Crystal Jordan :: Blog

What do animal sex, writing soundtracks, and lesbian cartoons have in common?

You’ll have to go over to the Aphrodisia Authors blog to read my post and find out. Click here!

In the BDSM lifestyle, Catherine Lanyard is an extreme submissive with serious baggage. For years, she’s avoided her pain and hidden dark secrets. Now, an experienced Dom has broken through her barriers and forced her to face her fear. Sex was always a give and take for Justin Travers. He’d always kept his “lifestyle” practices separate from real life. But when Catherine blurs that boundary, he must decide what he really wants.

Buy it here

Today’s hump day hottie…is Mad Madam M’s new retro bike, Daisy.

Here she is, sexy and turquoise.

Check out the rear view. Work it like the rent is due. Yeehaw.

And here’s how Daisy got her name. Check the tats. Oh, baby.

Hey all!

I’m teaching like crazy this week, so I only have time for a quick update.

That’s all for now!

I’m over at The Novelty Girls today. Come visit!

Apparently, walking out of the library with Persnickety Hooch was bad luck this week. We were walking out to our cars again after work yesterday when I fell down cement stairs and landed on cement. It was rainy/icy out and I hit the step wrong and slipped. I’m okay, but my legs are pretty bruised and messed up, so I’m going to try to get some rest.

So… I might be scarce for the next few days and if you email, IM, PM, or try to contact me in any way up to and including sky writing and carrier pigeons, I might not get back to you right away.

Have a good weekend and wish me a speedy recovery because I have to be on my feet teaching all week next week. Ack!

The other day I was walking out of the library with the Persnickety Hooch, and we chatted by her car for a second before I went to mine so I could be home free for the day. Mind you, we’ve actually had a run of okay weather in the wintery north, so there’s patches of no snow on the ground. I had to walk over an island in the middle of the parking lot to get to my car, so I picked the least snowy/least muddy looking spot and tried to cross.

Danger, Will Robinson, danger!

So the island is at a slight downhill slope and not quite narrow enough to jump across. That means I have to take one step in the dirt to get safely to the other side.

Right. No problem. Uh huh.

I take that one step in the least snowy/least muddy spot.

And I sink straight down and start sliding through the muck. Oh, holy shit. I made an awkward, desperate kind of bouncy leap to the other side.

And my shoe doesn’t come with me. It made a sickening suction noise, but it was firmly embedded in the sludge. I also don’t make the other side, so my sock goes into the mud, too.

I turn, standing on the cement ledge surrounding the island and stare at my shoe with my mouth hanging open. So there I am in the middle of the parking lot, hovering on one foot and hurrying to rip my filthy sock off so it doesn’t seep through and get my foot yucky, too.

Meanwhile the Persnickety Hooch is staring at me with a dumbfounded expression on her face like she can’t believe I just did all this in the five seconds since we stopped talking. She asks if I’m okay as I reach down to extract my poor shoe from the ick, and I just hold it up for her to see.

Then I put the shoe on with no sock and gather what little remained of my dignity for the short walk to my car. I can only say, thank God I had nowhere else to go that day but home…and I have never been more grateful that I put rubber floor mats down in my car so I didn’t get crap all over my carpet.

I won’t bother to describe how much fun it was to clean my shoe, but it was kind adding insult to injury at that point.

And in solidarity with my favorite show, Supernatural, here’s a funny snip in which Sam lost his shoe, too. I think I made the same pouting face that he does at the end.

I sold a werewolf menage novella to Samhain Publishing! It’s called Total Eclipse of the Heart and is a completely overhauled version of Twice in a Blue Moon–with more than double the length. It should be fun. Here’s the blurb.

When Lena walks into the Eclipse bar, she turns Rachel’s world inside out. She’s a werewolf who scents her mate, and nothing will stop her from claiming what’s hers.

Rachel has always assumed that when she mated with Jerrod she’d never know another lover, despite her longing for both men and women. No werewolf would be unfaithful. Ever. She’s terrified of how the man she loves will react when he finds out the instincts that drew her to him five years ago now pull her to another woman.

What’s a werewolf to do when she finds her soulmate twice? It’s a total eclipse of the heart.

Heeeeere’s Johnny.

It’s amazing what the internet can do for us. And a little scary.

So, I’m on MySpace (if you’re not my friend yet, click here) and a year ago, I listed the schools I’ve attended (all million of them. Hello, grad school). I admit I browsed through the people who went to my high school, saw many of them were still in the area I grew up in, and thought nothing of it (also spotted the unrequited crush. Everyone needs one of those, right? He’s still hot, too. Damn I have good taste).

I told you that story to tell you this story (if you recognize that line, you might be a redneck). I got a friend request from a girl I went to high school with saying we should catch up. We generally hung out in the same crowd and she was always really nice to me. Considering it was high school (which SUCKED majorly) and I was and always have been The Fat Girl and The Nerd, that’s saying something.

The slightly stalkeresque thing is, while I’m hooked into my high school network, I’m listed under a pen name and my avatar is the yummy cover for Treasured. So she had to not only click on the random avatar, but then click on my pictures to find out it was me. Knowing that made me feel slightly less icky when I perused her MySpace page and looked through her pictures to see what she’s been up to for the last decade. (And she’s a lawyer, y’all. Whodathunkit?) I sent her a message about how I agreed we should catch up, asked how she’s been, and tried to be slightly witty. She hasn’t responded. Now, I’m like, maybe I wasn’t funny enough or my wittiness fell flat on its face, maybe law school sucked out her sense of humor, maybe I’m too lame to even respond to and I suck (because it’s not like she could be busy or have a life or anything).

Holy shit, I’m back in high school insecurity hell.

Then I realized I’m rolling up my ten year reunion and felt old. Sheesh.

(And if you’re reading this Nettie…HI!)