gracious enough to share it with so many in that fanfic group.

I've finally figured out that I too I make a world where my characters live. I'm not divine in any sense of the word, or if I am, I'm more along the lines of a Bitch Goddess Supreme, needy, crazy, and er.. a bit sadistic. I'll strip whole scenes and replace them at a minute's notice. I put my characters in the worse scenarios, snickering with glee as I go for the laugh almost every time. I'm the Jokester, the Prankster, the Trickster from Hell. I don't care who knows it either. It's my nature to do what I want, when I want.

But show me edits and I instantly regress to a second grader with my most scary teacher ever. I cringe at the sight of red marks. I quail at all the highlighted words that mean I'm a repeat offender, using the same words again and again. Don't get me started on the comment balloons. I've gone from Bitch Goddess to a postulant in two seconds flat, that's gotta be a record, right?

However, there's something to be learned from all this, besides a lesson in humility, grammar and dear Lord in Literary Heaven, save me from freakin tags please! Never underestimate your editors. They'll keep you from looking like a complete and utter goober. Look at my blog for instance. Nobody edits this thing but me and it shows.

My publisher once joked that I should worship my editor as she saves my ass from the fires of error hell.. I snickered and told her I'd be properly respectful. But what she said is true. They catch stupid mistakes. I'm a writer, not an editor. Creation is a chaotic event. I love my characters which is how it's supposed to be, if I didn't love them, the reader wouldn't either. But as we all know love is a very messy business and editors get the unenviable job of cleaning up an author's work. Artistic temperament anyone?

I don't whine, (out loud) my mouth is too full of therapeutic chocolate to do something so childish. But with all those red pen marks all over the place it makes me feel like I got an F on my report card. I expect my mother to come in at any minute and take away my television as punishment.

So, salute your editor.. worship them Set up altars, eat chocolate in their names. Whatever gets you through the process of doing exactly what they tell you to do. Because they know what they're doing. In the immortal words of my mommy. "This hurts me more than it hurts you, dear. " I highly doubt that, but I'm using that phrase and hella coffee to get through it all. Ohmmm.

Blue Bayou Babe,

Jenna

PS: Yes, the picture of Hugh is there to cheer me up, and yes, it is working.

Chatting Saturday

2007-05-11T21:35:00.000-07:00

The work week getting you down?
Not sure what the weekend holds?
Well now you do now!

Join
J. Morgan
Alysha Ellis
Jenna Leigh
Shea McMaster
Jennifer Loy
Kiera Black

So get ready to kick those Weekday Blues!

Join us Saturday May 12th
Starting at 12pm est

At

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/CK2SKwipsandKritiquesBookClub

for a whole day of love and adventure
As we bring you
to the edge of your seat
to the brink of tears
tickle your funny bone
and just maybe
make you fall in love all over again…
For the first time.

Obsessive MS Polishing Disorder

2007-05-10T12:59:00.000-07:00

Hi I'm Jenna Leigh and I have OMSPD. If you've never heard of it, don't worry.. I just made it up.. at least, I think so. For all I know this is a real disorder complete with its own support group, treatment program and medication. And here I am self-medicating with chocolate and while I deluge my poor friends with panicked IM's asking them. "Do you really really like it? Are you sure? Are you really, I mean really totally really sure you liked it?" Five minutes later. "Really really?" Five seconds later. "When you say really do you mean really or really really?" I'm sure they're ready to move away without leaving a forwarding address and put me on the FBI Most Stalkery List. (again)

What brought on this bout of self doubt and overindulgence in my most favoritist sweet in the whole world? *scuffs toe* I've turned in the final edits on one of my manuscripts. When I do that I get the freak out shakes. Between me and my editor the Sainted One Who Hasn't Killed Me (yet) we've hammered out all the POV switches, bad tags, icky grammar, Communication to Mars (I blame ET) and some parts that just did NOT work. It doesn't take very long for me to figure out that I need editing. What I want to know is how come I can't have an editor for real life? I'd love one!

Sans editor.
Hubby: "Honey, does this shirt look ok?"
Me: "EW!"
Hubby: "What do you mean ew?" Looks hurt and doesn't speak to me for the rest of the day.

With editor.
Hubby. "Honey, does this shirt look ok?"
Me: "EW!"
Hubby. "What do you mean ew?" Looks hurt..
Me. "Um, there's a spot on it." Comes up and sticks her greasy fingers on it while he's not looking.

See? Editing thing is gooood! My problem is finding someone small enough to fit in my ear though. Hmm..

Back to my manuscript. Now that I've turned it in, I'm forcing myself not to look at it again for fear that I'll find a million mistakes and go batty. I know I will.. I'll see this teeny thing that will blare out at me. It'll be Sainted One? On page 20.. then the next day. Um.. er.. page 92.. Then next week, if it ain't too much trouble, can we change this? Until I get a ticking package in the mail.

I know the score.. so I'll sit here not lookin.. no, not me. Not gonna look. Arrgh! I gotta go look! But nobody saw anything! Ok?

If you're crazy and you know it type your name,

Jenna Leigh

Uhh EFO, I don't think we're in Louisiana anymore.

2007-05-04T22:07:00.000-07:00

That was basically what I thought I was gonna have to say to my cat yesterday afternoon.

I was a sweet wife for a change and got supper started before I sat down to surf. I'd just started my 4th day chatting on Jennifer Loy's group when a loud boom of thunder made me change my mind and turn off my computer after telling them I'd be back after it was over. Ha! Ha! I say! Just.. well, it's not too dang funny if you must know.

I went into the kitchen to get the rice on before the electricity went off because in my redneck of the woods, if the sky even spits the lights go out. However, as I was filling up the boiler with water, I happened to look outside and see how dark it was and how windy.

I saw a flash and at first I though lightening struck this metal thingit my mother bought me. My first reaction was "Man! She's gonna be so pissed! I bet she's gonna think I broke it and blamed it on lightening!" Note how I was much more upset about that than the fact that lightening struck not 20 yards from my front door. Yeah, dammit my priorities are so too in order, yall ain't met my mother! Then, I see little little balls of lightening in a straight line. I became upset all over again as my husband has planted some bushes beside my metal mama gifted thingit and wondered if it had just become some sort of jumped up lightening rod that fried my hubby's bushes! Arrgh! Now he'd be all bitchy. *sighs* However, very quickly, I figured out three things.

I shall list them in order of importance.

1. My mama gifted metal thingit was safe. (Hello! I am serious, she'd be mondo pissed!)

2. There was a ginormous tree down across the road and what I was seeing as lightening was in fact, electricity, namely MINE being snapped out into the air in a most wasteful manner. How dare that stupid tree take my electricity. I wanted to jump out on my porch and yell at the little escaping pieces of light"Hey hey, come back here you silly stuff, get back into my TV, Stove and most important, MY COMPUTER!"

Too late though because, the lights went out and if my hubby had been there with me, this last one would top the list as he'd be whining loud enough to be heard over the wind that was by then getting way louder.

3. There'd be no rice in my home this night. Well, fffffffffffudge. Oh and none of that either as I can't make it when it's raining, but I digress.

The little pops of light flew up the line until it hit the transformer and I watched wide-eyed as it too went with a loud bang, shooting sparks about ten feet in all directions. At this, I said a few very choice words which I am all too familiar with, turning my dark kitchen air blue. EFO at this time, wisely went into the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink with is his Royal Sanctuary during storm times. I did what all good rednecks do in times of crisis. I CALLED MY MAMA!

Omigosh, mamathere'satreeanditomgomgomgomgomg!windandatandndndnananandACK! If you can't read that, well, imagine how she felt getting that message on her voice mail. Of course, in my defense I was running through the house putting on a pair of shorts, some flipflops and getting my all important purse. Why would I need my purse in 70 plus mile an hour winds? I don't know but by golly, I'd have it just in case.

I thought about going to my father in law's who lives right down the road, but things began to fly across the yard, large heavy things. Things I was sure weighed close to my own *mutter mutter* pounds. Then there was the ginormous trees besides the lightening victim that had been felled by wind, so there was no way I was going out there. I don't have roots , my size ten feet would stand no chance at all. So, I stood in the dark and waited.. and waited and waited until finally.. hubby came home to wait in the dark with me until 11:30 when the lights came back on. I will say this, those linemen were out in the rain and thunder up on those cherry pickers. There's no way I'd have done it.

Until we got our electricity back, we watched crazy rednecks driving back and forth under the lines. I may be a redneck but at least I'm smart (yes, CHICKEN!) enough to just take pictures . Nyah.

Somewhere Over the Bayou

Jenna Leigh

How to Beat the Not Going to RT Blues

2007-04-23T20:46:00.000-07:00

A lot of the authors are off to RT this week, leaving some of us feeling either left out or, if you're me.. like the proverbial mouse when the cat's away. So, I've been thinking, what are some things the shy, the scared or the just plain too dang mean for Romantic Times (this one is me)can do to pass the time while they're all down in Texas with them sexy cowboys? Hmm.. well, let's see. I could write a hot steamy romance to curl a reader's hair and win me awards, make me money and all that. *pauses* Nah, I'd rather be evil, no use going against type now.

5 things to do for those left behind.

1. Make voodoo dolls of all the RT Goers: Everybody can pick someone and get busy then make mystery type ailments befall them. I'm sure all the authors would appreciate a bad hair week. They're usually great sports about stuff like that. Helloo there Don-na King or Donolda Trump, both of them have Don in their names, now that's spooky! I call dibs on er.. well, never you mind, I have a voodoo doll already made. (now they'll all wonder, won't they?)

2. Recruit a SPY. There has to be one of the RT'ers who will sell out their brethren and/or erm.. sistren for a box of high-end chocolate. You know it, and I know it. Well, if I was there, I'd know who to try and bribe with the box. (Yes it is me! Hush!) Hmm, this may take further study.

3. Skip the spy, and get video of the confie via satellite. Oh man, I could be a high-tech redneck for real! Ooh and we could get a few shots of cover model's hotel rooms. All that lovely exposed man flesh, glistening and shiny, and.. What? Like yall didn't think of it! I mean, I'd never condone spying on naked, hot.. um.. Ok, I got a little off track , back to the program.

4. Road Trip! Nuff said. Wait, I'm not riding in the back seat, I get carsick. There now it's nuff said.

5. The last and the one I actually mean: Hope they all have a wonderful trip and come back with wonderful stories to share and slightly embarrassing pics to show us. Actually I'd love for that last bit to happen so if they could all promise to get drunk and pretend it's Mardi Gras that'd be great!

Show Us Your ..

*grin* Jenna

PS: My sweet, nice editor, Angela James (yes, I'm sucking up, yall hush) has the The Left Behind Contest for all us poor deserted souls. The details can be found at either Southern Fried Romance Writers. or at the Samhain Cafe Good luck and may the best book ho win. That'd be me, but I'm just sayin.

Amazon Teen Queen of Mean's Night Out

2007-04-22T00:23:00.000-07:00

Sounds like a good book title huh? LOL. Um well, it's like this see, I don't call her Teen Queen of Mean for nuthin' and I have to sleep in this house while she prowls around free, so if it's all the same to you.. no.

Prom Prep is Hell for girls. And my baby's been getting ready for the Jr/Sr prom for over a month and a half now. For a kid that won't plan more than an hour ahead this is saying something. I'd say I was proud of her planning abilities if she didn't get her World Championship Procrastinating Genes from yours truly. This means I've been dragged around on all these planning trips to get the dress, the shoes, and various bits and baubles that go with everything in between. I'm not going into that dress rehearsal from hell where I was forced to do her hair, make up and all either. I'm not, but I will say I have flashbacks from it.

My aunt was deprived of a lot of this due to the fact that her firstborn was male and therefore spared all this crap. While her second child is a girl, she despises all the pomp and circumstance. What's more, she can and WILL outrun her mother if she so much as thinks that a camera's pointing in her direction. I swear that kid must have been a movie star in another life. (or Bigfoot or Loch Ness Monster or somethin)

So, my sweet auntie was happy when Mozilla of Tall City wanted to go all pinky and frilly to the prom. I was thrilled that someone else wanted to do the work so I didn't have to. She did the garter and all sorts of wonderful frou frou things I'd have hated. My mother just wanted to look at frickin sparkly shoes, and shop for a sparkly dress. Basically, she wanted to buy something sparkly, heck, at least her tiny legs matched her magpie eyes, huh? However, there is a drawback(there always is).

When they found out that we were going to take some pictures of the children at our local museum, they decided to come over and take some too. Unfortunately for my child who will be late to her own funeral, my mother and aunt arrived first and caught her BF all alone.. *evil smile* I've always maintained that my mama and aunt ain't ever met a stranger for the simple fact that there ain't nobody stranger than them. So, they introduced themselves and were basically me to the nth degree times two. I was most impressed at Mozilla's ability to have a complete and utter breakdown in four blocks, but she did it and recovered by the time we arrived.

But when we arrived well.. Oh. My. God. When did my mother become a high tech redneck? She had her digital camera in tow, tripping along after my child and her prom date in her(sparkly) flipflops telling them "Just one more." *click* *flip flop flip* *click*

My aunt? She had on sandals, *tap tap tap* and a faster camera, *click click click* "Aw, sooo cute!!" Just one more.. ad clickium

Together they were the Famarazzi!

Aack!!

Jenna

But You Have Such a Pretty Face

2007-04-21T13:40:00.000-07:00

My blog is a little personal today, so bear with me.
This is a picture my hubby drew, which I think represents my warrior woman tude today. *snorts*

The title of my blog sounds sounds sorta sweet huh? Yeah, right. If these three things appy to you:

1. You weigh more than five bushels of corn.
2. You live below the Mason/Dixon Line
3. You clean up nice.

You've probably heard it before. And if you're a fellow curvy hotty southern cornbread and pot licka eatin' type of sista you're also probably aware that hidden beneath this saccharine sweet little comment hides one of those patented Southern Belle Bitch types slurs that goes like this "Too bad your ass is so fat."

Some SB's are a little passive aggressive you see, and would hate to scare the menfolk. They don't want do that, at least until they have them safely legshackled, then, well, look out Roosterboy, cause you're gone be henpecked within an inch of your life. I woulda warned them but, I was too busy fending off their cute but bony girlfriends' barbs that are sugarcoated so nobody figures out they're sharp enough to cut through me like a knife through butter, which I don't mind sayin is a food group in my book.

When I was a little girl, I was tiny, petite even. However, when I hit puberty, something horrible happened. I grew.. a lot. At the age of ten, almost overnight I got the bazooms. *sighs* While I could discuss the stupidity of boys at length, I won't because that has been established long ago, along with the fact that they have cooties which are contagious, and grow into these things called.. *gulps* babies. EW! But, I will tell you that other girls do not care for the ones that get bazooms first. They're jealous of the attention of the stupid boys, despite the fact that I was beating said stupids up almost daily for their teasing. I was confronted in the bathroom and informed that I'd best do something about the two ginormous growths that had sprouted upon my chest or else. *blinks* Luckily for me, I had mondo-next-o-kin and we did kicketh the arse, so it was established that you did not mess with us. (I cannot put my last name here, as we are just that evil.)

Little did I know that my own family would turn on me as I continued to grow.. my er.. maternal side is a bit, short, bony and just.. ok, they're mean assed pigmies. I was told continually that I was fat, even when I wore a size 5. But when you're up against a 4'11" person, you feel like the not so jolly beige giant. So, I retaliated by eating to piss them off. I didn't gain much though, and kept to a size 7 until I got out of school, then, after I had my kid and got on meds for a medical problem, I er.. expanded.. built on.. and stuff.

Well.. let's skip forward a few years.

I dieted, fasted, all sorts of things and couldn't lose weight. I heard the title of my blog for over 20 years and ignored it because as my fraternal grandmother, fondly called Meemaw, who was a larger woman said . Beauty is only skin deep but ugly's to the bone; beauty fades away but ugly lingers on. I take after my daddy's side of the family you see. I look a lot like my mother, but from the neck down, (besides the er.. girly parts) I am him.

So, while I ate the same amount the pygmies did I wondered why the hell I couldn't lose weight or their unspoken disapproval and that damn "But you have such a pretty face." I just wanted them to leave me and my pretty face alone. But they hovered like bony little vultures, waiting for me to gain another pound, prodding me. I tried to tell them it wasn't my fault, it must be hereditary or something else. Apparently, this was my size. I was healthy, happy (when they shut up about it) basically this was me. For 20 some odd years, I'd been this way... Finally, I just learned to live with it. And finally I tuned the evil pygmies out with the help of my hubby who said "Screwin a skinny woman's like sleepin on a bed of coat hangers." and then he um proved it to my everlastin delight *ahem*

Until *smirks* last year, I went to a new doctor who finds out that I have a thyroid problem. Yeah, I know you hear some say that "it's my glands" as they stuff their faces with fried chicken etc. But with me it was true. He said more than likely after havin the Mean Teen Queen it messed up and never got back on keel, and then the crap meds I took messed them up more. So, with my new meds and the thyroid meds.. I've lost about 35 lbs so far and now that the weather is changing, I'm going to start walking, hopefully this will make it go faster.

