This blog is for those 18 and older.

Friday, August 30, 2013

My Island LIfe: Vacation Destination

My adventures living on a Caribbean island. Welcome to my monthly, or not so monthly adventures. We try not to commit too soon here on island.

Impression #10
Living on this island, I forget that people might like to come visit it on their vacation. Thankfully, an old friend from grammar school (yes, you read that right) reminded me of that fact.  Sometimes I can really miss the obvious.

Getting to St. Croix is not that difficult. The best part is that you don’t need a passport. Nope. We are a US Territory. Please tell everyone. We have had everyone from businesses to TSA not realize we are part of the US . All you need is your license, and you only go through customs when you leave the island.

The major airline that comes here is American Airlines. They fly direct from Miami. It is a 2 and half hour flight from there. When you arrive you will have to deplane down outside steps, so don’t bring too much carry-on and don’t wear heels. This is flip-flop land anyway :-) Other carriers will fly into San Juan and then you can take Seaborne Airlines to St. Croix (STX). I prefer Seaborne to other carriers from San Juan because they can handle your checked luggage. 

If you are looking for a place to stay, we have everything from upscale resorts to huts in the rainforest. The resort featured on The Bachelor was The Buccaneer. Another nice one on the north shore (okay, so we know the owner) is The Palms at Pelican Cove. On the west side is Sandcastle on the Beach which is more of a boutique hotel. The Carambola Resort has its own golf course (as does the Buccaneer), and Hotel on the Cay in Christiansted harbor is on its own island and just a short boat ride to the quaint boardwalk. There are others as well.

Of course we have beautiful beaches if a week on the beach is more your style, but for those who like to “do things,” there is a lot to do here. Everything from a sunset cruise on a tall ship, to a visit to Whim Plantation, to hanging out with the Beer Drinking Pigs in the Rainforest, to diving one of the deepest walls in the Caribbean. My favorite website for visiting St Croix is  It has a lot of information including a web cam in Christiansted harbor so you can see what kind of day it is here at any time. St. Croix Tourism also has a good site  In addition, I have a whole sheet of websites depending on what you’d like to do while you are here. If you are interested, let me know and I will email it to you. But here’s a taste:

Cruzan Rum factory    
Botanical Gardens
Bioluminescence Kayak Night Tour
N2 the Blue Diving Adventures

Tourism is actually welcomed on island because unlike St. Thomas, we don’t get that many cruise ships and since the island is so big, almost 28 miles long with its fair share of mountains, we never feel inundated by visitors. You will always get a friendly smile and a “Good Afternoon.”

Lesson #10
Can’t forget to share information on visiting St. Croix. People want to come visit this beautiful island!

Stay Warm,

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

August Wrap-Up

August was a busy month! And it’s still not over. Lots of good things happened though. First, I finished writing my latest historical romance….a Civil War piece set in Natchez, Mississippi, that I’ve been working on for a long time and started the first story in a historical western trilogy while I’m having the other one beta read.
I went to the RNC conference in Vegas this month too. Had a great time hanging out with Kayce Lassiter and Lexi Post among many other friends (and people who were soon to become friends). It was lovely. Learned a lot, too, which is always wonderful. Ate way too much and….oh wait, isn’t it supposed to be “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas”? That being the case, I shouldn’t tell you anymore.

