Tattle & Wrye - June 2010

FROM THE DESK OF

DONA PENZA TATTLE, ESQ. AND ASSOCIATE WRYE BALDERDASH

Wrye is startled by the flying wedding bouquet aimed at him as Tattle, dressed in bridesmaid Pepto-Bismol pink, says, "Catch. June, perfect day for a wedding...perfect month to celebrate Champagne Books romances."

Nabbing the flowers from the air as if it's a football, he sneezes as if allergic to daisies. "The wedding is today? But we have a Love of Literature Leap schedule."

"Don't forget the rings, m'best man," she advices before adding. "Always time for a good leap."

"So true," he agrees. After fetching a timer, he takes Tattle's arm and off they go into a new and sizzling romance.

"Oh, how lovely," Tattle says, indicating the country backdrop for the contemporary romance STONE HOUSE FARM by Rhobin L. Courtright. "What a shame that Amanda Blanchard might lose it all, the last of her inheritance, especially since she wants to raise her daughter, Kari, on the centennial family farm."

Wrye, who had landed a little too close to horse dung, takes a hopping step backward. "She is hoping she won't have to sell her father's prize Morgan horses to forestall the tax man. Having a good job helps, but it's not enough."

"Enter stage hunka-hunka, Wade Preston, her high school sweetheart and land developer. He wants her land, threatens foreclosure. She's determined to keep what is hers, and is willing to part with the foal of her pregnant mare to ensure the taxes will be paid. Sparks fly and although both would deny it openly, those embers are all about passions denied."

Tattle does a Mae West impersonation, eyeballs rolling, hips woo-wooing and hair fluffing. "Me thinks all they need is a little alone time."

"Me thinks they are going to get that and mucho more!" Wrye proclaims as he dives into a new chapter.

"Think Wade shot! Snow storm knocking out electricity and phone! Think dire trouble."

Tattle joins her literary bud and scans pages. "Oh no! The storm has isolated them. Will she save Wade's life? Will the shooter be back? Is her daughter safe?”

"Ding...ding...ding.... Time's up. Leap!" They do!

Next stop on the romance celebration finds the duet in a contemporary suspense, THE SOLDIER'S GIRL by Romona Hilliger.

Tattle accidently on purposes loses her bridesmaid's hat, a throwback to wide brims and southern belles that has no business in this story set in Northern Australia. She nods taking in the plot, "Lookie...lookie, three school friends’ lives collide in a triangle of desperation, guilt, love, manipulation, and maybe...hopefully... hanky-panky?"

Wrye does a tsk-tsk with his finger and places the picture hat back on top of Tattle's Dolly Parton like hair-do. "Naughty lady," he scolds.

"Oooh, how does one resist that smoldering, sexy eye-candy, Bryce, a man who gave up a world of love and substance to work with underprivileged indigenous children. Talk about a hero."

Wrye practices the bunny-hop and dances his way through words. "A hero without love, so sad, for he had even given up the woman of his heart, Kate." He offers a salute, heels clicking. "True sacrifice."

"Then there is Frank, the war hero, he wants Kate, he can't have Kate, so he schemes for Kate. With his mind twisted by war and his heart aching, he does whatever it takes to make her his own. Conflict...conflict... conflict!"

"And just who does Kate want?"

"Bryce...but, ah, Frank can be persistent. It is all enough to snap those bonds formed as children." Tattle looks beseechingly at Wrye. "I must know what happens."

"Too late! Time for another romantic literary date."

"We're not in Kansas 2010 anymore," announces Wrye as they find themselves in the historical romance, FLOWER OF PASSION by Rose Lerma.

"Indeed we are not," confirms Tattle, and then begins to giggle. "Oh my, this book looks like fun." She points to Aster Hampton, looking gorgeous and confident but only for a few sentences. She collides right into Adam McCallister and seemingly a predestined date with a mud puddle.

"Poor dear, this isn't the way Aster wanted her debut home to be. She had every intention of allowing her new poise to overcome her nickname, Aster Disaster. Then this lout had to walk into her path."

"For a lout, he's a hottie even covered in mud. Yummy!" Tattle winces as Aster pops him in the eye with her fist. "Hmmm, he's taken that well. Hmmm, hmmm, he is actually intrigued. Goody for him."

"He is also a man on a mission to find a wife, one that he's attracted to, one that he is compatible with, and one he doesn't love."

"What! No love, is the man insane?"

"Thinks love turns a man gutless," says Wrye as he checks his pocket, to make certain he has not lost the wedding rings, and then flips through the pages. "Ah, this is truly a fun book that yanks at sentimentality, inflames senses, brings out the flaws and endearments of not just love but of family."

