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February 17, 2008

Help Out A Really Great Site

Go to my left sidebar, and click on the new graphic for Doingfine.org. It's new. I've been posting over there, and it's a great little site. They're looking for readers and posters. It's a site about the good things in life, and it's great to find something like that on the web, as opposed to the usual Emo bitching about life.

Head on over and give your support!

Posted on February 17, 2008 at 02:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Excerpt - The Party Crasher

I'm getting some attention to my erotic fiction, so I thought I'd post an excerpt to one of my erotic short stories. This excerpt is from "The Party Crasher", which was published in three parts by Scarlet Magazine in 2007. I expect to have more short stories in Scarlet this year, but at the moment I'm concentrating on subbing to other publications. This story is paranormal erotic comedic romance. Olivia is having a party, and one of her guests invited a medium to come along and hold a seance. Olivia doesn't believe for a second that Madame Persephone will contact anyone, but she figures the seance could be good, cheesy fun. What she doesn't expect is that the medium does contact someone, and he has his eye on luscious Olivia.

So, enjoy the excerpt!

Three-Part Serial
Appeared in Scarlet Magazine in 2007
Genre: Paranormal Comedic Romance
Type: F/M
Heat Rating: Screeching Hot

A ripple flowed up her spine. She was a little excited about this silliness after all. While she didn't believe for a second that Madame Persephone would contact any spirits, deep down she had hoped she would.

"I call to you, oh restless spirits that may occupy this house. Speak to us," Madame Persephone said. She trembled, and lowered her head to her chest. She moaned. It was quite a good show. The woman knew her stuff.

"Meeeeeeeeoooowwwww!!!!!" Madame Persephone's eyes bugged open.

"Oh, now, Mr. Fuzzyboy, you behave yourself." She looked at Olivia. "My apologies. That was my spirit guide, Mr. Fuzzyboy, making an ass of himself. He likes to show up at my séances just to get noisy. He demands a lot of attention, and wants to talk through me. He probably wants a treat."

Olivia realized that Mr. Fuzzyboy sounded a lot like Fred, who was just as demanding and wanted treats for his performances as well.

Madame Persephone closed her eyes, and continued speaking. "Mr. Fuzzyboy, now is not the time. We can play later." She giggled. "Yes, I'll get your catnip toy when I get home."

She rocked back and forth in her chair, and hummed in a low voice. Glenda, one of Olivia's coworkers, giggled. Olivia heard someone kick Glenda under the table.

Madame Persephone bolted upright in her chair, and stared at Olivia.

"My dear, there is someone here who wants to speak to you."

Olivia stared back. "Me? Who?"

"It's a man – definitely a man, but he won't tell me his name. He's asking… what, sir?" She jerked in her seat as if offended. "I most certainly will not ask her that, sir, not in mixed company."

What on earth could this be about, Olivia wondered.

"How rude! Seriously, sir, do you take me for a fool?"

"What does he want to ask me?" Olivia asked.

"I can't repeat what he said. It's… crude."

"This sounds like fun," Jeremy said. Olivia pinched his hand.

"Say it anyway. I'm curious." Olivia insisted.

Madame Persephone squirmed in her seat.

"He wants to know if he can stick his finger in your bellybutton and tickle you."

Everyone laughed.

Olivia could do nothing but sit there with her mouth hanging open.

A flush rose from her chest and warmed her face. She thanked God that in the candlelight, no one could see her blushing.

"You are ticklish in your belly button, Olivia."

"Shut up, Fred." Olivia said. To Madame Persephone, she said, "Please tell him I said ‘no.'"

"That's what I thought you'd say." Madame Persephone was silent for a few seconds.

"Sir, if she won't let you stick your finger in her belly button, I seriously doubt she would let you do that."

I don't want to know, thought Olivia.

Her heart jumped in her chest. She glanced at Jeremy, who fought off laughter by biting his lower lip. Olivia felt mortified.

Who the heck is that woman talking to?

She suspected to whom Madame Persephone was talking. Her skin perked up in gooseflesh. The air around her felt cold. She felt as if someone – a very annoying and playful someone – stood directly behind her.

She refused to turn her head, afraid of seeing a man she knew had been dead and buried for six years.

She felt a gust of wind by her ear, like the faintest breath. Strong fingers massaged her scalp. She jumped at the familiar touch. She looked around the room. No one else saw him, or if they did, they gave no indication of seeing him. When she smelled the smoke from a clove cigarette that she knew no one at the table or in the room was smoking, her entire body tightened like a spring, knowing who stood behind her, tempting her and teasing her with his presence.

She felt a hot, moist kiss at the nape of her neck.

"Stop that…" Olivia said.

"Stop what?" Jeremy said.

"Nothing… never mind…" Olivia said.

"Whatever…" Jeremy said.

She felt the ghost of a finger draw a line from in front of her ear down the left side of her neck. She swallowed, hard. She refused to move. She refused to break the circle. More than anything, she refused to turn her head to see the man she knew stood behind her, tempting her with his every touch.

"He's quite taken with you, my dear," Madame Persephone said.

"He's describing all sorts of… things he wants to do to you."

"Like what?" Olivia's mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton, it was so dry. Phantom hands massaged the tight muscles on her shoulders, and then moved down the front of her blouse. She froze in place, knowing where those hands were going.

