Roz Lee's Blog, page 27

If these guys can't lift your spirits on a Monday...



Thanks for stopping by, and...have a great week!

Welcome!
There's nothing quite like a summer night spent at the ballpark! And, because you can't take me anywhere (that's what my family says anyway) it's no wonder the idea for my baseball themed menage, Inside Heat, popped into my head on just such a night!  Oh, those sexy athletes in tight pants! Inspiring, I tell you, inspiring. *sigh*

It's about more than scoring –It's about hitting a home run.
                Jeff "The Terminator" Holder is the closer for the Texas Mustangs' baseball team, and revered throughout the Major League for throwing inside heat. His twin brother, Jason, the Mustang's catcher, leads the League in hits. They share a love of the game, as well as their identical DNA – but that's not all they share.                  Pediatric Nurse Megan Long doesn’t know baseball, but she does know a sexy guy when she sees one - or two. When she seeks out an autograph for one of her patients, she falls under the spell of two of the sexiest players in baseball. Unable to resist their charms, Megan finds herself in bed with both men, but falling in love with only one.                 Locked in an epic battle against the steroid pumping Martin McCree, Jeff's obsession with striking out McCree strains his relationship with his brother, and leads to an injury that threatens his career and dents his ego. Megan does her best to get through to him, but if Jeff can't see past his failings to find the love she's offering, he's going to strike out in the biggest game of his life.Read an excerpt Here.

Okay, here's the stuff you really want to know - What you can win.
Here's the grand prize - 
$100 Gift Card to EdenFantasys, fun sex toy shop Or, you could win this virtual gift basket - Digital Erotica Gift Basket with over 40 books  Or... directly from me, Roz Lee... Roz Lee Swag - a complete set of Roz Lee trading cards (10 cards in all - not all shown here), plus a lovely Roz Lee pen.
To put your name in the hopper for all of these prizes, simply leave a comment below the Linky. What is your favorite way to spend a hot summer night?

Yesterday was Father's Day, and as we all know, the necktie (even before the current run on gray ones) is a traditional gift. In honor of that time-honored tradition, I offer the following drool worthy male specimens: Take it off...
Oh yeah, that's better.
Now, that's what I'm talkin' about!
Ready for more Manday Monday Hotties?Click Here to follow the hop.

I wrote this piece a few years ago, so I apologize if you've already read it, but for those of you who may have missed it, or didn't follow me then, here's a tribute to my dad. 
My dad was a simple man. He was born Feb.2, 1916 in Anna, Texas. He was the second son, and sixth born of eleven. He had an eighth grade education and an analytical mind. Like many of his generation, he enlisted in the Army during WWII, spending much of his time in North Africa and Italy as a Motor Pool Staff Sergeant with the 88th Division, Blue Devils. When he returned to the States he married his wartime pen-pal on his 30th birthday.

As a newlywed, he moved his new bride from Dallas to “the edge of nowhere”, Plano, where he had a job as a farm equipment mechanic at the Allis Chalmers dealership which occupied the old train depot station in downtown Plano at the time. He bought a slice of property on the new freeway and built a small home and his own shop on the land. In ten years time his family had outgrown the small house he’d built by hand, so he purchased a brand new house on the edge of town - one with three bedrooms and a big yard for his children to play in. He continued to make his living as a farm equipment mechanic, and occasionally he would repair a car or pickup, or bulldozer, or whatever was brought his way.

I learned a lot of things from my dad.

He taught me that intelligence isn’t measured by framed scraps of paper on the wall, or how many consonants you can string together behind your name.

He taught me that I could be anything I wanted to be, and for a southern girl, that was news to me.

He taught me how to use my hands, and the difference between a wrench and a pair of pliers. He let me get my hands (and clothes) greasy, and slide underneath a car on a creeper. He let me look over his shoulder while he rebuilt engines and transmissions, while he ground valves, and set the timing on a internal combustion engine. The tools of his trade were recently stolen from the home he bought for his family 52 years ago. I wonder if the person who took them knew they were taking memories too.

