I crank Sirius Octane when I'm solo cause I dig my sex/drugs/oral sex/rockaroll/more oral sex and drug-induced angst hard core. But shockingly enough, I've never been cool.

Actually, while I'm a little P.O.D., I'm a whole lot more NPR. Like, I love "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me," and "Whad'ya Know?"

Both shows have a kinda quizzy thing goin on, and "Wait, Wait" even has an "all-star" panel that helps listeners play q and a games.

One unfortunately memorable show has, if memory serves, journalist P.J. O'Rourke nationally lampooning, if you will, romance fiction by noshing on the juicy young placed before him by the genre itself. Wasn't really Peej's fault; the host just wanted to know what catapulted silly ol' romance (not-really) writers into the national media kliegs for 15 mins that week...

Anyhoo, bet what ya didn't know is that "Wait, Wait" panelist, Adam Felber, actually is the son of crown princess of romance, Edith Layton! Yep. And, not only is Edith's Restoration-set "Fire-Flower" on my short list of most bestest historicalses ever, she's got a terrif new marriage-of-convenience read out, "A Bride for His Convenience." See how well the titlesmiths at Avon help you figure out the theme of the story? Niiice.

Layton pens an elegant little novel, and she's at her best when she's rockin' the straight-forward hero who's fairly self-absorbed and doesn't understand he's cruel in his kindness and impeccable honor. And, oh, it hurts so good! Especially when the heroine is smart and practical, but wants a shot at the love and giddy passion we all believe in. Every. One. Of. Us.

What would be at the top your your short list of best historicals ever?  --and--
What kind of radio do you dig?
***
Encore!  Buckcherry's "Too Drunk to F*** You" is one of my aural-trainwreck-of-a-guilty-pleasure tracks.  There's a Parental Advisory on this vid. So, for gawd's sake, do NOT let your parents watch this filthy trash.

Get your Holiday Spirit on with Cathy Maxwell and Me!

Listen LIVE 2:00 pm ET Tomorrow, 11.20, at AuthorsOnAir.com

Call in at 347.826.9686 w/questions and listen over the phone - or --

Join the blog chat at AuthorsOnAir.com . Your boss'll think you're such a worker bee.

No Turkeys GuestBlog Week:
11.24 Lauraine Snelling
11.25 Jenna Black
11.26 Robyn Carr
11.28 Pamela Clare
Plus...Annual GTFRD (Give Thanks for Romance Days) 11.27, 29,30
And...Dec 1 Eloisa and Squawk Friends; Dec 3 Eve Silver; Dec 5 Lori Foster and anthology friends; Dec 8 Diana Cosby; Dec 11 Anna Campbell

From Michelle: I love Wendy Corsi Staub, especially because she's Italian. I mean, say, "Watch the tram car please," and her eyes don't glaze over; she knows a Jersey Shore-ism when she hears one. Anyways, she writes some damn fine thriller and women's fiction and YA (Lily Dale series) and, as you'll note, some damn fun blog. Please give Wendy your warmest, "T.G.I. M.onday with a girl who understands boy toys" Bella buongiorno...

From Wendy Corsi Staub: I write books for a living. How lucky am I? Believe me, I never forget it; I'm pinch-me grateful every day of my life. I write not about royalty or movie stars, wizards or dragons, but about women to whom I can relate. Women juggling husbands and kids or ex-husbands and custody battles. Women who buy canned Betty Crocker frosting and wear drugstore pantyhose and steal a few french fries before passing the Happy Meal into the back seat.

Ordinary women like you and me.

I can't tell you how many ordinary women have confessed to me that reading my books is their "guilty pleasure." Hearing that always gives me pleasure-and, okay a vague sense of guilt, having unwittingly played a corruptive role in some stranger's life. Oops.

What do you think of when you hear the phrase "Guilty Pleasure"?

Dooney and Bourke?
Cigarettes?
Leaving the kids with the nanny and jetting off to Rio with a smoldering boy toy named Carlos?

First thing I think of is Tori Spelling and her husband Dean Mc-Something-or-other. Awhile back, I heard myself apologetically explaining to someone that I had never missed an episode of their reality show, "Inn Love." (Now known as "Home Sweet Hollywood." Yes, I know these things. Yes, I, too, think that's scary.) 

Funny--Tori and Dean appear not to suffer a smidgeon of guilt despite having left their spouses (not to mention his children) for each other parade around in all their lovey-dovey homewrecker glory on a weekly reality show, while I am consumed by guilt for merely Tivoing the damned thing. 