Noting Wrye has the look of someone getting ready to settle down for a good read, she drags him back into a leap, singing, "Getting you to the church on time."

Hope you enjoyed. Next month we'll enjoy fireworks and CHASING...CHASING...CHASING by our good friends Angelica Hart and Zi, DRAGON'S ANGEL by Donica Covey and THE LAST LEGACY by Jenna Leigh.

Have fun in the sun!

Dona Penza Rutabaga Tattle, Esq. and Associate Wrye Balderdash of Blather City, Wannachat

Created and written by Angelica Hart and Zi

KILLER DOLLS

SNAKE DANCE

CHASING...CHASING...CHASING July 2010 Champagne Books angelicahartandzi.com
Tattle and Wrye can also be found at www.myspace.com/champagnebooks

Tattle & Wrye - April 2010

FROM THE DESK OF

DONA PENZA TATTLE, ESQ.

AND

ASSOCIATE WRYE BALDERDASH

Greetings,

Tattle practically floats into the office, dressed in a full yellow skirt, white ruffled blouse, an enormous frilly, flower strewn Easter hat and yellow bowling shoes. "In my Easter bonnet," she sings, ending with, "...Grandest lady in the Easter Parade.  I adore April."  Nine bees and one fly buzz her bonnet.

"On April first I'm always tired after the long March to it."  Dressed just as dapper, including a top hat, tails, ascot and diamond tie-pin, Wrye questions with a grin, "We're off to a parade?  A parade with rabbits in the heat of the day.  Would that give us hot cross bunnies?"

"No, we're off on our Love of Literature Leap."  She holds out an Easter basket filled with books.  "All our favorites!"

Out of Wrye's top hat, as if a magician's, a hare pops two lengthy lopped ears.  He extends his crooked elbow, hands her a fancy colored egg and they leap, letting anyone who notices that on the seat of his pants is a bunny tail.



Wrye picks a book, flips it like a coin, and the two leap into FLAWLESS by Kimber Chin, a romantic suspense.

"Oh my, he looks familiar," Tattle says, spying a dangerous but handsome man, fanning the spontaneous flash of heat.  "My, he swelters!  Killer looks...hubba, hubba...the man has reformed."  She waggles her tushie.

"Hadn't noticed.  Ah, yes, yes, Tavos Santos, he was introduced in Kimber's best seller INVISIBLE.  Tavos is a known killer."  He bites the butt off a chocolate bunny and the ears of another, turns them to face each other, and as if two puppets he speaks for them, one saying, "My, my, my butt hurts."  The other bobs.  "Huh?"  Wrye puts the rabbits back in his pocket and as if his play had never happened, turned to Tattle.  "He's a killer."

"I can see that my April showers...hunks."

"As for being a reformed killer, Grace Williams, however, thinks differently, for upon meeting him, she believes he has been sent to...da...da...da...daaaa!"  Runs a finger across his throat, making the appropriate slitting sound.  "You would think she’d flee in fear, bunny hop away!  But obviously smitten, she kisses him instead.  It was one of the things on her list.  List!  Am I on her list?  How do I get on the list?"

Tattle points to the paragraph about the list, "Ah, yes, one of the many things she'd like to do before she dies, kiss the scarred stranger sent to..."  Tattle emulates Wrye's gesture.  "Risky is she?  You sure you want to be on that list?"

"Tavos wasn't there to do Grace harm, so it is said, but to protect her from her psychotic father, or was he? The father was recently released from prison...plot twist...and at the behest of a mysterious green-eyed woman, head of the relocation service Grace had contacted, Tavos had been solicited."

"Does green-eyed foreshadow jealousy?"  Flips over a few more pages.  "I know not, but she decides to take a stand against her father, and Tavos decides to help."  And the plot coagulates.

"By kidnapping her?"  Wrye looks incredulous.  Pulls cell phone out, it attached to a pigeon and enters 911, pigeon giggles, but Tattle persuades him to return the techno-bird back to his pocket.

"To keep her safe.  After all, Grace can be stubborn."  By now she realizes his Easter suit was that of a magician's.

"As her father, for he comes after her, but not before they...."  Wrye whispers into Tattle's ear, and wiggles brows.

Cooing, she again emulates his response.  "If this book got any hotter, it would smoke!"  Picks Wrye's pocket and uses a flapping pigeon to fan herself.

"Yup, smokin' with sensuality, suspense, and intrigue, a down-right page turner.  Weooo, away we go, hot, hot, hot!"

"Question is, just who will survive.  Was that shots I heard?"

"Let's leap so as not to give any more away!"

She returns the pigeon and grabs the chocolate bunny, noshes as they leap.




