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Day Twelve is here!

The end and the beginning.

No, it’s not quite as Biblical as that, but it has surprisingly (utterly surprised author
right here) worked out perfectly time wise, because…

Hard Wood, Soft Heart is out today!!!

Yes, you will no longer be forced to rely on my daily ramblings and teases for a taste of new Chloe Stowe
romance/smut/adventure/true love. You get the real deal now with no silly asides from the author. You, my friends, are the lucky ones.  I’ve got to live with the asides-thing 24/7… kind of like an extra toe. See how lucky you truly
are?

So, without further adieu…


Chapter Eleven: Creosote Bushes and Bearpoppies
 
“The key slipped into the lock with surprising ease. Saul was shaking so bad he had feared that he’d need some kind of back up just
to get into his door.” (page 162)

So we end with bearpoppies. How many multi-day teasing blogging events end with bearpoppies? You guys must have
a very eager leprechaun in your pocket. Luck is just raining down on you in four-leaf clovers.

I hope I’ve been able to bring a smile into your lives and perhaps a little insight too. Humbly, I ask you to consider adding Hard Wood, Soft Heart into your library. I really do think you’ll enjoy it. 

Well, until the next time we meet, please pick up a milkshake on your  way out. Any flavor you want, babe, you’ve got it.

Until next time,  everyone…

Chloe Stowe

 
Day Eleven arrives with the elusive Chapter Three tied, gagged and flung over
its shoulder. Yes, it did take a while for my mad skills (inside joke here,
folks) to realize that Chapter Three’s tease had been passed over. It was kind
of like one of those prison breaks where the inmate skips out with the laundry
truck and nobody notices that Prisoner #3 is missing until bed check. Oh yeah,
classic bad warden here. I apologize and will relinquish my billy stick
tomorrow. 

  Until tomorrow brings the end to the Twelve Days of
Hard Wood, Soft Heart
Spectacular, I think I’ll keep swinging my stick at my side and bask in my
delusion of grandeur until the very end. In keeping with said theme, I’ll have
the officers drag in Prisoner #3 right now (and if there’s any man-on-man, rough
and tumble“manhandling” going on in my facility, I expect all parties to take
detailed notes for a future novel)…

 Chapter Three: Animal Tactics


“Saul Tidewater’s resistance was dead in the water and starting to stink…”
(page 44)


Admittedly Prisoner #3 is a scrawny little fellow, but what he lacks in bulk
he makes up for in grit and gristle. 

  Well, folks, Prisoner #11 (yes, that would be Chapter 11. I am taking this
metaphor to the embarrassing end) is doing push-ups in his cell, getting ready
for tomorrow’s release. Luckily, the extra day #11 had to serve for bad behavior
has only resulted in a little extra ink on our man’s posterior. But since he is
bringing up the rear, it only fits that his end is a bit more colorful than even
I expected.

  Your visiting a prison, guys. All you’ve got for your refreshments is stale
bread and water… unless, of course, you’ve got a carton of cigs or some baseball
cards you’re looking to trade for?

  Until tomorrow…  

  Chloe Stowe

 
Day Ten arrives on the bus with the College Game Day crew. Yes, Tallahassee
is jumping this morning as ESPN and the University of Oklahoma come roaring into
town for tonight’s HUGE football game of #1 Oklahoma vs. #5 FSU ! Go Noles!

In this electric atmosphere of man on man tackles and beer and the
possibilities of celebratory sex with pom-poms and big foam Number One’s, I
think there is little window dressing left to be done for your Chapter Ten
tease…

 
Chapter Ten: Between the Polite and the Psychotic

 “It was a little like watching an old black and white movie stuck on pause.
The dark, broken silhouette was not moving.” (page 155)

  So, the plot thickens. I mean, really, was there ever any doubt? This is me
we’re talking about here, folks. 

  As an added bonus to all my loyal teaser-readers, I’d like to make the grand
announcement as to the title of my next novel, my 8th for Ravenous Romance… Are you ready?… Are you piqued
and pumped?… Are you fired up for the first Chloe Stowe story about a cop?…
Well, ready or not, Peak and Thrust will be here this November! 

  To celebrate my first foray into the world of shields, blue walls and hot
interrogations, I provide you today with coffee and doughnuts, two staples of
cop-land. 

  Only two more teases to go, guys! 

  Until tomorrow…

  Chloe Stowe

 
Day Nine.

