Drivin Ms Crazy to the Store.

I'm Ms Crazy and she's Mrs. Crazy..

Ok, so we're a matched set. So what?

Let me let you in on a little secret. I despise shopping for real clothes. I work in a place where I get to wear what amounts to jammies. And, while modern scrubs come in cute colors and prints for girls these days, they are still basically the same cut. Yes, that's right, scrubs are pillowcases with arm, leg and head holes. And no, I'm not talkin sheets, GAH!

Well, I have a function that I have to go to where I have to look 'smart' fashionable, and cute. That would be my book signing on the 30th of this month. If I'm going to bomb, I want to look fashionable while doing so.. Not scrub wearing, grubby, like when I go grocery shopping. I'll wear them then, I so don't care. People don't mess with a scrub wearer at the Hell mouth. They know you've been at work all day and are probably at the end of your tether. (more on that at the end)

Mommy and she's mommy when she has to pick out your clothes, not mother, mama or mom...it's MOMMY! I've regressed to being a two-year old. I don't even CARE!--says, sure, sweetie, we shall shop til we drop, and she gets this.. GLEAM in her eye that I can see over the phone.. I can hear it.. it makes a strange sound.. like this MUUUUAAAAAAAAAHHHH!

Factor into it that I'm a big girl.. especially in a certain region of my anatomy.. (They're boobs Ed) and you've got a hissy fit waiting to happen in the racks of a regular store. However, Mommy knows of a store that has mondo kewl clothes as she sees them upon the grand teetons of her co-worker every single day. My mother is observant of the important things, you know. *coughs*

She zooms up in her truck (yes, she's a redneck too!) and kidnaps me and takes me to the store, nice place, reasonably priced and hey, they have a bunch of clothes for women with bazooms.


*Small aside, her hubby calls and says, "Hey, you know what I forgot?" She says, out of the blue.. "The bb gun?" OMG! what in the hell? They're crazy!*

So, I'm in the little cramped hole of a dressing room and she's standing right outside going..

M= Mommy
J= Me

M: Well? *pulling the curtain*

J: Don't open that! I'm nekkid! *jerks the curtain back closed*

M: There's only women here! Chill out!

J: I don't care! Back off! OMG! This shirt looks like something Dolly wore in Best Lil Whorehouse in Texas!

M: It does not.. *snatches the curtain open* finally, she triumphs.. EW!! It does, what the hell? Where did you get those? *points at those in question* I mean, I don't have them!

I'd like to say..as if I've contracted them, like booby VD or something, Jeez! Yes, mother, I caught them in the gym locker room, cause I didn't wear flipflops.. fffth! However, as I'd like to live without the humiliation of having a buttwhippin at the age of thirty *muttermuttermutter* I only say out loud..

J: Harumph! *snatches the curtain back closed* Then I whine cause I have a cute pair of dressy capris with the cuffs, however ,they have that damn freaky button on the inside which I hate, because.. you guessed it, I can't see over the bazooms. *sighs*

M: *taps foot* What are you doing in there? *snatches the curtain open again* Just leave that one undone! I do! You can't see over your bewwbeees! (she sings it, you know)

Then, thank God, she runs off into the store and finds a pair of pants for herself, which show her tiny, nonexistent arse off to full advantage. Yes, that's right Mommy is skinny.. tiny.. petite even!! I'd hate her but she's wonderful.. and she almost got into a fight with two large women who were mocking her when she exclaimed over a pair of pants that she said were, "Gorgeous!"

Ok, she almost got ME into a fight with them. I was innocently cursing buttons in the dressing room. I'd have gotten her back too. I had hangers and I wasn't afraid of using them.

So, I have three, yes, three new outfits.. a pair of dressy capris, denim capris, cute jeans, three tops .. and oh damn.. I forgot shoes..

Close your eyes, Karen.. I'm about to utter the P-word.

I'm bloody well going to Payless, surely they have something that will suit my cheap and tawdry needs. LOL!! Poor Karen, she's been traumatized. Ah well.. She'll like my cute denim capris when she sees them in NOLA next month (yipeee!!), I'm calling em that, not gauchos, DAMMIT!

As to the Hellmouth..

Hubby went to his favorite eatery. He took his food into the store and plunked it down into the cart and hid it under my purse.. *growls* I forgot it was there and walked to health and beauty to get the shampoo, tooth paste etc.

As I did so, I received strange looks and thought, well crap, they can smell these stupid chicken strips.. ew! However, I turn around suddenly and there is this HUGE glowering man behind me.. salivating.

"Why for you take off with my food?" He growls in his deep scary voice. People scatter in the face of Billzilla. He proceeds to treat the trip to the Hellmouth as a picnic. He pushes the buggy up and down the aisles, stuffing his face and throwing things into the buggy while I sip my iced mocha and yes, chill.

I think I'll just give him food on every trip. Sort of like that donkey and carrot trick to make him pull the cart. People moved out of our way because if they got too close, he either glared, or growled. The hubby only gets that way if you come too close to his plate.

In the immortal words of the smartest man on Friends. "Joey don't share food."




Jenna Leigh
Capris, I mean it!