Their next hippity-hop leap takes them to FLAHERTY'S CROSSING by Kaylin McFarren, a woman's contemporary, where Tattle instantly blots at tear wet lashes.  "So sad...so very sad."

"We've entered the scene where Kate Flaherty's estranged father is dying," he whispers reverently, pulling a pocket handkerchief, he hands it to Tattle.  She takes it and unreels seventeen more attached to it.  Tattle shrugs a so-sorry.

They both stand at a respectful distance, and hear the father's bedside confession about his part in Kate's mother's death."  Has he foredoomed himself?  The plum of possibility sweetens.  "Do you have a dictionary in your bloomers?"  Wrye looks at Tattle's butt for big book protrusion, "You seem to be a smarty pants."

"Ouch!" Tattle says, "Add this on top of her marriage falling apart.  Her husband Drew mentioned something about separation!  Sword of Damocles moment!"  She looks at the bunny she is eating and wonders if her butt is huge-ing. Shrugs her shoulders and bites off a leg.

"Not good...not good at all."  Wrye leans over, fingering the book pages, to peer further into the story, tickling Tattle with his bunny ears.  "There is no lull in the suspense tonight, da da, on her way home, da da, there is, da da, a detour, da daaaaaa!"

Not realizing her lips are chocolate smeared, she garbles and drivels, "Read further along, it's not all bad, it gives her a chance to talk to a stranger, to think through some of her emotions about her marriage and herself, before she ends up fleeing for her life, searching for faith and forgiveness."  Using the wad of hankies, she towels her mess then tries to return the mass into his top pocket, leaving a uni-boob.

"Deer!"

"Huh?"  Tattle shakes her head.  "Oh, yes, she is a sweet dear, emotionally suppressed perhaps, artists can sometimes have greater depths of feelings."

"No, I meant...."  He points a few pages back, "There is a deer in the road and she is motoring straight for it."

Both read swiftly.  "Watch out!"   Reads more.  "She swerved!"

"She can't see anything but darkness!"  Reads further, "Oh no!"

"She's going to...."  Wrye holds a finger to Tattle's lips.  "Time to go."

"But...but...but!"  She is dragged into the vortex of literature.




"It's foggy in here," Tattle says, blowing at the white mist as they appear in HEATED DREAMS by Julie Grissom, an erotic fantasy/paranormal time-travel. (Carnal Passions Publication)  She egg-spected (Easter humor) the fog to be chilled but it was more steamy, thus foretelling.

"A dream," Wrye responds just before his jaw drops, eyes bulge, pulse races, and the bunny ears erect.

Tattle follows the direction of his glance, puts a hand to her chest oh so lady-like and grins oh so salaciously.  "Oh my, what are they doing?  Mmmm...oooohhh...ahhhhh!"  Was it lust?  Were they...?

The GQ of gentleman, Wrye covers Tattle's eyes, she peering through the gaps in his fingers, as he big-bunny-knows-better drags her to another page, "This is a private dream, wow it is, Tattle, m'gal."  At this point, he notes in his Blackberry the page number.

A door chimes as they arrive in Roxy's bookstore, which seems normal enough, but the air sizzles and sparks!  Foreshadow?  Maybe.  Foredoom?  Could be.  Foreplay?  Hopefully.

"That was Roxy's dream," Tattle says, as she notes in her Blackberry the afore page.  "And he..." points to the mega desirous male who had just entered, "...was in it.  She looks shocked.  Why?  Whereas, he looks likes his boots belong under my bed!"

"She is shocked.  Boots!!  She has only met Brett Sperry in her spicy dreams."  Wrye wonders if Dreamscape technology is available. Bites into a peanut butter egg, likes it, forgets about the dream.  Peanut butter tints the ponder of his knowledge of Roxy, "She had a disastrous unfulfilled marriage, drat, and thinks she is flawed, poor kitten, can't...errr..."  Flashes red face.

"What?"  Tattle asks, watching Wrye's strange expression, remembers Roxy's dilemma and goes, "Oh...the big O?"  She turns red faced.

Nods with the support of another bite, composure returns, "Brett takes an interest..."  Wrye straightens his ascot, in a manly act strokes his rabbit ears.  "In her...or...."  The red returns.  "He's from the 45th century, and is magical.  I guess they've matured and deal with that stuff."

Tattle tilts her head to check Brett out from behind.  "I'll say!  Magical!  He could make my randy disappear."  Catches herself and says, "What is he doing here?"  Starts searching for the pigeon again, flapping needed.

"His mission is to find a missing runaway VIP from his century and bring him back. The plot hardens in so many ways."  Wrye is so egg-centric. (Easter humor)  "But he can read Roxy's thoughts and finds them simultaneously stimulating and distracting...simultaneously...I'll repeat, simultaneously, 'nuff said!"