I'm sure many people would-if they consider Tori and Dean: Inn Love an actual pleasure-think of it as a guilty one. But recently, I realized that it's not just bad reality TV that falls into the Guilty Pleasure category for me. It's good TV, too.

It's also bad-for-me food. And it's good-for-me food if it's way overpriced, or if I am being wined and dined by a publisher while my husband and kids are home in the suburbs eating Kraft Mac and Cheese (never mind that they all prefer Kraft Mac and Cheese to my fancy restaurant menu faves: exotic vegetables and grilled fish).

I often question my indulgence-not necessarily over-indulgence, mere indulgence alone will do it for me-in shopping malls, cabernet, solving Ted Casablancas blind items, taxicabs, ‘80s music, concierge level hotel rooms, credit cards, babysitters, Facebook, plastic grocery bags, leather, exercising, relaxing, Poland Spring, salt, magazines, sleeping...

Yes, sleeping. Sleeping too early in the evening, sleeping too late in the morning, sleeping through the chick flick I made my husband watch with me...

What's your favorite guilty pleasure...
and how often do you indulge?
***

Join Michelle this Thursday LIVE at AuthorsOnAir.com when she dishes with Cathy Maxwell!  Be part of the fun; call in w/ your comments and questions.  (Dec 4, Michelle and Eloisa James get their dish on at AoA!)

No Turkeys GuestBlog Week: 
11.24 Lauraine Snelling
11.25 Jenna Black
11.26 Robyn Carr
Plus...Annual GTFRD (Give Thanks for Romance Days) 11.27-30
And...Dec 1 Eloisa and Squawk Friends; Dec 3 Eve Silver; Dec 5 Lori Foster and anthology friends.

 

CONTEST TODAY!!!  10 randomly chosen commenters each win a Harlequin Kimani tote packed with books 'n goodies!  Plus: One RCC wins a complete set of acclaimed Braddocks miniseries books.  Rules here.

From Michelle: It's an honor to welcome to myLifetime and RBTB today the talented authors from Harlequin's Kimani Romance line led by the delightful Pamela Yaye and ab fab Kimani Sr. Editor, Kelli Martin.  Join the dish, make new girlfriends and get to know some romance you didn't know you were missing.  Please offer the women of Kimani your warmest "African American romance spotlight?  Why, it's not even February!" Bella buongiorno...

From Pamela: She said, and I quote, "Romance novels are so unrealistic." Hair flip, eye roll, snort. "The main characters are sleeping together in chapter one, in love by chapter two and married by chapter four. Who writes this stuff anyway?"

Um...I do. My smile stayed in tact, but I was thinking, "What has this chick been reading???"  I've been sneaking off to read romance novels since I was fourteen (please don't tell my parents! I was supposed to be reading my bible, not Brenda Jackson!) and though I've read some novels that left me scratching my head, I like nothing better than diving into a book with engaging characters, clever banter and big, BIG, endings.

When fellow readers ask me to recommend a really great book, I always say, "You can never go wrong with Sandra Kitt, Rochelle Alers or Donna Hill." These women really know how to deliver. And all three of these African-American romance pioneers write for Kimani Romance. Impressive, huh?

I read romance novels for the fantasy, the escape, for inspiration (my husband is a very, very happy man!) and I suspect a lot of women do too. I know I'm not the only one out there who loves to read about over-the-top romantic gestures, first kisses and steaming, hot love scenes. I am a very sensual person and I have the "Cosmo" subscription, Motown CDsS, and copies of the "Kama Sutra" to prove it! What's wrong with knowing what you want and speaking up for yourself? Isn't that what the women's movement was about? Standing up and being heard?

But I digress. Let me get back to my conversation with Ms. Anti-Romance. The discussion continued and the more I listened to girlfriend talk, the more convinced I was that she was reading the wrong books! Kimani Romance features strong, intelligent heroines and successful, oh-so-fine heroes who fall in love despite the obstacles they face on their journey to happily ever after.

I have yet to read a wham-bam-thank-you-mam' love story within the Kimani Romance line and I read a lot. I'm talking Oprah Winfrey type numbers. (Okay, a bit of an exaggeration, but you get my point)!

I'm proud to say I write for Kimani Romance and aside from Ms. Anti-Romance, I've had nothing but positive feedback and glowing reviews about the line. Kimani Romance features very realistic but likeable characters. Regular, flawed people like you and me.

Take the hero in my latest book, "Love T.K.O.," for example. Rashawn "The Glove" Bishop is the first to admit he's made some mistakes. As a kid growing up in Tampa's poorest neighborhood, he was easily lured to the streets, ran with the wrong crowd and was on the fast track to a life of crime. But a teacher took pity on him when he was a teen and introduced him to the world of amateur boxing. Rashawn never looked back.