THEN….Kayce released her fabulous contemporary cowgirl fiction, Katie’s Rock. I’m so pleased for her. Here’s my review of her wonderful story.
“Ms. Lassiter has outdone herself in giving us Katie’s Rock. I truly enjoyed this story. With a cast of unforgettable characters, humor and heartbreak abound and the ending is uniquely satisfying. I admit to shedding a tear or two, but I laughed as well.
Katie is torn between the McAllister brothers – Jake and David. Both are knock your socks off gorgeous, both put Katie through her paces, but all is not paradise. Jake, too, is torn--between loving Katie and doing what’s best for his children.
Sometimes, the hardest decisions are the right ones.  Fortunately, Katie chooses wisely and ends up with the best brother. I look forward to more enjoyable contemporary cowgirl fiction from Ms. Lassiter.”
THEN….Lexi released her second novel, Passion’s Poison, a story based on Hawthorne’s Rappaccini’s Daughter. It, too, was fabulous and here’s my review of that….
            “Lexi Post has done it again. After the success of Masque, Post has released Passion’s Poison and found the perfect recipe for creating hot exciting stories. Did I say hot? I meant scorching.
            Lexi Post takes a story from classic literature—in this case, Hawthorne’s Rappaccini’s Daughter, a tale about a mad scientist who actually makes his daughter poisonous--adds a 20th century descendent of the original Beatrice Rappaccini, who’s name just happens to be Bea as well then adds one incredibly hot logger turned chainsaw artist. She adds heaping dollops of some incredible sex (and I do mean incredible!) and the following ingredients: a former boyfriend who’s still in love with Bea, six fathers who want to protect her, a mother who is still living the hippie lifestyle, a cop who wants her for his own and a series of threatening letters. Now, blend in the part that gives Passion’s Poison its unique flavor - Bea must have sex in a series of one night stands to release her poison so she doesn’t die, making her partners ill in the process.
            Stir until messy. Very messy and voila! Passion’s Poison is the perfect soufflĂ© of mystery, angst, and great sex, all wrapped up in a deeply satisfying Happily Ever After ribbon. Well done, Ms. Post!”
Of course, in between everything else, I’m reading, reading, reading!
Let’s see, what else? I’m in high research mode. A lot of people don’t like the research involved in writing historical romances, but what can I say? I love it! I’m always on the hunt for that little nugget of historical fact that puts me in the right frame of mind.

And that’s about all for August. Let’s see what September will bring!

As always, happy reading,

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Shiver by Karen Robards

Oh my, I have a Sunday post!  I’m not interviewing an author, but I do have the latest release from Karen Robards of which I have a signed copy.  At the infamous RWA (Romance Writers of America) Nationals, Karen joined Karen Rose and Sharon Sala in a panel devoted to romantic suspense, so I couldn’t help but read one of their books first…

 Shiver by Karen Robards

Shiver by Karen Robards - Reviews, Description & more - ISBN ...

Karen Robard’s newest novel introduces her readers to a determined Samantha Jones who will do anything to assure the safety of her 4-year-old son.  It gets a little difficult when she finds a hard-to-tell-he's quite beat up- handsome stranger shot and locked in the trunk of the Beamer she’s supposed to repo. 

Sam has an unusual job for a young woman, but as a tow-truck driver, she’s making a living.  This all might change when her night of work in East St. Louis turns into a do-or-die as she shoots two men sneaking up on her as she inspects Danny lying in the trunk of the car.

From then on, Danny has to protect himself and Sam and her son from the rest of the drug lords.  And he can’t tell Sam he’s an undercover agent, not just a scoundrel dealing with the drug scene.

Sam is upset with herself as her attraction to Danny creates an unwanted need from a man with such an insidious background.

Danny doesn’t want Sam involved, but what can he do at this point?

Robards shows you what he can do as Sam and Danny collectively outmaneuver their followers to remain alive.

It’s an exciting novel to read as the tension constantly shifts and all the “bad guys” aren’t named until the end.


Happy reading,

Friday, August 23, 2013

Internet Dating Is Not For Sissies!

Okay, I was cruising the internet the other night looking for ideas—anything that might plant a seed of thought for this week’s blog.  Because…I know, shocker…I’m again stumped for anything to write about.  Being stumped is sort of a hobby of mine.  LOL  It’s what I do best, so I do it often.

So my first thought was to write about internet dating again…but this time from the men’s perspective.  I’ve had a number of folks email me to suggest I should do that…so I went out searching for the male equivalent of the internet dating horror stories that I came up with a while back on the women’s side of the ledger.