"Does he find the VIP?  Does she find her Oh YES, YES, YES!?  Just what does the future hold for these two who ignite passion across time?  Do you have any more peanut butter eggs?"

"Read and find out."  The bunny married the chicken and was the first rabbit to lay an egg was Wrye's final Easter thought.

With a hop and leap, they appear back in the office.



What a hoppin' good time!  Next month we'll spring forth with enthusiasm into TAKES A CHANCE by Eve Langlais coming June 2010, BOLT ACTION by Victoria Roder, and THE ENTRANCEMENT by Carolina Montague.
Happy Easter!

Dona Penza Rutabaga Tattle, Esq.
and Associate Wrye Balderdash
of Blather City, Wannachat

WRITERS ARE STUDENTS OF PEOPLE BY: Angelica Hart and Zi

WRITERS ARE STUDENTS OF PEOPLE

BY:  Angelica Hart and Zi

When at a party where there are people I don't know, I am in an element that instigates my imagination.  What to say becomes the direct pay-off of how people I meet make me feel or the situation of the moment.  It can be like an improv class.  Of course it is appropriate but unexpected by most.  But does it start out that way?  Nope!  I sit back and study the group.  I ask myself questions.  Why are those two together?  What is she wearing beneath that dress... what could she  possibly be wearing... it is too sheer... could she be... naked?  She has to be naked.  I know I could tell if she hadn't bikini waxed.

I see a couple.  I figure that they are young and in love.  So what is the truth of their youth?  What does he smell like?  What does she?  How long did they spend getting ready?  What does she taste like when they kiss?  Does she taste different in

public then in private?  Who is alpha?  Would she ask?  Beg?  Take?  Would he?  Have they ever danced nude... at night... and in the rain... why... why not?  Does he naturally take her hand when people encroach?  Does she find protection from him?  Does she glow?  Does he?  But do they glow apart?  Is there a kinetic attraction that is felt when they are separated?  Could anyone sense their affinity for each other? 

One of the greatest quotes that I heard uttered, moved me.  "I saw her across the room (at a party) and the only voice I heard was hers.  Heard her all night.  So I had to meet her."  Ten years later they are together.  I find myself compelled to understand attraction.  I am drawn to that allure. 

So for a period of time I am a party voyeur and then I mingle.  And try to resolve my questions.  While others dance, small-talk, and double-dip their chips, I query.  I'll ask the hostess how could she possibly pull that dress off wearing undies?  And if I am lucky she'll reply, "You want to pull that dress off... and see?"  We'd laugh but she'd tell me.  And so the night begins.  Asking questions maybe everyone else wanted to ask.  Doesn't Max understand his toupee looks anything but natural?  Hey bud, your merkin is moving to high ground?  Could Wayne have worn a shirt with more wrinkles?  Own an iron that works?  And does Paula know every old geezer is ogling her blouse's décolleté?  Does she know she's nipus erecti?  I bet she knows.  Go Paula.  I'll ask.  

It is endless this query, these questions, these provocative thoughts, for the need to be inside a character forces the need to understand people.  So, next time you are at a party or gathering, see beyond the person and invent who you think they are.  Might be even more interesting than the truth.

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at angeliahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.

Angelica Hart and Zi

KILLER DOLLS ~ September 2009

SNAKE DANCE ~ February 2010

CHASING GRAVITAS ~ July 2010

angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com

angelicahartandzi.com 

KILLER DOLLS and SNAKE DANCE can be purchased at

Champagne Books

http://www.champagnebooks.com/

LEAVE A COMMENT AND BE ENTERED INTO OUR WEEKLY DRAWING FOR AN E-BOOK.

STRICTLY NAUGHTY By: Angelica Hart and Zi

STRICTLY NAUGHTY

By:  Angelica Hart and Zi

We have had opportunity to talk to many people that have an interest in writing. One of the themes that runs as if a stream of consciousness is writer's block. With empathy we listen to wannabe authors describe something tougher than a $2.00 flank steak. That blank white field before you taunting and teasing, "Fill me... fill me... with profound and purposeful rhetoric."

Ouch that does hurt. That screen needs a time-out. Bingo... that is what you need to do. Take the time to figure out what you want to say.  There is a study out there, it might have been done by someone from Penn. This person polled famous and accomplished authors and asked what was the most important thing. The preponderance of responses were similar. To distill that... have something to say. That is right. Have something to say. There are plenty of people that craft well, many superiorly but if what they create is shallow or without an audience... then to what end? Pretty prose without purpose is like having cheese cake without sugar, just doesn't sit as well on the palette.