It sounds like some kind of action/adventure/spy movie, doesn’t it? Probably starring Matt Damon, Morgan Freeman and perhaps in an odd bit of casting John Travolta as the president. Tossing in Cate Blanchett into any film is always a good move so we’ll give her the female lead. For my own personal consumption Ryan Gosling and Scott Caan will also have to be present. Believe me, their talents will be put to very good and very frequent use...

Yeah, ok, I have no idea where that little tangent sprouted from but let’s all just ignore it was ever there and move on like dear Ms. Stowe is actually sane. Agreed? Good.

As for your Day Nine tease, here it is…

               

Chapter Nine: The Irony of Sirens

                “Mercer knew the refuge like the back of his hand and would have no trouble driving out of there in the dark. Besides, he liked watching the million stars pop out of the dark heavens. When he had been a boy he had thought it was some kind of magic trick. He remembered his mother laughed when he’d told her that. He never told her anything like that again.” (page 134)

On the novel front, I sent back the final edits for this fine romantic masterpiece yesterday. Word on the street is that Hard Wood, Soft Heart should be out the middle of next week. Pardon me while I “Hooray!” Please feel free to join in. There’s naughty confetti in the bowl by the front door. But let’s be careful out there everybody. Nobody wants a metallic penis in their eye… at lease I don’t think anybody does. We’ll just assume not.

As for all of those looking for their through-the-keyhole peek at my rather screwed up life, here it is…

How do I decide what to buy at the grocery store? Simple. It all depends on two things.

One: my mental health of that shopping day. Yes, folks, it fluctuates more than the stock market so I never know until I wake up what I’ll be able to pull off normally that day. Cool, huh?

Two: where in the store the food is located. I’ve got to be having one darn good sane day to get me to the meat section. Frozen foods take too long to find what I’m looking for so they’re usually off my list. In fact anything that I don’t know where it is in the store is a no-no. Me wandering through the aisles is a bad, bad thing. Thankfully the produce and bread are usually fairly close to the door so they’re usually good to go. What I'm actually hungry for never has anything to do with it…

Fun stuff.

Oh yeah.

Ok, everybody’s head away from the keyhole for the day. I’ve got you some fresh produce on your way out today. Please pick up an apple, plum or watermelon and enjoy the few fruits that have somehow survived in the weeds of my insanity.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe Stowe

 
                As Day Eight arrives with the raindrops, I must apologize for Day Seven never reaching your airwaves. I am sorry to all of you who made the effort to drop by and found no one answering the door. As punishment the naughty half of myself is offering herself up for a spanking. The rest of me just hopes that I am forgiven and that two chapter teases in one day will help to soothe any sore feelings.  Yes, I am essentially bribing you with smut… hey, but if you’ve got to get bribed ain’t hot men and sex the way to go?

                Moving on quickly, I will not clog up any of your lives with my nonsensical brain matter today. Tomorrow, however, there will be no holds barred… It could get messy in here, folks. Just saying.

 
Chapter Seven: Behind Dusk’s Curtain

                “The weeks passed in a lazy rush of sex and longing… Their moments together during this time were tiny treasures in their own right… memories to hold to in the dark nights to come…” (page 115)

 
Chapter Eight: Under the Joshua Tree

                “The “if you die, I die” Saul left unsaid. He hadn’t come to accept that part yet himself. He wasn’t about to ask Mercer to do it first. (page 131)

                As you may have noticed, drama has apparently hit our young men and their love lives! I’d cut and paste in a drum roll here if I had any idea what I was doing. Alas, I do not and can only offer you a suspenseful silence to see you to tomorrow… of course, I can also offer you the New York style cheesecake sitting at the door. Please take a piece or two and enjoy your man-sex-cheesecake bribe.

                I hope to see you all back here for Day Nine!

                Until tomorrow (really, this time)…

Chloe Stowe

 
Good morning and welcome everyone to Day Six of the Twelve Day Hard Wood, Soft Heart Teaser Spectacular!

We’re half way there and to celebrate this monstrosity of self-promotion, silliness and smut a special surprise awaits you as you leave. No peeking!

