Memorial Day Man Meet

Hello!

It's Memorial Day. A time where we remember our men and women in uniform who fight for our country and their loved ones. We are truly grateful for your sacrifice and service.

I've always wanted to marry a Marine. There's just something about them that makes all my girlie parts tingle.

Anyhoo, in order to celebrate my way, I present some soldier hotties!

HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!!!

Twitter: Like IM only public

Hello Readers!

As you may have noticed, I am suspiciously absent from my blog. Part of it is laziness and part of it is because I seem to spend every waking hour of the day on Twitter. (Follow me at MonicaKaye!)

I love Twitter. It's a great way to communicate and it's perfect for me because I always have random bits of shit in my mind that my mouth (or fingers) feels compelled to spit out. Twitter is quick, it's easy, and it's fun. When I write a blog, it takes WAY more of my time and thought process because I really want this blog to be entertaining. With my Tweets, if I'm funny 50% of the time, it works for me.

I also love that so many of my friends and author peeps are on Twitter. Writing is solitary and Twitter is a way to get that intstant gratification. I love watching people's conversations. Some should probably be kept private but the fact that they're available for all to see is both hilarious and odd. I mean the same thing could probably be accomplished with an IM program but where's the fun in that?

So if you're looking for more of me, your best best would be to follow me on Twitter. I'm there and it's like you're actually talking to me...but not.

And now, because I've so neglected you, here's something to make you pee your pants!

Will Arnett - Human Giant SEX TAPE from Will Arnett

OUR Mr. Romance 2010

So I asked fan favorite Mr. Romance contestant, Andrew Shaffer, to do a guest blog for Harmless Smut about his experience in the Mr. Romance mangeant. He was clearly a fan favorite. As different from the other contestant as pizza is from asparagus But he stole our hearts with his charm and wit and humor. And he's quite cute despite his lack of the six-pack abs that permeate the mangeant.

I did a happy dance as elaborate as anything on ABDC when he agreed to do a blog for me. I think he's grateful for my great connections! I did, after all, introduce him to SB Sarah. Cuz that's how I do! He was so grateful, he even sent a shirtless pic!

Sexy!

All right, all right, I know you're done reading me. You want The Man himself. Here he is... (and a funny mother fucker at that!)

“My Right Breast”

by Andrew Shaffer (www.orderofstandrew.com)

While some of the other contestants brought their own topless photos to hand out and sign for fans (and I use the term “fans” loosely here), I inadvertently left mine at home. Let this be a lesson to all budding authors out there – never go to a conference without a stack of glossy beefcake photos of yourself. As soon as I officially entered the 2010 Mr. Romance contest, a photographer was immediately assigned to me to take publicity shots.

The photographer, a former Mr. Romance contestant himself, ushered me to an empty staircase and indoor patio inside the Columbus convention center. “We’ll take the shots here,” he said, squinting into the late afternoon sunlight coming through the convention center’s tall windows. “The shadows should give you some definition.” His wife joined us as a lookout to keep our makeshift studio clear of interlopers.

The first shots that we took were of me in my suit. Close-up headshots and a few of me talking on a cellphone. Thankfully, no one had interrupted us. “Now take your shirt off,” the photographer said.

I winced. After taking one last look around for gawkers, I slipped out of my suit jacket and began unbuttoning my shirt at lightning speed. I’d never gotten undressed so quickly in my life before -- and that includes when I lost my virginity. The photographer’s wife took my clothes and looked me up and down. “You’re pretty white,” she said. Of course I am. Show me a writer with a tan, and I’ll show you a writer who doesn’t spend enough time at their keyboard.

The photographer directed me to sit at a table, which was meant to hide my love handles. I sat as upright as possible and puffed my chest out. “That sort of looks like a pec,” his wife said, pointing to my left breast. “But the other one…” She scrunched her face up. Apparently -- and this was the first time that anyone had ever pointed this out to me – my right boob is a little, well, saggy. “It’s okay,” the photographer said, picking up an orphaned newspaper from a nearby table. “Just hold this in front of it.”