We once met a woman who wanted to write romance. Asked her to send us samples. She wrote erotica. We suggested she add romance, pointing out places where she could punch it up. She returned the piece and had written better and more erotica. She did have something to say. It was not romance. We recommended that she pursue that audience. She did. She's happy writing strictly naughty.

In our stories always know what we wanted to say. And sometimes it is as simple as love can be found anywhere, anytime by anyone if you look for it.

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at angeliahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.

Angelica Hart and Zi

KILLER DOLLS ~ September 2009

SNAKE DANCE ~ February 2010

CHASING GRAVITAS ~ July 2010

angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com

angelicahartandzi.com 

KILLER DOLLS and SNAKE DANCE can be purchased at

Champagne Books

http://www.champagnebooks.com/

LEAVE A COMMENT AND BE ENTERED INTO OUR WEEKLY DRAWING FOR AN E-BOOK.

 

CURIOUS By: Angelica Hart and Zi

CURIOUS

By:  Angelica Hart and Zi

We question.

A man is an incubus... a woman is a succubus... therefore are angels, boogeymen, and tooth fairies exempt? If a mosquito bites you at night it is by definition a succubus and thus female? And what would you call someone who is of the transgender orientation? A transcubus? What about an asexual? Acubus? And does that A bus stop at B Street?

We question.

When I hear the expression peter out I react as if someone is flashing someone. Chester the Molester is in the park pulling open his trench coat. It is one of those phrases that engenders different reaction. Another is fire in the hole. I immediately think of a series of wrong thinking thoughts, a flame swallower's act gone badly, an enflamed STD, ejaculation, hemorrhoids, and amazing hot and promiscuous gal. All bad.. bad... bad thinking on my part. Expressions are imagination's fodder. Fit to the T... wet t-shirt contest. Holy Toledo... naughty Toledo. To pull strings... a mischievous lad eyeing a string bikini at the beach. Flash point... drink three... and flash tube... the top she lifts. Hard-and-fast... wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Wapper-jawed... well, my thoughts are so... well, I ain't going there. Phrases cause my mind to explode and sexplode.

We question.

If men are dogs then are women cats? Possibly. Thus the name puss and all it derivatives? Why don't women use their tongues to groom? Do they? My Grams licked her hand to fix my hair and her thumb to rub away a smudge. What else do they lick? And since cats can lick every part of their bodies why do they need men? Could a shaved cat be called a PPP. Discretion keeps me from defining the Ps. Write us and guess what we intended.

We question.

Here I sit all brokenhearted... paid a dime to poop but only farted. Where have all the pay-toilets gone? Why is Jack the nickname of John? Since we never call the privy Jack then are we always being formal? Why are there moons on out-houses and the biggest question is why did my granddad have a two-seater out-house. Who would have gone in together? Why? He and grandma... eeeesssh!

We question.

Why do runs in women's hosiery run up? A perverted function of the stitchery? A convoluted effort to provide some pleasure at a time of frustration? Because everything else runs down their legs? Oh, smack my wrist... I was a naughty boy. He-he-he.

We question.

If the male part of the body, and we know to what Angelica is referencing, is called a wiener must we in order to not offend qualify by referring to it as a Ball Park wiener. They plump when they cook them. Thus continuing the point that all men are not just dogs but wiener dogs. And then what is meant when someone is weaned off something? Interesting? Sick? Angelica wrote this. Complain to her. Please!

We question... why... because we do.

As we sat to write KILLER DOLLS and SNAKE DANCE we discussed the heroes' motivations, we questioned what would scare them. The thoughts scared us. We went heart-ripper. Neither are your grandmother's traditional reads. Read!

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at angeliahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.

Angelica Hart and Zi

KILLER DOLLS ~ September 2009

SNAKE DANCE ~ February 2010

CHASING GRAVITAS ~ July 2010

angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com

angelicahartandzi.com 

KILLER DOLLS and SNAKE DANCE can be purchased at

Champagne Books

http://www.champagnebooks.com/

LEAVE A COMMENT AND BE ENTERED INTO OUR WEEKLY DRAWING FOR AN E-BOOK.

 

Tattle & Wrye - March 2010

FROM THE DESK OF

DONA PENZA TATTLE, ESQ.

AND

ASSOCIATE WRYE BALDERDASH

Greetings,

Dressed in flamboyant green with butter cream colored trim, Tattle looks like a nutty Irish lass with tweaked wild hair, however, she believes herself and her basket of Irish potato candy, is quite fetching.  She jigs!

Wearing the traditional hat, curl-toed boots and green of the shamrock, Wrye grins, "Top of the Mornin' to ye.  What is a nuahcerpel?"  He jigs!