On the other hand, Dr. Yasmin Ohaji has lived a charmed life. A caring, supportive family, a thriving practice, a band of gregarious, fun-loving girlfriends. After the devastating loss of her fiance, she became consumed with work and activities in the community. Expanding her business and making a difference in the lives of inner-city children is all that matters now. Yasmin Ohaji has it all. Well, everything except true love. A soulmate. Someone she can trust and depend on.

Enter, Rashawn Bishop.

Sounds intriguing, doesn't it? That's what Ms. Anti-Romance said too! 

"Rashawn sounds like my kind of man," she confessed, her hazel eyes wide and dreamy. "I'll have to check this Kimani line out."

To ensure that she does, I told her a few more juicy tidbits about Rashawn and Yasmin's story. No, they don't end up in bed in chapter one, or three or even ten, but when it finally does happen, she'll be fanning her face and licking her lips because it's sensual, meaningful and intense. Everything a good romance book should be.

Now it's your turn. Weigh in here! Have romance novels become more or less realistic? What are the things that make all romance novels great, no matter the ethnicities of the characters, readers or writers?  -and- Do you think that everyone has a soulmate or is that a bunch of Hollywood mumbo-jumbo crap?

Go on, ladies, be heard. We're listening...

Joining me today is my very cool editor, Senior Kimani Editor, Kelli Martin and three other incredible, Kimani Romance authors. Brenda Jackson, "The Object of his Protection" (November 2008) Angie Daniels, "The Player's Proposal," (November 2008) and Elaine Overton, "Seducing the Matchmaker," (November 2008).

I'm a newbie -- and EVERYONE knows New York Times Bestselling author Brenda Jackson -- but Angie Daniels has published 20+ books and Elaine Overton's been writing since she penned her first love poem in seventh grade!

Now that everyone's been formerly introduced, let's talk romance!!!

In this exclusive ExtraView, editor Kelli Martin gives Michelle the d.l. on why African American romance rocks everybody's fantasy world -- in living color!

Do fantasies of romance readers who are African American differ from readers who aren't?

Not so much, says Kelli Martin, and she should know. Martin is Senior Editor of Harlequin's Kimani Romance line of series romances which feature characters and authors who are African American.

"One thing we do a little differently at Kimani is listen to readers," says Martin. "Our Kimani readers always want some dose of reality with their fantasy."

Does that mean more "traditional" category romance story lines read voraciously by millions of women, don't work for the Kimani line? According to Martin, not really.

"Popular ‘sheik' books, for instance, hearken back to the heroine being a little more passive than in real life, which plays into a wonderful fantasy for many, many women," says Martin. "But I don't think that's the fantasy of contemporary African American readers. There may be a hint of drama in the heroine's family, or experience with racism; reality is much more prevalent in our books than in others, and on purpose."

Yet Kimani romances aren't about prejudice and racism, or slavery and discrimination. Martin says it's important that readers new to Kimani books simply get set for a "universal" love story anybody who loves romance novels can relate to.

"There's very little about Kimani romances that only a black person could understand," says Martin. "They're just terrific love stories where characters happen to be African American, and all the richness that goes along with that."

But does that richness include heroes who make any woman's heart beat faster? Well, only if you like a guy who's very strong, determined and caring, is also wealthy with security, and contributes positively to his community.

"The Kimani hero is confident, sometimes arrogant," Martin states. "But anything that even hints of violence toward women does not happen."

Series romance takes lots of heat for alleged violence toward "weak" heroines in need of saving. Yet the Kimani heroine must be independent, self-reliant and as devoted to her career as she is to finding love. She doesn't need to be saved financially.

And she surely holds her own. Martin says Kimani authors are very conscious of the balance of power between their heroes and heroines.

"In terms of the moderate-to-high levels of sensuality in Kimani," says Martin, "if the hero is very aggressive sexually in one scene, you'd best believe the heroine will be aggressive in the next."

Strong heroines and passionate love scenes are hallmarks of Kimani romances. But so are empowerment and family unity. Martin says Kimani tries to find creative ways to bring these themes to readers, including stand-alone books that are related by theme or characters.

"'Readers really love our current Braddocks' series about a Kennedy-esque political family," says Martin.  "We're looking forward to bringing Kimani fans a new series like it every year." 

Martin says simply that she'd love readers to give Kimani romance a try.

"An African-American couple on the cover is just the beautiful start. It's what's inside - really sophisticated, passionate love stories -- that makes us all feel the same when we read it."