To even out the silliness that was yesterday’s post I thought I’d give you all another glimpse into my world of crossed brain wires and brick walls. I hope this little window into my life doesn’t bore. It’s meant to encourage others in a similar situation and to enlighten those who are blessed not to know anything of which I speak. So here it goes –

My daily life is full of brick walls. Not just any ordinary brick walls either, but the kind that spring up out of literally nowhere and refuse to be torn down by prayer, explosive or tenacity. Let me give you an example…

One morning I wake up, get my sh*t together and head outside to my backyard deck with an orange juice in hand. I do it every day. I enjoy it, but I’ve never thought anything about it. Who would? Well, this one morning I put my hand on the knob of the back door and my mind simply refuses to allow me to turn it. There’s no explanation forthcoming from my head as to why I can no longer go out that door. I just simply can’t.

So like most of you, I tell myself “Just do it! Don’t think. You have to do it so do it.” Yeah, well, that doesn’t work. Next comes the logical approach, trying to think through the reasons why my mind might be balking about going out that door. Unfortunately I can find no reasons. Even when I’m able to perhaps catch a glimpse of a shadow of a possible reason to this stupidity, it doesn’t help. All the logic and common sense and coping mechanisms in the world doesn’t get that brick wall between me and the back door down. I’m literally, figuratively and physically stuck.

Yeah, I know. It sounds silly, ridiculous, funny even. But it’s not… at least not for the crazy girl on the wrong side of the brick wall. Sometimes when I’m standing there, I hate my mind – never my life but my mind I could really put a freaking beat down on my brain.

So what do I do, the curious reader might ask? Do I never go out my back door again? The answer is a painful “maybe.” Just as my brick walls are wont to pop up out of nowhere they occasionally start to crumble in their own inexplicable time.

Maybe in a few months, my brain will let me talk myself through that door.

Maybe it will be years.

Maybe it will be never.

So, the curious reader asks again, what do I do?

I go out the window.

I go in through the back gate.

I jump my fence with my orange juice in hand and spend my morning on my deck.

Simply, I find ways to get around the brick wall. I can’t tear it down but I am a darn good escape artist. I will usually get by it somehow. So pardon my scraped knuckles, my skinned knees, the spilled orange juice on my shirt. I’m just trying to live here. I’m just trying to get out that door.

Ok, on to the appropriately named sixth chapter of Hard Wood, Soft Heart

Chapter Six: Dirty Little Secret

“The road was bumpy. Saul didn’t mention that though. He figured it was fairly obvious. Besides, he really didn’t want to engage the man. Mercer was driving. It was definitely an inappropriate moment to play vacuum cleaner and suck the man’s brains out through his cock like a straw…” (page 96)

Now, for your surprise! After suffering through me and my brick walls, you have definitely earned a sneak peek at the cover for my seventh novel! So once the thunderous applause has died down to an excited murmur, you can check it out here…
http://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?fbid=212132328851213&set=a.106121559452291.9606.100001633419040&&theater

On your way out please help yourself to a handful of M&M’s. I think we all need the chocolate after that touch of mortar and brick insanity.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe Stowe

 
                As Day Five comes roaring into town on the back of a mid-September Monday, I think a nice rosy shot of romance is called for.

                I’m usually very careful with my more blatant shots of romance. You know, a little goes a long way, especially in the m/m world. Too much of it and it overwhelms the literary stew. The flavors and the unique tastes of each of the other ingredients can’t be compromised by such a strong spice or everything becomes a gooey mish-mash of daisies and cupids and hearts drawn on foggy windows… Honestly, not one of my men would be caught dead in such a fluffy pink casserole. 

                Don’t get me wrong. Fluffy pink casseroles have their places… just not usually in the mouths of alpha males.

                Personally, I like to imbibe my meal with romance in a more roundabout way. You know, in the staging. If we continue with the culinary allusions (and heck who doesn’t love a good culinary allusion?), I guess you’d say that I like to pick out a nice romantic pot for my men and their juices to stew in. I try to come up with situations that when two strong testosterone-filled characters are put in them they have no choice but to bubble up into delicious love. That way all their manliness is still there for us to nibble on, to swirl around in our mouths and massage with our tongues…

                Sorry. Culinary allusion was quickly slipping into naughtiness. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?...

Chapter Five: Gentle Obscenity

                “As one low, slow song bled away into the next, the men silently stared into each other’s eyes as if searching out and finding their place in the other’s soul.” (page 79)

                Yes, I do believe the mid-September Monday is a little more digestible with a helping of pink fluffy casserole. See? Not even Chloe Stowe can resist the taste of pure romance every once in a while.