PS: Karen.. PAYLESSSSSS!!!!!

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

Is Disney to blame? Or is it because so many of us have been deprived of it in reality for much of our misbegotten lives do we want a guarantee of happily ever after happening in the books we spend our hard-earned cashola on, and I mean spend. HEA aka Happily Ever After is what romance is all about right? The romance genre covers a lot of sins too. One of them seems to be a new and alarming trend toward the non HEA. I know want it.. If there's gonna be a sequel, I'll settle for happy for now.

Oh, and series sistahs, don't be cutting me off in an abrupt spot either .. you heifers know who yall are.. I still love yall, but seriously, I'm gonna start stalkin me some authors and soon if'n I don't get me some satisfaction. (MaryJanice? yes YOU! Katie? YOU TOO!)

Back to the HEA hullaballooh.. Apparently, people are buying some books, reading them, getting into the good smutty bits, then getting to the end and going.. WHAT THE HEYALL?


Are we going to be reduced to putting Tipper Gore type stickers on books..

Warning: Reader Advisory!! This book may contain a non-satisfactory ending. You might get pissed off. Read at your own risk!

Or in a more positive light..

This book contains a Happy Ending: Birds Sing, Bells Ring, The Whistles Blow and The World Keeps on Turning.

I'm not sure if either one of these is right. I don't actually want to know if it all comes out right in the end. I just want to have a strong belief that it will. I know that most do have a HEA, and the journey between Point A(the beginning) to B (the end) is 99.9% of the fun. However, I'd like to know that Point B isn't going to make me throw the book outside, pour lighter fluid on it, light it up and sacrifice it to the goddess of pissed-off hormonal women. (Oh yeah, she exists and she looks a LOT like me) I'm pretty sure my hubby would like to know this ahead of time too, in case he needs to gather up the garden hose, protective fire gear and yes, the camera.

I love PWP as much as the next perv, but don't label it as romance. Label it as what it is.. good
old fashioned.. SMUUUUUTTT *grins* Loves it I do.. my precious..


Warning:
This Label Means Nothing
this author is not an expert
she just likes to read alot
she likes happy ever after..
and she'd best see some for Betsy and StinkLAIR.. SOON!
Oh and she'd like her Ainsling/Drake and ooh yes Jim fix too, if atall possible. (puppy eyes)


Jenna Leigh

Newsletter Out

The JennZone
Contents
Latte Limelight
Coffee Thoughts
A Reader's Point of View
Sneak Peak at What I'm Working On
Contest

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See you there!

Synopsis, Edits and Queries, Oh My!

Such is the life of an author. You write, write, write. You type THE END, and you think you're done. Oh no, I'm sorry.. that's the fun part. The icky stuff is just beginning.

Oh, why is that picture of Hugh there? Why the heck not would be the question. Tomorrow is Monday, live a little!

I'm actually ok with edits. You go back and re-read the stuff you did and find out that hey, you did alright. You find the silly mistakes and pick out the dangling participles, fiddle with clauses and ignore MS Word when it says that you've mispelled something. I don't really care if ain't is a word or not, my character is from the South, I'm using it, get over it! Same thing with goin', or gotta. Deal!

The query letter, I can also get over doing, after a few cookies or some major choco-therapy. It's like writing a blurb in the middle of a short business type resume letter. Not too bad on those.

However, the dread synopsis, sucksnotsis, or whatever you wish to call these spawns of Satan that were put upon the earth to torment me are a different story entirely. I hate them, I despise them and I will NEVER like them as long as I live so help me NORA! Some write them before they do their stories. Some plot out their stories. I don't do this.. I've tried and I can't.. it does something to switch off the creative process in my brain, makes writing like homework and we all know how I felt about school.

I did well in school, but hated every single minute they forced me to stay. I felt trapped in that regimented, plodding little classroom. Even the desks confined me. I bumped my knees on the tops, or banged my ankles on the legs. Forced to sit wait on the other children while they asked questions over and over and over.. just give me the test so I can leave! *sighs*

I went to a technical college after I quit 'real' college *grins* and I was never so happy to hear the following phrase. "We work at our own pace here." I finished three different courses of study in 8 short months. They handed me my certificates and just sort of stared at me like I was an alien, or even worse.. a yankee *gasps* LOL!!

So, my goal this week is to do the dread synopsis..

Live Long and Prosper,

Jenna

Lola is almost done!

Remy (Inspired by the image on the left oooh) and Lola have been sort of a fast and yes, HOT bit of fun for me. What Happens in Vegas sort of flowed out.. so Whoohoo! I love them! Funny, hot and yes, soo very sweet. Short of some edits, we're done!!!!
Thanks, Write 50 Books, yall helped me soo soo much!

As for this story? JMorgan made me do it! For real! Like a vulture looming over me. Nothing like a deadline and a new writing loop to make you get busy! I've had a little help with this one and I hope it's as good as I think it is!

Cross your fingers that my writing stream helps to get all my other stuff out and to my editor. Dateless sat on the back burning glaring at me. And Gabby has been wacking me with her little rattle. I know,I've been peeved too, honey! Now onto her after some edits and other things and, I'll be keeping my fingers crossed on that too!!