So, when they (the bony phonies) notice my weight loss, do I take the High Road and be nice? Hell NO! I squeal my evil little tires right on down Snark Street as I tell them it was my glands all the time in the snottiest voice I have, which is pretty frickin snotty if you must know as I learned it from The Southern Belle Bitches aka them. Is this nice? No. Do I care? Um, no. My pretty face is a little thinner, but this smartass mouth is just as big. And I have them to thank. How do I do that? Every time I open it to say. "Have you put on weight?" *evil smile* Time don't heal all wounds, but it does slow down the metabolism and all that bacon them heifers ate is FINALLY catchin up to them. Southern Belle Karma is a bitch, and I think she likes me, maybe she's one of my curvy cousins.

Jenna Leigh
Southern Belle Fruit Off
The Bitter Bitch Branch of
the Redneck Family Tree

So.. I'm The Devil

2007-04-13T13:10:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was this man.. let's call him Hubby. When he'd get sick, he'd ignore my sweet, compassionate urging to go to the doctor (yes this means bitching, shut up!) and be ill, sometimes for weeks at a time. If I privately felt he should suffer for being stubborn, well, I kept these thoughts to myself for the most part. Well yes, I'd laugh and do the dance called the Righteous Rumba, which involves a lot of booty shaking and sticking out of the tongue at the WRONG party. Please keep up, ok? Sheesh! I mean seriously! I made the whiny wuss chicken soup and soothed his fevered, brow, and wiped his snotty nose. Did I not deserve to gloat? I did! Pfft! After a month of coughing, sneezing and blowing his mucus infested snozola he finally decided to go to his doctor, so I knew this sick puppy must be feeling really bad.

He took off work, which was another clue. I will say that he's a good man, a strong one, if stupid. He can have a 101 degree fever and still go to work. However, on this day, he calls and says he's going in, and will be up to my work to wait until it's time for his appt. but when I offer to go with him, he informs me very smartly that he is grown and doesn't need ME to go with him. This is despite the fact that he trucks his big butt up in MY last dr. appt, exaggerated and almost got me put on nerve pills until the doctor saw my other meds and thought it unwise to add to it. So, I smile, speak to my boss, who by the way is as evil as me despite being a member of the male sex, bide my time , follow him out the door and wait until my time to strike!

See, Hubby hasn't been to the doctor for over three, count them THREE years. Through msytery aches, backpain, headaches, chest colds, fevers, night sweats, belly aches, chest pains (not heart related, thank goodness) fever, etc, he's refused to go to the doctor. So, now you see why I smiled at the receptionist and stepped through the door behind him. She being a friend of mine (and a fellow evil woman) smiled back and gave me a wink and a thumbs up sign. She probably hogties and drags her man in there once a year. Ha! Anyway, we wait and wait and wait. Hubby isn't good at waiting, but he'd thought to bring a book, so it wasn't that bad. I had one too, a dirty one, which I shove in my purse when the doctor comes in.

I've been thoughtful enough to stick Hubby back against the wall so that I am on one side of the door and now the doc is on the other side, like evil guards against his continued bad health. It all begins so innocently. "My head is stopped up." *cough cough cough* "I have the sinuses."

"I think it's your ___." Doctor puts samples on the desk. "I know it is. And you're gonna take these this time unlike last time cause she's in here now and it's gonna be better in a week, I promise. " Evil smile at me. Oh yes, we understand one another perfectly.

Hubby frowns at the meds as if they're poison. "But but but..I have sinuses."

"I told you this same thing three years ago ." Doctor taps his fingers on table. "Are you having any other problems?"

Hubby shakes his head. I smile and lean forward. "Yes.. let me tell you all about it." And I take a deep breath and begin to list them, quickly without pausing . Ending with this jerkin spell problem he has if he doesn't eat every hour and a half.

Hubby's eyes widen, as does the doctor's smile, when I'm finished he laughs. "Buddy you shouldn't have let her in here with you. But now that you have, we are going to have to make some diet changes." It behooves me to point out that you shouldn't mess with a doctor that knows not only your medical history but also that of your aunt, grandfather and grandmother who are all diabetic. He doesn't know his father's history as he's a stubborn as Hubby and refuses to come in as he's afraid THIS will happen to him, the junk food loving, chicken.

The result is.. he no longer gets to eat what he as a genuine Irish American Redneck considers the 4 basic food groups. Taters, Cornbread, Bread and Sugar. In other words, no fun! Oh the horror! He called his father and told him. The response "You might as well shoot yourself in the head! I'm never goin up there now!" An hour later, he called back and magnanimously offered, "I'll come get that mint chocolate chip ice cream you bought the other day so it won't go to waste." My hubby sweetly offered to cut him if he tried it.

So I'm on a search for low carb, high taste crap to feed this poor deprived man who has informed me that he will weigh 20lbs by the end of the year. I doubt it, not when he figured out today that pork skins have no carbs (oink oink big boy). Now I have to put up with the stinky eye every time we pass the bread aisle at the super market. But he does feel fuller after his high protein meals. I just feel better knowing he'll be around that much longer for me to torment erm.. I mean love.

The Devil in the Blue Scrubs,

Jenna Leigh

The cover for The Wolf's Heart is up on the Samhain Site!

2007-04-07T14:17:00.000-07:00

Each step in getting a book ready for publication is still really new for me, everytime something comes up, I'm worse than a kid at Christmas. Well, Santa Anne Cain put a great gift in my stockin early this year with this cover. I drool over it every time I look at it. *sighs* Where was I again? Oh yeah.

The Wolf's Heart is the story I started for NaNoWriteMo back in 2005, which I won by the way. I got my 50, 000 words, but, the story of Lainie and Marcus wasn't finished by a long shot. No, they kept talking and talking and yes, talking. I became a conduit of sorts for a compellingly dark yet funny story that kept me glued to my keyboard until it was finished. Then, strangely enough, I got the guts to do the *gag me* synopsis, and turn it into Samhain. Even stranger, on, Friday Octber 13th, they sent me an email saying, yes. Let me tell you, this hefty white chick CAN jump. (and holler and scream and cry and consume vast quantities of chocolate in celebration)

Now, I have to do something else....Wait. *blinks* I'm not too good at that you know. They say patience is a virtue, well pffth! Come on June! In the meantime, I'm working on the sequel to that book, which I'm calling The Wolf's Mistress. Now, I say that's what I'm calling it, but you just never know. I have to call it something, Meme laughs when I call it that damn book with the hot dude and mean girl in it. I owe her one anyway, she cyber-nurpled my cover hottie's bewb, I mean jeez! The cheek of some people! *grins* I'm really just mad I didn't think of it first, you know.

Still Droolin
Self Lovin Cover Slut
Jenna Leigh

My Mother, My Daughter and Me

2007-03-30T20:33:00.000-07:00

If you stand us up side by side, you can maybe see a few features here and there that are the same. Ok, we have the same wide spaced, eyes that can go from dark chocolate brown to the pits of hell black magic evil at the drop of a hat. I also know that we've got the same smile that hides three of the sharpest tongues in the South. Otherwise, we're very different women. Mother older and yes, much much wiser than us. (pfth) I am the middle and more temperate one (flutters lashes) and my daughter, well, let's just say she's still getting her sealegs in this thing I like to call reality.

For the sake of your sanity, the we'll use code names. I say yours, as mine was lost yesterday, and the other two never had theirs to begin with. Gah! Nana, Mozilla and Jenn. We planned to drive to meet Nana after work to get my teenaged daughter a prom dress. Now, my husband had been hemming and hawing about this very outing for over a month because of two things.

1. He hates to have anyone go to town w/out him for fear he'll miss somethin.
2. He knew good and well we weren't gettin' him his comic books.

So, he whined but we went anyway. I think I may have left fingerprints on that child's dash, because I foolishly thought she drove like she had a lick of sense. Man, was I wrong! If I told her once, I told her a hundred times to slow down. "But why?" is not the response you give me. My answer will always be. "Because, if you don't, I'm gonna kill you graveyard dead."

However, we made it to my mother's work on the outskirts of what I call Funroe. It ain't, let me say that up front, this is something I like to call sarcasm. Anyway, my mama is standing beside her truck with her hands on her hips tapping her foot, pointing at the parking space she wants my child to park in. Of course, Mozilla makes a beeline for it. That is, if bees went 70 miles an hour!

"Slow down Mozilla!" She looks shocked. I just snicker and resist the urge to kiss the ground when I get out, as I don't know how many squirrels have used it for a toilet.

Mozilla fusses about getting in the back of the big pickup truck I know my mother has bought to make up for the fact that she's barely over five feet tall. But I have senority, so I get shotgun, whoohoo! Nana begins to yack and yack and yack about what she wants Mozilla to get. However, Mo is adamant that she will have this thing called a 'froofy' skirt. I don't know what that is, but hopefully, despite the way my mother is talking, driving and cussing people in front of her all at the same time, we will make it to the store and find out. Now I see where my daughter got her mad skills behind the wheel.

Finally, we arrive and we look and look and look and look and if we don't stop looking and start picking, I'm going to scream. Mozilla is very certain about what she wants, she turns to tell Nana but we can't see her over racks. Oh, but we can HEAR her. "Ooh, and these and ooh these. And I must have THESE!"

Mozilla: "Mother go and get Nana out of the shoes."
Me: "How do you know it's shoes?"
Mo: *raising a brow* "Oh please, it's Nana!"
Me: "Mama!! Out of the shoes now!"
Nana: "Aww." After a long pause, she still hasn't appeared, so I go fetch *read drag* her away from the blingy flipflops. "But they're 5.99. I could have a pair in every color." When this doesn't work, she tries bribery, "I'll buy you some too, dear. Not that grandchild, she's evil."

Then.. I become invisible as she spies the frou frou dresses. She knows that you can't pay me to wear a dress, especially not this kind. However, Mozilla is a clothes horse of a different color. "Oh yeah, baby." My mother practically threw me to the floor as she ran to those dresses. "So, red, right?"

"No red."

"Yes, red, I like red, and this shiny red is the best." So said my mother the magpie. "And this one has feathers!"

"No red, Nana."

"So, this dark red, is even better and shinier." Have I ever mentioned the fact that I get at least one red article of clothing from my mother for Christmas every single year? Well, I do. She will deny it, but it's true.

"No red, Nana, I want pink." Mozilla pulls all the pink dresses she likes off the racks and grabs me by the collar on her way to the dressing room.

Me: "Ew pink? I shall hurl. Urk!"

"Pink is a good color, Mama, now get in this room with me." She shoves me in front of the curtain that is all that separates her from the rest of the store and starts to strip.

At first I don't know why she's got me stationed there, until I hear the clip clop of Nana's little cloven high heels and then.. *swish* My mother snatches the curtain back. "Aren't you dressed yet?"

My child exhibites a heretofore unknown ability to scream at a level only dogs and small children and unfortunately her mother can hear about being naked. Perhaps she is a mutant X-Brat known as Banshee and I am an X-Bitch known as Bitchshe? Heeeheee!! *ahem* Back to the shopping. Oh yall hush, yall can see from this here, why I'm insane!

Suffice to say, we got the first dress she tried on, unfortunately, we tried on more than one dress before we decided on that first one. All of them were pink, all of them were beautiful. However, the one we got is the one she wanted. Mozilla's happy and Nana's happy(pink is pale red after all, right?). Jenn's just damn happy it's over. I never want to go shopping with them again.

Some evil friend of mine (Kat, whose gonna get hers, mark my words) pointed out to me that one day I'll be helping her to pick out a wedding dress. I don't find that funny at all. I only have one word to say to my daughter on this subject. If you love me ..

Elope.

Jenna Leigh

PS: Can't share it yet, but I got my cover for The Wolf's Heart and all I can say is.. woof woof baby!! It's beautiful. Believe me, the first chance I get, I'll have it up here, and everywhere. For right now, it's on my desktop. Marcus never looked so good. Oh, but I can share this!
http://samhainpublishing.com/coming/the-wolfs-heart
That's right, I'm on the coming soon page! This just sort of makes it real. I know Samhain already said yes, but a little part of me still thinks they'll go 'psych! take backsies!' and you know, then I'd cry.

I admit, I got a thinkin' problem.

2007-03-23T18:23:00.000-07:00

And a procrastinatin one too. When I put off writing, I surf.. a lot actually, so when I came upon Romancing the Blog where a writer was talking about the RITA's, I read it, hoping to glean some knowledge about the contest itself. I'll admit up front that I don't really know much about them other than than there's no chance in hell I'll be getting one because I don't belong to any of the romance clubs nor do I enter contests cause A)I'm po and B)I really don't get down with havin' to pay to play. (hmm) But that's horse of a different color that could be beaten to death, fried and force fed to me. It'll probably be much more palatable than the crow which I'm sure I'll eat one day, when I plop my money down and enter with the rest of the starry-eyed hopefuls.

However, that's not what I've been thinking about since I read that blog. No, really what I'm wondering is this; do readers think that authors stop reading once they get published? I sort of inferred it from some of the comments I saw there. I also almost passed out when I saw Nora Robert's name in the comments, so that should give you your first clue that I at least, am still very much a reader, and a big fan of other authors. As an aside, another of my favorite authors, Mary Stella commented, which made me smile, for very different reasons. I know her, as in I've met her, personally. I'm also a fan of hers, not in the OMG IT'S MARY STELLA! I'M GONNA BLOW CHUNKS BEHIND THIS CONVENIENT POTTED PALM! freakout, but a less insane, more personal, but still very much fan type thing, and a friend as well. (sorry, to Nora for any future freakout hurling I may do *ahem*) I admit that I don't have as much time to read anymore, so what I do purchase is what I know I will read..er.. soon.

I know readers look at authors as a different species. Heck, I do it myself, see the above flip out about Nora Roberts. She is a goddess of the literary field to me, so therefore how can she take time out of her busy schedule to comment on a blog? Ohmegawd, you know? I lose IQ points, that believe you me, I don't have to spare when I think of being in the same cyberspace she may or may not been in at some time or other, so I understand. Now, I know good and well that I in no way shape or form am in the leagues with this woman, so please, save your comments about how lowly I am in comparison to her loftiness. But, I'm pretty sure she reads books too, or has a well oiled male slave to read them to her while having her feet rubbed. Or, this is what I'd do in her place.

Here's how I look at it the reader/author thing.

Do doctors stop needing medical care when they receive their diplomas?
Do pilots stop needing to be flown anywhere ever, ever again?
Do chaffeurs ever let someone else drive?
Do singers ever listen to someone else sing?

I love to read, and that will never change. I look at it like a vacation from what I do every day, where I create the world and direct the players to suit my needs. Another author's book is like a freebie where I don't have to do a thing but sit back and enjoy the fruits of their labor. While I admit I see the backstage process a little more clearly than I did before, I can still lose myself in the characters, the story, and yes, hope like hell that they get their happy ever after by the time I get to the end.

Maybe a more apt analogy is the mother who cooks supper every single night for her family. One night she's taken out on the town by her wonderful husband for a romantic dinner just for two. There's candlelight, roses, and soft music and wonderful conversation. She doesn't have to do a thing but sit back and enjoy the meal. She can taste the seasonings in the dish, feel the smoothness of the sauce on her tongue. She knows how that wonderful meal was prepared, because, heck, she can cook it herself, but by golly, she didn't have to lift a finger to do it tonight. And even better.. she doesn't to clean up, and if she's lucky, she doesn't have to pick up the check either. (Hooray to hubby for buying Kim Harrison's book so I didn't have to whoohoo!!!)

Most of us were readers long before we were authors, I know I was, I've read since the age of four, when I did good to write my name. If anything we're creatures of habit, we hoard books like fiends, saving them for the literary rainy days better known as the horrible writer's block. Screw movies, nothing beats curling up with a good book when you've got the blues. Reading's an escape from a reality that so often bites the big one, and nobody, I mean nobody knows that better than a reader. But on the flipside writing's also an escape. Why do you think readers make such prolific authors?

Old Readers Never Die,
They Just Get Published
To Support Their Addiction

Jenna
Book Ho

Join us at Coffee Time Romance on Tuesday

2007-03-19T18:18:00.000-07:00

Jenna Leigh, Mila Ramos, and J Morgan are all going to be in one chatroom together, so watch out! Join them as they talk about their current releases, upcoming books, and even better, give away some great prizes!!

So, join us, Tuesday, March 20th at 8pm Central / 9pm Eastern
http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/Chat.html

Jenna Leigh: http://www.jennaleighzone.com/

Mila Ramos: http://www.milaramoswrites.com/

J Morgan: http://www.freewebs.com/jmorganslair/

Do you hear what I hear?

2007-03-17T20:42:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not singing carols early. A few minutes ago, my hubby does the unthinkable and turns off the tv and asks me that very question. I said, what, is it them the voices talkin in your head again? *hee hee* Well, I thought it was really funny, if you must know. However, he did not, and soon I too heard the eerie sounds coming from right outside our chamber door. It weren't a raven that's for sure.

These sounds were low and angry, filled with rage and hate and angst, nothing that you'd think an animal could make. Let me explain that we live in a rural area where we do get visits from various forms of wildlife. Anything and everything has come into our yard, deer, coyote, panthers, possum, armadello, rabbits, squirrels and most recently to my husband's absolute panic, a skunk. But tonight it was something else, according to him. Something evil, heinous and bent on revenge against us for some unknown slight. Perhaps it was even a ghost!
I will admit it sounded horrible, it howled like something that might be undead.

