Friday, March 29, 2013

Bump in the Night Bloghop--Win Some BIG Prizes!

And so you've come to me, my little pretties...(cue evil music). 

What is it about the paranormal that lends itself to romance? Alpha heroes, intrigue, danger, scares? The heightened sense of awareness that not all is as it should be? 

I don't know, but I do know that I LOVE the genre. Paranormal romance. Throw in "erotic" to the mix and I'm hooked. 

I've written about shapeshifters, supersoldiers, psychics, vampires, and dragons. The rougher the cast of characters, the more fun I have making them fight, then gradually fall in love with one another. 

Take for example, Circe's Recruits: Roane, the first in a series of shapeshifting supersoldiers about characters who are anything but normal:


   Zack nodded and reached for his cell phone.
   As they merged onto the Parkway, Roane thought about the woman they’d just saved. He stared at his arms. She’d raked him with inch-long claws. But despite the low growl when she’d been threatened, he had the impression she’d wanted more to escape than to harm. Interesting qualities for a lab rat. All of the former patients from the project were psychotic, Circs with no conscience who preyed on the weak. Caitlyn was the first they’d found who seemed fairly normal. Until her untimely change. 
   Normal. He scowled, wishing he could banish the picture of her voluptuous body from his mind. Her sheer, white cotton shirt had done nothing to mask the perfection straining beneath. Instead, with her every effort to be free, the shirt had either molded to the fullness of her breasts or slid open to accent the slick valley between those bountiful mounds. God help him, but Roane had zeroed in on the heat of her hard nipples as they raked across his chest with more force than her damned claws.
   “Doc’s standing by.”
   He nodded to Zack and blatantly stared at the speedometer, causing Ace to swear under his breath and slow down. A low, sudden groan captured everyone’s attention from the back.
   “She shouldn’t be doing that, should she?” Derrick asked, shifting in his seat. “The dart should have put her down for another few hours, at least. The ones the PPA use normally do.”
Roane narrowed his gaze when he realized the rest of his men were squirming as well. He took a breath and froze as his dick swelled to a massive erection.
   “Shit, she’s in heat.”

The guys are dealing with a shapeshifter new to change. She's sexy, animalistic, and the danger and sexual tension amps tenfold because she's Circ (shapeshifter). A human waking up in the car with five dudes would be freaked out, but she wouldn't put her kidnappers on sexual alert by sending them into a mating frenzy. See? Look at all the fun those contemporary stories are missing. *grin*

So what's your favorite type of paranormal romance? Psychic? Shifter? Vampire? Etc...  Simply comment on my post, then go to the other links (listed below) and comment there to enter to win. One winner will receive all FIVE PRIZES. But you have to comment everywhere to enter to win.

PRIZES: 
From me: $15 Amazon gift certificate as well as any 2 of my backlist in ebook format, winner's choice.
Carrie Ann Ryan:  eARC of Her Warriors' Three Wishes (Dante's Circle 2), Special Swag Pack, $15 Starbucks Gift Card
Gabrielle Bisset:A signed copy of one of the Sons of Navarus series books: Blood Avenged, Blood Betrayed, Blood Spirit, or even the upcoming Blood Prophecy (which will be released in print in early May 2013), Sons of Navarus swag, and a handmade Sons book thong featuring one of the four Sons of Navarus books
Lia Davis: a copy of Winter Eve, Ashwood Falls prequel, $10 Amazon or B&N GC (winner's choice) and a swag pack
Ranae Rose: A signed paperback paranormal romance and a $10 Starbucks gift card

Good luck, and don't forget to visit these authors to enter to win...

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Two More Days Until the Bump in the Night Blog Hop...

Just two more days..

Here Be Magic Today

I'm at Here Be Magic today talking about my current diet. Come on over and share my pain, and maybe leave some encouraging words. How much weight have YOU lost?

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Love In Electric Blue--a Teaser

I am DYING to share my new cover art for Love In Electric Blue, my upcoming paranormal romantic suspense coming to Samhain in June. Alas, it's not on the coming soon page at Samhain yet, so I have to keep the gladness to myself. The minute it's up, I'm sharing. But in the meantime, here's an unedited excerpt from the book.



LOVE IN ELECTRIC BLUE
Westlake Enterprises

Remy Davis quickened her pace down one of Savannah’s seedier streets, noting the late hour on her watch as well as the thinning crowd on the sidewalk. Her hair swayed in the cold December wind as she ducked around the corner and moved in the opposite direction of her small apartment. She felt him following behind her, could feel his gaze burrowing into her back.