Tattle returns, "And the rest of the day to yerself.  What is a nuahcerpel?"  She re-jigs!

"Dressed in green, tiniest man ever seen, catch me is told, if ye wants me gold.  Iss' a Leprechaun, backwards.  Do you like my outfit?" he turns backwards, peering over his shoulder. "Snack for our Love of Literature Leap?"  Reaches into the basket and takes a fistful of the edible treats, "Cream cheese, coconut, sham rock me happy."  He re-jigs!

"As many as ye can fit in ye pocket, m'Leprechaun-bud."   

With a pre-leaping joint jig, they're off.

Upon landing in Carol McPhee's Romantic Suspense, A STRUCTURED AFFAIR, Wrye sings a few notes of O' Danny Boooy and stops short, realizing he's in the midst of a downpour.  Tattle hands him a newspaper, and he quickly covers his head.  "Lucky?  As finding a horseshoe in a field of clover, which means some horse is barefoot."

Ignoring his puffery, she points to the paper and says, "Read it," as she escorts him out of the deluge and into a mansion.

First shakes like a dog, flipping off water.  "HEIRESS FALLS TO HER DEATH," Wrye reads aloud, mutters for a bit, "Blarney!" and then, "Ah, Detective Sloane Jamieson himself suspects murder, and that Stephen Morgan, the husband, could be the killer."  Mystery looms?

"'tis for certain he suspects," agrees Tattle, she neatly folds the paper and places it in her apron pocket, planning on recycling for 'tis the season to be green.  "Stephen is a quiet, reticent artist, who is aware of Sloane's mistrust.  A hunky hunk of misunderstanding.  He is also cognizant of the rumors that he only married Emily, the victim, because she had been pregnant.  Exquisite drama!  Now, presently, their child, Stephanie, is seven years old, and in fragile health.  Could there be a larger parental pain?"  A ball of a tear forms in her left eye.

Balancing on his shillelagh, he passes an eyelet hanky.  "With not enough evidence to convict....  Struggle!   Sloane uses the department's psychologist, Catherine Malloy as an undercover agent.  She the love interest? How intriguing to watch her infiltrate the family as Stephanie's governess." 

Sensing a candy moment, she pickpockets Wrye, letting the sweet melt in her mouth, she further explains, "Needing a distraction from her troubled past....  This is good candy!"  She high-fives herself then continues, "Catherine follows orders only to find she has stepped right into it."  And it is that it that is the melodrama of the story.

"There is something very wrong in the Morgan household, and a part of that wrongness quickly becomes the mutual and growing attraction between Catherine and Stephen.  Starry-eyed and mushy?"  Using his shillelagh, he fences with the philodendron.   Houseplant wins.  "She knows he hadn't killed Emily, she knows he loves his daughter, she also knows their futures are doomed if she doesn't uncover the real murderer."  Mystery multiplied by tension.

Tattle thumbs cyber pages to get to the end, Wrye restrains her by holding out an Irish potato candy, which she follows right into the leap zone.  They leave a wake of clover.

Tattle lands in a wheelchair, brake is off, she goes spinning down an incline, hits a rock and tumbles off.  "Whew!" she expels, as she returns the chair to where she found it, brake set.  "Now that's a ride."

"And for those who like romantic suspense rides, they must read MORTAL COIL by Julie Eberhart Painter." 

Being playful, Tattle notes, "St. Patrick drove all of the snakes out of Ireland because he could not afford the bus fare."  Tattle hops over a few characters, ignores the opening paragraph anticipating and plops directly into the plot.  "Murder!" Pauses, "Bless their souls," and then more forcefully, "Conflict!  Danger!  Love!"

"More!  More!  More!"  Wrye begins to juggle four blarney stones.  "Aye, m'lass, two murders, both of them in Ellen Lange's nursing home."  At this point, the Sherlockean in him draws his notebook and he starts collecting clues.

Tattle narrows her gaze and plucks a rubber knife out from the welt of her thigh highs, believing she now looks dangerous, but the word Disney steals that possibility.  "I see, Special Investigator Bill Watts, the same Bill Watts that gives moi the hots, oops, can't go there, had been called in to investigate.  That man steals my breath."  She hyperventilates, gains composure and continues, "These murders are the same as others, known as the Ponytail Crimes."  Tattle disentangles her ponytail holder envisioning safe haven.   

Wrye is courtly enough not to tell her she looks odd with a floppy knife and her hair the pride of punk.  Instead he informs, "As the investigation proceeds, Ellen's daughter, Patti, good Irish name, takes a liking to Bill and vice-versa.  A contest of good guy vs. momma knows best.  At first, Ellen, a widow, wants to protect  Patti with no intrusions from the once divorced Bill.  I bet she likes him.  Trysty potential?  However, as the investigation progresses, Ellen's defenses fall, way to go Bill, and she becomes enamored, way to go Ellen, which delights her young daughter, yea everybody."