And what did I find?  Well, either women are more picky (be nice!) or more creative (calm down, men), or men just have lower expectations (I hate to think it!).  Now, don’t get me wrong…I found some good stories out there, I really did…and I will tell you what I found.  But the overwhelming number of internet dating horror stories are told by women.  Could it be that men are just that out of touch with what women want (or in some cases, just out of touch with freaking reality)?  Or perhaps men just don’t want to admit to their horrific encounters?  Is there some secret “guy code” that says you show weakness if you admit you’ve been duped by a bad date?  Personally, I find it very hard to believe there are not as many horrific tales about women as there are about men…because, let’s face it, some women can be a freak show.  We’ve all seen them.

Okay, so here are a couple of the stories I found from the men.

·       The woman who fails to mention she has a beard – a full beard.  Yeah, this one isn’t pretty.  Honey, get a razor, get a wax, get a sex change…something, anything!  But do NOT go out in public with one foot in each camp.  Make a clear choice!  If a beard works for you, go with it—but lose the boobs and the makeup.  Eyeliner does not go with a beard…they clash!!!

·       She is so paranoid that the first date can’t even be a coffee date—it’s an online date but with food at both ends.  HUH?  Okay, this one had me scratching my head.  Apparently this woman was so freaked out over the risk of meeting someone new (even in public) that she insisted the first date be a Skype date.  They could both bring their brown bag lunches and they could break bread together, over the internet.  No touching, no kissing, no risk………………..and no freaking FUN!  This one just makes me ashamed for womankind.  Cowgirl up!  Grab your purse, grab your car keys, grab your mace, and grab your spurs (okay, maybe not for the first date).  But for the love of God, step out from behind the keyboard and live a little.  Meet the guy, look him in the eye, touch his hand and see if your skin crawls or you get butterflies.  Live life.  Don’t let it zoom by you like you’re high-centered on the median!

·       The date that stuffs a finger up her nose and pops a bugger in her mouth.  I don’t even know what to say to this one.  The curious thing is that this was a dinner date.  Maybe he should have asked her where she wanted to go for dinner.  Perhaps she was starving and didn’t like Chinese?  Okay, you’re right…I can’t make this one work…no way, no how.  As long as she has fingers, this will be a train wreck.  Run, Mister!

·       The date that keeps checking her reflection in her dinner spoon.  Some girls need to learn how to keep a compact in their purse.  Checking your reflection in the spoon is bad form…and it makes your eyes look buggy and your nose crooked.  Does NOTHING for your self-image.  Refrain!  If you have to use a utensil, go with the knife…nice and straight and makes you look tall and skinny.  What?  This is my story…you get your own.

·       The girl who shows up 150 pounds heavier than her profile picture.  (Just so you know, this was overwhelmingly the number one complaint from men.  Overwhelmingly!)  Okay, so this one needs a bit of an interpreter.  First off, she was probably only 120 pounds heavier…you know how men like to exaggerate.  Second, she was probably a very nice girl…you know how shallow men can be.  (LOL…no hate mail, please…that was a joke.)  But all that said, I get that there wasn’t a “click” for this guy…not everyone is a “match”.  Be honest right up front and the guy who answers your ad will be a guy who’s interested in the real you, who you are TODAY.  And if you show up and you look like your profile pic, there won’t be any need for him to whip out your profile picture and yell “that is the woman I was expecting.  Did you eat her?”  Now, that’s ugly!  Avoid the scene, use a real picture.