But, if it was a ghost, why did he pick up the bb gun that he'd and my daughter had been playing with earlier? I asked him this and was informed it made him feel better. I myself had picked a vastly superior weapon.. a long handled wooden spoon. Everyone knows this is what you use for ghost busting. *snorts* Thus armed, we crept out onto the porch, amid the growls and howls of the horrid beasties as I could tell it was more than one. Once there, I started bravely down the steps. As I put my foot on the first stair, he decides that whatever it is, is under the porch and stomps his big redneck foot, loudly. I almost fell off the porch! I wish it known that I did not hit my husband with the spoon, however, it was a very near thing. Well, at least not until we got safely back inside.

Oh, what was the animal that made so much noise? It wasn't a ghost, or even a panther or a coyote. It was two cats, only they make angry hissy noises, besides humans that is. They'd decided that the area beneath our porch was hotly contested territory worthy of a test of if not wills, then at least a hissy fit or three. My own cat, who is strictly a house feline, is angry about this fact. Right now he's staring hard out of the screen door adding his own low, angry hisses to the chorus of howls and growls. Every once in a while I hear a meow. Now they meow, if they'd done that before, it could have saved me a trip outdoors in the middle of the night amongst all them skeeters, not to mention scaring a few years off my life. The next time that man hears something he can go outside by himself. Maybe next time, I'll stomp on the porch and make him jump ten feet in the air. I'll still have my spoon, though, don't yall worry.

Stirring Up Trouble On a Saturday Night

Jenna Leigh

When your hubby always..

2007-03-15T18:32:00.000-07:00

Thinks that the weird chicks on tv, movies, etc.. are hot? I mean always. Not kidding. Here's the skinny, blonde, chick with the ginormous hooters, in other words the All-American version of hotness. Then you have the slightly quirky looking girl with crazy eyes flashing behind a pair of cateye glasses who has either brunette or red hair or heck give her streaks of both through her corkscrew curls, why not? Put them side by side and he'll pick that freaky chick every single TIME! He was just yelling that some strange brunette is HOT and to dump the boney blonde chick. Is this a tiny, little, itty bitty clue that maybe, just, oh maybe I'm weird? Nah.

But what makes men attracted to certain types of women? What makes say, men like my hubby go ape for the darkhorse of a woman who is crazy, quirky, yet strangely attractive and compelling despite her insanity? Besides her fabu good looks and all that is *cough cough* Now that he's been drawn into my web, he of course knows I'm a wonderful cook (when I feel like it), have a great sense of humor, am pretty good in the sack (I'm not saying how long or erm little time he waited to find this out, so shush) and many other things I can't share because then I'd have to kill yall. But I make him happy, so he says. He is sorta crazy too, you know.

But on the flip side, what makes others go towards the light.. You know, the perfectly toned extra slim blonde bombshell who never has a hair out of place. Who wouldn't know her way around a skillet or a punchline if it hit her in her oh so perfect face? These men usually are not perfect themselves so it isn't a case of like to like. I've heard of opposites attracting but come on, that means both parties are attracted to each other.

I myself think Hugh Jackman's hotter than Popeye's spicey fried chicken with a side of buscuits covered in gravy.. wait make that Hugh covered in gravy. *pauses* Anyway, where was I? Oh opposites. He is from down under I'm from the south of nowhere. He's rich and famous, I'm so not and yet, we're not an item... well, not yet. Ooh but we're both married, hmm. Ok, fine, I'm married to the wonderful man who thinks I'm cute, but he was just lusting after some trashy brunette on tv, so I can lust too, right? Riiight.

But my point still stands, we all have our types. Thank goodness my type is sitting in his easy chair quietly watching Casino Royale now.

Ooh, damn, speaking of type. Bond is pretty hot too. Color me shaken and stirred. Meowrrr.

Married Not Dead
Shallow Gal Jenn

Coming Soon Means Freak Out Time

2007-03-09T18:53:00.000-08:00

When? Where? What? I sound like Vinnie Barbarino from Welcome Back Kotter now, don't I? But, when I get word that one of my books is coming out, I get a little crazy. Um.. ok, for those of you out there in cyber land who just fell off your chairs, I hope you get a ginormous bruise the shape of Louisiana on your butts. Fine, crazier, are you happy? Good, now get up off the floor.

My novella, Tigre Moon, is coming out in the Alien Seduction Digest with Midnight Showcase .. um.. soon. Yes, I'm wiggling around on my chair like a 1st grader after way too many trips to the water fountain! For one thing, this is a couple of firsts for me.

First scifi, (ish) first nonfunny, and first real erotic piece of work I've ever submitted for publication, so I'm nervous. On one hand, I don't want it to come out, but on the other, I'm ready for people to say yeah, we like it or no we don't so I can get that part over with and move on. Or more likely consume vast amounts of chocolate and hide under my bed for months on end, but that's another blog for another day when I actually have that substance in my house. If I talk about it now, my hubby may be injured as I'm sure he ate the last piece. *grr*

My point is, is there ever a time when an author is comfortable enough about their work where they don't experience what amounts to stage fright? Will I ever feel like everybody won't think it's horse dung? Will I ever think they won't open their mouths and scream like Donald Sutherland in Invasion of the Body Snatchers and let everyone know I'm a poser proser just pretending to be a real author? If so, then when, after the third, fourth or fifth or even the tenth book?

It's not the difference between ebooks and prints for me either, I've held my books in my hands, so that ain't it, girls and boys. And I know that if I got the 'call' today from one of those giant publishing companies and had the golden contract handed to me on a silver platter, I'd still feel in my lil redneck heart I'd still be waiting for the other shoe to drop (not that I wear them if I can get out of it mind you) and for someone to say. "She ain't a real author, now is she?"

Wait, that sounds suspiciously like one of my kinfolk, or else, like Me. Hmm. Now we're getting somewhere. Who knew blogging could be therapeutic? Or else, my assorted personalities are so busy reading what I'm typing they forgot to block it out. Well, ha to them! I won this round! Have a great weekend everybody!

Coming someday soon to a blog near you,

Jennochio.. a real live author *winks*

Compromising My Principles

2007-03-02T21:31:00.000-08:00

Ok, not as a writer. I really haven't got all that many yet, actually. I just tell my stories to the best of my ability and hope people like it, or at least doesn't hate it enough to yell at me about it.

No, I mean about what I will and will not sit (in a highly uncomfy chair mind you), in a dark smelly cold theater for over two hours to see. I'm talking about 300 starring the admittedly hunkified GB. (Bows to NeeGnome's taste in hunks) I know he's hot, I know he's half nekkid in most of the film, but from what I see it's all fighting and frankly, um.. ew. I don't do battles.

Even in the historical romances of my favorite authors.... *pauses* Please forgive me for what I'm about to write oh wonderfully wicked writers of the ripped bodices. I will flip through the scenes. *flip flip flip* He thrust his sword. Gah, how long is this bloody battle? *flip flip flip* He parries. Grrrr! *flip flip flip* He thrust.. OMG, if he thrusts or parries one more freakin time.. oh *blinks* Well now, that's a sword of a different color. *grins and flips back* Give it to her Gavin! Because, as we all know all good heroes are named Gavin, Tristen, or Roark or um even Jake or Mattias or something. *coughs* It's scientific fact.

Anyway, my point is this, in a book, I can flip through the battles because, unlike my hubby, and all the rest of the people who LIKE battles I personally do not. I skipped half of the Lord of the Rings books because it was all battles. People talk about romance novels being repetitive. "How can you make the sex scenes different? It's all in and out!" Well, how the crap do you make scenes where all you're doing is lopping off arms, legs and heads any less so? After a while it all starts looking like one of those Jackson Pollock paintings done in one color. Red!

So, do I compromise and go to the 300 just because I'll get to see GB in what amounts to an ancient leather and um *drools* very brief freakin speedo with a shield, sword and cape for accessories, or do I take my hormonal stand now? One small step for women equals one giant step for womenkind! I don't like battleflicks and I ain't gonna take it no more! I'm staying home to watch urm, Shaolin Soccer or Kung Fu Hustle or something that shows me half nekkid man chests. Ok, yes, they have fight scenes but for some reason, I like those. Don't ask me why, I blame Bruce Lee and Kung Fu Theater late night Saturday nights.

Hey hey, you people just all hush. I grew up in a different world with three channels and no internet. Well, four if you count public broadcasting, which I most definately do. Without that, I'd have never had the most important of my TV addiction, Dr. Who, Black Adder and Red Dwarf. More on those later. It also gave me Reading Rainbow.. which leads me to Lavar Burton who later starred on what hit television show? Star Trek:The Next Generation. Life revolves around the Trek, I knew it.

Jenn/Spock's Gurl 4Ever.

Hubby can see 300 with the wookie for all I care.

PS: Shut up Glamazon, Star Trek is so too the bestest!

Watching a Movie With One Eye Closed

2007-02-24T16:47:00.000-08:00

While I'm not the biggest fan in the world of comic book movie adaptations, my husband is and he's been dying to see Ghost Rider since he saw the trailer for it last year. So to prove my love to him I put on a bra and shoes and leave the house, on a Saturday no less. (yes, clothes too, jeez!)

Ok fine, really I do this for one reason and one reason alone. Nick Cage. *drools* He's one of my fave actors, I think he's just smokin hot. I dunno why, but he's just got this... something.

How was the movie? Hell, I don't know, but hubby kept doing his Thumper imitation in certain parts, so I guess it was good. The movie was dark, so was the theater, so I sort of snoozed and only really woke up when Nick was standing in front of the bathroom mirror soaking wet in a towel. Did I mention drool?

The premise is: Johnny Blaze makes a deal with the devil to save his father. As always when you make these sorts of deals, something goes horribly wrong and you end up paying for it for the rest of your life. He leaves behind everything he loved, including sweet Roxie (later played by Eva Mendes) So, Johnny lives this sort of halflife as a *snicker* daredevil jumping all sorts of things on his bike, doing stunts that would have killed other guys to prove that he is his own man, but he can't die because the devil has plans for him as dun dun dun!! THE GHOST RIDER!!

Enter the demons who were course are hot as hell (pun intended) but one of them apparently had some sort of communicable disease passed by touch (not really, they're demons, so that's how one of them killed bleck) so their hotness is of course, wasted. Isn't that always the way? Crap! They are after this contract that the Ghost Rider shown at the first of the movie took from Ol' Scratch. If they get it, you guessed it, THE END. Finally Johnny turned into the Ghost Rider and really burned up the screen, literally, he was on fire.

Some of my favorite parts of the movie are the motorcycle's morphing into it's comicbook version. I guess that's what it was suppose to look like because again, it wasn't MY comic, unlike say, Xmen or even Spidermen. Now my husband almost melted into a puddle of geeky goo when that bike morphed, so I'm guessin they got pretty darned close. I just liked the fact that Sam Elliot was in the movie and that they used the Ghost Riders In The Sky song by Johnny Cash et al.

All in all, the movie was ok. Plus, Nick decided NOT to make his Texas accent as horrible as what the hell ever that southern accent he was trying to pull off in ConAir. If he didn't stop that, I swear I was going to put that bunny he was so worried about somewhere the sun didn't shine. We so don't talk like that yall, for real. But I digress, did Ghost Rider follow the premise of the comic? Hubby says...yes. Was it good to me a non fan? Yeah, and I'd pay my money just to see Nick Cage without his shirt again, man was he ripped! Though hubby insists that sixpack was as fake as the CGI burning skull that he sported in over half the movie. I so don't care, it's Hollywood, I expect some airbrushing. He has so much room to talk having all those Playboy mags next to those Ghost Rider comics. Maybe I'll go read a few. The comics, not the Playboys mind you.

Funny aside, my daughter gets up to go to the bathroom and comes back looking all huffy. I asked her if she was ok, or did I need to go and kill people. She informs me very quickly that she does not look like Eva Mendes. I said um, ok and tried to edge toward my nominally less insane hubby. After a few minutes of silence she turns to me and almost spits out what happened. "Then why did a little kid point at me and yell OMG mommy, she looks like the lady off Ghost Rider!" Such are the life and times of my long tall sally teen livin in rednekkid land. *sighs* She does have long blondish brown hair and those big dark brown eyes with eyelashes that I'd kill for LOL. I told her that it's because she was so high up and he couldn't see that far. Man, she pinches hard.

Live Life Without Fear

Jenna

Boys have cooties and other things I knew in kindergarten

2007-02-18T16:12:00.000-08:00

I sit here infected what is suspected to be a mutated form of boy cooties caught from my teenaged daughter aka Typhoid Mozilla. Hubby thinks she's been kissing on boys and has therefore spread the horrid boy cooties to our household as we are all sick.

Wait a minute.. I KISS HUBBY! And HE is a boy! *spits*

The point is someone shall pay for my illness, daughter or hubby. Hubby is crouping, daughter is puking and I have have been doing a combo of the above two the past few days all on top of a toothache mind you. But ill though I shall be, neither mucus, pain, nor fever shall keep me from my appointed blog of insanity. I will say that I do feel a bit better because Louisiana has decided to finally show her true colors, it was almost 80 degrees today. Yippee!

Oh yes, all of you northerners shiver and give me a glare, I so don't mind a bit. I bask in the warm glow of your jealousy. Oh wait, that's the sun. Hahhaaa! My mistake. *evil smile*

What was I going to say today before I got off track because of my illness and happy hippy shake about the weather which I have no control over, but will still brag about just because? Oh yes, words.

Words are something that will elude you when you need them the most. Slippery little devils that flit away until the middle of the night when you lay in the bed trying to sleep. Then they creep up and hover on the side of the bed and grin at you in an attempt to tempt you back to your keyboard to write. I've gotten more writing done at 2 a.m. than any time during the day. Why is that? Is there some sort of Muse Union that states You shall not write until after midnight, silly heifer, before then I'm busy being the Tooth Fairy. or what? I am quite sure there has to be a rule somewhere.

I want to petition to get that rule changed. I'm no spring chicken. I'm more a summer hen or if you must know, I'd rather not be poultry at all. I'd rather be a svelte animal, like a fox. Yes, a summer fox, clicking away at the keyboard, popping out her fab fiction without a qualm as to what time it is. But no! Here I am pecking away in the middle of the night with nobody for company but this evil gray cat who looks at me as if to say, "Get in the bed, you silly goose!" Look, at that, more poultry.. sighs.

I suppose it could be worse.. it could be not a creature was stirring.. not even a mouse. With him around that could be really dangerous.

So, I guess I'll keep yes, pecking away, whittling my WIP's down to the wire, getting to those words that are no less wonderful for their lack of length. Two tiny little words.

The End

Who said bigger is better?

Jenna Leigh

Ya know, he does this to get back at me

2007-02-08T20:28:00.000-08:00

For not cleanin the cat box often enough.. I know it's true. I'm Cleopatra Queen of Denial about a lot of things, but not this.

I'm talking about that vile and wicked feline of various aliases, The Felonious Feline , Meowirus Redneckerus, Badasserus Rex, Wicked Whiskers, Bean So Mean, Evil Feline Overlord, EFO for short, or if he had his way, simply, Master. That ain't gonna happen, especially after tonight.

I made chili, and by golly, come hell or high water, I was gonna eat it, because, I make good chili if you must know. Nothing, not that silly child and her new bf sitting on the couch, not my hubby and his bad choice of movies,(European Bigalow or whatever), or EFO's tendency to jump up in my lap would run me off my couch until I'd eaten my little bowl full of yummy delight. Never say never, dearie!!

I sat through that dreck of a movie, with its grody sight gags, and I mean that literally, I did gag at certain parts. So, I had my head down, scooping up the goodness with my spoon, ignoring the igmos on the other side of the room when suddenly, my child says in her kewl teen voice. "Ew mah Gawd, he's got a mouse."

Sure enough, I look up and he's making a beeline right for my feet with a tiny field mouse in his evil maw. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I knew it! My husband's legs pop up in the air and land on each of the arms of his lazyboy faster than I've ever seen him move and much more limber as well. I note that for later use and at the same time, rise from my beloved couch and shuffle as fast as I can into my sanctuary and slam the door all the while screaming for someone to get it and throw it out!

How horrible! How pitiful and how in the crap am I supposed to finish my chili when it's sitting in the other room and there is a potential mouse zombie in there? I've heard of some strange diets in my time but this is ridiculous. Hubby finally took the mouse from EFO and threw it out. My chili was cold by then and I never got to see the end of DB2/The Euro Pimped Version! My life will never be complete.

I'm just glad tomorrow is Friday.. and I hope he doesn't think I'm going to be feeding him food anytime soon. He can give my hubby the feed me face. I am now immune. I mean it, I am! *looks down* Ok, I am immune to the face, however, threats with evil switchblade claws still work very well. My blog is now at an end.

Have a good weekend

Meowrrr
Jenna

Braless in the Baptist Church and Other News

2007-02-07T19:43:00.000-08:00

Being an author is a wonderful thing. You get to do something that you love, create worlds from your own imagination and make people laugh, cry, gasp and sigh. Then, there are days you get to do what I did. Speak in front of a group of wonderful ladies in a literary group. They were great!

It was in the First Baptist church in my hometown, so I was pretty comfortable about it in a way, in another way, this is a romance novel and I was raised in a baptist church... so I could so hear my meemaw fussing at me in the back of my mind. She said things like. "Jenn, I cannot believe you're bringing that sinful trashy novel into the house of the Lawrd!" That's how she said it, you know LOL. But, in another part of my mind, my mawmaw, who read those same sorts of novels was hooting with glee and doing a little twostep, something else a good baptist wouldn't approve of, though she was one.