Tattle mistakes her own discarded ponytail holder for a rat, previously displaced glasses on forehead, and using moves that would pride Rambo, she plummets it with her rubber blade and continues breathlessly, "Yet, unsolved murders remain a foil to happiness, for suddenly Ellen is gone and in the hands of a vengeful murderer who wants Patti!"  Yowlza! 

"Are you Patti-whacked?"  Wrye gives her the side-eye stare.

"No blarney kissin' for me."

"Well, what happens?  This is so great, I gotta know."

"Read and see!" 

They leap.

Wrye finds himself eye to eye with a rolling tumbleweed, home of Jane Toombs's historical romance, ONCE AN OUTCAST, part of the Orphan Train Series.  He shouts oxymoronically, "Yeehaw, spread out a bunch!"  He shoves at the tumbleweed.  He jumps up as if the weed was about to attack him and looks around at the camp site.  In the not so far distance a train whistles, low and soulfully.  "Gorgeous," he says in a half whisper, dressed with awe as he absorbs the night sky.

"She is, isn't she," agrees Tattle, speaking of the lovely half-gypsy Jehenna Scovia.  Tattle dances as if tapping an air tambourine, flipping skirt in a taunting manner.

Knowing he meant the stars, he chose to agree, "Ah, the lass herself, that she is indeed.  Unbeknownst to the father, the poor thing was thrown onto the orphan train by a man employed by her father."  Creep!

Pain grips Tattle, thinking of being so forsaken.  "But for Jehenna that was freedom, no more abuse, no more neglect, no more being trapped in a room with her stepmother playing the hymn, "Drink To Me Only With Thine Eyes."  The pain turns to a rip of anger, knowing that the young are meant to be adored.

"Over time, freedom proves to be a hard course for such a young gal, and that freedom could be short, for Jehenna's father hires Nathan Cole to find her."  Angst bubbles with thoughts of returning to a tormented home.  Was this father well intended?  Confused?

"After a while, Nathan does find her.  But she continually manages to escape him."

"Cat and mouse?"

"Seems so.  But why?"

"And each time they meet, something hot and sizzling transpires.  Is that why?  Both are aware they cannot surrender to passion.  Torment!  It would complicate the complicated.  For she was his job, his duty.  And she didn't want to go home."  What were they to do?

"Finally, Nathan offers a solution.  To leave with him, not to go back to her father, but just to be with him.  The nobility of the man seems apparent, or does it?"

"So many had lied to her before, dare she trust him?  Tears claw at my sensibilities."

"Will she?"

Tattle responds with.  "I smell ham and cabbage burnnnning!  Left it on the stove," and off they leap.

Hope you enjoyed!  Next month we'll be bunny hopping from FLAWLESS by Kimber Chin, to FLAHERTY'S CROSSING by Kaylin McFarren, to HEATED DREAMS by Julie Grissom, our first Love of Literature Leap from Carnal Passions.   

 

Happy St. Patrick's Day to all who turn green! 

Dona Penza Rutabaga Tattle, Esq.

and Associate Wrye Balderdash

of Blather City, Wannachat

Created and written by

Angelica Hart and Zi

KILLER DOLLS ~ September 2009

SNAKE DANCE ~ February 2010

CHASING GRAVITAS (working title) ~ July 2010

Champagne Books

angelicahartandzi.com

Tattle and Wrye can also be found at www.myspace.com/champagnebooks

DANCE? By: Angelica Hart and Zi

DANCE?

By: Angelica Hart and Zi



Come, join us as we slip into a small moment of fantasy.



There in the frost of offensive silence, he crossed the room stopping, his keen blue beige eyes instantly thawed that chill. She saw in his broad shoulders a champion, in the cut of his shirt a man of style, and from the tint of the musk of his cologne a man who must have haunted the dreams of so many women. He extended a powerful hand toward her, a hand that bespoke hard work, yet was groomed.

"Dance?"

His voice was deep and rich. That simple query managed to release rushes she hadn't felt for so long. It was 1981, when Peter asked her to prom. She had not expected it, wanted it, but felt he should have asked another. Tonight, like that day she hesitated. This man much like Peter confidently waited for her reply. Eventually, her reply was the same as in 1981. "No!"



Back in high school Peter walked away. This night, this man, lifted the left corner of his mouth creating a charming half-grin, and choose not to retreat. "Let's dance."