·       The woman whose picture shows her standing next to Jimmy Hendrix, wearing bell bottoms and flashing a peace sign.  Ladies, while this might seem cute, it is NOT going to get you the results you want.  Do NOT put out a picture from the 60’s unless you want a tall, skinny man with an afro and round pink glasses, pork chop sideburns, bell bottoms, platform shoes, named Zeus, who smokes grass from sunup to sundown.  I don’t care that it was when you looked your best.  He’s not going to date the woman you were back then; he wants to know the woman you are today.  Put out a current picture and expect the same from him.  Then if you don’t mesh, there’s no shame on either side.  So what if you’re not as svelte and hot as you were in 1969?  Neither is he!  You’re looking for a “match”, not the guy who thinks he’s a 10 settling for a 3.  Besides, it’s more fun to be the pretty one!

·       The date who orders an expensive lunch she won’t eat because she’s sure it’s been contaminated.  Really?  This one is just plain weird.  She’s either defective or she’s got some “inside” information that the rest of us are not privy to.  Either way, I say take a pass.  Defective is a lot of work and inside information is sometimes best not known.  I’m betting if you checked her closet, you’d find a collection of tin foil hats.

·       If her profile photo has clearly been cropped to eliminate the guy whose arm is still around her shoulders and she’s still wearing her wedding band……hmmm.  Everyone at WalMart has a cell phone camera but she doesn’t own one?  She couldn’t hand hers to a stranger and ask them to snap a new pic?  Something sans the old boyfriend or ex-husband?  Either this one is lying, too dysfunctional to operate a camera, or still damaged from just getting off the roller coaster.  I say take a pass…nothing good will come of this.  Same applies for the girls out there.  Don’t make excuses for why his pic still has a wedding ring in it.  If he’s too dysfunctional to take a new picture, he’s still carrying a brick phone, driving a twenty year old beater that smokes to high heaven, using an old Commodore 64 for a computer (he’s logging into your profile from the library), and he lives in the country where he leaves his sliding door open so the dogs and burro can come inside to get out of the heat.  Run!

Now, with all that said, I ran across some fabulous new “honorable mentions” on the woman’s side of the ledger that I cannot leave alone.  I’m going to have to mention them simply because they are freaking mind-boggling.

First honorable mention is the guy who managed to impress the girl enough that he actually got her into bed with him.  She wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of running water, only to look across the room and see her new “hottie” in the corner of the room (apparently sleep walking), peeing all over her stuff.  WTF!  The walk of shame is bad enough, but if you have to do it with pee-stained stuff in your hand or without your stuff because you’re not stupid enough to pick it up after that, it’s a REAL long and miserable walk!

Second honorable mention goes to the gal who meets a guy for drinks and dinner, only to have him resort to baby-talk and trying to cut her meat for her after a few martinis.  She freaks and goes to the bathroom, where the waitress intercepts her after witnessing the dude place a pacifier on her plate as a little “gift” for when she returns.  There is a special place in Heaven for waitresses who will sneak you out through the kitchen!

And last, but not least, a huge honorable mention goes out to the guy who is a dedicated cat lover.  He meets the girl of his dreams and, again, gets lucky enough to get her into an intimate situation on the couch.  But his performance seems to be hindered.  By what, you might ask?  Well, by the…er…location.  So Lucky Guy convinces Girl-O-His-Dreams to move into the bedroom where they can be more comfy and he can rise to maximum performance standards.  So they relocate to the bedroom, which seems to be Cat Condo Central.  Kitties all assume their positions at the top of the cat condos to watch and voile, Lucky Guy is suddenly a rock star.  Eeeew!  Thank God this woman ran!  If she’d stayed around to the finale, I might have had to throw up on my new purple boots!

So there are two morals to this story.  First, it is NEVER too late to run.  If things get dicey, don’t stick around to see how many bodies they pull out of the wreckage…run like the freaking wind!  Second, always carry a $100 bill in your purse if you are internet dating.  You never know when you might need it for bribes, cab fare, new clothes, or a tip for a Heaven-sent waitress.

That’s my story, mind-boggling and mind-numbing, and I’m stickin’ to it.  Hang on tight now ‘cuz we’re gonna go real, real fast!

