A few weeks ago, I bought a pink T-shirt with “honeyfuggle” written right across the front in big friendly letters. I have a honeyfuggled bust.

“Honeyfuggle? I hear you ask. “What’s a honeyfuggle when it’s home?”

I’m not going to tell you straight up because I’d like you to roll the word around your mouth. I love the subliminal associations sounds and syllables make in our minds. I bet you have some ideas already! Honeyfuggle always sounds a bit naughty to me. But that could just be my dirty mind. *whistles innocently*

My other favourite shirt from this company says “wordnerd“. I like that one so much, I’ve almost worn it out. And before you ask, they don’t sell online and I only see them at this particular festival, from year to year. Very frustrating.

I wanted to buy bibacious for My Beloved, but unfortunately it didn’t come in a size big enough, which seems a little foolish when you consider what the word means. Fond of drinking. My Beloved loves his wine.

Here a few others:

• slubberdegullion ~ a slobbering or dirty fellow; a worthless sloven.
• blatherskite ~ a blustering, talkative fellow.
• graphospasm ~ writer’s cramp.
• tatterdemalion ~  a person in tattered clothing; a ragged or beggarly fellow; a ragamuffin.

As for honeyfuggle, what sort of visions did the word conjure in your mind?  Something sweet and a bit wicked? Or perhaps you saw Winnie the Pooh with his hunny pot.

Would you wear a T-shirt with honeyfuggle printed on the front? Or on the back for that matter? What about wordnerd? Or any arcane/archaic word?

Do you have a favourite T-shirt, and if so, what does it say?

And the meaning? Honeyfuggle is a verb. To honeyfuggle someone is to deceive, dupe, swindle or wheedle.

With honeyed words. See?

Did you guess?

Here are the winners from our “cover” blog with artist James Griffin.

Drum roll please…

Jenny G. ~~~wins the signed ARC of The Flame and the Shadow, plus an oversized colour postcard.

Caitlin H. ~~~wins the $20 Borders Gift Card.

Congratulations, ladies! Email me - deniserossetti @ gmail. com (no spaces) with your snail mail details.

NOTE: I’ll hold the prizes for a fortnight before I redraw the prize/s.

      I don’t know what writers would do without the creative genius of cover artists like James Griffin. Use a plain brown wrapper with a stick figure on it? You can imagine how thrilled I was to see Jim’s magnificent painting for The Flame and the Shadow. In fact, I came over all teary.

      Yes, I know how important the cover is for that first impression in the bookstore, but my emotional reaction was because Jim had actually portrayed the character of Cenda, the fire witch, the way I’d imagined her. What a beautiful gift to give an author - and no mean feat, believe me!

      He had all the details right for a start - the salamanders (look carefully, there are three), the red in her hair, the despair in her face. Perfect!

      I simply couldn’t imagine how he’d done it, so I did the obvious thing and asked.

And you can too! In fact, we’ll be choosing two lucky commenters - one for a signed ARC of The Flame and the Shadow and another for a $20 Borders gift card. Questions? Comments? Go for it! You get to satisfy your curiosity and enter the contest - all in one fell swoop.

1. Your covers are true works of art, but thinking about the combination of processes involved makes my head spin. Would you explain how you do it, please? Step by step!

I really appreciate hearing that bit about my covers. It’s what I strive for and it’s wonderful to hear !I do most my covers now on the computer and that’s been the case for about twelve years or so. Up until the big change, I did all my work in oils on canvas or wood panels, often shipping the paintings in specially made packing off to the publisher with the paint still wet! The process took about a month from the time I received a manuscript, sketched out some ideas, waited for approval, sketched some more, set up and did a photo shoot with models in New York, waited for the pictures to be processed, drew up the image on my board, painted it and sent it off. Changes to the painting were few, because the process of shipping the art back and forth took so much time and it was very hard to make major changes to the finished oil painting.

Since the computer crashed onto the scene, many of those processes have been eliminated. I frequently get assignments with a week to finish them in. No physical art gets sent back and forth, there’s no waiting for pictures to be processed, etc. But strangely, changes have become more frequent and more extensive.

So here’s how I go about creating a cover now.