He taught me physics by way of pulleys, levers, and inclined planes.

He taught me to drive a tractor, a combine, and a standard transmission auto (pickup truck actually).

He taught me how to swim, not the swim team style; river and military style. Head up, eyes open, so you can see where you’re going. I still swim that way.

He taught me about the bounty of the earth, letting me tag along on service calls to the middle of wheat and cotton fields. He let me dive into trailers filled with grain, and he took me to the cotton gin in Plano and walked me through the catwalks, explaining how the machinery worked as we went along. (While the machinery was running, too! Lordy, no one would let a child do that these days!)

By example, he taught me the color of your skin doesn’t have anything to do with your worth as a human being, nor does the thickness of your wallet.

He taught me that your bank balance is not a way to keep score.

By example, he showed me how to hold my head high, how to honor humble beginnings, and humble living.

He taught me Algebra where my teachers couldn’t, even though he'd only completed eight years of school, and he'd never attended an Algebra class in his life. My teacher’s never understood how I came up with the correct answers, since I wasn’t doing it “by the textbook.”

He taught me that History class was important because we have to understand where we’ve been, in order to see where we’re going.

He let me fix his hair in crazy hair styles while he watched television. From this I learned I have no talent to be a hair stylist.

He taught me that high expectations for children are better discipline than spanking.

He taught me that hard work is its own reward. That providing for your family to the best of your ability is a goal in life.

He taught me to love and respect the out of doors, and to be kind to animals.

He taught me how to shoot a rifle (what self-respecting Texas girl doesn’t need to know that?), and how to build a campfire.

He taught me how to roller skate, and how to skate ‘couples’. He was always my favorite skate partner.

He taught me how to crack pecans, and nap under a plum tree.

He taught me that smoking will kill you.

The only time I ever saw my father in a church was for a funeral or a wedding, but he was good man, a Godly man, if there is such a thing. Did he believe in Heaven and Hell? I don’t know, but he lived a life worthy of Heaven if there is one.

He passed from this life on April 23, 1991.

I'm so excited to have Sharon Buchbinder here today! She's just released a wonderful anthology that has something for everyone. From short stories to novellas, from sweet to paranormal and erotic, it's an exciting sampler of Sharon's awesome writing talent.Today, she has a great blog for you, full of history and mythology, and even a bit of Hollywood.Nobody weaves all that together better than Sharon Buchbinder.
Galatea, Pygmalion, Pigmalion: A Rose by Any Other Name Like many authors, my inspiration for my short story, PIGMALION, in my new anthology, KILLER KISSES, came from an old myth. The Greeks and Romans worshiped Aphrodite and Venus, respectively. In one of the versions of the myth of Galatea, a sculptor whose heart has been broken and hardened by a bad break-up, decides to sculpt the perfect woman from marble. Possessed by some unknown power, he works day and night. As he works, the marble feels warmer to his touch and what emerges from the block of stone is a woman so beautiful, she takes his breath away. He falls in love with his statue and falls asleep at its life-size feet. He awakes to a living woman who steps down from the pedestal into his welcoming arms.
Centuries later, George Bernard Shaw, revisited this myth and updated the story with linguistics Professor Henry Higgins and his flower-seller student, Eliza Doolittle. His charming and tongue-in-cheek tale is available in full text for all to read at Pygmalion. The years have not dimmed his humor. Shaw's use of the new technology of languages and all the gadgets and scholarship available at that time are put to good use to move the story forward, all contingent, of course, on a bet. If you are old enough to remember bell-bottoms, then you know this story later became the hit 1964 musical film, My Fair Lady, starring Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison.
Fast forward to current times and you have my version of the myth retold in PIGMALION. In my story, the professor has become a female speech-language pathology graduate student, Levisa Harris, and the language-challenged student has become an accounting student from Pigtown, Baltimore, an area well-known for its heavily accented dialect.
Whether it is Galatea, Pygmalion or Pigmalion, in this rose by any other name, all of the stories focus on the transformative power of love. Isn't that what we all want?