“Watch it, lady!” an angry voice yelled as she accidentally plowed into a large body. She murmured her apology and continued. The streetlights ended in another block, bringing her closer to a rundown section of the city she normally avoided.


As the moon slowly escaped the confines of dark gray clouds, a sliver of light illuminated the gravel before her. She glanced around, not surprised to see a few men warming their hands over a small barrel fire and a prostitute leaning in the window of an old Buick, sizing up a potential client. Remy dared a look over her shoulder and saw in horrified amazement that the man following her loomed closer.
At this distance she could now make out cold, dark eyes and a grim mouth staining an otherwise average male face. His shaggy hair flapped in the wind that now carried hard drops of rain. The menace in his stare made her shudder more than the cold soaking through her clothes. She gave up all pretense of ignoring him and ran as though her life depended upon it.

She knew this path, knew where it would lead her. Listening to the man’s harsh panting drawing nearer, she suddenly ducked to the right and ran to the fence at the end of the alleyway that should have been open. Coming to a locked gate, she considered climbing it but heard him behind her. She was out of time. Remy stopped, out of options, and turned to face her pursuer.

He slowed when he realized he had her trapped. He stopped with a good ten feet between them and drew a weapon from beneath his overcoat.

“Lizzie.” He shook his head. “There was no need to run. You know who sent me, so why not come along quietly? I don’t want to hurt you, and he only wants to see you again. It’s been over ten years.”

She glared at the man sent to take her back. Ten years? It had been exactly ten years, four months, and three days since she’d been imprisoned in that hellhole. She refused to go back. Time to get that message across, so there would be no confusion.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. But I do have something I’d like you to take back. Make sure you give it to him for me, would you?”

The man cocked his pistol, and to her dismay, it wasn’t a gun with bullets, but tranquilizers. Something to keep her alive, useful, for… him. Before he could pull the trigger, Remy pointed her finger.

A visible jolt of electricity shot from her fingertip and enveloped him in a web of eerie blue light. He stared at her in horror, another casualty in the war waged between those who would oppress and those who sought to remain free.
“Forgot to warn you about that, did he?” she asked with cold amusement, laughing bitterly at them both. Then, with a flick of her hand, she increased the power flowing through her. Her pursuer shrieked in pain before he slumped to the ground and slid into death’s embrace.
“Bravo, my dear. You’ve exceeded even my expectations.”
Her throat dried and terror balled in her stomach like a virus. That voice. God, it had been so long. But not long enough. The sound of a lock turning and the gate opening sounded overly loud in the sudden quiet. She had to face him. She knew that. But her feet refused to move, fear holding her stock still.
“It’s time to come home, Lizzie,” he said in a smooth, cultured voice. “I’ve missed you.”
Energy flared through her entire body as six hundred milliamperes of direct current shot into her. More than enough to kill a normal person, but Remy simply soaked up the flow, managing her resistance and the voltage with ease. A living, breathing conduit for electricity who could cage it without trying, she shut down into a hazy state. The way he expected her to. The way he needed her to. This way she was his to be captured and controlled once more. And the hazy disorientation swiftly turned to pain…
Coming to Samhain June 4th, 2013

Monday, March 25, 2013

Congrats! It Takes 2...

To Debby G. for winning two copies of my backlist. Way to go, Debby!

A Monday Rant--CBS Sunday Morning

So everyone's been going on an on about the interview CBS Sunday morning did with Ellora's Cave author Desiree Holt, who's been called the oldest woman writing erotic romance. Not sure if this is true, but I know the interview got a lot of reaction.

I don't know Desiree personally but I think it was great she had the chance for such exposure. The woman has written over 140 books in 6 years. She's prolific, she's great, and readers love her work. Too bad the network turned what could have been an insightful look into an often maligned genre and added to the bad hype. The phrase "mommy porn" was bandied around quite a bit, in addition to "porn." (And yes, I was gritting my teeth while I watched.)

It didn't help that the author's own children labeled her as writing porn either,while still being supportive. I have no idea what the network edited out, but I can only hope they cut the parts where her daughter didn't look so embarrassed to be on television. Unfortunately, the one small tidbit of clear explanation Desiree gave about the genre was given maybe ten seconds before they cut back to her reading excerpts of her books, which of course are R rated. Great that they could keep bleeping every other word and having the host look horrified. The part of the interview they glossed over in a hurry was the best part, in my opinon. 