So, what's a good southern girl to do with not one but Two Little Angels on her shoulders telling her two different things? Well, she just has to keep on talking and hope that neither of these angels gets in her head to give her a butt whuppin for being too bad. I think I succeeded since I didn't feel any celestial stings and arrows from above, and no the roof didn't cave in on me, if you're wondering. I read an excerpt, managed to tie it in with my own experience in getting a contract AND had a wonderful Q an A session with the very interesting ladies of the group.

Southern women are a breed apart you know, on one hand, sweet and genteel, on another devilishly funny. That very duality is one of the things that appeal to the men in their lives and drives them crazy at the same time you know. Add in a dash of PMS induced insanity and you've got...well, me but that's beside the point and probably belongs on my hubby's blog if he had the guts to write one. *winks*

I've always been proud of my southern roots and will never stray far above the Mason/Dixon line if I can help it. While many of my relatives and high school friends have, I've never really felt the urge to roam, I wonder if it's because I have this need to hear the sugar coated accents of my kith and kin every day. I've found that no matter what you're sayin, if you say it with a sweet southern accent, it just sounds nice, you know? LOL.

Onto other news, and I do have some, I've been little under the weather, so I'm posting all this in one blog.

Fallen Angel Reviews gave Spellfire Moons Five Angels!

High Chairs and High Stakes By Jenna Leigh

Matthias Gregory, single dad, has placed an ad for a nanny to help with his child, Aurora, but he didn’t expect a witch. Erin MacKenzie had no idea it was a handsome vampire’s young daughter when she went in for the job. It seems they both are in a pickle when they meet. This wonderful story by Jenna Leigh seasons two characters in a stimulating read while mixing in a wee bit of suspense and a crafty plot.

All the tales in this book were absolutely charming and mouth-watering delights. With exceptional characters and outstanding dialogue that transport the reader into a breathtaking fantasy world of true enjoyment, Spellfire Moons is one satisfying read. Open this page-turner and escape into a world filled with unbelievable magic and allow the fairies to breathe a sweet, tantalizing spell your way.

To read the rest of the review from FAR click the banner. And thanks so much to LINDA!!

Oh, and Mistress Meme has revamped her page, go and take a look, please pay special attention to the page called, the Bitch Mafia. What she wrote about me makes me hoot, especially as most of its true, but man, what a way to describe your critique group. Only the Memenator.

Meme's Page of Wonders

Happy Humpday Yall,

Jenna
aka
The Grand Moobah

Maybe it's not nice to tease your critique partners

2007-01-26T21:57:00.000-08:00

But man, sometimes it sure is fun..

When you have critique partners, the relationship is symbiotic at best and parasitic at worst. I am guilty of peering inside the dark and dusty confines my empty mail box and clearing my cyber throat and yelling the words WHERE AND THE HELL IS ITTTTTT? with the best of 'em, but hey, that's my basic personality. I'm not getting any younger, and seriously, I'm flattering the other person, and what's more, they know it. I will say that I'm usually nice about it and I've only written one evil ditty concerning strangulation if I didn't get my smut fix. It was an empty threat seeing how I don't fly and she lives in New Zealand, I don't think calling the cyber cops aka Glamazon and Gnome Nee on me was necessary. If not for Meme, I'd have been toast.

But, I digress as I usually do. Critiquing is a hard job. You have to be nice..er..ish or they'll cut you off, never letting you see the end product of what you've been getting in starts and stops the whole time in your inbox. I'm not usually the guilty one, but here lately, due to circumstances beyond my control, I've been unable to sit and write anything at all. So, when I could finally, I did and I sent it out to all and sundry, with a snarky missive at the top as is my wont to do. So, when I wrote a key scene where the heroine figures out what she's been doing in her life concerning guys and why she's been doing it... I sent it to my critique partners and at the end I put, sorry I had to stop, I was getting really tired.

Hey! I have a doctor's excuse, I've been ill. *cough cough cough*

The reply I got was very short, but that's just Kitta.

You. Are. Evil.

Nothing else but her signature line.

She's a bit scary. *shivers*

I'm not, I'm just mean, because my reply had one of those emoticons with the semi-smarmy smiles on it and I said back.

Why.. yes, I am. BWAHAHAHAH.

Perhaps tonight I shall satisfy her cravings for more. However I will point out that she does this to me all the time. I figure it's my turn to shine in the leave 'em hanging department. I've been waiting on one of her stories to be resolved for over a year. I won't say it's not worth the wait because ooh nelly, it so is. She's one of the best writers I've ever had the pleasure of reading. But once in a while, I like to make her give me her succient, angry replies. This means...

I've got her, right where I want her. I wonder if I can get chocolate out of this deal?

Jenna
Who knows she's safe in her redneck of the woods.
Or.. so I hope *gulps*

Let's Hear It For the Sacrificial Goats of the World

2007-01-25T16:47:00.000-08:00

I work with a bunch of freakos and I wouldn't change that for all the tea in China. The powerball, that's a different story now. If I win that I'm outta there fast as my stumpy little legs will carry me. They know it and what's more, they'll cheer as I totter out the door with both middle fingers in the air. They also know I'm not pointin those fingers at them, but at..ok.. that's another story too, one that could get me fired, so I'll keep it to myself, in my dark bitter evil heart where it can fester and grow and .. er.. well, never you mind. BWAHAHAH!

Anways, the point is, and I do have one, believe it or not, is that despite the freako-ishness of my coworkers, I'm mighty proud of them. The one that works in front with me in particular today as a matter of fact. She, lets call her Evil Edith.. cuz, well, she is. Evil Edith.. EE for short joined the military when she got out of highschool oh so many years ago. *sings* She's older than me tra la la. By one year, but it counts. During her stint, she always gave blood.. ALWAYS!

We work in the hospital and they come round now, and she ALWAYS donates still. ALWAYS. I'd like to take this opportunity to say how much that means to me. Even though I did call her the sacrifical goat for our department.. because when they asked, I said EE went, I can't go! *blink blink blink* I must hold down ze fort! I am very very sorry. The big bad supervisor hid in the back, if you must know. Chicken. At least I have a valid excuse, I'm on meds that prevent me from doing so, or I would for real. And really would you want my crazy, chocy corrupted blood running round in your veins? Think about it.. Yeah, you'd be sayin yall and eatin tater salad before the day was out. Although this would help with my plans for world domination. Hmm, decisions decisions. Anyway..

To EE the Sacrifical Goat.. You're BAAADDD in all senses of the word. *salutes!*

Bok You,

Your Nemesis,
Jenn el Chicken

How did this happen?

2007-01-16T17:52:00.000-08:00

When did I become ..nice? Someone tell me because, I'd really like to know.
For the longest time, the littlest member of our family.. my tiny sister-in-law of 2 years.. didn't really have much to do with me. She said hi, bye, and muah to me if prompted by my husband and daughter whom she loved best in all the world. My daughter is her a goddess to her because she's a) 14 years older b) 4 and a 1/2 foot taller and c) in possession of a varoom varoom that she will take her for rides in if the mood suits her. When you add up you get goddess.. oh yeah, you can see it shining out of her eyes when she whacks her with something, otherwise it's slavebearer to carry her across the large, muddy yard. If she's not available, my husband aka Bubby the slavebearer II will do just as well.

However around Christmas time, I was ill and went in her room to lay on her bed. My daughter warned me 'the bebbie' wouldn't allow it. I said um.. sheah she will. And flopped down.. surprisingly, I was given a stuffed animal and shoved against the wall and told to be still in de bebbie's bed, and otherwise ignored instead of yelled at and told in no uncertain terms to vacate 'de bebbie's' bed like she did everyone else. I'd open one eye and catch her staring at me before she'd turn back to the tv to watch The Mummy for the five thousandth time. *grunts*

In this she takes after her brother, my husband. He will watch a movie until I am so heartily sick of it I want to scream and throw it out the door, or stomp on it until it cracks. Better the DVD than his head, right? At least the child picks a movie where the scenery is nice. I can watch anything with a bevy of manly studmuffins parading across the screen.. so, I settle in for a bit of Brenden and Ohded watching, little knowing that I'd started something. Something verra bad. *sighs* See, she likes the Mummy, but it sort of scares her in certain parts, and the Mummy Returns (with the Rock ooh) even more so. However, as the ijits in the next room are usually either watching westerns (blech) or football (double blech) I will go in there when she points and lay on the bed to watch these two movies with her.

This has earned me a place in her little evil diapered heart. She is the queen bee of the yard already. As the baby sister of 4 grown brothers, and a baby girl of a man who never thought he'd have another at the age of 60yrs, she's rather spoiled and refers to herself as 'de bebbie' and her things as 'de bebbie's' as in 'de bebbie's' chair, room etc. So, when she asks you to come to de bebbie's room and watch de Mummy wit her it's funny and cute. She's two, I'm only human, deal! Plus.. *sighs* she has a nickname for me now. At first I thought she was calling me mommy, but she calls my daughter Morgan, Momo, and therefore, me being Morgan's mommy, I am the Mo Mee. *hangs head* Crap.. I gotta go.. I'm wanted in de bebbie's room for royal viewing of de Mummy. By golly it's better than Sponge Bob.

Yeah, you say one word, and I'm siccin her on ya,
Mo Mee

Good news, for the most part.

2007-01-10T17:54:00.000-08:00

TRS gave me a pretty icon! Aren't they the sweetest? Like any magpie, I looove a good shiny! While I've always been up front about being a total shallow gal.. this brings it all out lemme tell ya! *stares at it* What was I talking about again? Does it really matter?

Look at the pretty shiny with me. Isn't it beautiful? What's it for again? Oh yeah!! Braless in the Buick, my debut novel about Allie Stephenson and Jake Donally. I love those two which is a good thing since I'm also talking about them this month in the Coffee Time Forums.

Spellfire Moons got a 5 Cup review from Missy Coffee Time

High Chairs and High Stakes
British-born Matthias Gregory is a single vampire who needs help taking care of his child. When he placed an ad for a nanny, he never expected to get a witch. In fact, a witch was the last thing he wanted help from. When Erin MacKenzie meets Matthias Gregory, a vampire raising his daughter alone, the witch-nanny finds that she’s bitten off more than she can chew.

This was an incredibly hot and sexy story and yet it was filled with mystery and tension. Who knew that Mathias would use his incredible sexy voice to record audio romance books? It was so fun and I really enjoyed reading it, and every other surprise and plot twist Mrs. Leigh threw at me.

Braless and Spellfire Are Available in Ebook

At Fictionwise

Braless has climbed back up to number 5 on Champagne's Fictionwise chart!! And for this month Champagne has Braless in the Buick on Sale in Print.

That's all my book news so far this month.. hey, it's been great so far!

As for me, well, my meemaw and my mamaw both said if you don't have anything good to say, it's best not to say anything at all. Therefore, I'll leave yall with a simple little non-rhyming bit of poetry that sums me up right now. It's called Ignorance, but not ugly kind. Think of it more like back when you were a kid and thought nothing bad could ever happen. I wish I could bottle that time and bring it with me tomorrow. I need it.. but I'll settle for a Starbuck Iced Mocha Venti for after. *winks*

Ignorance

By Jenna Leigh

Before it grew up
And knew about
Hate
Pride
Fear
Gravity
Anger
Race
Religion
Or even,
Death
Before it was
Something you should
Be ashamed of..
Ignorance was
Actually..
Bliss

Be seein ya in the funny papers,

Jenn

New Year New Me and They Like Me They Really Like Me

2006-12-30T19:43:00.000-08:00

Oh, I sincerely doubt that, let me get that out of the way right up front. I never really make New Year's resolutions simply because I know my own faults very well indeed. They are sloth, laziness, and procrastination. If you're thinking that those first two mean the same thing, oh well, who cares? My strengths are a large quantity of bitter rage, the will to spew it, and the gall to do it with a smile. Ok, I'm not that bad... most of the time. *grins*

However, I've made up my mind to be a little better at some of the things I can change. So, here's my list for 2007

1. Write more every single day. Before I hit the mail list, the loops, or even turn on my messenger. Write something. It doesn't have to be on the same thing, just write. I have a tendency to get side tracked easily, and before I know it, I'm sucked into Cyber Land.. which if you must know has CyberChocy and CyberCrack available for free. Both are addictive as hell.

2. Be kind remember to unwind. I've got this thing going on right now with my shoulder, neck and head that I think is stress related. Numbness and tingling.. Ack! Gotta get rid of it, or I'm gonna need some surgery. No.. eek, no cutting. NO!

3. Walk. That's right outside, in the open air. Blech. Me, the hermit, communing with nature. I despise the outdoors with a passion. But I'm going to start making myself walk starting the first pretty day in January. *gag me*

4. Be there for my family. My daughter will be gone before I know it. I am the kind that tends to distance myself, emotionally and physically, for reasons I don't even begin to go into here, but I'm stopping that. She's growing up, almost grown, heck she IS grown.. sighs. My hubby's a saint and I'm the sinner in the relationship, maybe it's time to sin a little more with him. *grins*

5. Promo more. That's right. I'm a writer. However, I've never been comfortable with tooting my own horn to advertise that fact. I'm the aw shucks yeah, I wrote this and all type of person. Maybe it's a southern thing, maybe it's a girl thing, maybe it's that I don't want to be bragging and push away potential friends, or a combination of all that, but I'm proud of what I do. I'm good at it or they wouldn't keep saying yes to my submissions, right? Right! Call me the promo princess! The selling slu.. er.. I'll stop right there and say I'll put myself out there more.

In the interests of getting an early start, I'll do a little bit of that tonight.

Braless in the Buick earned a CAPA nomination in from The Romance Studio!

I was so surprised to see my name in the Contemporary Romance section and yes, very pleased as well! I'd like to take this opportunity to thank them for the nomination and thanks to Linda for the wonderful review she gave me that made me feel so good when I first started out. Those make a difference, no matter when you get them but to a new author, they make a world of difference.

Oh and just to let you all know that Braless in the Buick is on sale now at

Champagne Books in print form

and

Fictionwise in ebook

Happy New Year!

Jenna

Crazy Days of Christmas

2006-12-22T22:09:00.000-08:00

You can't actually see ME, which is a good thing as I look like crap in this picture. However, the sign gives you an idea of how my trip to town went, I would have LOVED to have either of those two items today.

We'd planned to go to the mall, however, when we got about a mile from there, and saw that the line of cars waiting to get into the parking lot was at least that long, my husband and myself decided that discretion was the better part of valor and our small stash of Christmas cash would be better spent on gifts instead of bail money. So, we turned around and scooted back the way we'd come, and I found out that the ULM Starbucks has some pretty spiffy coffee. Yeehaw, go Warhawks! *gag me on THAT* but that's a different blog.

Off we did trot to ze Hellmouth as fast as our caffeine enchanced tootsies allowed which, if you must know is pretty darned quick. Go Java! Once there, hubby immediately made me go with him to toys. I've hypothosized (read ranted) that everything in the Hellmouth is centered around the toy and/or the electronics department so that to reach what you need you must pass these two things and therefore, you have to listen to your child/man whine that he needs this or that toy. I know this to be true as I've spent the last 16 years of my life in the possession of these two things--a child or man.

My husband could absolutely LIVE in the toy and/or electronic department. If he's not in one, he's in the other. I can get lost in this store, disappear *snaps* like that. He, on the other hand, will always in one of these places, scoping out the kewl new action figures *coughs* dolls *coughs* or else digging in that Hell's Pit of retail, the Bargain Movie Bin.

That's right, ladies, if your hubby goes missing, just trip right over to that section of the Hellmouth and I bet you'll see his legs waving around in the air as he's diving for D-Class dreck disguised as watchable cinema. Priced to move, this stuff will make into your living room where you'll be subjected to the antics of Bill and Ted, Bob and Doug, Dumb and Dumber, and Me Myself and Irene, a threesome from Hell if ever there was one, then again this is Hellmouth we're talkin about. I'm not sayin that there aren't some diamonds in the rough there, like Better Off Dead (ooh John!) or Big Trouble in Little China, which are classic cult hits, but they're few and far between and not worth the me having to tow him out of that pit by his ankles time and again.

However, today, he promised me that he had a game plan, he even had on his game face. Ha! The face lasted until he got out of toys and into electronics. Ooh, says he.. movies. "NO!" I say. "We have enough movies." But but but.. as he stutters, I attempt to tow him away from the endless array of movies. Alas, I failed and we brought home two more. Blech. Therefore I left him and went in search of the that mythical unmentionable .. a bra that fits.. HAA AS IF! However, it does make him flip out when he can't find me because I'm in the ladies' fitting room cursing beneath my breath as I fight with lycra and spandex two materials which I know where invented in Hell and wasn't the bra invented by a man? I come out of the fitting room to see the clerk giving me the worried 'OMG you've got a stalker' eye and look to see him standing there scowling. I smile and hold myself back from running him over with my cart; (more than once) put back the other five bras and keep the one that sort of fits. Yay me (pah)

Then we go and get ________ (this part of the blog has been censored due to evil nosy teen girl who may read) after that it's a bit of grocery shopping, a flyby trip to the book store, and then off to eat and HOME!! Oh no.. wait.. the dollar store for some bags then HOME!! oh dear wait... he wants me to go to the hometown Hellmouth. *sigh* Sometimes, I think he's addicted or more accurately possessed. I am going to have to see someone about this fetish of his.