Here's to Humpday and I hope you're all having a great week!!

Her Name was Lola!!
Ooh I'm not gonna singit!

Jenna Leigh
La la la la la
Aaaaaaaack!

Latte` Limelight~~Jenna Leigh

Coffee's not just for drinking anymore. I'm in the spotlight and while it shines on me, I'm also sharing a little about myself, including one of my embarrassing moments. A moment my hubby still teases me about. (you can click on the banner for my Limelight page, I got skills now.. ffth!)
If you'd like to see read my coffee blog you can go here
Start here

And for my embarrassments and other stuff go here

Coffee Thoughts with Jenna

Feel free to comment and yes, tease me about it. I don't care. But like someone once said, tease an author and end up in her next book. Who said that? Oh, I dunno maybe her name was.. Lori, Nee, Meme, Karen, Kitta, Livvy or.. well, you just never know.

I'm a big believer in taking inspiration from every day life. It gives your book a touch of realism that it can lack otherwise. I don't mean to just write your autobiography, because if you're like me, you're boring!

Heck, that's why I write, to have a life, at least in 12pt Times New Roman font. I can kill, maim, and have lots of hot.. er, well, anyhoo. Also, I'm not in danger like my heroine who's dangling 20ft above a raging river by her fingertips, or having my heart broken by a total cad. Or being shot out of a cannon, or .. well, you get the picture. Writers have a wonderful passport into the lives of their characters.

You can have a little peek into mine if you'd like. But hey, don't expect the life and times of Jenna Leigh to be all that exciting and wild. I'm just a woman that lives in a tiny little town with her hubby, teenaged daughter and demented cat, who by the way, just accidentally got hair remover on him by brushing up against my daughter's legs.

Oh crap, I'm the owner of half a Mr. Bigglesworth. *sighs* Did I say boring? I meant INSANE!!

Come on back here Mr. Bean! You'd best be glad we live in the South or you'd be freezing your butt off by now! Oh dear, he's wet and mad now. You realize he's just turned into the EFO (Evil Feline Overlord) I'll be hearin' about this for the next decade. No amount of kitty treats, and begging will make it up to him.

I only hope he knows I am not to blame. I don't want to wake up without parts I need to function in polite society. *blinks and looks under the desk* Ok, I have to go now. I've been informed by the feline lord and master that all privileges have forthwith been removed until further notice.

See yall later,


Jenna Leigh


Wait a damn minute since when do I let a cat dictate to me? I'll stay on here as long as I wa...

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to your keyboard

What do you do when your muse says..

That isn't right you know. You need to change it to something else. Here.. just let me do it, honey. Go on shoo, go and do the dishes or something. *cracking of Muse knuckles*

When you come back, your WIP resembles nothing like you left it as. My story started out as a paranormal romantic comedy involving a woman that was a Pantherwere but didn't know it until she met up with another one who sort of woke her up to the truth. But then, it all shifted into this zany, goofy, and if you must know, much better story of a woman who just wants to be something a little less boring. Be careful what you wish for Lola, honey, you just may get more than you bargained for. Dammit, don't you hate it when the muse is right? She gets all smug with me and sniggers in my head.

It makes me want to smack her. I know she's stealing my chocolate too, you know. That heifer has been in my emergency rations snacking late at night, typing on my keyboard and leaving trails of aluminum foil wrappers beneath my chair. The cat loves it too. He bats them back and forth across the floor with the abandon of a cat half his age. The twit. She's winning him over to her side. Very soon, she'll learn to open the cat food cans and he'll no longer need me at all. I'll be assassinated in the night, you just wait!!

Back to my story, if it is still mine. These things have a way of getting away from me, and growing into something all on their own.

Lola is out on the town with her two insane friends, twins, Mia and Tia, who've dared her to do something out of her ordinary. She's agreed and now she's netted a total stud named Remy Fontenot, who's in town for his first vacation in five years. Remy's sure Lola is up to something, but as long as he gets in on the action, he could care less. However, Lola's mother has skeletons she wants to stay in the closet and when she makes a fateful phone call, her past comes back not to haunt her, but Lola in the form of a very eccentric family that she didn't even know she had. A midnight ride in a Concord later and it's culture shock for a woman who firmly believed that What happens in Vegas....

Well, you know the rest.

Ok, so you don't but if I told you, that would so spoil the end, right?

Love ya, happy Labor Day

Muah or is it muahahaha?

Jenna Leigh

Four Steps to Diva-dom

Lola's life is so boring her friends decide to help her liven it up with a 4-step program guaranteed to make her a brand new woman. She never counted on meeting Remy. What happens in Vegas, doesn't always stay there.


4 Steps to becoming a Diva..

1. Drink at least three diva type drinks.
She never drank; it always caused her to babble about the most inane things. She'd tell her underwear size by the end of the night.

2. Make sure to only buy the first of those.
How in the hell did you make someone buy you a drink? That smacked of begging.

3. Ask the hottest guy you see to dance.
Oh. My. God! Maybe she could buy a really strong drink at first. Liquid courage was the term she had in mind. She could be a drunken diva.