"I can't…" Madame Persephone said.

"My curiosity is killing me. Please tell me." Olivia said. Her voice caught in her throat. Did anyone else notice how aroused she was becoming? She looked around the table. Everyone stared at her, but no one was the wiser. Madame Persephone definitely called someone from The Great Beyond, and no one in the room had a clue.

"Well… he says he wants to drive you crazy by licking your earlobes. He wants to lick you somewhere else, too, but I'm too polite to say where."

"Is this a spirit or an obscene phone call?" Jeremy laughed.

Olivia pinched his hand again.

People all over the room snickered. As if on queue, she felt a warm mouth suck on her earlobe. Gerald used to lick her earlobes. He licked her in lots of places on her body, including some places she had no idea were so sensitive to the touch. She tried to swallow but her mouth felt parched. The strong hands found her breasts, and massaged them, one after the other. Olivia bit her tongue to suppress a moan. Damn, he never forgot what to do with his hands to drive her crazy. He took her hard nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and gave them a pinch.

"Oh, God…" Olivia moaned.

"What?" Jeremy asked.

"Nothing…" Olivia's response was breathless.

"He also wants to … to use his words… "drive you to the edge and leave you lying there, begging for more."

That was definitely Gerald's style. He drove her crazy when he was alive. Now he appeared to be trying to drive her crazy from the grave. He certainly had succeeded in embarrassing her. And arousing her.

The phantom mouth nibbled on her ear. Olivia froze, waiting for the next move.

She felt one hand leave her right breast, and travel down her stomach to her pants. She knew where those fingers were going. In a room full of people, yet! She knew he had a penchant for exhibitionism, but she thought he would have tempered himself after death. Not a chance, obviously.

Strong hands massaged her crotch through her pants. She spread her legs apart to make room for his fingers. She leaned back, and enjoyed herself. Those fingers found her clit in no time, and pressed against it in tiny, hard circles.

Olivia eased her breath in and out of her mouth, hoping that no one at the table would see that she was sexually aroused.

"Olivia, are you alright?" Fred asked. "You're sweating."

You're damned right I'm sweating. I’m getting masturbated by a ghost, Olivia though.

"I'm fine, Fred. Just a little hot. Did he say anything else, Madame Persephone? What else would he like to do to me?"

"He says he would like to … oh, dear, I can't repeat that, sir!"

Madame Persephone squirmed in her seat. All eyes were on her, which relieved Olivia since that meant no one was watching as she approached an intense orgasm. Those fingers pressed and massaged her clit until she left of puddle on the chair. She tried to remain as still and as quiet as possible, which was next to impossible. She spread her legs farther apart, and held her breath as those talented fingers did their work.

"Ooooohhh…" Olivia moaned.

"What?… Are you sure you're okay?" Jeremy asked. He was getting too curious.

"I couldn’t be better," Olivia said with a smile.

She didn't want to come yet, but if those fingers kept doing their magic, she'd have The Queen Of All Orgasms in front of a crowd waiting for a ghost. She decided that it was time to stop before she came all over her plush velvet armchair.

Posted on February 17, 2008 at 12:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

February 15, 2008


I added a graphic for the new web site "doingfine.org" on the left sidebar. Are you doing fine in your professional and personal life? Want to talk about how you got there? Want to be a positive influence on others? Then check out "doingfine.org". It looks like a great web site to me.

Posted on February 15, 2008 at 01:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

February 01, 2008

Dean Tong Makes The Pig Page

The Pig Page is an infamous web site featuring ugly commentary and photos of major fathers' and men's rights activists. Dean Tong has just been added. Make sure you check out all the guys (and one woman) on The Pig Page. There are three pages worth. They'll give you the hives.

Posted on February 1, 2008 at 12:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

FoxNews On Dean Tong - He's No Expert

Finally, someone questions Dean Tong's status as "expert". And it's on FoxNews, no less! Tong is no expert on domestic violence, "false" allegations, or anything else for that matter.

What Exactly Qualifies Someone as an Expert?
Friday, February 01, 2008
By Greg Gutfeld

People often come up to me and ask me the same questions over and over again: "Is that a scar?" and "How come you don't have experts on 'Red Eye'?" The answers: It's actually a birthmark and experts are phonies.

The easiest way to pawn yourself off as an expert? Tell people you're an expert. Then go on a talk show. Sex experts, steroid experts, latte experts — they're all shams.

On Thursday, an expert on domestic violence whose previous appearances include "Dr. Phil" and "Nancy Grace" was been arrested for... domestic violence. Dean Tong was picked up after his wife called the cops over an argument that turned physical. This wasn't his first arrest — he'd also been busted in 2001 for domestic violence. So maybe that does make him an expert, after all.

I bring up this story to illustrate a simple truth: With 500 TV channels and countless talking heads needed to fill time, no one really checks. I have, after all, pawned myself off on a number of shows as a relationship expert. If you only knew how my exes feel about that! Thankfully, they can't talk because they're goats, yaks and that one Komodo dragon. Although to be fair, he was quite articulate.

And if you disagree with me, then you're a probably a racist and worse than Hitler.

Greg Gutfeld hosts "Red Eye with Greg Gutfeld" weekdays at 2 a.m. ET. Send your comments

Posted on February 1, 2008 at 12:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)