Then, finally after seeing that my daughter is safely at McHell, working the window like the little minion she is, we finally oh finally come HOME! I'm ready to kill him until.. he puts on an elf hat with a bell on the end, sneaks off and wraps a present for me and smiles as he asks me with the biggest, shiniest, most Christmas-y eyes I've ever seen on a grown man if I'd like to shake it.

Sighs.. I've gone and caught the Christmas Cooties from my hubby the luv bug and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Merry Christmas Yall

Jenna Leigh

Coffee Time Romance and Champagne Books

2006-12-17T16:47:00.000-08:00

Invites you to join us for our 2nd annual Christmas Party

Tonight Starting at 9:00 PM Eastern/8:00 Central

Special prize to ALL who attend!
http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/chat_entry.html

Five Favorite Christmas Songs

2006-12-14T18:16:00.000-08:00

Kate Davies hit me with a Christmas Tag. No, not the sort that come on presents, though, that reminds me, I need to wrap some packages before my nosy family starts snooping around.

But, that would mean I had to get up off my lazy butt, so instead, I'll tell you my five favorite Christmas songs of all time.

1. O Holy Night-Preferably sung by Aaron Neville, because that man can put a hurting on a high note like nobody's business. Plus, I know this one by heart from all my years in church choir, so I can sing along, loudly, to my family's everlasting delight.

2. Silent Night-Again, I can sing along, or all by myself. Hmm, are you sensing a theme here? My family does, ooh, around Thanksgiving when I start flipping the dial to search out that one station that's started to play Christmas carols.

3. Silver Bells-Not much to do with the religious aspect of the holiday, but more the memories of a time gone by when people were nicer, even when shopping. I like to listen to it and smile happily to myself and think 'yeah as if' right before I walk into the mall. Then, reality sets in with a vengence. Those stop lights may blink a bright red and green, but the cop's lights a bright blue, yall. I didn't sock that lady, honest, officer, she ran into my foot, all ten times. *grins*

4. Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree-You can't listen to this and sit still and/or be quiet. I've loved this song since I was a little girl. I've known all the words since then too. Yeah, I sing it, and yeah, I do rock around the living room, shakin' my butt to the beat too. I'm sure Santa would approve.

5. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas- This song is sad, and yet somehow manages to be hopeful at the same time. I've always loved Judy Garland's version best, perhaps because she manages to be sad and hopeful at the same time too. This may not be the tradional sort of carol, but Christmas is about hope and peace and looking for good in spite of the bad, and this song sums it up for me.

Those are my five faves.. but I'll sing along to any others I know, and there are quite a few, let me tell you. While I can carry a tune pretty well, I'm no Judy, that's for sure. But, Christmas has a way of making singers of us all.

Merry Christmas

Jenna

Becka has Tagged me! Bah Humbug

2006-12-11T17:59:00.000-08:00

Four jobs I’ve had:
convenience store clerk
short order cook
secretary
Author (grins)

Four Places I’ve lived:
Marion
Dean
Haile
Bastrop

Four favorite foods:
Pizza
Sushi
Lamb
Ettouffee

Four movies I could watch over and over:
Rush Hour
Wizard of Oz
National Treasure
Kung Fu Hustle

Four TV shows I enjoy:
Heroes
Good Eats
Paula Deen
Little Britain

Four places I’ve traveled:
New Orleans
Baton Rouge
Dallas
Jackson MS

Four places I’d like to visit:
Ireland
Scotland
Paris
Italy

Four websites I go to (almost) daily:
Google
Yahoo
My Space
Coffee Time

Four people I’m tagging to do this too:

Mary Martinez
Karen aka Glamazon
Mechele Armstrong
Corrine/FeyRhi

Rated Auurgh.. or Oh Johnny sighs

2006-12-09T21:30:00.000-08:00

My husband can be counted on to buy just about any movie under the sun that has fights and/or a lot of special effects in it, so I was sure he'd get POC2 when it hit the shelves of our local Hellmouth. I was right of course. You don't live with someone for as long as I have without killing them without getting to know their neuroses ummm.. cute little quirks.

He's a total movie geek. I'm not jokin' yall. He LOVES movies, and when DVD's hit, he went insane replacing all his VHS copies with the new improved versions, making sure to have them all wide-screen.

When the Star Wars movies came out he almost lost his mind wondering which he should buy because as we know, Lucas aka the devil likes to change his movies as often as third grade boys like to change their undies... or as often as he himself likes to change his own. I'm just sayin! Maybe if he was busy doin other things, he wouldn't be switchin up those movies for my man to be wasting his money one when he could be spending it on more important things.. like me! Where was I before I started this I'm a Star Wars Widow and Lucas is the Widow Maker Rant anyways? *looks at picture* Oh yeah!

Pirates.. *dreamy sigh* Ok, I'm quite sure that most of the ladies and all of the teenaged girls and a erm.. few of the men out there think that Orlando is the dreamier of the two, however. Nobody makes my knees dip like the Depp. In the movies, he's so delightfully ditzy and naughty that you can't help but know that he had fun camping up his role as Captain Sparrow. I did point at the screen at one point and inform my husband that Johnny stole his run, this didn't go over well as you can imagine, if you've seen Cap'n Jack mince across the sands with his arms in the air. Hmm. Maybe the boys like Cap'n Jack too. My hubby, Orlando and Johnny's appeal aside and I know about it from eye witness knowledge about the first of those and secondhand from the countless sites dedicated to the latter two in photoshopped clenches. *wince* Moving on, and hopin hubby don't read my blog where I've just told he's been hit on.. and that there's no sites dedicated to him either.

Oh but ew, did Davey Jones have to have tentacles on his face?! All I could think was, well, if he get's hungry he can always hack one off and fry it up for calamari. Blech. But you won't be disappointed with the action in this movie, there's lots. It's also sort of darker, and more violent too. I know you go come on! There's buckles to be swashed, planks to be walked, but really this is a kid's movie, and there are bits that are scary, for little kids, not me.. um.. I'm not goin to revisit my humilating moment in the theater at the Harry Potter movie with the spiders.. I'm not and well, yall can't make me. Suffice to say, the f-bomb was dropped, repeatedly. GAH!

By now you've realized that this post was only an excuse for me to put up a picture of Johnny Depp.. ahhh Johnny.. I loved the movie but my eye was on the Sparrow the entire time. It's true, then there's the fact that if I say more, I'll spoil the whole thing for you. Can't do that, it goes against the code. Even rednecks have a code.

Land Ho,

Dread Pirate Jenna

Ho Ho Ho .. oh Just Shoot Me!

2006-12-09T01:16:00.000-08:00

Just shoot me… Honestly, why in the world did I let my hubby talk me into going shopping today of all days? Of course, I did need to get those last minute Christmas gifts out of the way. *pauses* Ok, if the truth be known, I needed to get ALL my gifts.. Yeah yeah, I hear you, go ahead and boo at me. I'm no scrooge, I like to give, but I hate to shop. Factor in that I’m a princess of procrastination, a champion of puttin’ off today what I'll wait til the last minute to do next week and you have a retail disaster of epic proportions. And today, was no exception.

First of all, I'd told the darling teen queen of mean that she couldn't come with because..
One: She had to be to work at McHell by six and this would severely curtail my shopping time as I didn't get off work til 1: 30.
Two: We planned on buying the little darling some presents today. How the crap do you get the nosiest child on the planet, nay, in the known universe anything when she's right there asking Whazzat? Huh? Is it for me? Can I have it now? I don't need things under the tree? Please, come onnn!
Not that I actually have my tree up. *sighs* Yeah, I'm the grinch, sue me.

Our first stop was the mawl. I purposefully use my regional pronunciation of this word to both entertain you and show what it can do to the unwary shopper. Yes, mawlllll. We say it like that down here in the deep south. But beware, you can be mauled if you go in there without being prepared to wait in line and/or deal with twits who have no clue as to their main purpose in life. This purpose, I'm sorry to tell ya, is to serve ME! That’s right, Jethro and Jethra, you ain’t there to file your nails, chew bubble gum and roll your eyes. You are to step up to the counter when I walk up to it, and ask me if you can help me. I got the money, you got the time, savvy?
So, I spent no money in the mawl except at the lovely wonderful Starbucks *big caffeine grins* as they know how to treat an addict, I mean customer. They even write my name on my cup with a big fat black marker and everything. Besides, I didn't find jack crap. Eh.

However, hubby successful in another unnamed store, albeit peeved about his experience. While I distracted evil child with food, he hoofed it down the midway and got er.. something. He told her, I’m buying this and need to hide it from someone that’s with me. She smiled widely and stuffed it in the bag with a conspiratorial wink and then proceeded to spritz it with the store perfume thereby giving what amounts to the BAT SIGNAL to all and sundry, especially my child what's in the bag. He grumbled about listening to the whole spiel without even getting a glimpse of the signature sexy women in the glittering bras and wings. He was most put out about the whole project. I bought him a muffin in Starbucks to make up for it and I only ate half of it. Ahh, I feel the Christmas Spirit welling up inside of me..

Then, we went to get his frickin comics. *waits for an eternity after he goes inside*
Dear God Mama, what's he doin in there?
Dunno..
Go get him
No
Lemme out I will
NO
Yes
NOOO
OMG, I'm gonna die... *whines, wails, gnashes teeth*
*ten minutes after hell freezes over he comes out* What are yall glarin' at me for?
Nuthin.. just get in the car, Daddy before we die of hypothermia. (she can get all uppity when peeved you know)

And then we're off.. to saints preserve us.. the Hellmouth. I go in and immediately start looking for presents. Hubby stays with me, daughter takes off to parts unknown. She has her cell and hubby has mine, why? I have no idea as he doesn't know how to use it. It's in his pocket, it rings and vibrates, but he won't answer it. I ask why, he just stares at me like a deer caught in the headlights. "Uh.. what?" Making me snatch it from him and snarl in the middle of the Hellmouth. Does he not know they will pull me into the fold thinking I am one of the devil's own? Sheehs! However, I get pressies.. so I am soothed for a moment.. til HE DISAPPEARS! I turn and he's vanished, then he gets all iffy saying we did it. Well, no, not even.

Then the freak insists I go into BAMM. I am too tired for a round with Book Nazi and Moth Man, however, I did get Broken by Kelly Armstrong.. Wahhooo! I reread Industrial Magic today and it was as good as I remembered. I'm going to read Haunted as I've never gotten around to it. Love those books. Where was I? Ooh yes! He stopped at the Raisin Canes (blech) Got his icky food that he makes me hold so he can eat while driving (double blech)

And the race to Strop City is on! We make it just in time for daughter's work.. she changed in the back seat. *sighs* She gets that from her grandmother, I swear. Then he takes me to the Hellmouth in our hometown. Two trips to Hellmouth in one night! I think I need an exorcist.
Or more likely a good divorce attorney.

My heart my grow three sizes
but it shrinks right back the day after Christmas

Jenna The Redneck Grinch

Champagne Christmas..

2006-12-02T12:52:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays from Jenna Leigh and Champagne Books!

Jake and Allie don't stand a chance against the Neighborhood Inquisition when they set their sights on getting them together. That's not a fiddler on the roof, it's the nosy neighbor with her night vision goggles in the gazebo, beside her is the lusty housewife with her sex-files, along with the mystical misfit and the diva ex sister in law all with the heroine's best interests at heart. Put them together and you have literary weapon guaranteed to split your sides with laughter. So, pick up a copy of Braless in the Buick today, you'll be glad you did especially right now because it's on sale at Champagne Books, just in time for the holidays!

Give the gift of love and laughter this season with a copy of Braless in the Buick and other select print titles on sale now at Champagne Books!

Champagne Books

So, I watched a movie that isn't for kids.

2006-11-28T20:17:00.000-08:00

I've begun to like my child working at McHell quite a lot. It frees mine and hubby's evenings up for things like watching Clerks II without having to worry if MAYBE she shouldn't be watching that sort of thing. The answer is no, she isn't gonna. I'm not really sure if I should have watched it, but I'm glad I did. I love revisiting the old characters and meeting the new ones. Elias was funny, and hearing about Mr. Pillow Pants made me laugh so hard my head hurt. Do I want to watch it again? Do I have a choice is the real question. My hubby's movie habits are somewhat obsessive if you must know. He'll watch the movie until he's got it memorized and then he'll watch it again.

Anyoo, the movie was the raunchiest, crudest, silliest mess I've ever had the fortune to watch. I love the Dante character, because I've been a clerk myself. I've never been a dealer, but umm Kevin Smith is back as Silent Bob, and yeah Jay, the poster boy for Ritalen is back too, though, he seems to be more.. erm.. mellow? Maybe they sprang for him some qualudes this trip or something, I dunno.

I recommend this but only to those that don't get easily offended because they cover it all: sex(of all sorts), drugs, religion, race, creed, bestiality and if that wasn't bad enough, they even pick on LOTR and the poor Transformers. Gah! But, I liked the ending.

Oooh, but I did see the trailer for another one that I am SO going to see one that seems to have just hooked a hose up and SUCKED my hubby's life then blew it out onto the movie screen called FanBoy. It's all about STAR FREAKING WARS! (see previous post titled I am a Star Wars Widow) There is a scene where StarWars geeks meets the Star Trek WARRIORS *ahem* that made me hoot. Of course, I know and you know that if that ever happened I'd *coughs* I mean Star Trek would win. Yes.. cause I mean, I'm not a Trekkie, oh no no, a Star Wars Fan and a Spock Lover cannot co-exist all know that. It would be a warzone, and I'll say again, I'd win.

Spocks Gurl 4-ever
(oh, shut up, Glamazon)

Jenna Leigh

I'm late, but still thankful

2006-11-26T00:26:00.000-08:00

I've been a little busy with family visits, and then doing edits on the Wyvern(whoohooo yeah! *shaking the butt* Go Faelen, it's yo birthday uh huh! *coughs*) and revamping my website, but I'm still very thankful, for a lot of things too..

As I'm a redneck, number one on my list will ALWAYS be..

My mama..
She's wonderfully wise, witty, funny, mean (yeah, this is a good thing) sweet, smart, and full of life. Twice my age with three times my energy, I hope to be like her when I grow up.

My husband..
Compassionate, strong, caring, and easy going enough to put up with ME for the past eight and a half years. He's the one person I know I can count on no matter what. Love you hubby.

My daughter..
Smart, sweet, funny, and just mean enough to say no to the boys. That last one I'm REALLY thankful for. LOL! She's a capable minded girl, and I'm so glad she's mine.

The rest of my family..
They're all pretty cool. They don't try to kill me or each other too often and when they do, it's always entertaining enough to make it either into my stories, or at the least into my blog. Who could ask for anything more outta kinfolk? Except maybe some more sausage bread from my aunt. *whines*

My life..
I've got it pretty good. I have enough to eat, a warm place to sleep, clothes to wear, a job that I can say I hate, yet still keep. I'm also lucky enough to have another life as an author, which gives me the freedom to express myself in ways that I never thought possible, and probably keeps me from killing the folks at my dayjob, that I hate.. ok, I said that before, but it needs repeating.. not that I'm not thankful for it. *winks*

Thankfully yours,

Jenna

PS: Oh crap! I'm ever so grateful for the Evil Feline Overlord, slayer of junebugs, lizards and the odd mouse. *bows low* Forgive me my master. Pffth.

Sexiest Man Alive

2006-11-19T17:48:00.000-08:00

My real pick for Sexiest man is this guy, but hey, I'm not the owner of the magazine..

I'm a romance author, right? So, technically it could be considered research if I say, SNATCHED the People's Magazine off the rack at the Hellmouth and tossed it into my buggy faster than a choc-o-holic pulls the wrapper off a Hersey's Kiss. I'd know about that, as I'm addicted to both handsome faces and the cocoa bean's wonderful by-product. I need inspiration for my leading men after all. They have to have that certain something that makes women want to hop into bed with them, to read about them for over five pages, and well, I mean.. *sighs* Fine, I'm shallow as crap! On one of my loops today I admitted freely that I'd never read the articles in Playboy if I were a man. I also buy books for the cover, and what a cover this book had.

Two words: George Clooney

By themselves they aren't too much, ok, Clooney is a pretty well-known name in Hollywood. Rosemary was a wonderful woman, warm, witty, fun and her voice made you stand up and take notice. Nick Clooney, not so much, but I think he's handsome too.

However, George has always been this mouthwateringly handsome man with dark eyes and a snarky smile that lets you know he's thinking bad things .. or hoping he is anyway. He's also got this sarcastic wit that he usually aims at himself that I really love. Lot's of women realized his sex appeal in ER, but I've I've loved him since he was in Facts of Life, therefore, I have dibs. Yes, I am that old, yall shut up.

If it were only George in the magazine, I'd be happy, but imagine my delight when I turned the pages (wet with drool as they were, I did manage) and found Matthew McHottyheyhey and oh my stars and garters, Hugh Jackman as well, urm.. I may sort of kinda you know think he's kinda hot. *coughs* I flipped past some of the less than stellar entries, and almost thought the rest of the book was a bust I see Johnny Depp (OMG!) and ooh yeah Josh Holloway, who is fast becoming one of my favorite reasons to watch TV. Ah, yes, life is good. Damn the research.. I'm just gonna stare until I rub the glossy sheen off, then maybe I'll go and buy myself another copy. I do wonder if they are tax deductible and if I get paper cuts, can I get workman's comp?