The last thing on the list to become an absolute complete diva was something she doubted she'd do and really, how would these two idiots know? As an only child, she'd developed a wicked imagination. As an adult woman, she'd bought a lot of dirty and deliciously smutty books to keep her imagination alive. That meant she had lots of material to steal, because number four was the one that they thought the most important of all.

4. Take the hotty home and ride him like a trick pony, Ms.Diva!
Lola felt someone staring at her and looked up. A pair of bright green eyes met hers and she felt a bolt of heat slide down her spine and straight into the stupid thong she'd been forced to wear with this silly excuse for a dress. Did she say oh my God already?

Meowhahahhahahah!

Laughter is the Best .. Inspiration

Many more years ago than I'd care to admit, I picked this book up. It's gone through many changes, at least the cover has, and though I have a first edition copy, I chose the newer picture as I like pink. The Raider by Jude Deveraux was a book that did something that no romance had done for me before. It made me laugh.

Ms. Jude's beloved Montgomery family was coming to America, but you are led to believe it will die out with the insipid, foppish Alexander Montgomery, who minced his way through the scenery much to Jessica Taggert's disgust. These two trade barbs with such obvious relish that you know in your heart something must come of it, but what? How can she love this overblown, overpadded, lace-loving twit of a man? Especially when The Raider is swinging his way through the town in his big black mask and *sighs* tight black leather pants. I mean really, what girl doesn't love a hot bad boy?

The Raider is The Scarlett Pimpernell meets Zorro meets Batman meets.. The Boston Tea Party and I laughed so hard I almost passed out. I was 16 and left to wonder why in the heck no other authors made me laugh as well as love in the romance novels quite so much. Ms. Deveraux did it so well, so much and so often, that she will be one of my favorites of all time. Now, if she'd only do historicals again.

I may not write historicals, but I still read every one I can get my hands on in the hopes that there will be another to fill her shoes. So far some have come close, but no body beats The Raider or outdoes the Deveraux, at least to me. Her Montogomery's are at the top of the list, followed by the Malory's, the Bridgertons, and the Sherbrookes.

She's the reason I write romance and she's also one of the reasons I write romantic comedy. Smiling is good for you, I feel that laughter burns calories.

Laugh, love, read

Jenna Leigh

Happy Sunday!

This is a Bubba Keg. It contains what could be called, Rocket fuel for this insane redneck author. I use it to motor my way on the my little psycho path, puttering along, avoiding the potholes of plot pitfalls as I write my lastest zany and hopefully funny story called Everybody Wants to Be a Cat.

Yesterday was tiring, and yet, fun! Thanks Romance Junkies!! Authors promo, that's a fact of the business, cause, it ain't gone sell itself. I don't care how good it is, that little book will sit on the shelf and collect dust, not money. You can write the best book and nobody will buy it if you don't sell it. I love both my stories but hey, if nobody knows about them, then they aren't gonna be read. And why am I writing if not to entertain the masses? I write to please myself, but I also write to please my friends. I'd like to think of my so called *gulps* fans as friends too. I don't really think I have fans, though. LOL

I'm not Nora or LKH or even.. *sucks air* Sheri.. I'm her biggest fan. Anyways, I like people, a lot, and I like to write a real woman even if she's with a vamp or a were and even if she's a witch or a psychic, she has real feelings. The hero does too, they feel, and love and hate and want to pull their hair out. But, they also smile and laugh and smart off alot. A whole lot. I like witty, characters that talk a lot of smack. And if you play that character off one that's so uptight he or she creaks when they walk, all the better. Contrast is key.

In the first of my wolf series, I have Lainie and Marcus. Both of them are young and pretty hip. They're equal in their relationship mentally. However, he's a were, not that she's aware of it at first. They go at it in and out of the bedroom. Verbal sparring is one of the best parts of their relationship. I hope to see them in print one day, either ebook or on the shelf, I don't care! The wolves are howling to be heard and I'm feeling a bit ansty myself.

Romance is great, but you have to spice it up with some snappy banter, and if the girl's a little meaner and the boy's a wiseass too, ah well, that's called reality, and if it bites? So what? I like a bite now and then. *grins*

I hope you have a good one, happy reading, happy writing, stay cool if you can..

Jenna Leigh

I just had a weird thought

If you put the heroine of my story with the title of my novella .. do you know what you'd have?

Erin go Braless? Roflmao.

Oh, just just up! I'm doing something technical here, people, at least I was trying to be entertaining. I know it wasn't funny, Glamazon, you don't have to get the ruler out.

You must submit

No, this isn't that type of blog. Well, not tonight anyway. *grins* I was talking with a fellow author and said if we don't submit our work, we won't get offered anything. After a brief silence, she said in a voice loaded with a brand of hostility that says I am so right. "Shut up."
Oh, she wasn't really mad, just angry at herself and me for not doing it.

We made a pact then and there to motivate (read bitch at) each other to write on something for submissions each and every day. All it takes is..