He snapped the photos quickly. The session wasn’t any more invasive or painful than walking through airport security. The photographer carefully scrutinized the photos on the digital camera’s display while I waited impatiently at the table sans shirt. He finally gave me a thumbs-up. “You can get dressed,” he said.

Thank God that’s over, I thought as I buttoned my dress shirt. Little did I know that my journey had just begun. Any modesty that I had left was sandblasted away by the dance routine later that week when I ripped my shirt off onstage in front of hundreds of screaming fans.

RT PICS!!!

This is me and Mr. Romance 2009, Charles Paz. He loves a sista!

Just because...

Victoria Dahl, showing off "The Shirt!" Yes, folks, that is half-naked women riding wolves, shooting uzis, and gnawing on raw meat. Of course, being the person I am, I assumed the women were anally raping the wolves.

Oh, the Heavenly Night of Rock Band and everyone sitting enraptured as Mark Henry (not shown) reads aloud from an erotic romance. Good times!

RT WRAP 2010

No, I'm not dead...

I've just been in lazy mode. I need to get writing and editing and submitting. But in the meantime, I did find the time to party!

I love RT. It's just a really fun place to meet readers, take some workshops, and best of all, stalk your favorite authors. Like I did. With Lora Leigh. But more about that later. The best part is I got to spend some QT with my good friend, Helen Hardt.

So, I get there Tuesday night (after being at work for a half day, never doing that shit again) and the first thing I do is go to the bar. (Of course!) The hotel is packed with morticians, and Christians, and perverts, oh my! The first person I see is another friend, Liz Pelletier, who is drink off her ass with her friend, Dawn McClure, and new on my list of awesome peeps, Jessa Slade. Helen goes off and smiles and flirts with the morticians for free drinks and I'm getting drunk and touching on Mr. Romance 2009, my bud, Charles Paz. All in all, a great 1st night.

But the next day is when it all begins... After waking up (late), Helen and I go to breakfast and just happen to run into Mr. Romance, Charles (by now I'm sure he's stalking me) and we have a lovely meal. It was enlightening as hell, such as the info that Mr. Romance only had 3 contestants. 3 CONTESTANTS? What is this? Victorian England? Where are my half-naked men to fondle? To dance with? To hear say that they would 'fuck the shit' out of me? (NOTE: Not making this up, happened last year. Not to me, but to my friend. But I heard it and yeah, it was hot.)

That bummed the shit out of me, especially considering I knew one of the contestants and was not a fan. He was hot but not a nice guy. A fact that Helen can attest to.

At this point, all I can do is drown my sorrows in sex... Sex on the beach that is. It seemed to be the drink of the convention. Or at least my little part of it. Delicious vodka and cherries will put any girl in a good mood.

As for the parties? First up, the EC ball. Paint the town Red. I even bought a red dress for the occasion. One which promptly got whole in it. That shit always happens to me. On the plus side, it made a killer shirt and my sweater concealed the tear so in true ghetto fashion, I was all good. I got better when the EC cavemen but on their show. Not quite a strip show, but I'm a writer, I have a great imagination so it was no trouble at all to go from half-naked to the full monty in my imagination. There was one caveman, Kruz, who literally made my mouth water. He knew how to move his ass and the man touched himself almost as much as I wanted to touch him. Literally. The man grabbed his junk every few seconds as if he wasn't entirely sure it was going to be there. I think one of my RT buddies has a pic with me and him. I might need some alone time with it. All and all the EC party was campy fun.

Next came the fairy ball. Nothing much to say here. Most of the men had gone and I wore fairy wings. Oh, and there was dinner and dancing. The food wasn't nearly as bad as last year but it was banquet food. Take from it was you will.

The next night is the vampire ball. Heather Graham and all of her family and friends but on quite the campy show. It's part musical, part train wreck, all awesome. Shayne, Heather's son and friend from last year, made his acting debut. Let me tell you, the man was made to...dance.