Signed
Jenna Leigh
The Shallow Gal

A Tale of Two Liberties

2006-11-18T18:47:00.000-08:00

Last week I posted about the death of my grandfather in law. Well, we all gathered together to give him a proper redneck waking, which is to say, all of his children, grandchildren and greatgrandchildren came in from around the US to say goodbye and eat and .. get drunk. *raises brow*

So, once all of the family arrived, the babies were kissed, tears were shed, and pantyhose were bought, we got ourselves ready for the funeral. The two children, four grandson, and two granddaughters were put up front and then, we attempted to corral the smaller ones, however, this is easier said than done. But, that helped distract us from our grief, and since it was mostly family, we didn't really care that the baby did the backstroke on the carpet at her Bubba's feet. Nobody but the preacher saw her anyway.

Then it was the trip to the graveyard, over 30 miles away in my neck of the woods. Yes, I'm a transplant, having moved away from my old hometown to live with the love of my life, in another Parish, my mother is most put out. We all line up in our pickups, SUV's and all, and the sheriff's car gets in the front and turns on his lights... as do we, as this is a new law, put in place by our darlin gov. *frowns* She needs to deal with the real issues and leave things like lights during funerals and helmets, etc alone, but that's another blog for another day.

Anyhoo, as we leave one parish and head into another, yet another policeman takes over our escort. At the stop signs, policemen wait with their hats off and their badges covered, which is a very nice thing to do, and always makes me tear up when I see it.

The trouble begins when we hit the bridge leading into MY old Parish. Oh the joy! We head off to the Y that leads to the town that holds the graveyard that will be Joe's final resting place, but we don't go Right.. no we go LEFT. I say, in my sweet dulcet tones, "Why are we going this way? Does not this smart policeman know the way to Liberty?" (yes, I did say this!) Ok, fine, I yelled at the top of my voice that we were going the wrong way and the po-po was insane, are you happy? It did no good, but I felt better.

Like lemmings we follow him for over 35 miles over hill and dell through some of the most twisted pathways and pig trails that F-ville has to offer until you have to practically pipe in sunshine. We pass a sign that says: Liberty Baptist Church with an arrow pointing down the road to take.. the policeman goes right past it. Again, I point, again I yell, again, we follow, like dumb ducks, until finally we begin to see granite headstones. Then, I notice something about the church at the end of the circle drive. First off, Liberty Baptist doesn't have a circle drive and secondly, it isn't white with a steeple.

They've brought us to the wrong church. They've brought my pawpaw in law to the wrong planting place! OMG in heaven!! The horror, the humanity, the utter unmitigated gall and atrocity! The.. *snorts* Ok, I laughed. Yes, I did. See, the name of this church is Liberty Hill Baptist the name of the church we're supposed to be at is Liberty Babtist Church. Now, what's in a name you ask? Well, about 15 dollars worth of gas and 5 inches off the short fuse of our uncle's temper! I thought he and the DH's daddy were gonna whack that cop! Good thing there was a handy graveyard to bury him in huh?

So, we all turned around in the convenient circle drive and went back the way we'd come, more than likely giving the people we'd just had pull off on the shoulder the idea they we'd just chunked our deceased relative in the hole and ran. We did make it to the correct church and we did lay Joe to rest beside his beloved Mae.. and you know, I'm betting he laughed too. He liked riding round and this time he bought all of us along for the ride.

Comments heard after the funeral..

"Gosh the trip back didn't take long at all! "
"Why didn't we go back the way we came?"
"Where we lost?"
"Did yall see that dog and quail statuary? How tacky OMG!! I want one."
"Why is the cop in such a hurry?"

Give me Liberty or give me death, but give me the right one!

Jenna

PS: No, I did not shoot the sheriff. But my father in law shot the deputy (the finger)
PPS: Good news was, no goats in the graveyard this time. Or Emus. Or Jackasses. Did I mention this is the woods? Do I really gotta?

Come Chat With Jenna Leigh and JMorgan

2006-11-16T19:32:00.000-08:00

Chat on Coffee Time Yahoo Loop
Friday November 17th
6 PM - 9 PM Central
7 PM - 10 PM Eastern

Click to join karenfindoutaboutnewbooks

Join Jenna Leigh, and J. Morgan author of 'The Michelangelo Blues' from Triskelion Publishing, as they heat up the Internet with excerpts from their books, prizes, and more!!

For Joe

2006-11-10T22:18:00.000-08:00

I've already lost my grandparents.. maternal and paternal, however, one lone person stepped in to fill the void, and did so admirably for a very long time, and his name was simply, Joe. Not papaw, grandpaw, or any other moniker for me, as I had all those in the past, just a simple Joe would do. After his wife of many years passed away, he began that slow slide into old age that we all saw but chose to ignore in favor of believing he'd live forever, despite his own protests and yes, wishes to the contrary.

I knew he loved her and missed her very much indeed. He lived in that house without her to fuss and fight with him for seven long and lonely years and I knew it was hard, but he did it for one reason: grandkids. Wait, let me clarify, great-grandkids. The babies, the little ones and up until a few months ago, you could just say, the girls, then my hubby's brother finally broke the curse and made a little boy.

So, after drifting along in a life that must have seemed half full, made only brighter by the visits of the children of his grandchildren, and yes, the most recent addition to the family by his own son, Joe somehow kept his cheerful demeanor around him. I knew he missed her, as he'd tell us. I knew he felt his time was nearing an end, as he informed me of this when he had an xray during his last hospital stay. His "I'm bout ready for the boneyard." was met with a, "Aw, Joe, don't say that." by me and a hug. But, somehow, I felt he meant it this time.

With him, I've seen my own child have contact with someone who is older and wiser and she's learned patience. She's very good with the elderly,and I'm proud of her. With him, I've seen that old age is a sly and steathly thing that slips up on you without you really knowing it's happening until it's too late to do anything about it but sit there in your chair and let it run its course. With him, I've learned that heredity is alive and well and you'll reap what you've sown in the form of your grandchildren. One took him for long rides, another is shy and quiet, yet another is stoic, and all, including my husband are remarkably good with children.

I know that looking into his face, hearing his soft, time-worn voice, and even hisstoop-shouldered shuffle are like stepping into a time-machine and going into the future fifty years to have a gander at my husband. To look at Joe, his own son and my hubby and his brothers from the back was like looking at the same man, at 20 year intervals, spooky and strangely comforting. Like some cosmic continuity was in place, a greater hand at work, Father Time maybe? I don't know.

However, the most wonderful gift that I have from Joe, is my husband himself, for I know he got his honor, his heart and his patience from the man that used to sit in the chair and play school for hours on end with a bossy little girl. And allow that same bossy little girl to put stickers and glitter on his face. That man, will always be our Joe, and one day, I know he'll be my Bill too. Until then, I'll miss him.

Love ya,

Jenna Leigh

Oh, why the picture? Well, I'd like to think that he's up there with MY pawpaw, and right about now, fishin'. Maybe their wives are fussin at them about it too, as it should be, like it was, when they were all here, as matched sets.

Five Ribbons from Romance Junkies for Spellfire Moons!

2006-11-06T20:25:00.000-08:00

I'm so psyched! And,yes, still psycho, it is still Monday, after all.

HIGH CHAIRS AND HIGH STAKES is a brilliant story. The baby, Aurora, is adorable. While reading this story I could see it playing on a movie screen in my head. I laughed at Aurora’s baby antics. Matthias and Erin are two people made for each other, their love helped them to over come the evil that was threatening their lives and happiness. Shayla--Romance Junkies

To read the rest, click on the banner below.

Yeehaw!

Jenna Leigh

Nanowrimo

2006-11-05T07:35:00.000-08:00

No not Nano nano .. but National Novel Writing Month. You see if you can write 50,000 words in the month of November. I'm using it as a motivational tool to write Dateless. Yes, I know I've written on it.. However, I found out it supposed to be BIGGER. No, that's not a bad thing. Giving me a bigger yard to play in is very very good news, so, I'm counting all I have from this day forward and by then, it'll be 50,000 words. Will I win? I dunno, I mean I did write 50K last year, and submitted it. And after edits, and additions, that novel, The Wolf's Heart was accepted by Samhain Publishing (SQUEEE!) However, this year I have edits to do on, that novel and The Wyvern with Champagne Books and The Moon of Tigre with Midnight Showcase etc.. Hmmm, but the real IMPORTANT question is: Will I beat Glamazon, Sgt. Brie and all the rest of my friends? *rubs hands together* Oh, I hope so.. muhahahahahahahhahah!

Signed
Jenna Leigh
aka
Mad Cow Chocy Voodoo

Spellfire Moons Makes a Joyful Noise on the Review Front

2006-11-02T17:38:00.000-08:00

High Chairs and High Stakes takes a fun loving good witch and teams her with a vampire, just awoken from a deep sleep that is still trying to learn about life in this new century. Erin and Matthias burn right off the pages, and when you add cutie Aurora it makes a simply wonderful threesome against the coven. Erin just doesn't take herself seriously, but she does take keeping those she cares about safe very seriously, and shows Matthias that life can have the fun parts too. Matthias, sexy, British and a vampire who has an adorable little girl that he adores --I just can't add to that. And what he does with that voice to earn a living...well you will just have to read the book, but it made me laugh out loud being both perfect and unexpected. I was laughing and cheering for them from the start to the end. Ms. Leigh has given the vampire story a new voice and let the humor come out in it. I already plan on re-reading this story several times.

Oooh, they like me..they really like me!! *grins* Thanks so much Joyfully Reviewed!!

To read what the wonderful and wise, Jo has to say about all the Spellfire Ladies, go here
Joyfully Reviewed

And tomorrow is Friday, too, wow, it can't get any better than this yall!!
Squeee!

Doin the Redneck Rhumbah,

Jenna Leigh

At Last My Muse Has Come Along

2006-10-29T20:02:00.000-08:00

And I jumped on that horsie and rode like there was no tomorrow. Ok, so I mixed a song, and a metaphor and I basically called my muse a jackass. And you wonder why she doesn't visit often despite my offerings of chocolate, coffee and various southern fried foods.

Other authors will say write something no matter what, and I usually do too, but lately, I haven't been able to stay awake long enough to write much more than my name, let along a complete sentence, so I didn't even bother. However, last night, I sat down and well.. IT happened. I'm attributing it to my lovely vacation time spent in New Orleans, hence the picture. *grins*

Sometimes, it's like little people get together in my brain and begin to knit these bits and pieces of stories together into a something that I can turn in, like a craft project to my editor and publisher with a "See? I did it, I made this." I feel like a little kid home from camp, proudly showing something to their mom and dad. That I did have a productive time while away.. I can almost hear the tiny needles clacking together and the wee people talking back and forth as they decide that the heroine will do this so the hero will do that. And if it's a comedy, well, someone will very soon be acting like a complete and utter idiot. I'm rather good at writing one of those sorts of characters, you know, for some odd reason. Hmm, I wonder why?

Sharlene and Cade are FBI agents, but that doesn't rule out a bit of insanity now and then. Oh when the chips are down, don't think they can't and won't kick butt, in fact, if I'm not mistaken, Sharlene can kick it better than both her male counterparts and they know it.

I always try and make my characters real.. most of the time I just make them real mean and crazy, especially the women, but I like to keep them lovably so, I hope I succeed with Sharlene and Cade..

So, here's an excerpt that shows the women of Peony Heights aka The Neighborhood Inquisition and the men who fear..er, love them.

Unedited Excerpt of Dateless in the Dodge

Cade, Patrick, and Doug huddled around the window of the Secret Hideout watching the strange happenings in the yard. "Hmm." Patrick squinted. "I didn't know Merry could kick her leg that high. She's been holdin' out on me, the little dickens."

A small creak heralded the arrival of Frank. "I knew Dana could, which is why I'm coming in the back way. She gets a bit antsy after those workouts."

"Aw, poor Frank." Doug laughed. "Barely a moment's peace."

"Ssh, listen! She's giving them a piece of her mind." Patrick cracked the window.

"Ew!" Sharlene shook her head. "I didn't want him here!"

Who was she talking about? Him, of course.

"But, Shar, he's nice." Allie put her arms around her knees.

Gabby yelled in what seemed to be agreement. Cade smiled at that. At least the baby loved him. Sharlene paced back and forth. Despite her anger, he couldn't help but notice the way her skin glowed from her workout. The sun made her hair shine too. He had it bad. "What we have here is a failure to communicate." She whipped around and paced the other way.

"Is she quoting Cool Hand Luke?" Doug stood and walked to the window.

"Um..."Patrick seemed to be thinking about it. "Yeah."

"I didn't want that man here muckin up my plans. And I have some deep and dark plans the likes of which you have never seen!" She held up one finger.

"What plans?" Neeley's radar went haywire at that.

"I will share these plans with you at the time and place of my choosing." Sharlene put her hands behind her back, her shoulders straight. She looked like the soldier he knew she'd once been.

"When will this be?" Allie ventured to ask.

"When your men folk ain't listening in from the Secret Boy Shack behind me." At that, she whipped her head around and pinned them with a glare.

"Ack!" Patrick screamed.

Gabby's head popped up and she yelled, "Pah!" in a tone that would not be denied.

Doug glared at the offender. "Ah damn, we've been routed by a baby and a blonde FBI agent. This is all your fault, Patrick, you wear too much cologne."

"I do not." But Patrick stomped out of the shed to go down and gather the baby up so they could play with her new pink tool set he'd bought just for her.

Cade frowned. "But, what about Mission Impossible?"

Frank clapped him on the back. "Called on the count of girls."

"Ooh Frank." Dana's dulcet tones rang out across the yard.

"Ha ha! You're busted too." Doug snickered.

"Doug, honey? Did you get the weed eating done yet?"

"You sure you want to get tied down, man?" Doug sighed and walked out of the shed with his shoulders bowed.

May all the chocolate you eat go to your muse's hips..
Jenna Leigh

New Orleans Cont..

2006-10-23T19:56:00.000-07:00

I got to talk to Sherrilyn Kenyon!! Yayy! I didn't faint, so I went home and ate some of the chocolate that Ange gave me. Only one piece (ok,four, yall shut UP!) She was so sweet, which is what everyone says, but since it's true, I'll repeat it. She was. Not as sweet as that chocy, but damn close. *licks lips* I may have some of it left. I need to hurry up and finish this dang blog. Go AG!!

This is the pic of Ange as promised. She pretended to be a rabid fan and asked me to sign her copy of my book amid fake squeals. I felt like a Beatle. I signed it Jennzilla. *grins*

Karen on the phone on the way from the airport. Nee and I did not cry, I don't care what they say. *sniffles*

Meme hugging a gator. I hope she didn't contract salmonella.

Please do not attempt this trick at home. I am a professional Po'boy eater. I have eaten big fat sannies all my life. My jaws unhinge at the back, seriously.

The Freaktastic Four at the Hard Rock Cafe`. We had a great time with the rest of the gang. I have pictures but won't post til they say I can. In other words, I have pictures but will keep them for blackmail purposes.

I will say this: I loved New Orleans, my experience with the LaSalle Hotel was nothing but great. The staff was zany, quirky and fun, yet efficient. Meme and I had all the towels and soap we needed, the TV and AC worked (thank you GOD!) and it was clean and well priced.

Everyone in the city was nice to us, they asked us where yall from. The others gave their answers. When I began mine.. they'd stop me. "Hon, we know where you're from.." *pauses* Do yall think that I have an accent? *snort* The only time we had a problem was at House of Blues. The man said you ain't comin out this way, I don't care who ya are. Meme and I gave our puppy eyes and he glared.. then hooted and told us, he was just playin. Then asked where ya from.. again informing me I needn't answer and then asking me if I knew where Springhill and Shreveport was. I do and he seemed delighted.

We even *gasps* went out at night for the Haunted History Tour. Our guide was fun. He told us at no time would a person jump out at us in a mask with a knife as part of a tour. If this happened it was called a mugging and to see him on tips on running and/or screaming and running. This didn't happen of course. I did have to walk with the slightly drunken weenies you see with me below out side of Jean Lafitte's.

My camera was acting up, so here is the only pic that looks half decent from the tour.

I met people that I've known for years, I made new friends, renewed old acquaintances and yes, had a wonderful time. Now, I have go back to work tomorrow. Will I be the same old person? Maybe, but I'll be sure and say that the streets weren't littered with the bodies of the dead. I didn't see any gators, foxes or even rats, I did a dead possum on the side of the road once I got about a mile from MY house. The people didn't steal me blind, they aren't surly, or grumpy or any of that sort of thing.

New Orleans is still struggling in some spots, but what I saw was beautiful and old and mysterious and just plain awe inspiring. I loved it, and I'll go back again at the earliest opportunity I get. I hope you'll give it a try too. We that would be four women and sometimes only two, walked that city in the dark.. we're safe if not sane.

So, don't listen to the rumors, go and see for yourself. Be smart as you would in any large city. I did go into the red light district and ew, not my cup of tea, but I still didn't get mugged or anything. In fact the only person who was spoken to in even a mildly harsh tone was Meme and that was on the phone by *coughs* my mama *coughs* when she answered my cell. LOL!!!