Courage.. (hence the little Cowardly Lion picture)

We're both in the same boat. We can't let go of our babies, let them fly free of the nests and say they're ready to be books as opposed to works in progress. They're so cute when you start them out, then they go through that awkward middle saggy phase before you get to the end and have to polish them. I suppose that could be called the all imporatant, first molting or er..edit.


The creative process is often a violent one, much like birth and death all wrapped up together. In fact, depending on your subject, you can write all that into one book along with the requisite sex drugs and rock n roll of course. You can never have too much of the last three in my opinion, though, I always see Billy Idol when I think of them. In the midnight hour, she cried more more more. What was she crying for more of, sex drugs or music with rocks in to quote Terry Pratchett. While I'm sure Billy's inspired many a woman to do some bad bad things, who will inspire me to send my work into someone who'll do something with it? A writer needs readers to be an author, in my book anyways.

Paranormal Romance with a twist of humor seems to be what I'm good at, and I love it. So far, I've got quite a few finished, one submitted to an agent (yes I said submitted) another turned into my publisher. (she probably hates it..*sniffles*) And a few more I may have ready to go out as well.

If I only had..

Courage..

I follow my own road, that well traveled psychopath. The journey is paved with the misadventures of my zany and well-established ability to twist and turn a phrase into madness without much effort at all.

Go with your strengths, and my gene pool, unlike what most people think of us southerners, (yes you, back in the corner, I see you smirking) is varied. My family tree, while twisted, does fork, in many unexpected directions too. I wish there was a synopsis writing savant hanging around on it somewhere but nooo, all I have are.. *blinks* Never mind, about them we don't talk about the next of kin.

I'll write the sucksnopsis all by myself.

Courage.. *shudders*

So, here I am, Jenn the Cowardly Redneck, who wishes she were over the rainbow with the Scarecrow and the Tinman. Although being told to follow the Psychopath by Meme the Goodwitch of the South, just doesn't really make me feel all that damn comforted to tell you the truth. I think she's going to follow me in her Baba-Mobile followed by Glamazon in her Highheel Hotwheel just to make me freak out and hit a paranoid pothole so they can laugh when I fall and Kitta puts theose bloody wetas on me. Then all will listen to me scream like a little boy. (You heard me right so don't bother to reread that last sentence.)

The road to submission is filled with good sentences, paragraphs and chapters. Hell, it's even got a prologue and epilogue. What it don't got is a synopsis. I hate them and personally think they were invented by either the Nazi's or Satan himself to torment me. I shall overcome, however, and triumph over the evil of the dreaded and hated torment that lies within. All I need is


Courage..

Jenn
The Cowardly Redneck

Or... Am I? This instead!!



Meowhahahahahahah!!

Blondes have more fun, right? Oh be quiet!

This is me, or a comic book rendition drawn by the hubby. He feels that this is a true to life representation of what I can become if you deprive me of the things that I feel are necessary in life.

1. Caffeine
2. Nicotine
3. Chocolate
4. Internet
5. My NATURAL HAIRCOLOR!

Ok, so I decided to highlight my hair. Yes, I know I'm a brunette that leans toward a dark almost black tone. So, what? I am turning gray, and decided why fight it, go with the flow and turn it to my favor, and highlight it. *snorts*

Therefore, I let my insane evil teen queen loose upon my head with what amounts to a labotomy tool. I'm not joking. This was a small metal knitting needle with a sharp end that she took supreme satisfaction in using to extract vengeance for each and every slight perpetrated upon her by myself either real or imagined.

It went a little something like this.. Picture me with one of them plastic caps on my head, which only fit right if you are a Conehead.. pah!

Mozilla:*Poke*.. hehhaahaha
Me: OW!
Mozilla: *Poke*..hehahahahah..
Me: OW THAT IS MY DAMNED EAR YOU LITTLE COW!
Mozilla: hehehehhhah oh hush. *Poke*
Me: OMG OMG YOU EVIL CHILD! Stop!!!


And hubby would come and check on us before running away again. He went to sleep before it was finished. She walked into the bedroom and he blearily looked up and automatically said. "Honey, your hair looks great." She then informed me that he was very well trained. I informed her that I'd worked hard on that and she should be damn proud. She said she was.

Thus, I am now a blonde, albeit a brassy one. *growls* A blonde.. ME!! I am not blonde material. She's a blonde, you know. In that, Brittany Spear-ish/Jessica Simpson-ish/Jessica Alba-ish way.. I'm not insulting her, she's a beautiful girl, my daughter. Her skin is a clear golden bronze, her eyes are the darkest brown and ..well, I hate her! So, she decides the get her revenge by turning me into this.. this.. BLONDE PERSON!! AAAAAAACK!

Now, I must make my way post haste to the Helmouth to buy something to fix it.. Two trips in two days, this is the best revenge she could ever devise.. I can hear her doin a bwhaahaha laugh.. She's good, very good, *sniffles* I'm so proud.

Jennzilla the Temporary Blonde
Proud Mother of the Mozilla

A Stud by any other name is still a stud right? Um, no..

So you choose a name for your hero or heroine you're set and you think that all's right in your creative world, the story is going along well and you get to the sticking point. And yes, girls and boys, I do mean STICK- ing.. *grins* and suddenly you think about something.