Desiree was eloquent that erotic romance is NOT porn, but a love story expressed in a different way. Yet right after that great explanation, instead of letting her continue, they zoomed right back to her reading from her book, bleeping out offensive words left and right.

Sigh.

If the newpeople would have spent more time looking at the Ellora's Cave warehouse and modeling sessions, which I found fascinating, or treated Desiree as more than a grandmother who writes "porn" but as an exceptionally talented author deserving of respect, I would have been ecstatic to watch it. Instead, I felt kind of bad for the author, who did her best to project professionalism and fun with her writing. (But don't get me started on the dolls, because honestly? That just creeped me out.)

So in summation, kudos to Desiree Holt and Ellora's Cave for trying to put a good foot forward. And jeers and hisses to CBS Sunday Morning, who not only painted erotic romance as porn, but had the gall to show the segment on a Sunday morning to many watching with their children. Honestly, people, get a clue. 

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Wednesday Words--CLOSING THE DEAL

Today Derrick, one of the sexy Warren twins, stars in Wednesday Words. It's spicy stuff, so don't open this at work. *grin* Hope this excerpt from Closing the Deal gets you over the weekly hump.

The feel of her curves against him as he emptied inside her warmth kept him going. After what felt like an eternity, he came back to himself.
He hoped he hadn’t crushed her too hard. Sandwiched between his body and the door, she couldn’t have been too comfortable. But Christ, had he ever had better sex? Sex that had lasted all of five minutes?
He should have been more embarrassed, but the sleepy satisfaction in her eyes told him she had no complaints.
“Damn, Derrick. You are good, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “Good for more than that quickie.”
“Quickie?” She arched a perfect brow and slowly uncrossed her ankles from behind his back. As she did, she winced.
“You okay? I wasn’t too rough was I?” He hoped he hadn’t pounded into her too hard, but he couldn’t recall much of anything except needing to go as deep into her as he could.
“Not at all.”
He didn’t want to pull away, but he’d started to slide out, so he withdrew completely and lowered her so she could stand again. The awkwardness he might have assumed he’d feel didn’t come. He removed the condom and left to dispose of it. When he returned, dressed once more, she stood in a daze, naked, against the door.
“You are fucking beautiful.” Blunt, but effective.
She blushed. “You already had me, He-Man. No need to butter me up.”
“Hmm, butter. Not a bad idea. I’d like to oil you up and fuck you everywhere.”
Her eyes glowed. “Oh?”
“You know, when you say Oh like that, it comes across as a challenge.”
“Are you up for it?” The doubtful look she gave his crotch definitely counted as a dare.
“Honey, you should know better than to challenge a Warren.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I’m the Warren twin you need to worry about. I never lose.”
She laughed. “Cocky much?”
“Oh yeah. And I intend to get even more cocky before the day is through.” He watched her as he took off his sweatshirt and removed his shoes and socks. He unbuttoned the fly of his jeans with deliberate slowness, wanting to see her expression when she saw all of him. Would she be impressed, or would she blow him off? He wasn’t a small man. Most women loved the look of him, but Sydney wasn’t most women. There was something about her self-confidence that brought out insecurities he hadn’t even realized he possessed.
“You’re a tease,” she complained.
He smiled. “Back at ya, hot stuff.”
He pushed his jeans and underwear off, conscious that his cock had a mind of its own. The damn thing stood at half-mast again, semi-erect for the mouthwatering woman staring at him in shock—or was that awe?
“I can’t believe that thing fit inside me.”
He frowned. “I’m not that small.”
“You’re huge. Good Lord, Derrick. No wonder you have a lot of girlfriends.”
To his horror, his cheeks felt hot. Pleased and embarrassed, he felt like a goddamn girl. Yet he couldn’t be happier she approved.
“Oh my God. Derrick I’m God’s gift to women is blushing!” She laughed. To his surprise, she seemed completely oblivious to her nudity, while he couldn’t stop being aware of it.
“Cut it out. I’m a guy. We all have size issues.”
“You shouldn’t.” She stepped closer and took him in her hand.
He stirred. She stroked him and he grew harder. “Syd, you’re playing with fire.”
“Is that what you call it? Fire?” She winked at him. “I’d have thought you’d go with something more creative. Like My Monster or the One-Eyed Wonder.”
He laughed, more than amused. Who’d have thought sex could be so much fun? Being with Sydney just felt good.
“Well, One-Eyed Wonder has a nice ring. But how about something more intimate? Like Derrick Junior? That way he sounds like a real person.”
“He?” She stroked him, pumping his shaft with a small hand that felt like heaven.
“Yeah, he. He likes it when ladies kiss him. Long, slow licks are nice too.”
Sydney let him go as she stared at him. The laughter left her eyes, but not the desire. “We should probably move to the bedroom for this. Unless you brought more condoms?”
And there, no recrimination for being prepared. The woman amazed him.
“Nope. I only had one, and I was praying you’d let me use it.”
She snorted. “Praying my ass. You knew I wanted a go at you.”
“Just one?” He stepped closer and rubbed his cock along her belly. Then he leaned closer and took one of her nipples between his teeth. He nipped her, then sucked the sting out of it. “Come on, Syd. I’m good for three or four, at least.”
“Well, if you put it that way…”