Love ya,


Wednesday, August 21, 2013

PASSION’S POISON Released and a Giveaway!

Today is a monumental day for me. Today is the day I join the ranks of the “multi-published” authors. I can’t explain how amazing it feels to have my second book come out.  I remember when I first decided to write erotic romance inspired by the classics. My first thought was, will those authors that I have known and loved roll over in their graves?  Was I somehow making fun of their literary prowess? To be honest, I wasn’t sure.

Now, I am sure that I'm not poking fun, but rather honoring them by providing a new story, birthed from their phenomenal work. No, mine will not be studied in the college classroom, maybe the college dorm ;-) but not in the classroom. However, I do hope mine will be enjoyed by many on Kindles, Nooks, and other ereaders, inventions these classic writers never even envisioned. So I’m proud that I can take the focus of great classic literature and create a new story from it, one that ends happily, not sadly like so much of great literature does.

Do you know who else is proud? My mom. Yup, she is.  She tells everyone about me and my books. After Masque came out, another author said that she guessed I had written a book my mom wouldn’t read. When I told my mom that, she said, “You tell her that it was a red, hot love affair that produced you!” Go Mom!

So I hope that those who enjoyed my first venture into the hotness that is erotic romance will enjoy Passion’s Poison as well. It was birthed from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s story “Rappaccini’s Daughter” and has as its heroine a descendent of that original character. Both Hawthorne’s, and my, Beatrice Rappaccini are poisonous. The difference is that mine, in order to stay alive, must release her poisons through sexual intercourse with men, who then become very ill. This makes Bea’s life quite complicated when she falls for Zach Woodman, a former logger turned chainsaw artist. Of course, Bea’s 6 fathers, hippie mother and outspoken grandmother already made her life interesting, but now she has this hot hunk she likes, a cop who wants her, an old high school boyfriend still in love with her, and a person writing anonymous letters telling her to stay away from Zach. But I promise, she does get her happily ever after, it just takes a bit of doing :-}

To celebrate this release, I will be giving away an ecopy of Passion’s Poison to one lucky commenter.  Comment on whatever you wish. I’m always thrilled to hear from readers.

Here’s a little preview of Passion’s Poison. I hope you enjoy :-)

Always, Lexi

Chapter One

Zach Woodman was too local to be her lover.

Beatrice Rappaccini reminded herself of that fact as she drank in the sight of the shirtless man using a chainsaw in the forest clearing. The stark muscles in his arms and back danced with the movements of the machine as he angled it through a massive log standing on its end. His jeans stretched against straining thigh muscles braced in a slightly bent position, his construction boots encased in mud.

Bea tried to breathe, but the heat infusing her flesh overwhelmed her. What was happening? She had released her body poisons less than two nights ago down in the city, but this desire making her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings felt different. This couldn’t be good.

She gulped in air, desperate to control her breathing even as her high-heeled boots sank deep into the mud of the forest floor.

Zach moved to the side of the log and carved out a deep groove. Bea watched his pectorals tense under the layer of dirt covering his chest as he held the machine steady.

Mesmerized, she tried to take a deep breath but her lungs constricted, refusing to allow in the cool forest air. Her head spun as darkness encroached on her peripheral vision. Oh damn. She pulled her feet from the muck and sat down hard on a stump nearby. Dropping her head between her knees, she closed her eyes and focused her attention on inhaling.

As oxygen flowed into her lungs, the clearing grew quiet and unease replaced her near panic. She opened her eyes to find two boots standing in front of her. Silently, she wished she could crawl under the granite rock lying between those feet.

Since that wasn’t an option, she lifted her head. Zach’s sweat-streaked six-pack abs came into view above the edge of his blue jeans. Her stomach clenched. It tightened even more as his muscled chest, complete with wood shavings caught among the short, dark hairs, seized her attention. She took another calming breath, ignoring the growing warmth between her legs, thankful she remained seated.