What would you do after yelling out the name Groucho? (this is an example I'm not naming my menfolk that, jeez! But a funny way thing happened on the way to the.. grrr!) Would you moan, groan, (not in a good way) laugh, snort milk up your nose- not that you have milk around but you get my drift- or just go meh, and leave the room to get a candy bar? Names are important, and apparently people are tired of the same old same old. But on the other hand, they don't want the cutsey spellings of the tried and true.

Matthew and Mark are old standards, but like blue jeans and shoes, the more you wear em, the better they feel . You could go the Beatles route, John, Paul, George or for the more exotic, Ringo. I always wondered where the heck his name came from, did he have laundry problems in the collar region? Or you could go far out man, and do Star, Moon, Garth, Free, Prince, Rafe (gag), Baz or the old tried and true, Satan. (yes, well, he's the one you don't take home to mother)

Names... are hard! I despise them. Ask any of my friends. I can pick either the girl or the boy's name right off the bat. Right now, I have a story called Vicky and that damned man. Meme picks on me about it. She's so mean to me.. *sighs* LOL

What's in a name? Power, that's what. The power to pull a person's attention to you, their eyes, their hearing, their very soul sometimes, with that one word that your mother and father stuck you with at birth. Unless you were brave and changed it.

So.. a rose by any other name may smell just as sweet but my hero's will always be bad boys with sort of normal sounding names, more than likely either shortened to a nickname as will the heroine's. It's my way. I'm a redneck after all, we're the champions of nicknames, because it takes us so damn long to say something that we take shortcuts where we can. BTW.. tomorrow is Friday.. woohoo!!


See yall later,
We are many, we are legion
We are.. yeah, it's a nickname, but it's still pretty potent..
Jenns!!!

Something strange is afoot at the Circle J

Happy Hump Day and it's all down hill from here. We're gonna slide down that slippery slope to Friday. Yes, that's right, I've begun to bandy the F-word around on my blog a few days early. Why? Because this is my blog and I can if I wanna. I figure if Friday hears itself being talked about maybe it'll run over and see what I'm saying, that way, maybe, just maybe, I'll get to the weekend a little faster. I'm not going to hold my breath on that, because blue is not one of my good colors. I'm more of a purple type of person, if you must know.

So, what's happening in my life? Not much unless you count the little twits stealing gas out of my car at night. That's right, I'm onto them. And I'll be watching, tonight and every other night. You never know when myself or the Mozilla will tap them on the shoulder with what they HOPE is an nonlethal weapon and say "This aint the damn Quickie Mart!!"... In fact, just now, I went outside and hollared at the top of my lungs..

THE COPS ARE COMING TO LOCK YOU UP! BWAHAHHAHAHA!

Yes, it did make me feel all happy inside. Tomorrow, I'll have spotlights, cameras and perhaps a supersoaker which I've had sitting in the fridge. Mozilla and Jennzilla are on the case. We've deputized Bear (a pom) and Kitty (a chow mix) and they will bite anything that moves, unfortunately, this includes us as well. *sighs* K-9's, they aint. In the case of poor tiny Bear, he's not even a K-2, he's so little, but he more than makes up for it in attitude LOL. Kitty, while large, is too soft and sweet, but she will follow Bear's lead in all things and he's mean as all get out, my ankle will attest to this.

Oh, the life of a redneck girl.
Jenna Leigh
aka Barney Fife

PS: Mozilla wants it known that she is doing this under protest as she is quite sure a bug will get in her hair and some junk. Like, mother, Gawd!!!! I want it known that I will not have those long legs wasted, she will be running.. She's the young cop in this equation, I'm the loud mean one. Art imitates life.. ffthththh

At Last My Day Has Come Along

My long wait is over
The weekend is like a song...

Etta James sang it differently, but I mean it just as much.

Friday is here, finally!

I say this word a lot on this day, to keep me from uttering that other famous f-word and getting fired from my icky day job. The one that keeps me in undies, chocy and internet, all of which I need, not necessarily in that order. I can do without undies. Who'd know besides my insane hubby? And he is nutters, his addiction to Star Wars, Barry Manilow, Shark Week and Raisin Cain's, not to mention myself, proves this beyond all shadow of a doubt.

Oh yeah, I put myself in there with his quirky little things he can't get enough of, surely you don't think I don't know my own faults. I'm goofy, weird, bitchy, zany. I have a smart mouth, a sharp tongue (not like that, but now that you mention it, that is probably one reason he puts up with about 99% of the crap he does mmm) and basically, I'm just not always the best of people to have around. Plus, I'm not always there, whether it's emotionally or physically, or both. I go into Lala land at every opportunity, if pushed, I'll fly there at the speed of freak and glare at you from my perch in the Bitch Monkey Tree all the better to spit curses at you from a safe distance.

He knows it, and yet he stays.. why? I don't know why, hell, but I'm glad he does.. most days.

But.. he .. hovers.. thinking I'm a fragile little hothouse flower unable to care for myself. *insert big old heehawing snort here* I love him though for thinking this.. but er.. yeah ..

Case in point..