The final night was the Dorchester party. Which, I didn't go to cuz I was out being wined and dined by editors! Not really but I did get the hook up from my new BFF Victoria Dahl who invited me to dinner with her, Angela James of Carina Press, Kristin Sevick and Melissa Frain, both Tor editors. It was the first time I'd left the hotel, which I found out later was a shame because there was something called the North Market that I should have given my left nut to eat at. Ah, well.

As you can imagine, I wowed the editors with my sparkling and witty conversation. Especially when I talked about Bobby Brown helping Whitney Houston out with her constipation by going on a digging expedition. Yeah, that's how I roll.

But it was by far the best night because it was the night I met Mark Henry, hung out with the amazing Jaye Wells, and was treated to dramatic erotic readings by Mark, Heather Osborn, and Stacia Kane. Abso-fucking-lutely awsome! I mean I wish someone could have videotaped that. It was all red, weeping cocks, Organs of Dominion, and mmmfgrrr! It was a night I cannot wait to experience again. I'm wondering if I can convince them to put together a skype conference call once a month. I'm going to start working on that.

Another highlight, was the Mr. Romance competition. I'm just going to give you the highlights. For a more snarky analysis, you can go to Twitter and search #mangeant. There you will find colorful commentary from myself as well as Mark Henry. (Side note: The mangeant brings people to together. It's how Mark Henry and I discovered each other. I'd been trying to catch his attention for a while cuz I follow him on Twitter and FB and think he's one funny muthafucka. That he now thinks the same about me? Priceless!)

Anyhoo, by the time the mangeant rolled around, three contestants had jumped to six. There was DeLonn, a very nice (and I imagine very hungry) young man. There was Jamie, a sweet but shy guy. He was nice looking and that's all I have to say about him. There was Franco, last year's runner up. Antonio, a stripper and one of the EC cavemen. Some other guy who's name escapes me (that should tell you something). And ANDREW. By far, the crowd favorite. He was not your typical mangeant contestant. He's a published author and all-around fun and witty guy. He's looking to write romance novels. He wants his name, as well as his face, on the cover of books. Gotta love a man who loves romance. I imagine hearts all over the place broke when they were introduced to his extremely lovely wife. Yeah, I'd like to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. "But honey, it's my JOB to flirt with all those hundreds of women!" I got to introduce in him Smart Bitch Sarah and there was a lot of mutual admiration going on. SB Sarah remembered me from last year which gave me another case of the squees. Girl crush!

Some highlights for me: meeting Lora Leigh, whom I LOVE!!! I was on the verge of stalking her until I met her Thursday night. She was more than a little tipsy and more than a little awesome. She's one of the sweetest people. I still pinch myself that I got to hang with Victoria Dahl. As some of you may remember, I wrote a review of her book, Talk Me Down. She's just as cool in person as I imagined her to be from her books and her inappropriate tweets. Plus there was meeting Jessa and Dawn, hanging out with Liz and Helen, and the sex...on the beach. Oh, and Jackie Frank looks SO GOOD. Very happy and super healthy. She practically glowed. And she gave me a copy of Stealing Kathryn. She's the shit.

There was also a bookfair. I bought too many books. Victoria Dahl dared someone to yell 'ballz' in the middle of the event. Being the kind of girl I am, I obliged. And got an ARC of her newest historical. I also betrayed my race by not buying a book and supporting another sista. With that in mind, I am announcing my entry into the Caucasian race. Gifts and money will be greatly welcome.

All in all, a great conference. I did go to some workshops. I got to be in the same room as J.R. Ward (another fucking funny as hell lady!). This was my first time as a published author and it wasn't what I expected but I'll be better prepared next time. I always say that I'm not going next year but by the end of it, I'm always looking forward to it. I love being able to talk about the books I read, love meeting the authors that write them, and maybe someday, I will have my own merry band of fans who've come to meet me and get me to sign something of theirs. (For the record, I'm not opposed to writing on tits. Just sayin'.)

That would be cool.