Here's a little excerpt to tease you into reading more from PIGMALION and the rest of my anthology, KILLER KISSES.


She rubbed against him, and her legs felt weak. She whispered, “I’ve been struggling to keep my hands off you for four months.”
“We’ve waited this long, this is going to be special—for both of us.” He nibbled at her shoulder, and began kissing his way down to the base of her neck. “Time to take this off.” Her turtleneck sweater slid up over her long curls, exposing her black camisole. “Next.” He peeled the spaghetti straps down, removed the silk lingerie, then her bra. His lips hovered over her breasts, his breath warming her, thrilling her nipples.
Levisa moaned and shuddered with anticipation. She cupped her hands under her breasts, offering them up to him with abandon. She had never been this free with a man before. She’d always felt like an observer, not really involved, when she’d made love. But this time, this man, this aching need was different.
Oh my God, I’m so in love with him!
In a nearly hypnotic state, she watched him lightly lick her left nipple and then take it into his mouth, sucking and pulling. She groaned and grabbed his firm butt, pressing hard against the outline of his erection.
“Now?”
"Not yet.” He took her nipple between his teeth, tugging lightly. Levisa gasped as his hands slid up her skirt, between her legs, and stroked her thigh a torturous inch below her silk thong. She pulled at his waistband and unzipped his pants, barely recognizing her own voice thick with lust, “My turn to drive you wild.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Get over here,” she ordered. Slowly, intent on teasing him, she eased his jeans down. As he stepped out of the pant legs, she tiptoed her fingers down his back, beneath the waistband of his underwear, and grabbed his butt. “Did I tell you, you have a perfect ass?”
A look of surprise flickered across Sam’s handsome face; then in a in a flash, still watching his expression, she yanked his briefs down to his ankles. His beautiful penis stood at attention, long and hard, waiting to be of service.
“Oh my,” she whispered in awe. “I admire a man who’s happy to see me."

KILLER KISSES is available exclusively at Amazon

WebsiteTwitterFacebook Amazon Author's Page
And if you haven't yet figured out how awesome Sharon is, let me show you her Diva side!This is Sharon at the RT Convention in Chicago in April of this year. Look close. Those most awesome shoes kind of get lost in the carpet pattern! I think maybe she'd been to one party too many when I took this photo!
Leave Sharon a message. A kind one, so she won't hate me too much for sharing the extra photos with you!

This is my first post to the weekly, Manday Hotties Hop. Since Summer is just beginning, I thought a water theme might be appropriate.
So... A little beach action. Uhm...got sand in your...?
Thanks for stopping by. Just click Here to go back to find other Manday Hotties!

In this little snippet, Dell wrestles with his desire for Carolina. What do you think? Does he do the honorable thing and walk away, or does he give in and take what he wants?
She'd undone her blouse, revealing perfect breasts encased in some sort of lace marvel that married engineering with sin, and sent blood rushing to his cock with enough speed to make him dizzy. Caro's head rested on the back of the sofa, her eyes closed, her full lips parted. Images flashed through his impaired brain, and he couldn't decide which he wanted more – to shove his cock past those soft lips, or lick the sweat from her body, one inch at a time. He stood silent, watching her breathe, almost afraid to breathe himself – afraid he'd wake and find it was a dream – a fantasy. He wasn't the man for her. He knew it in his soul, but it didn't keep his body from wanting her.
Read a full excerpt here.Visit Roz Lee's website.Sweet Carolina is available here:AmazonBarnes & Noble
Back to Six Sentence Sunday