I want to go to New Orleans this OCT for the KCon.. I know it is sold out, and I know I have a snowball's chance in hell of actually seeing the great SK, but you just never know, right? I do know I will get to see the Glamazon, Madame Meme, and Nee Eye Jo though, and that's good, seeing the creator of the Dark Hunters would be gravy. Plus, I'd probably keel over and choke on my spit if I did see the woman who kick started me into actually writing something that got me started writing at all!

That's right.. Sheri.. is my MUSE.... *sighs* I lurve her.

I only hope there will be room for me in Glamazon's extra room she rented for all her damned SHOES! Neener neener.. can't get me .. well, at least not til October huh?

Jenn
Every Rose has its Thorn..
Mine are tipped with razor sharp barbs loaded with poison, and if that isn't bad enough, the flower talks, and it nags nags nags.. bring it on NOLA, I'm yo huckleberry.

Word Count what does it mean?

To an author, that's sort of like when men go on trips and brag about how quick they got there. Well, for redneck men anyway.

And what is a story but a trip for the mind? Like legal LSD, its a mental trip for you take down a road. If you read one of my books, I've stated up front its a psycho-scenic journey full of zany, quirky characters that will jump out contaminate you with my own brand of weird. I'm contagious, I'm not fatal, but I am terminal.

You can't say I didn't warn you:

Dateless in the Dodge:

Sharlene Hammons didn't volunteer to play the dating game, but that's just what's happened since she moved into Peony Heights. Since then, her so-called friends have paraded a ton of beefcake past her door all in the name of love. When she, Jake and her boss, Cade Barton, go undercover to bust a dating service for its nefarious deeds, she thinks she'll get a break from the madness by pretending he's really her boyfriend. Unfortunately, Cade is a double agent working for the Neighborhood Inquisition.
*********

This excerpt could be subtitled Adventures in Babysitting:

Sharlene paced back and forth in front of the blanket, pausing every few seconds to crouch down in front of the baby. She put her hands out to touch her but Gabrielle shied away, screaming even louder.
"Damn." She stomped her foot and paced again, putting her hands over her ears for a few seconds of peace. What did she know about babies? When they were wet you changed them, when they were hungry, you fed them. When they cried, you... Sang.
"Hush, little baby, don't you cry." Sharlene warbled to her, crouching in front of her again.
For a heartbeat Gabrielle stopped crying, she sniffled.
"Mama's gonna be back by and by."
At the word mama, her delicate face crumbled and she fell on her back, her head thumping on the floor.
"Oh, no, don't do that!"
She took a deep breath and let out the most horrendous howling noise. "Daaaaaaaa!"
"Gabrielle, please." This was ridiculous. She went to pick her up but the baby jerked away from her. "Look here, missy!" She made her voice firm and got kicked in the boob for her trouble.
"Ow! Fine, if that's how you wanna play it." Sharlene simply lay down beside her so that they were eye to eye.
Gabrielle's cries stopped and this time, they didn't start again. Ah, blessed peace. Her ears were ringing from all the noise; she could sue for hearing damage.
"DA!"
"He is out on a date with your mother. Remember she's the one that carried you for nine months in her stomach, mm?" Sharlene propped her head up on her hand.
"Pfth." Spit was her answer.
"Yeck."
More spit slid down her mouth onto the blanket.
"What are you a drool factory?"
"Mmmm." Gabrielle moaned piteously. She popped one of the twenty pacifiers lying on the blanket in her mouth and chewed fiercely on it before spitting it out for another. This went on until she'd exhausted her supply. She eyed Sharlene, as if sizing her up for her next meal.
"What?"Was all she got out before the baby pounced on her. "Ack! Hey, stop that! Ew!"
Gabrielle's mouth gaped open and sucked her whole chin inside. Her tiny gums slid back and forth over her skin. "Mm. mm. Mm." She made little grunting noises as she repeated this process, while her fingers tangled themselves in Sharlene's long blonde hair, all the better to hold her in place.
"My brains are being sucked out through my chin. What are you a zombie?"
"Mmm." This was more like a growl, and she tugged her hair a little harder.
Sharlene lay flat of her back with the baby on top of her like a slightly more attractive face sucker from the movie Alien. However, there was one good thing about this new development. With her mouth full of Sharlene's chin, she couldn't very well scream.
"I am so glad you're happy."
"Gah."
"Yeah, gah to you too." Sharlene's stomach growled, as unlike Gabrielle, she wasn't eating someone’s face. "I'm starving. Do you think maybe we could stop sucking face long enough for me to order a pizza?" She pulled on the baby, got a growl, and increased suction for her trouble. "Ok, fine. But, I'm not explaining the huge hickey to your daddy. You're a little young to be coming out of the closet too. Sheesh."
The doorbell rang, and she struggled to stand, not an easy feat with a small child attached to your face. She peered through the windows on the side of the door and sighed. "Any chance of you letting go for a few minutes?" She stared into the bright blue eyes so close to her own. An extra hard suck answered her and she winced before opening the door. "Hi Cade, what can I do for you?"
****
Cade stared for a long minute before stepping inside the door. Sharlene’s blonde hair fell in long tangles around her face. Her t-shirt was shoved up, exposing the bottom of a hot pink bra. His brow rose as he took this in, as well as the short black shorts that rode low on her hips. She had a pair of legs that wouldn't quit.
Oh, he knew he shouldn't be looking, but he couldn't quite help himself, besides, she was distracted by the baby sucking her face off right now, so he may as well look while the looking was good. And, it was damn good.
"Cade!" Her voice was muffled, but he caught the pissy tone.
"Mm?"
She pulled Gabby back enough to speak clearly. A small squeal rewarded this treatment. "For the third time, do you know anything about babies?"
"Yeah."
"Then. Help. Me." The force of her glare helped to quell his libido, somewhat.
"Oh!"He snapped his head back and nodded. "Sure." He held his hands out. “"Give her to me."
"I would if I could. She’s been like this for almost an hour. I can't break the suction, believe me, I've tried." She pulled, but Gabrielle held tight.
"Let me try. C'mon, Gabby." He put his hands around her belly, his fingers inadvertently brushing against Sharlene’s breast as he did so. She jerked and her eyes shot up to his. "S-sorry."
"Touch what you want, just get her off my face. She’s killing me. I swear, I can feel a brain-slide starting and it’s heading for her mouth. I doubt that’s part of her daily diet plan."
He laughed, but she didn't join him, so he tried again, this time avoiding any areas that might keep him in a cold shower tonight. "Gabby, let go of Auntie Shar's chin." He pulled and the baby growled at him. "Hey now."
"Ow! She's pulling my hair." Sharlene went up on her toes following him and the baby. "Auntie Shar, my... Ouch!"
Cade stumbled and they both wheeled slowly toward the couch in a slow motion dance destined for what he knew would end in disaster. "Oh, hell."
"My hair!"
"Mmm!" Gabby bit down even harder, her grip tightening on Sharlene's hair.
Sharlene began to hiss, her eyes widening over the top of the baby's head.
"What is it?" He instinctively wrapped his arms around them pulling them close as they fell onto the couch. Her hips slid between his legs, something he would have enjoyed any other time. The soft swell of her breasts pushing against his chest took his breath away, or it could have been the baby's butt pressing against his windpipe.
Then Sharlene screamed, Gabby screamed and Cade wasn't ashamed to admit that he screamed too. Finally, they stopped he lay in the tangle of arms and legs and tears blinking up at the sight blood trickling down Sharlene's face. Blood? The phone rang before he could investigate further.
"Get the phone." She murmured, her voice as calm as always.