When he'd kissed her, he'd tasted anger. And surprise. She hadn't wanted to kiss him, but that flaring instant had incinerated every one of his doubts and dissatisfactions. Even the dull, constant ache of old grief and old guilt had briefly faded. Only with the greatest difficulty had he forced himself to stop after that one searing kiss.

By then her fate was sealed. He would have her. She alone could offer him surcease.
He wanted to kiss her again. Straightening, he prowled across the rich red and blue Turkish carpet. She tensed as though scenting a predator.

"My lord, I told you my rules about this house." Her fingers curled against the desk's wooden lip. How delightful that she was nowhere near as self-possessed as she wanted him to think. It made him feel less helpless against the inexorable pull of attraction.

His approach didn't slow. "I can wait until tomorrow night for...satisfaction." He almost purred the last word. "But perhaps a kiss on account?"

Her chin's defiant angle was unmistakable. "I should have outlined my requirements in a lover more fully this afternoon."

"I'm all ears, madam," he whispered. Very deliberately, he placed each hand on the desk next to each of hers. He wasn't touching her but his body created a cage around her. "You have my complete attention."

Without a hint of a blush, she glanced down to where his erection strained against his trousers. She was no innocent, his mistress. He liked that. He'd been innocent once and the tragedy of it had left him broken and ruined.

She was on edge and unsure and he liked that too. He fought the urge to press himself against her. This close, he smelled her skin's delicate perfume. Lilies. Roses. Honey. Something warm and female that came from her and not a glass vial. His nostrils flared as he drew that delicious fragrance deep into his lungs.

"I don't kiss, Lord Erith." Her voice lowered and the husky contralto vibrated in his bones. "At least not on the mouth."

He leaned forward to catch another wash of her scent. Oh, she was glorious, this woman. "You'll kiss me."

Her mouth formed a stubborn line. "No, I won't. This, my lord, is how I conduct my liaisons. My time is my own, I'm completely faithful and I don't kiss."

He was an inch from tasting the creamy skin of her neck. A tendril of hair had broken free of the severe hairstyle. He reached to brush the stray lock aside. She stiffened under his touch.

"So many rules, Olivia," he murmured. "Rules are made to be broken."

"Not mine." She strove to sound forbidding but her unsteady voice betrayed her. He was close enough for her breath to brush across his face. He caught a hint of rich brandy and tobacco. "If my requirements seem onerous, it's not too late to cancel our arrangement."

"Now, that would be a pity." He let his fingers drift to her nape. "When I've taken such trouble over you."

He bent and placed his mouth fleetingly on her neck. Her skin was so soft there, like living silk. The honey in her scent left a sweet flavor on his tongue. She was exquisite. He couldn't remember wanting a woman more. His heart kicked into a pounding gallop.

Just one taste. Although the desire raging in his blood urged him to devour her whole. He raised his head and looked into her guarded whisky-colored eyes. Her lips were slightly parted, hinting at hot darkness within, and he heard the faint puff of her breath. His fingers tightened in the soft hair at the base of her skull.

"I've never kissed a woman wearing trousers. The decadence is rather stimulating."

He watched that slender throat move as she swallowed. "You're not going to kiss a woman wearing trousers now. I told you, I don't kiss on the mouth. I can't believe you mistake my wishes."

"Ah, your wishes, Olivia. I look forward to hearing more about those." He smiled as his pleasure in her mounted along with his arousal. "I'll have you to myself tomorrow night. What harm a sample now so I wander home with sweet dreams?"

In her remarkable eyes, he caught a flash of something that might have been fear. The thought nagged at the edges of his mind but not enough to stop him. Be damned to her rules. Somehow she'd hoodwinked every man in London into dancing to her tune. But he was the Earl of Erith. No woman snatched the lead from him as he waltzed her into his bed.

He pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were sweet and soft. And firmly closed. It was like having the gates to heaven slammed in his face.

Well, there were more paths into paradise than the one through the front door.

From "Tempt the Devil," by Anna Campbell. Copyright 2009.

Buy the book

*Kimani Authors GuestBlog Tomorrow
w/ a super-big contest from Harlequin!  

As we used to say back in college, "It's all about relaxing the throat."

Which would have been my advice to NY Times bestseller Cindy Gerard when we hooked up back in Minnesota Saturday night to catch the infamous Chippendales show with her fellow Riding with the Top Down bloggers, some old pals and Bella Amyskf (who's celebrating A Milestone Birthday this month).

So, while we're watching slicked-up mens in various states of undress -- and synchronization -- strut, gyrate and simulate awfully brisk masturbatory technique with their neck gear, Cindy admits that she couldn't work up her shy, little Iowayan nerve to ask me how to pronounce my last name.