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Fun Graphics


Just thought I'd share some fun graphics I've done or had done over the years. Something different for you while I pound the keyboard on my current WIP, simply titled, BRODY


  





Sunday, March 17, 2013

March Newsletter


The March newsletter is here. Check it out...

Thursday, March 14, 2013

The Late Wednesday Words: Enjoying the Show

In the spirit of Raising the Bar, Dylan's story, I thought I'd go back to the beginning with Enjoying the Show, the first book about the Warren brothers. Enjoy!


Saturday morning, sitting in his mother’s spacious kitchen, Gage stared at his brother Dylan with a scowl. Derrick, Dylan’s twin, sat with a cup of coffee halfway to his mouth before he began laughing like a loon.
 “You’re telling me to skip dinner and take Hailey back to my place for a quick fuck? This from Mr. Romance?”
Dylan shrugged. “Sorry, but you asked for my professional opinion.”
“Hell no, I didn’t. I asked for advice from my brother, not Freud’s worst nightmare of a psychiatrist.”
“I resent that.”
“You resemble that,” Derrick murmured. “I’m still not quite sure. Are you gay, straight or bi? And do thoughts of our mother make you long for the professional couch, or for the Oedipal bed?”
Gage chuckled as Dylan glared at Derrick. Good. Now they were attacking each other and leaving him alone.
“I like sex, and I love people. Why do you have to label it, Derrick? Some homophobia going on in what passes for that brain of yours?” Dylan taunted.
“Yeah, I’m homophobic,” Derrick sneered. “Get away, oooh, you’re scaring me.”
“Asshole.”
“Hey, twin schmucks, hello? Remember me? I came for some advice. And if the best you have is bag and tag her, Dylan, I guess I’ll have to listen to Derrick.”
The horror on Dylan’s face was priceless. “Okay, forget I said that. You have a thing for this woman, right?”
Suddenly uncomfortable, Gage shrugged. “I guess.”
Derrick scoffed. “You guess? You’ve been trying to summon up the guts to ask her out for over six months! And you all but stalked her, talking up her friends, her coworkers and her realtor, for God’s sake.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“I used to date Amanda, and she mentioned you’d been asking about that house on Delcourt.”
“Bullshit. I said hi to Amanda the other day, but I looked up the listing info online. You’re the one with a thing for Hailey’s friend. That’s right,” he said as Derrick frowned. “I saw you eyeing her like a piece of candy. And I didn’t want to say anything then, but you had one hell of a boner while staring her way.”
Dylan smirked, and Derrick shoved at Gage’s chair with his foot, making him almost fall over. “So, you two are in quite a tangle, eh? Gage wants the blonde, and you the redhead. But at least Gage knows his heart’s desire.”
“‘Heart’s desire?’ Who the hell talks like that?” Gage shook his head.
“Men who get lucky, that’s who. Instead of acting like a coarse laborer who doesn’t know his left from his right—”
“Which he is,” Derrick muttered.
“—act with some couth and compliment the woman, and on more than her tits and ass.”
“Dylan Jacob Warren, what did you just say?” Barbara Warren entered her kitchen with a stunned look on her face.
Dylan grew bright red. “Oh, hi, Mom. We were just waiting here to meet you for breakfast. And I was, ah, giving Gage some advice.”
She eyed the three of them like the troublemakers they were. “Well, Gage, at least you didn’t ask Derrick for advice. He’s the king of uncommitted.”
“Hey.” Derrick looked wounded for all of three seconds, and then he grinned. “Want me to do the eggs?”
“Oh, just sit over there with your brothers. You can pour me a cup of coffee though.”
Gage settled onto a stool as he and his brothers watched their mother cook. It had become a tradition for them to gather once a week, usually Saturdays when possible, in their parents’ home for a meal. Personally, Gage loved the idea. He had a decent, home-cooked meal and saw his mother, with his brothers as buffers. They all loved her, but when she turned on the shrink within, she could grate on even a saint’s nerves after mere minutes.
“So what is it you wanted help with, Gage?” she asked.
His brothers shook their heads behind her back, but Gage figured, what the hell? Barbara Warren was a woman, last he checked. “I’m meeting a woman for dinner tonight and I—”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. What’s her name? What does she do? How did you meet her?”
Gage groaned. “I just wanted to make a good impression.”
“And why wouldn’t you? You look exactly like your father did at your age, God bless him.”
“Yeah, and he has as much charm as Dad did, too,” Dylan added.
“Oh, good point.” His mother scrambled a dozen eggs and scooped them onto four plates. “Keep your mouth shut and listen to her.”
“That’s not bad, Mom,” Derrick piped up. “I thought for sure you’d delve into his psyche for reasons behind his commitment phobia. Or maybe prescribe him a set of pills to take his foot out of his mouth so he can talk to the woman without sounding like an ass.”
Dylan snickered, as did Derrick. But their mother ignored them.