What did you learn in this blog? New Orleans is nominally safe (now that I'm gone) it's still fun, and KCon and Sherri were wonderful. Oh and don't mess with a redneck mama's chick cause she'll unpack the good knives and come after your butt in a hot second. Meme thinks she was evil, heck, that was her nice voice. I do get it honest.

Love
Jenn
Maker of the best sweet tea ever *winks*

PS: Thanks to Ange for the Godiva Chocy and her enactment of Jenn-fandom (((HUGS)))
Karen.. I have the card.. I shall be using it soon.. very soon. Starbucks will know me and despair!
Meems.. F**K Phil!
Nee the bridge didn't kill us it only made us smoke more
Mary.. so wonderful to meet you, finally!
Sollipop.. you shall pay for the chair.. and your evil hubby too
Mels! I finally got to meet you too! Redneckit up!
Nipps.. I've decided the bandages were but a ploy to cover up your hairy Hobbit feet
Mo.. thanks for the bag!
Tiff C is for Coookiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee!
Jacs, Tink, Cy, Mama Lo and all the rest I know I'll forget, Whooooooohooo!
To Lauren who was freakin cool enough to let me smoke with her! *lights one up*
Oh and the Crazy Train riverdancing girl whose name I can't spell, you so frickin rocked!
I hope to see you all again real soon.
The good times rolled.. and rocked too.

PPS: I just got an email sayin that I can start edits on The Tail of the Wyvern! Yeah baby! *sighs* I don't even care that Tuesday is Monday yall.. *grins*

WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOO!

New Orleans: I went.. I saw.. I walked all over the dang place

2006-10-22T19:37:00.000-07:00

We the members of the Kenyon Cult..

And yall, I mean that in the best possible way I can say it. I've been a fan of Sherrilyn Kenyon since I picked up Fantasy Lover and opened the page and saw the pencil sketch of Julian's man chest. I sighed over the color of the cover itself (red) I drooled over the premise (paranormal) I hooted over the snarkfest the females had with each other within the opening paragraph. Plus, it happened in N'Awlins. Whoohoo!

That was the beginning of my love of all things Dark Hunter. Even though Julian wasn't an actual DH, hellooooo NURSE he's hot! and he's still one of my all time faves. I flipped over to the back of that book, saw her website and well, the rest is if not history then some serious chaos and disorder, and while my work on a certain fanfic loop is done, I'll never be free of my addiction.

Where's this lurve-fest all going you ask? Well, I'm getting there. This is a two part blog to show both my love and affection for a wonderful author and person and my love and affection for a wonderful city.

Day 1: I get on a bus with my hubby and daughter both about to step on their lips as they wave me off so I can meet the Neegnome aka Sgt Brie in Jackson Miss for our overnight stay before we head on into New Orleans the next morning to meet with some of the Kenyonites at Commander's Palace for lunch. I bought a small cd player and some used cd's at the last minute to make the trip go faster as I couldn't make my MP3 thingit work (read that Mozilla couldn't do it *pffth!*) As I listen to the Desperate Housewifes one, which is pretty good if I skip those talking bits, the lady I am sharing a seat with keeps scooching me over, therefore, I switch cd's to... Eric Clapton's greatest hits. As I cue up I Shot the Sheriff, I feel all empowered to push her back over to her side. I shall NOT give up my side of the seat to some ill-tempered woman that has a titch more 'back' than me. Nay, nay, thrice nay (nobody died on the bus trip)

Nee calls "Where the hell are you?"

Me: "I'm on da bus" the unspoken, 'with a seat hawg' must come through loud and clear because she snickers and tells me to call her when I'm almost there.. I do and she's waiting for me at the stop. I call hubby and daughter and they sniffle. Aww (ahahahahha! I'm free wweeeee!)

We fly to the hotel room like ninnies, yak and then snore for the rest of the night. Nee sets the alarm and asks for a wake up call being so prepared and some junk. *blink blink blink*

Day 2: The alarm goes off, she kills it.. the phone rings, she kills that too. But me, being this wonderful morning person *cringes at the lightening* gets up and takes her shower and gets ready. Nee glares at me from her hole in the covers under which she has burrowed. "What are you doing?" She growls. I fear she is a coffeevamp. She has this hiss that sounds quite like a perculator. Hmmhmm.

As the sweet one of the group for once in my life, I state that I am ready and waiting for her to do the same. She growls and bounds from the bed and shuffles in the bathroom with one eye open glaring at the sorry excuse for the coffeepot that refuses to emit anything but brownish water. However, we persevere, get ready and go downstairs for some slightly stronger blackish water which I, according to her corrupt by putting in milk and sugar (oh the horror and the humanity I have sinned!)

But like a slightly more feminine version of Willie and Weylon we are On the Road Again.. and damn does this woman fly like a bat outta hell! Oh, but I've failed to mention.. we don't like bridges. Yeah, and we've got to go over Lake Pontchartrain. *squeal!* We're chattering like monkeys and she suddenly notices all the water. "Are we on a bridge?" Her eyes go wide and her mouth gets tight.

I show my ignorance and have to look around for a minute or so, "I ur.. I think so."

"Augh!"

There is the sound of Bic's being flicked, it's like a rock concert in that car. Inhales.. then I try to rationalize. "Well, tis really a raised road. I can jump out if I gotta."

Sgt Brie gives me the eye. "Shet up." *puff puff puff* And on it goes for about 6 million miles until I decide to call Meme, who had just gotten off the plane. Well, what the heck pops up in front of our eyes but the dang airport exit. Nee says, heck, we'll go get em, cause it's both her and Karen as well as Ange.

"OMG We're in Kenner, ain't this where that Booby Spear's is from, Nee? Nee?"

"I'm driving, doon't talk ta mee." (Uh oh.. I hear the cheese in der.. *zips lip*)The road to hell ain't paved with good intentions.. it's paved with the(moderately hawt) bodies of middleaged housewives who don't like driving or riding in big assed cities!! AAACCK!!

All for these two (I don't got a pick of Ange yet but I will *hee hee heeee!* ) we went into TERMINAL HELLGATE

I don't drive *pauses to get on her knees and thank God for this fact* Nee does.. *pauses to thank Him again* But we talk to Karen and/or Meme about 12 times in 20 minutes while driving to the airport.. "We're comin." "Weeeeeee're heeerree wooohooo yeah HELL YEAH HOT DAYAM! I SEE ANGE I SEE MEME OMG KAREN HAS ON SHOES THAT ARE 25 STORIES TALL!I gotta pee. My ass hurts. The bastards broke my suitcase, DEATH AND DISMEMBERMENT!" and stuff to that effect have been bandied back and forth. Nee and I are mainlining nicotine and caffeine as we are slowed to a crawl at the entrance to the terminal.

"Nee, I want my mommy."

"Me too. Call her and tell her to come get us, right now."

Karen: "I can hear you two! Shut up and pick us up at gate 5, you big babies!"

Jenn/Nee: "AAAAAAACK!"

Meme: "What are they doing?"

Karen: "Smoking and whining"

Meme: "Perhaps they need some liquor?"

Karen: "No, but I do!"

(snorts) So, I get out and almost break my fool neck as I have on heels over an inch tall (pah!) I find them or more correctly, they find me. We get back to the van where Nee has rearranged things so all luggage can be shoved into the minivan (ha!) Karen slithers into the back jumpseat in a shortish skirt and high heels without showing her arse. I was most impressed. We drop Meme off at the hotel, park Nee's car and all grab a cab (poor Tink got put on a huge Tupperware thingit) and go to Commander's Palace to eat.. FINALLY.

All of us sit I'm usin aliases to protect the innocent.. not for me, as there ain't one big and bad enough to make me innocent bwahahaha! Nipps, Jacs, Tink, Karen, Mo, Nee, Me, Cy, Ange, Er.. Rose (Hell, if I forget someone, I'm sorry! I was hungry and Nee'd scared beejezus outta me!) .. Ange has arranged this by the way (thank goodness) Who do we see when we sit down? Bill Cosby.. All of them whip out their phones and take his picture. I look at him and think Picture Pages and Pudding.. jeez, I'm old and a pig LOL! Nipps says, Dep and Shawn are coming. However, as always at first, I can't understand crap all she says. It gets better as the next little bit of time passes. I go .. Okies. The waiter asks us if we're sisters. *blinks* Ok.. perhaps Karen, Tink, Nipps and myself and maybe Mo. We all have dark hair and eyes and medium skin. However, Jacs is of an obviously different heritage (I'm not sure what, but she's pretty and looks really kewl) the others ranged from blonde to strawberrry blondes and really white skin. I went yeah but Sisters of What is the question dear.. The Kenyon Cult.. and I made a scary hand sign. Kinda got hard to be waited on after that. *snicker*

Suddenly.. Deb and Shawn come in.. I see a lady about my age and a guy come in. Two chairs are left, one by me and the other down at the other end. They are married. I start to get up and move, but the Deb person waves me down sayin she sits by him all the time, she'll sit by me today. Nipps intro's them as Deb and Shawn in her pretty accent. She sits down holds out her hand calls herself Deb and I said I'm Jenn and she hollers and I look puzzled.. she says.. I'm Sol.. it dawns on me who the damn hell she is!.. Oh and Shawn's really cool, wish hubby could have met him.

Have you finally figured out we're all nutters and we've been released from the booby hatch on New Orleans yet? It hasn't? Well, it damn well should have by now! We had a wonderful time!

We ate like pigs at Commander's Palace off our own plates each other's plates bowls... sang.. yelled hooted.. the cabdriver stalked Tink's cell.. dear Lord! I met Sherri! Omg!!!!! *pant pant* Hubby is most jealous. He's her biggest fan (in height more thank likely) All of them were sweet, I the LOS and DH loopers in person for the first time.. And I had a blast. I loved it.. even the damn Chair Incident.. you will all bloody well pay.

Loved it.

I'll post more tomorrow.

Tired as hell, but smilin

Jenn

PS: I came home and I made MY sweet tea (my only complaint)

Going to N'Awlins..

2006-10-19T10:59:00.000-07:00

Yeah!! The Home of the House of the Risin Sun.. the Birthplace of Jazz (some say) Where you can get down, get ill, get a tattoo, go see a stripshow on one street, go to a beautiful church on the next. Yes.. New Orleans is still struggling, but I'm sure I'll be able to see its former glory shining through.

What I'm really going to see is friends I've never met in person, and I'm soo soo lookin forward to it! And if you must know, that's what I feel the city is all about. Many feel that it's crime ridden and all that, but I'm pretty sure the people are friendly as ever.. for the most part. You only hear the bad things, as that sort of thing is newsworthy.

It really doesn't matter, because the group I'll be with includes:
The Redneckuberbitch(me) who will nag them to death.
Cheesecutterbitch (Nee) who I'm sure has some mad covert needle sticking skills left over from the military.
The Glamourpuss (haaa! Karen'll kill me for that!) who'll cut you with her high heels
TheMysticalwitchbitch(Meems) who will Meme them within an inch of their lives, then whack them with her murse of doom.

I will state for the record that Kitta.. aka AssassanistaBitch will be there in spirit cheering us on. In case of an emergency, I can channel her and cut someone off at the knees *coughs* with my fingernails.

You think we're scared? Well, think again, but we are savvy enough to stay out of situations that would get us into danger in the first place. Of course, there are others that are going as well, and they ain't so nice either.. Mmmm.. Cookie Galore hides a mean streak, this I know and The Stellar one would probably whack them a time or two as well... or should I say SHELLack them? Yes.. ok, I'm off to get ready, perhaps I'll even shave my legs so I won't shock the Cheesehead with my hirsuteness, *sigh*

Yall have a good one, I'm off to see Sherrilyn Kenyon!!! and you know.. perhaps consume a few million calories worth of junk food. Ooh and there is a Starbucks in Glamazon's hotel. Yes, I shall visit her daily.

Wish Us Luck.. I have a feeling we're gonna need it..

Les Le Bon Temp Roule' (I think that's how ya spell it)

Jenna Leigh

PS: And today is my birthday.. it couldn't get any better than this.. WHOOHOO!! *shakin the birthday ass*

It rained on Monday.. big surprise..oh, and so was this.. ew!

2006-10-17T19:49:00.000-07:00

We all know that Monday's suck, big time, so rain only makes it more sucky. I won't fuss too much, as we needed some of the wet stuff. My daughter who is still a new driver drove home in it, slowly and carefully, which made me very proud. I was cooking chili and pralines *winces as she hears the sound of a far off Sgt Brie scream of joy* Dang! Yes, I can multi-task, I'm a woman.

As I do these two things, I'm looking out the window for her car, once I see it, I go and hold the door open so she can run in, she waves for me to come out, I give her the patented 'EFO it's raining, ain't happening' stare. She sees, my stare with and raises it with an eye roll, and gets out of her car, puts her purse on her shoulder and then.. does something very odd.. *blinks*

She goes and gets a baby carrier out of her back seat. (screams in horror) What the crap?!? I stand on the top step to block her way into the house. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

She plants her fist on her hip and snarls, "Look, Granma Gandalf, back up and let me through. I'm gettin wet and this is for a grade." and shoves me out of the way.

I sputter, "But..but..but.. that thing, is it real? Eww.. it's a baby! Get it out of here! The cat will kill it you know."

The EFO is already at the door staring at it with his tail fluffed out three times its normal size. (Like the Grinch's heart, but it does NOT mean the same thing at ALL!) He sniffs and meows in his tiny voice. It behooves me to point out that EFO is like a certain prizefighter in that he sounds small, but fights and is large.. he bites too. I won't name this fighter because I don't like people that bite off other's ears but he don't endorse grills, yall. However, no matter how tinny his mew, he is evil which he proves within 10 seconds of her sitting this electronic demonic baby(henceforth called EDB) down by swatting it with his paw. If it smells like hell and looks like a demon, it IS demon in his book and he will not tolerate competition for his spot as top demon.. er.. well, anyways.

The Teen Queen shoos him away and flops down on the couch for her half hour veg session during which time she watches the most heinously stupid shows that MTV and/or VH1 can shovel out. At precisely 5p.m the EDB lets out a high tinny wail that I'm sure has been calibrated to travel up and down my spine at the speed of the freak. ACK! Plus, it never closes its eyes! At ALL! Ew..

I would also like it known it has not even been blessed by my lazy assed genes so that it sleeps all the damn time. How dare these teachers give us some alien yankee baby that never sleeps and eats 2 oz of non-existent formula at a time? I tell you what, my daughter drank a whole bottle at 2 weeks and slept the night through. Jeez! Ok, she was 5'8" tall by the age of 12, but what's your point? And it is wearing this pink hoodie that makes it look like nothing so much as those kids in that movie The Brood. EW!!

But, get this, she can't dump it off on me, cause she has to wear this special bracelet that has a microchip in it that matches the one on the EDB.. and it records everything that happens! OMG! It's little sister, and it's watching her! Wow!

This whole thing was for parenting class by the way, which is a good for one thing.. If you don't wanna take care of the cryin lil twits, THEN YOU BETTER USE PROTECTION!!

Her grandfather teased her by saying, you be careful with my great-grandbaby on the way to school now! *snort*

It still looked creepy though.. ick! Just in time for Halloween.. Chuck Lives and he had freak nasty babies to send out to unsuspecting peoples' homes. They wait until you go to sleep then they come in your room and.. *urk*

Jenna Leigh
Who is terrified of dolls, but that stud holding the baby up there makes me feel LOTS better *grins*

Braless In the Buick

2006-10-15T20:59:00.000-07:00

Photobucket

2006-10-15T20:57:00.000-07:00

This is a test post from Photobucket.com

Blogging for Friday 13th Queen is playing too.. wow..

2006-10-14T00:37:00.000-07:00

More on the picture at the bottom. *grins*
I've had a rough week. I've felt sort of icky all this month. Tired, run down. My neck aches. I just feel so .. blech.

So, Friday 13th rolls around. The big bad day. Oh what the flip ever! I'm so not into that woo woo bad luck thing.

This morning on the way to work I tell hubby. Sh sh sh sh ha ha ha ha kill kill kill.. Happy Anniversary Honey. *grins* This is the day of the month we got married on, you see. He grins and says it back, without the cheesy Jason Musack, though, as he's driving and you know, can't have the music going and like.. SEE TO DRIVE!! *rolls eyes* Don't frickin' ask, yall. I don't want to open that can of hubby is a goober redneck freako worms. *sighs* Suffice to say, my daughter and I are not happy to ride with him, thank the bitch goddesses of the DMV that she has her lil piece of plastic that says SHE can frickin drive now. YAYYYY!!

Ooohkay, where the crap was I? oooh! Yeah! Friday the 13th. big old badass day. Right? Mmmhmm. Right.

I come home, early cause, well, hell, yesterday I had to stay all day by myself, I may add. From 7 to 5, I was alone, deprived of a lunch and breaks. *wails, gnashes teeth, whines and flails around upon the shores of despair* What? Oh shut up. So, today I ask my boss, the Big T-bone.

"Might I since, I was all by myself go home today?"

Before I get it all out he says "YES, GO JUST GIT GONE!!!"