Her gaze reached his angular face, where she found he had taken off his goggles. His green eyes, filled with curiosity, stared at her. His mouth quirked. “Are you okay?”

She shivered as his baritone voice slid through her like an otter through water, leaving ripples of weakness suffusing her body. She swallowed a groan. Mentally, she reached for the hospitality professional she’d trained to be. “Yes, I just need a moment.” The breathy answer was anything but professional.

His scrutiny didn’t leave her face. “Can I get you something? A bottle of water? A beer?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

His grin pulled the corners of his dark lips, moving the stubble of his unshaven face to form black arcs around the sides of his mouth. He turned and strode toward the log cabin she’d come upon at the end of the dirt driveway, his confident swagger demanding her attention.

She wrenched her gaze from his tight ass to give her body a chance to cool. She was here on business and her libido had to behave. Her body’s attraction to this man didn’t make sense. She had released her debilitating sexual toxins in a one-night stand on Saturday and had reached orgasm three times. It was only Monday. She should have a whole week of relief. Somehow, she had to gain control of herself.

By the time Zach returned with water and a beer, she hoped she appeared normal. He silently held out both. She accepted the water bottle while he opened the Bud Light and took a couple gulps. She stared as his Adam’s apple bobbed along the corded muscles of his neck. Desperate to dampen the heat in her body, she raised her drink and sipped.

He gestured toward her with the half-empty beer. “Feeling better?”

She swallowed the cool water and cleared her throat. “Yes, thank you. I’m not sure what happened. I probably should’ve had breakfast this morning.”

He looked at the sky before returning his attention to her. “Breakfast? It has to be about lunchtime.”

She tried a slight smile but feared it came across more as a grimace, so she offered her hand. “I’m Beatrice Rappaccini from the Lakeside Inn in Meriden.”

He grasped her hand in a strong grip, causing fire to shoot through her arm, across her body and straight to the juncture of her thighs. She almost squeaked in surprise.

“I’m Zach Woodman, but I imagine you already figured that out. What can I do for you, Ms. Rappaccini?”

Oh, the possibilities were endless. She looked at the zipper of his jeans and wished it open. He could strip and push his hard cock into her hungry body and make her come until she screamed. She’d never screamed before, but she had a feeling she could with him.

“Ms. Rappaccini?”

She started and pulled her gaze from his crotch. Had she seen a bulge growing there or was it her imagination? What was happening to her? “Please, call me Bea.” Oh that sounded way too husky. She really needed to get a hold of herself.

She stood, wavering a bit in her heels. He grasped her arm and steadied her, getting wood shavings on the sleeve of her green dress, but she didn’t think he noticed. Did he notice anything about her, such as the fact her body reacted to him like wildfire to wind? With the constant smirk on his face, it was hard to know.

She tried to find a semblance of composure as she removed her arm from his grip. “I’m here to commission a carving for one of the Larsens’ inns, specifically, the Lakeside. The Larsens would like something unique.”

He took another swig of beer, but his gaze never left her. “Hmm, something unique, as in abstract, or just different from my other carvings?”

Bea shook her head. “Definitely not abstract. The Larsens prefer rustic to fit in with the environment. I wandered through your shop,” she pointed back toward the log cabin with the sign “Zach’s” burned into it, “but nothing there is quite right.”

He wiped his forehead with the beer bottle as he contemplated, staring at her with his brows drawn together in concentration.

Did he think about the carving or her? She blushed. Since when couldn’t she read a man? Her very survival depended on her ability to find men who were attracted to her. So why was he different? And why was she so affected?

He drained his beer and smirked. “I think this will take some time and I need to wash up. Would you mind staying for lunch while we work on it? You could use some food and I need a break.”

She shrugged. “Sure, I’d be happy to.” She’d be happy to do whatever he wished, take off her clothes, sit on that log, let him—ugh. She had to stop this.

He turned away from her. “Great. This way.”

Passion’s Poison is available in electronic formats:

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