“What you need to do is find out what she likes and dislikes. Men always like to talk about themselves, and frankly it gets annoying. But ask her what she likes, what makes her happy, and she’ll respect you for it. And don’t, do not, pressure the girl for sex on the first date.”
Gage flushed. He hated when his mother brought S-E-X into the conversation. God forbid he tell her he’d been showcasing his dick for the women across the quad, teasing the woman he’d been dreaming of banging for the last six months.
“Mother, now you’ve embarrassed the boy.” Dylan shook his head, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his Nautica pants, his dress shirt perfectly pressed and tucked into his slacks as if he were a mannequin at Macy’s. A regular clothes horse.
Gage stared down at his ragged jeans and T-shirt, then glanced at Derrick’s shorts and tank top and had to grin. “Shut up, Mr. Nautica. Damn, Dylan. Don’t you own any clothes that don’t have a name of their own? And quit picking on me. At least I’m trying. Why don’t you tell Mom about your last boyfriend? Talk about commitment issues.” 
Dylan stammered when his mother suddenly turned on him, and Gage shared a smile with Derrick.
Younger than the twins by four years, Gage had always looked up to his brothers as larger than life. Both handsome and athletic, intelligent and witty, the Warren twins had, to this point, walked a charmed life. Gage, on the other hand, had plenty of rough edges, like his father before him, but, for some unknown reason, never had a problem attracting women. Now keeping them, that was another matter.
He didn’t like flattery, playing games, or catering to a woman’s every whim. His parents had loved one another until the day Andrew Warren died, and his mother still carried a torch for the old man. Now if Gage found someone he could love as well, maybe he’d act differently. But the women he’d dated in his thirty-two years had been pretty, but so superficial. Most of them had wanted him for sex, of course, and to either meet the twins or get their greedy hands on his money. And the ones who hadn’t, frankly, had bored him within days. What the hell did that say about his taste?
Grinning at Dylan still trying to finagle a way out of his mother’s haranguing, he caught his brother’s dark look promising retribution.
Bring it on, he mouthed, scoring a direct hit when Dylan flushed and clenched his fists.
Oh, yeah, Gage had definitely saved himself grief at his mother’s hands. Funny that his mother and brother shared a love for mental health, while he and Derrick had followed in his dad’s footsteps. They’d worked with their father at Warren Construction Company right out of college, and when their father had passed, they’d made WCC into a very decent living. Picking and choosing their jobs, he and Derrick worked hard and long, by choice, not necessity. While Derrick preferred the administrative tasks, Gage liked working with his hands.
He supposed he fit the crude construction worker mold, but his looks, and his money, seemed to make him an acceptable catch for any woman wanting the better things in life. For that reason, he’d kept his last name from Hailey a secret. Not like she wouldn’t find out soon enough, but he wanted to figure her out before she turned those wiles on him.
Despite her aloof demeanor, he didn’t believe a woman who looked like she did could be so naïve. Like the rest of her sex, if she knew his vulnerabilities—how hot she made him by just being near him—she’d grab him by the balls and never let go. And lord help him, he was just weak enough to enjoy being helpless in her clutches.
“So where’s this date of yours going to be?” his mother asked, interrupting his erotic thoughts.
“Kincaid’s.”
“Good choice. Romantic but not too fancy. And the food’s wonderful. Don’t order for her, and don’t grimace if she orders something expensive.”
“Everything there’s expensive,” he muttered.
“I know. And like the good boy I raised, you’ll no doubt be paying for the meal since you asked her out.”
“Actually, he blackmailed her into going out with him,” Dylan said with a sly grin.
Derrick, bless him, came to the rescue. “Yeah, right. She took one look at Gage and said yes faster than she could think no. Women love the kid, Dylan. Don’t be jealous. You’re just as cute.”
Dylan muttered under his breath but their mother laughed. “I do love you three. But I’d love four or five even better. A daughter-in-law, a grandchild…”
Gage and his brothers paled.
“So, Derrick, why don’t you tell me who you’ve been seeing lately? I don’t remember the last time you brought a girl home with you.”
Gage and Dylan shared a glance.
“Gosh, Mom,” Gage said quickly. “Sorry, but I have things to do before my big date tonight. And Dylan promised to help me with some errands.”
Derrick shot them a panicked look, but they left as speedily as they could.
“Okay,” Dylan said as he unlocked his Mercedes. “Pulling me out of there makes us even, but if you ever sic Mom on me like that again, I’ll sucker punch you, hard.”
“Fair enough.” Gage grinned. “Did you see the sheer panic on Derrick’s face? Awesome.”
Dylan smiled. “Good one. And good luck tonight. If she means as much to you as I think she does, don’t blow it. Your best bet? Take Mom’s advice. Ask her to talk. Don’t stare at her breasts the entire night. And think before you speak, jackass.”
Words to live by.