"God look at all the blood." As he picked up the phone, he swiped some off her chin and held it up for her and the baby to see. And that was when all hell broke loose.

Hope you like it.. And if them little freaky symbols are in there.. I DON'T KNOW WHY, I HATE THEM TOO.. *I think they are gremlins*

Jenna Leigh
aka
Jennzilla
Travellor of the Psychopath

Coffee Time Loop Chat

Champagne Books is having a Coffee Break!!

What? An all day loop chat.

Where? Coffee Time Romance/ Karen Find out About New Books

When? Friday July 28 Beginning 12 pm Eastern. That's 11 a.m. to us more centered individuals

So, come on over and see us, and find out about new books and all the ones coming out soon. We'll have excerpts, prizes and loads of fun. Hope to see you there.
What is Champagne Books all about?

Here is our link to browse around.
Champagne Books

Beach Baby Beach Baby Down on the Sand..

Come on over to Midnight Social and party with us!! We'll be there from 12 Noon Eastern until...

There's goin to be a treasure hunt, excerpts from Spellfire Moons as well as the Romps, Raptures and many other juicy, delightful, stories from the Midnight Showcase authors. So, you don't want to miss it! Join up on the Midnight Social loop early and have a blast. Think of it like this, you can have a beach party without the heat, the smell and the annoying sand in your bathing suit bottoms. It's a win win situation. Hope to see you there!



Click to join Midnight_Social

Hubby may be insane.. but..

He is also pretty smart, sometimes. And, yeah, he's hawt too. Yall don't think I put up with that dang thermostat crap for nothing right? Riiigght.

Hubby's Blog He poses a pretty neat question on there. What sitcom would your life or at least your work life be?

Heck, my life is nuts so, I dont' know, I guess my work place is pretty cool. There's xrays bouncing all over the dang place, too bad we can't be the X-files(wipes off David Duchovny drool) and have these scary monsters creeping out of the closet at regular intervals. *pauses* Wait a dang minute, this is me we're talking about. No, that aint happening, they don't pay me enough. Yeah, and besides, my supervisor has a gun, the episodes would only last long enough for him or the Dr's to get to their trucks and say YEEEHAW THAT'LL LOOK GREAT ON THE WALL! KA-BLAMM!! Cue Commercial break, that's all yall!

So, what? Rednecks on Parade? I'd have to make up my own dang show. Sort of like Survivor or Rockstar, but with some extra bits.. I'll have to ponder on this. But, I still wanna be Latka's girlfriend. *wiggles brows* And Glamazon is still gotta be Elaine.. But they'd better put me in that cage thing of Danny Devito's character Louie.. mmm.

Dibby Dibby Dah