She could, apparently, work up her nerve to count out dollar bills like some damn demented bank teller, then select which pair of BVDs to digitally enhance w/ said dead prezzies. But I digress.

Anywayz, Cindy demurely and with no little amount of chagrin confesses to me in front of our group that she's sorry and mortified, but in order to remember the rhythm of how to say my name, she learned to rhyme Buonfiglio with - please, oh, please brace yourselves -

Fellatio.

Now, I've heard my name pronounced lots of wild ways and don't much care how you say it. But never, ever, in the 16 years since I slapped the thing on my license have I ever been so inordinately...flattered!!!

I mean, what could possibly make me happier than having my name coupled with anything smacking of the least tasty hint of something related to my most favoritest of all male appendageses?! Which I told the group. One of whom I heard say to another, "Is she serious? Or is she just trying to make Cindy feel better?"

Far as I'm concerned, Cindy's my hero, and her tribute to the Buonfiglio moniker capped off my night of "watching the watchers," about a thousand of my fellow sisters packed into a casino auditorium, many of whom, apparently, don't mind responding with a raucous, alcohol-induced rebel ‘hell yeah' holla when the Chippendales' announcer asked, "Are there any horny ladies in the house tonight?"

Did I join in that holla? Well, let's just say that the whole show had me thinking just one thing: Oh, how I wish this were the boy-on-boy version of the Chippendales review.

Cause that's the Chippendales I wanna see. Or at least fantasize about. Well, actually fantasized about during the show. Except for during that one strobe-soaked scene with the lanky-hot ‘businessman' bringing himself to completion atop the simulated big-screen TV. I know a couple straight guys that one woulda put over the top on the size of the tube alone.

Alas, there was no boy-on-boy to behold on-stage, so I was left to soothe my ragged nerves in the prihvacy of my room after the show with a worthy substitute, Kate Pearce's "Simply Sinful," the righteously raw follow up to her yummy "Simply Sexual" (Regency House of Pleasure series).

Thankfully, Kate gives nothin' but boy-on-boy for the first three chaps - very cheeky of her - as she reintroduces Peter Howard who served as a Turkish sex slave for years along with "Simply Sexual" hero, Valentin Sakorvsky. Peter's pretty much had it with the steady diet of sex for sex's sake, as well as being only an occasional part of Valentin's and his new wife's marriage bed.

Lord James Beecham provides a little sumthin' more in the form of some sweet n' savage hook-ups and a proposition: Will Peter teach James to make love to James' wife, Abby, so he can give her the baby she desperately craves? And can Peter please use James' wild attraction to Peter to help James rev up his desire to bed Abby in the first place?

"Simply Sinful' could be just a m/f/m funfest - not that there'd be anything wrong with that. But it turns out to be quite the intimate primer for individuals understanding their capacity to love, to give selflessly w/in sexual relationships and, more important, to accept their limitations in both areas.

Pearce gives us a very erotic treat while offering a view of folks whose sexualities are fluid and voracious, whose commitments are clear cut and complete and whose choices to love, when made, are as forever as the next "traditional" couple's.

While there's nary a cuffed ‘n collared dancing boy to be found in "Simply Sinful," I simply must give it a "hell yeah' holla of my own.

And, by the by? It's Bahn-FEEL-ee-oh. Like fallatio, wrap your lips around it when you say it, and for the ‘gl' part of Buonfiglio, keep the throat and tongue relaxed.

Just like we used to say back in college.

I'm reading the BEST new book from Jennifer Ashley, "The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie!" (May 09 - first in a - yay! - 4-book series) I've been waiting on it since last spring. The hero? Aristodude with Aspergers Syndrome. And I don't mean some trumped-up tragic figure or stylized goofy freak-show version from movies or TV. I'm talking a virile, brilliant guy w/in whom Ashley captures the very real challenges, charming quirks and amazing special gifts of folks who have symptoms of Aspergers.

How does a guy who's a little weak on the social graces and who's not got much of a ‘filter' work out as a hero in the sexy dept? Let's just say he does dirty and hot like he don't even know he got the mad skills.

Sigh.

 

...I really may be reading too many romance novels.

What does it take to get you to that point? What does it mean to you?

***
Kimani Authors GuestBlog Thursday
with a super-big contest from Harlequin!

***

Thursday's also RBTB Newsletter Day! Check it out for an Exclusive Sneak Peek at Anna Campbell's "Tempt the Devil!" Anna GuestBlogs Dec. 11.