*blink* You'd think they wish me to leave the pit of despair with all haste, wouldn't you? Well..just.. FINE! I know when I'm not wanted. I tell fellow evil co-worker that I am gone.. she gives me the snarl of snarkitude and I give it back. We are sisters of slavery, we know we are peons meant for the meat market. We know they will grind us down into numb little nubs of nothingness, they will use us up until there is nothing left and toss us aside. *sniffles*

So.. by golly, I ran out of that place and hubby and I went to..

The damn Hellmouth!

I had to get a new fan, my other one quit. Paid a dollar for it since the so-called fan season is over, to make way for Deer season. As if it's cold down here, pah! You know I think am fast approaching a milestone in my life. It is one I look forward to with all the glee of a child that hears the sound of the icecream truck's jingling tune. Yes, I've begun to experience what some call hot flashes, but what I like to call.. POWER SURGES.. oooh The Menopause is upon me, I believe. Some think of it as the end of womanhood. Oh bull! Honey, the day I can stop staking out the feminine product aisle is the day I shall celebrate.

I'm gonna build a big old bonfire in the front yard and guess what I'm gonna use as kindling. You guessed it! Them wings is gonna burn baby burn!

Anyhoo, I've been having a small medical prob, tired and icky. But I've found out about it and hopefully got it fixed. Yahoo for my doctor!! Hail to the man! He's wonderful!

So, this week has been bad for the writer in me. I've written a little on Dateless, but that is it. I've read over some of my other stuff, edited it, shored it up, polished it. But nothing, because I've hurt so bad and been so tired. Today I came home after the trip to Hell.. mouth and went to bed.. Then JMorgan *grins* tells me Whoohooo My book is OUT!!! Hoorah for JMORGAN AND CHARISSA!!!!

You can see their new releases at:

Triskelion

The Michelangelo Blues by JMorgan is a romantic suspense with some sarcastic comedy. The heroine is funny, and sassy, the hero is quirky, hot and sexy as hell. Reminds me of my hubby. *drool*

The Viper Queen by Charissa is a historical with a kickass heroine and a seriously hot broody hero, trust me, Charissa specializes in the big bad batman. She is the best at those. Dayam!

So, if you read my blog. And if you do, I ask why. The answer is probably so you can look at yourself and say.. Look, I'm not as crazy as Jenn is, so ha, I'm all good! Well, la dee da for YOU! But if you do read it and you're wondering why I have Chao aka Aaron Kwok up there at the top beside the drool factor that I have for him, well. He's sort of the inspiration for the character for my story The Wolf's Heart. Marcus Bei is a wonderfully wacky and wickedly hot werewolf who lusts after the sinfully sassy, sexy Elaine Westabrook. Alliteration much? What the hell do you expect at 3 a.m? Why am I mentioning them you ask?

Oh well, *shrugs* Samhain Publishing offered me a contract on them is all. It was waiting in my inbox as I lay on my lazy ass watching Man of the House for the third time. (killing brain cells!jaysus!) On Friday the 13th no, less. Yeah.. that's um.. all..

Yall have a nice night..
Well. Morning..

Jenna Leigh.

PS.. oh um..

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! OMG!! WHOOHOO!!!

Oh yeah, I'm freakin out. May never sleep again.

Why Do Fools Fall In Love?

2006-10-12T19:39:00.000-07:00

You may as well ask why birds sing...

I write romance.. or I try to.. and I like to make my romances funny too.. so... I should know what love is right? Riiiiiigghhtt..

Singers sing about it, writers write about it, painters will paint pictures of it and save themselves a thousand words or more.

It's not a chemical reaction, like Tina Turner sang in the 80's fresh from her divorce from the wicked wacky Ike. He needed killin in my book, but that's just the redneck talkin, honest.

Love is a mystical, magical, maniacal sort of thing that just happens. Sometimes it goes BOOM! And hits you like the proverbial ton of bricks when you least expect it , and more than likely least need it to do so, and with the least likely person. That kind, while it burns hot, sometimes also burns out really fast too. Sorry, to say it, but this is true.

But often Love is a stealthy sly creature. Like the ninja it slips into your heart, and sits there quietly waiting for you to notice that hey, this person you've known all your life, or at least a year or two is THE ONE.

There won't be any cheesy harp music like in the movies, unless you have some sort of mental disorder. Oh but, if you do, more power to you. I'd be ok with an illness that played instrumental music when I met the the love of my life. All I felt was a mild queasiness that signaled that I may have probably in all likelihood in the worst case scenario met the man of my dreams. Dither much, libra girl? Sheah!

Then again, love changes.. almost like a living breathing thing, it grows into something else as time passes. Friendship can grow into a passionate love affair and visa versa. It can kill you, driving you crazy, make you weep, laugh, drink, thirst, hunger. It can consume someone's thoughts to the exclusion of all else. Make a strong man weak.. a weak man strong..just ask the Grinch.

But what is it? Why do human's feel it? Do animals feel it? Some believe their pets do.. I'm not so sure my cat loves me, but I'm sure he would miss the food I put in his dish. Dogs though, yeah, they have the I love you eyes thing down pat. Nobody can make those eyes like a dog..

Cynics will tell you it's just something to sell novels and cards on Valentine's Day. But a true romantic will tell you that Love is what makes the world go around, not the sun's gravitational pull or whatever the hell. I hope that if you haven't found THE ONE that you will.. I've heard that beer helps a lot.

Love is a many splintered thing *winks*

Jenn

Bras, Books and A Starbucks, Hallelujah!

2006-10-07T18:05:00.000-07:00

When last we left our intrepid southern mean girl, she was dreading her upcoming trip to the Hellmouth, knowing it would entail spending her hardearned paycheck upon necessary yet perishable goods on which her family would gorge themselves. *oink oink oink* However, this day was made slightly better than most by the fact that she got not 1 but 3 books from ze Book Nazi without Mortal Combat with said nazi as she was off in the bowels of her dark and forbidden cave in ze back *coughs* Sorry, the accent slips in you know. *grins* Master of Swords, Kick A$$ and Book of Spirits fell into her hot lil hands with no trouble at all with the added bennie of a large iced mocha for energy.

Woohoo!!

So, she hiked through the wilds of the Hellmouth on a caffeine high while avoiding the horrid evil people that liked to get in her way for no reason other than to piss her off. She didn't even have the armor of scrubs to make them afraid of her, instead she was dressed in a pair of cute navy capri sweats and bright red top. Mmph! How dare they use her fashionable looks against her. Well, she'd just run their asses over! Ahaa!! Note to Glamazon: You were right, shopping cart-a-cide does give you a nice glow.

Then, as she and sainted hubby were about to rush home to pick up Mozilla from McHell a ring on the Bitchphone alerted them to the fact that they weren't to get her until 5pm. Therefore, there was time to get the all important bra.. (shet it) So, Jenn.. being without the mother who loves to flash her goods to the world, decides to run to the store and get one. OOooooooh eeww eeek. She did so, with great haste and no little cursing of stupid pregant women whom are apparently off limits to ass kicking despite the fact that they want the cashier to ring up items one at a time even if there are 22 people behind her fat, pregnant tight pants wearing self! You know who you are woman, Karma is after you.. I have my contacts and they are on their way!

Anyway, hubby hopped around in this line like a lil boy having to go pee pee and he whined about it, but there aren't many options for the bazoomably endowed, so he had to deal. Yes, yall, I bribed him, stating I'd buy him food. Gah! However, as neither of us will agree on what foods shall be eaten, the mall was decided on as the food court offers a variety in one convenient spot. And lo... there is something new at the Mall...

***

Ahem.. do the dreamie fade thing please *wavy wavy woo woo*

Jenn hikes up the metaphorical mountain grown every morning and asks a very important question "Oh Dearest Java Goddess when shall I be blesssed with good coffee? Why must I be deprived of it? All of the other girls have it." She sniffs and lays coffee beans on her coffee altar before she turns sadly away.

The Java Goddess looks down at her sad little alcolyte as she shuffles off with her inferior cuppa and knows it is time.

"By the Blessed Beans this brave child has lived long enough without the good stuff.. ..

THUNDER BOLTS AND LIGHTENING..

GIVE JENNZILLA HER WISH!!"

Lo.. What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east.. and Starbucks is the one.. eh, I'm not gonna butcher the classics to let you know how happy I was when we pulled into the mall and saw the familiar little circle outside the food court.

I yelled.. "HUBBY!!" and pointed. He sighed, no doubt envisioning many trips to the mall that he'd not had to make because I hate the place. Oh hubby, the force is strong within you... Jethro the Redneck Jedi you are.

You must understand that I've lived in a culturally deprived outpost of humanity having to content myself with those little bottled Starbuck thingits that are frankly, nasty as hell. Sorry, Java Goddess.. ew.

So, I start to go to my food place and stop, only to be bumped into by my hubby who for once in his miserable life wants what I want if only because he don't want to stand in line. We get Chick Fil-a and I go to the *sigh* Starbucks. I get an Iced Mocha (my second if you're counting) It is divine. I shouldn't be surprised for the Java Goddess had chosen to bless me, as she loves me.

Today has been good. The booby fairy smiled on me and gave me two bras that fit. The Book Nazi was out so I got three books that I wanted. And lo and behold the Starbucks has gone redneckin!! Life couldn't get any better than this. I may never blink again, though. Caffeine is good!

Jenna Leigh
Java Ho
Third Coffee Pot from the Sun

Mozilla is Mobile

2006-10-06T21:16:00.000-07:00

That's right, she passed her driving test with flying colors. Hubby was most cast down. I think he was hoping she'd fail so that this milestone wouldn't pass quite so readily. Instead she squealed out of the metaphorical driveway so fast she left tiremarks. One more bridge crossed on the route to the the empty nest syndrome that shall hit him very hard, I fear.

Anyway, we go to the DMV.. *insert the evil music here* This could be an awful experience, but it isn't, simply because I know someone that works here, and she's very sweet. That's right a nice person works at the DMV ladies and gentlemen! I also have to get my ID renewed and while I'm doing that with the nice person, the evil man is doing my child's lisence. My hubby is not my child's biological father and therefore can't do her stuff for her. I'm in the next booth doing my thing, and so, nice lady hands my old id over the side and says he'll have to wait which is fun. *grins*

Now I have a new id, on which I am grinning like a loon. Ffth.

However, daughter PASSED! She aced her test! hoohoo!! Go Mozilla! You rock! Now you can be drivin' Ms Crazy aka your mama.

Now back to your regularly scheduled insanity in which I attempt to write something that resembles a story. Oh, and erm.. I'm going to NOLA in about two weeks.. Yall better watch out!!

Jenna Leigh

Bite Me--My Vamp Addiction

2006-09-29T19:10:00.000-07:00

You could say I have a form of vampirism, if only literary. And ony if they looked like him..

As a child, I was terrified of vampires, beginning at the tender age of five when I stayed up late and watched Nosferatu on Scifi Theater on my 12 inch black and white. The sight of that thing crawling up the bricks and into the window to bite the neck of the lovely maiden had me huddling under the covers for over a year.

Just about the time I got over that and could sleep with my neck uncovered at night, along came a mini-series called Salem's Lot. Oh, Stephen, thou art the King of plumbing the depths of my psyche. This time the fanged ones were on a bigger screen and in technicolor. That tall green guy was the stuff of a 6 year old's nightmares. I put crosses on my neck.. I don't mean crosses as in a necklace, oh no, you people know me better than that by now. I drew them in magic marker on my neck. When I bathed them off, I drew them again. Thank God it was summer. I still won't watch it now. Though, I will admit, the parts I have seen are no longer as frightening as they once were, the little kid pecking at the window and the dude in the rocking chair with the glowing eyes still give me a big case of the heebs.

Score three for the King.. (1) no open curtains at night (2) no creepy strangers in my house after dark who can't enter without my invite (3) No corn (wait, that's another blog, sorry)

For six years I was terrified of vampires. Then three things happened almost at once.. Two movies Fright Night. (erm. wow) That man was seriously hot and I thought the words in my title for the first, but not the last time. You got it. "Oh yeah baby, bite Me." *sighs*

The other movie? Well, um, I'll admit to having a big old soft spot in my heart for Love at First Bite. George Hamilton may have had to wear clown white pancake makeup, but who cares? The drunkenly uttered line, "Renfield! They thought I vas a black chicken. *hic!*" will forever be next to the final nail in the coffin of my fear of vampires. (pun intended)

What was the death knell of my fear of the undead? Well, one day while I was in spending rainy recess in the library, I noticed a book on the shelf in my highschool library. While jr high kids weren't supposed to be able to check some books out, I was allowed as (a) I was special and (b) I was the librarian's pet. If you check out 10 books a week, this is sort of thing tends to happen *coughs* especially if you bring them all back again. The book was Interview With the Vampire. This opened a whole new world to me, a former fang-o-phobe.

The rest is history.. or

His and Her-story.

From Anne I progressed to..

Laurell K Hamilton-Anita Blake and Jean Claude
Jim Butcher-Dresden Files
Sherry Kenyon-Dark Hunters
MaryJanice Davison-Betsy the Shoe Vamp
Angela Knight-Mageverse and any other vamp she'll write for me (slurp)
Kim Harrison-I love her play on the Clint Eastwood movie titles!!
Charlaine Harris-The Dead as Series
Katie MacAlister-one funny lady

In other words, I'm addicted to fangs.. I love a story with bite. Gimme a good book with a dark broody hero who has a sharp smile, a taste for the red stuff, and an aversion to sunlight, and you've got a fan forever, literally. If you can add a sarcastic wit, some big action scenes and a few twists and turns in there, hey, you've got the makings of a hit television series. If you don't belive me, ask the Buffites who I didn't include because unlike most, I'm not a fan. Please don't stake me.. I liked the original movie better. But Spike would have made a way cool Harry Dresden for Jim Butcher's book to TV series.

So, now you know how one scared little girl made her way to the vampire romance aisle in the bookstore. It's a long and sorted story filled with pain, angst and yes, b-movies. I feel that it was a growing experience, and if it helps one fang-o-phobe come to terms with their fears then I know that I will not have blogged in vein. *winks*

Is that a stake in your pocket or are you happy to see me?

Jenna Leigh

I'm having a signing and a reading on Saturday!!

2006-09-28T15:21:00.000-07:00

*Takes a deep breath* If you're in the area, stop by and pay us a visit!

Windows a Bookshop
609 Park Avenue
Monroe LA 71201
(318) 361-9004

Please join us for

Local Authors Day
Saturday Afternoon
September 30, 2006
2:00-4:00
Each author will speak or
read for five minutes; a
book signing will follow.

Jenna Leigh

Spam I am... not

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

All Aboard the Sprain Train

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

I've been hit with a tag from Dee.

Interview with the Baby Vampire

Where is The Wolf's Heart?

Say what? Bitter Bayou Babe Rant

Promo for the JMo!

The Fam-a-razzi Strikes Again!!

The Wolf’s Heart Available in Print!

A Light Goes Out

Gone Crazy

Top 5 things you should know about LSU Tiger Fans

Tumbling down the rabbit hole or beware of plot bunnies

For all you Tiger Fans

Dog Day Some Day

What's in a name?

What happens in DunVegas is happening now and it's free!!

A wyvern, a succubus and a witch walk into a bar

October News-Happy Halloween!

Panthers and Cougars and now Bears? Oh My! Wait.. Oh, Crap!

Contest for the Month of October!

Six Degrees of Southern Separation

Path Not Taken, Road Not Traveled, Heart Still Broken

Remember

Faith, Saints and Cable TV

Paco? ..Hell

Still Goin Braless?

Disturbing Revelations

Tomorrow is Friday. So to celebrate..

Why I'll Never Be One of the Shiny Happy People

I wanted to be purple

A WHITE Dragon Lies Beneath!

Converting Others to Javaism

The Jenmpson is Partying On Down

Hellmouth a Safe Haven or.. Big Brother?

Life in a Small Town

Nana Lagoon or the River of No Return

I'm a Full Featured Girl

So.. Killed Anybody Lately?

Fantastic? Hmm, pretty good.

Time to Howl!!

The Last Legacy is out now!

Trailer Trash Barbie and Her Little Sister is Skipper

Somthin' Sinister's A'Slitherin' at the Circle K

Like Pulling Teeth

I Write Corrected

Chatting Saturday

Obsessive MS Polishing Disorder

Uhh EFO, I don't think we're in Louisiana anymore.

How to Beat the Not Going to RT Blues

Amazon Teen Queen of Mean's Night Out

But You Have Such a Pretty Face

So.. I'm The Devil

The cover for The Wolf's Heart is up on the Samhain Site!

My Mother, My Daughter and Me

I admit, I got a thinkin' problem.

Join us at Coffee Time Romance on Tuesday

Do you hear what I hear?

When your hubby always..

Coming Soon Means Freak Out Time

Compromising My Principles

Watching a Movie With One Eye Closed

Boys have cooties and other things I knew in kindergarten

Ya know, he does this to get back at me

Braless in the Baptist Church and Other News

Maybe it's not nice to tease your critique partners

Let's Hear It For the Sacrificial Goats of the World

How did this happen?

Good news, for the most part.

New Year New Me and They Like Me They Really Like Me

Crazy Days of Christmas

Coffee Time Romance and Champagne Books

Five Favorite Christmas Songs

Becka has Tagged me! Bah Humbug

Rated Auurgh.. or Oh Johnny *sighs*

Ho Ho Ho .. oh Just Shoot Me!

Champagne Christmas..

Rated Auurgh.. or Oh Johnny sighs