He bent at the waist, leaned forward, lifted her from her wheelchair, carried her to the floor, and there they spun and swayed, she held safe in his arms. Found herself easily lost in his massive chest, blanketed by his musk, dreaming of him, and washed in his gentle hum, it the guttural groan of a primal urges. The room's din with the band playing, once uncomfortably loud, became insignificant, and in that moment all was marked, meaningful and telling.

Joyce's friends watched and one became teary. They understood just how beautiful she was. They at the time in their lives where mating and pairing was a priority, and hoped for her. None felt she was at risk of being hurt. They knew this man. Knew his heart. Back in high school Peter was a boy, the wheelchair seemed daunting, but today Peter was a man and could not walk again from the girl who warmed his soul.



We try to touch emotions. We hope we do.




We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at angeliahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.



Angelica Hart and Zi

KILLER DOLLS ~ September 2009

SNAKE DANCE ~ February 2010

CHASING GRAVITAS ~ July 2010

angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com

angelicahartandzi.com

KILLER DOLLS and SNAKE DANCE can be purchased at

Champagne Books

http://www.champagnebooks.com/



LEAVE A COMMENT AND BE ENTERED INTO OUR WEEKLY DRAWING FOR AN E-BOOK.

Excerpt - Snake Dance by Angelica Hart & Zi

The Story:

On the planet Starling wRen defies her heritage so she can be with VeIper, an outcast bent on freeing his species from ethnic cleansing.  Mong, a slayer, quells their ambition as he plots the subjugation of wRen and the death of VeIper.

EXCERPT FOUR

Found One

A dark male placed a heavy clawed foot through the thick grass and upon the throat of that which he pursued, now prone, holding it still as it struggled, and shouted, “Found one!”

Two other of his kind, they Kin ran toward him wishing to view his quarry and catch. Each brandishing steel or dagger, shoulders protected by tanned thick skins, and head hair braided creating a ridge that ran down their backs.

“Good,” spat the first to arrive, a cruel smile filling his face, a declarant, a single word of acclaim.

“Let me see,” insisted the second.

“Give it the Blow of Mercy.” The act was a declassing of another. The elite Kin felt they owned that right, and did it at their whim.

ABOUT AUTHORS

Their combined accomplishments include book publications in print and/or electronic versions of twenty-four titles, fifteen romance specific, ten manuscripts pending, EPPIE finalist for three books, Cecil Whig award, Hob-Nob Reader's Choice Award, written over 500 shorts with numerous published in both nationwide and small press magazines, articles published in various local, city and statewide newspapers, including four as a Guest Columnist in addition to trade articles. Both are members of various writing groups.

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do.  Anyone who writes us at angeliahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings. 

Angelica Hart and Zi

KILLER DOLLS  ~  September 2009

SNAKE DANCE  ~  February 2010

CHASING GRAVITAS ~  July 2010

angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com

angelicahartandzi.com

KILLER DOLLS can be purchased at

Champagne Books

http://www.champagnebooks.com/

Excerpt - Snake Dance by Angelica Hart & Zi

The Story:

On the planet Starling wRen defies her heritage so she can be with VeIper, an outcast bent on freeing his species from ethnic cleansing.  Mong, a slayer, quells their ambition as he plots the subjugation of wRen and the death of VeIper.

EXCERPT THREE

Her Shell Breech

...“Her name,” he demanded more sternly than he intended, flashing to the monster all expected. Mong was controlling, though feral, he did not wish for all to know his interest but they did. It could not be evaded. He had the look of a devourer. She was his. He desired it. He silently claimed her, and none would dare to come against that claim once it was officially made known, and he intended to do so.

Charon stepped forward, honored that this noble elite took such an interest. “Her name will be from this point forward, wRen, she honoring my great Aunt.”

“wRen is to be mine,” Mong uttered in a low breath he could only hear. Then for all to hear stated, “wRen is a beautiful name, so apt, for your biddy is more beautiful than beauty could expect. Proud you must ache.” He turned to the fellow Kin, “Murd, you have done well.”

ABOUT AUTHORS

Their combined accomplishments include book publications in print and/or electronic versions of twenty-four titles, fifteen romance specific, ten manuscripts pending, EPPIE finalist for three books, Cecil Whig award, Hob-Nob Reader's Choice Award, written over 500 shorts with numerous published in both nationwide and small press magazines, articles published in various local, city and statewide newspapers, including four as a Guest Columnist in addition to trade articles. Both are members of various writing groups.

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do.  Anyone who writes us at angeliahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings. 

Angelica Hart and Zi

KILLER DOLLS  ~  September 2009

SNAKE DANCE  ~  February 2010

CHASING GRAVITAS ~  July 2010

angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com

angelicahartandzi.com

KILLER DOLLS can be purchased at

Champagne Books

http://www.champagnebooks.com/