Monday, March 11, 2013

Funny Story

Okay. It's definitely a Monday. I started out my day waking up late. Rushed the kids through showers and breakfast, kicked them out of the house and watched them run to school. Then I hustled to shower and dress before rushing to join my second grader. I help out with the kids on Mondays. Today there was a substitute. Bummer, because I absolutely love my kid's teacher. But okay. It's a great school, and I've worked with the subs before.

The sub was new to me and seemed nice. She was telling the kids about their writing assignment--my specialty. I help them with grammar or spelling or guidance on how to think up ideas of what to write. So as the sub is handing me papers to give to them, she's guiding them on their assignment. Now these kids do this same weekly write-up every Monday. They write a note to someone at home who can write back. And they're learning how to write conversationally. Great stuff.


So jokingly, I said to the little buggers as I was handing out papers, "Yeah, you can write about how your brother didn't annoy you this past weekend. Or how you sister did a great job of not flushing a rubber duck down the toilet." Simple joke, right? Half of these kids are 7 going on 14. Funny and smart, and they know it's all in fun.

The substitute, however, looked at me as if I'd just offered to skin and sacrifice her first born. "We don't want to write anything negative," she said with a forced happy smile. "Just fun things. Positive ideas, kids. Write a thank to your mom or dad. Something nice."

"I was just teasing," I tried to defend myself. But the odd look she gave me told me there would be funny stories about the crazy parent helping during writing time. The woman watched me carefully for the next half hour I was there. Though I did my best to not shoot her an Are you friggin' kidding me? look, I think she might have seen it. So I did my uber best to think positive, continued to tease and help the kids, and quieted them down a few times with promises of good kid tickets. 

I cut my time short and said goodbye after helping the kiddos with their work. And you know, they did a good job writing to their families. A new iPad app, excitement about an upcoming trip, the girl who loves huskies wants another dog... To my delight, one girl wrote to her mother about how some other student was on her nerves. Another counseled his older brother not to be crazy in class, so as not to get in more trouble. Classic. The kids were being creative and funny. And not in a Dick and Jane are happy and good all the time kind of way.

I guess I don't see the problem of what kids write so long as they're writing. Sure, you get concerned if it's violent content or graphic depictions of something horrific. But snarky or teasing? Go for it. I had to laugh on the way home, because I'm a bit too old to put in the corner. But I swear, had that sub been able to, I might have spent my time writing 100 times on a white board about being positive. Yeah, I'm positive being good and nice is no fun.