                On your way out today, please grab a flute of chilled champagne. Enjoy those tiny bubbles everyone and make your Monday merry!

                Until tomorrow…

                Chloe Stowe

 
Day Four is here and it’s reflective.

On the anniversary of a day when so many “mere” mortals became heroes and so many loves were lost until heaven, I think I’ll just give you my daily teaser and let you get back to spending your day with your cherished ones be they family, friends, lovers or four-legged guardian angels….


Chapter Four: Sugar-Coated Damnation

“Mercer looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Personally, I think you rock the well and truly fucked look…”” (page 64)

               
Today, on your way out, please enjoy some beer in honor of the first Sunday of the NFL season!

Until tomorrow, God bless you…

Chloe Stowe

 
            Day Three has arrived on the coattails of a beautiful dawn. 

          On gorgeous days like this, my muse soars. I spend the hours trying to catch up with her, trying to capture the world she sees into words born on nervous fingers…

          In other words, I’m a bit shaky today. It happens… It happens a lot when I have family coming.

            One of the weirdest things about my brain and all its crossed wires is that excitement equals panic. The same buttons are pushed in my mind. It’s a lot like if every time on a bitterly cold winter’s day that you turn on the furnace or stoke the fire, all the fire alarms begin to blare and scream at you. All the sprinklers erupt, sending their cold, cold water onto your head, stunning you. No matter how many times it happens, no matter how many times you know it’s going to happen, there is just nothing to shield you from the icy water and the screeches of panic…

            Ok, apparently my muse has decided to fly into a hornet’s nest today. Pardon me if I choose not to follow her this time around.

            Instead, let me give you the Hard Wood, Soft Heart tease of the day. I hope you enjoy this little morsel and will come back again for another taste….


Chapter Two: Ghost Runners

             “Born in St. Louis on a wickedly hot July day, from the very beginning Mercer’s life had been about avoiding the things a man can’t change. Like the blazing hot weather that seemed to follow him around every summer of his childhood, he came to mutely accept the fact that his father only came to visit on the weekends and that his mother rarely smiled at anyone but her little boy…” (page 29)


            Today, I offer all my wonderful guests cotton candy and lemonade. Please grab a kite on your way out and soar with your own muse through the endless skies.

            Until tomorrow…

Chloe Stowe

 
Ahhh! Day Two breaks!

            Before we all surrender to the moment and weep, let’s recap a bit, shall we? 

            Day One (yesterday) brought the beginning of the “Twelve Days of Hard Wood, Soft Heart Teasing Your Toes Off Event.” Following a brief overview of what fans, friends and family (I’d like to say hello to my poodle who’s reading over my shoulder) could expect out of each day’s tease, the much anticipated synopsis of my seventh novel for Ravenous Romance was revealed.

In case you missed it, I magnanimously grant you time travel and you can head back to Day One right now. It’s ok. We’ll wait and maybe have some doughnuts while you zip yourself through the Chloe Stowe Wormhole.

A cautionary statement on travel in the CSW: Be careful how far you go back. My eighth grade poem which began with the lines, “There once was a boy / who had no joy / in going to school each day,” might damage brain cells. Just saying.

Now that everyone has rejoined us, shall we get down to business? Yes, I believe I see one hand raised out there in…I think… Kentucky, so Chapter One Tease is a go!...

 
Chapter One: Driven to Extinction

                “Saul Tidewater stood on the rooftop overlooking Las Vegas clinging to his heterosexuality by the skin of his teeth...” (page 1)


Once everyone get’s their breaths back, I’d like to point out that while my copy editor is still working fingers to the bone editing Hard Wood, Soft Heart there may in fact be some changes to the excerpts I’m sneaking to you. Take the page numbers with a grain of salt. They’re just there to give you some generalized marker as to where you are in the book. Wouldn’t want anyone getting lost.

In this case, however, I have it on good authority that this may very well be the opening line to the novel!  I know, I can hardly restrain myself either.

While Day Three percolates and steeps in my brain for tomorrow, I’d like to thank all of you for stopping by. I hope I was able to give you a smile and just maybe a giggle. Please, enjoy some hot chocolate before you go and, heck, grab another doughnut or two. This is all about indulgence anyhow. Why not have a little powdered sugar and sprinkles with our escapism? I won’t tell if you won’t. *smiles*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe Stowe