Winning her heart will be the sweetest victory of all.
Twenty-three-year-old Carolina Hawkins needs an experienced Cup driver, or the business she inherited from her father will be facing its last lap on the NASCAR circuit. Approaching her childhood friend, Dell Wayne, is risky - there's a reason he doesn't have a ride in the middle of the season. Carolina pins her hopes and dreams on the man once touted as a brilliant, new style of driver, but whose recent track performance has earned him the nickname – Madman.After his father's tragic death at Darlington, Caudell Wayne Jr. has done his best to live 'down' to his father's expectations. When Carolina Hawkins hires him to drive for her failing race team, her faith in his ability prompts Dell to dig deep to find the driver she needs in order to save her business and her dream, and if he's lucky, maybe he'll win the biggest trophy of all, her heart. 
Excerpt -Dell closed the door behind her and watched through the sidelight as Caro walked to her car. Who would have thought little Carolina Hawkins would grow up to look like that? When he opened the door and saw her standing on his porch, he thought he was hallucinating. He'd heard she was back, and running Hawkins Racing, but he hadn't seen her until tonight. Damn. Now he understood some of the bawdy comments he'd heard around the garage. Caro had always been pretty, but she'd also been a tomboy – smudged with dirt and grease. She couldn't go five minutes without getting dirty. She wasn't dirty tonight. Nope. Her classy clothes were spotless with that crisp, don't-even-try-to-guess-how-much-I-cost look about them. Her father had been right to send her away. She turned into a first-class lady, and a beautiful one too. When her taillights were out of sight, he shook his head and returned to the den and the six-pack he'd been working his way through when she came calling.He opened another bottle and downed half in one long pull. The cold liquid did nothing to ease the ache in his groin or erase the image of Caro Hawkins' shapely ass from his memory. The skinny tomboy wasn't skinny anymore. She'd developed more curves than the track at Sonoma, and those legs… what he wouldn't give to see the full straightaway of those. Preferably wrapped around his hips, or spread on his bed. Then there was the thing she did with her hair. Some sort of tight coil intended to ward off the entire male population, but having the opposite effect. On Caro, it looked utterly feminine and screamed a challenge no human with a y chromosome could ignore. He had a sneaking suspicion if you got the hair to unwind, the prim little skirt she was wearing, and the silk blouse would disappear faster than a pit stop.But he wasn't going to be the one to make it happen. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he agreed to drive for her. She was the boss, and Dell had never screwed an employer, and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now. No matter what.Besides, this was Caro Hawkins. He'd raced her Big Wheel-to-Big Wheel when they were kids. He wondered if she still liked peanut butter and banana sandwiches and RC Cola or if her tastes were more sophisticated now, like the way she dressed. There wasn't much about the new Caro Hawkins that resembled the one he remembered, except those eyes, and those lips. He'd been barely old enough to start noticing those things when her dad sent her away.He'd hated like hell for her to go, but seeing the way she turned out, it was a good thing. No one in the Hawkins' garage would have gotten a damned thing done with her around. Throwing all that brewing estrogen into a garage full of testosterone would have ignited one hell of a blaze. He wasn't entirely sure it wouldn't now. Sure, she was older, and presumably able to rein in her sexuality when need be, and now that she was the boss, even more off limits than when she was the boss' daughter. That was crap. Everything about her was feminine, from her womanly curves to the intelligence in her eyes. Her presence would disrupt a garage full of eunuchs. What the hell was he thinking? Did he want a ride that bad? He drained the rest of his beer and let his head drop against the back. No. He didn't want a ride that bad – he needed a ride that bad. The only time he was able to forget was when he was driving – fast. The faster, the better. The NASCAR official accused him of being suicidal on the track. They didn't have a clue what they were talking about. On the track was the only time he wasn't suicidal. Behind the wheel of a stock car, he didn't have time to think about anything but self-preservation. Get distracted for a fraction of a second, and it would be all over. That was enough to keep him focused on staying alive. It was all the other times – like tonight – before Caro Hawkins showed up on his doorstep with her offer of salvation. Those were the times when his life was in danger – from himself. From his memories. Too much time alone with those memories messed with his head. At least Caro had given him something else to think about tonight. His hand went to his fly and he wondered if she'd have this effect on him when he was driving. He'd never tried driving with a hard-on before. It would be a new experience. Dell laughed. At least it was something new to contemplate. Better than trying to solve the mysteries of the universe, or dwelling on a past he couldn't change or a future that didn't exist.
Sweet Carolina is available from -AmazonBarnes & NobleSmashwords