After receiving the usual one paragraph concept with the hero’s and heroine’s hair colors, costumes and settings, I will do what I call a “shoot sketch”. It’s a rough representation of what the cover will look like with the figures roughed in. All around the border of the sketch I add notes about lighting, costume touches, mood and action notes for the models. A shoot is set up at my favorite studio, Shirley Green’s in New York and models are chosen. I usually do a costume sketch for my costumer, Sharon Spiak.  The shoot usually takes an hour, unless there are several scenes, but in any case we have to work incredibly fast. This is one of my favorite parts of the process, directing the photo session and at its best it’s like directing a combination of modern dance and a silent movie.

It is almost impossible to get exactly what was in mind, when faced with the reality of being on the set. What I strive for is capture as close as possible to the spirit and look I’m after, being open to letting wonderful surprises happen. Sometimes I throw out my preconceived idea a just go with what’s happening, because it’s better!

Once I have the dvd full of pictures, I use all the skills I learned in painting, plus the computer techniques that have become my paintbox to turn it all into a finished cover. Starting with the photo, I re-sculpt the bodies and faces, sometimes taking parts from one shot and combining them with another, redrawing faces, bodies, hair and costumes, adjusting the colors to push the whole thing towards my vision of what it should be. Once It is all working together and I’m satisfied with the composition, then I “paint” all over it!

It’s not real paint of course, but digital paint. I use a pen tablet, which has a pressure sensitive tip and can be loaded with an infinite range of colors and textures, to do what I used to do with oils and play with the image. This is my other favorite part of the process and I can get really expressive.

With Denise’s cover, The Flame and the Shadow, this part of the painting became essential to bringing out the fiery eroticism in her story.

2. How much information do publishers give you and how prescriptive are they?

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I absolutely love storms - thunder, lightning, the huge weight of purple storm clouds, that weird colour the sky goes, the tight hush before it hits, as if the whole world is holding its breath.

As long as I’m not too wet or cold, I’m energised by the elemental power of it. In Norse legend, the long rumble of thunder is the gods playing bowls in the heavens. I love to think of that.

Where I live, we get a lot of afternoon thunderstorms, especially in summer. Yesterday’s was a beauty.  I was out walking with a friend by the river in the centre of the city and the light was extraordinary, a sort of luminous green-yellow, which sounds disgusting, but the effect was like a brilliant Renaissance painting by an absolute master.

We watched it stride toward us down the river, giving us time to shelter in a riverside restaurant, outdoors, but still under cover. The water went this amazing pewter colour and the skyscraper windows lit up like they were neon. There was not one rainbow, but two. Rainbows always make me smile.

None of these images are of my city, BTW. They’re just to get you in the mood. I wish I’d had a camera with me!

It made me remember that when my kids were very small, they were a little frightened of storms. I have such a clear memory of sitting with them on the bed, all cuddled up and safe, watching the trees whip about as the storm approached out of the west. They were never frightened after that. In fact, when they were little older, I bundled them up and we went out walking in a huge downpour.The storm had brought down the power lines and we had no electricity at home anyway. We found the power guys up a cherry-picker fixing the line and stood on the corner in the rain watching for ages. They must have thought we were nuts.

I just wish I could do the same for the dog. Poor old thing, I’m never going to convince her. She’s so terrified, she goes clean out of her canine mind. She ran away in a thunderstorm once and it took us a hideous week to find her. She’d run six kilometres and across two four lane highways. I feel so sorry, but no comfort is enough and we don’t like to reassure her too much or she’s even more convinced the sky is about to fall on her furry head.

Are you actively exhilarated by storms, like me? Or do you think of the destruction and discomfort? The hail damage to your car?The flooding in the basement?

If you’ve discovered some way of calming your dog/s, I’d love to know about it. We find doggy valium (from the vet) helps, but we have to time it perfectly, giving it to her before the storm hits or she’s too frightened to eat even the best treat. *sigh*

It used to be that if I wanted flowers, I had to produce a baby. The level of commitment required did seem a little high, I always thought.

These days,  things are much better. There’s a lovely bunch of carnations and roses on my dressing table. My Beloved now remembers that I like purple flag iris and smelly things for the bath and orange-flavoured chocolate.

So take heart!  A hotel company did a survey of 2000 men aged 18 to 65 which found that men aged 53 are at their most romantic.  Aw…

• Fifty-three-year-olds are much more likely to surprise their partner with a simple gesture such as a walk in the summer rain or a sprinkle of rose petals in the bath. This is also the time they tend to splash out on chocolates, flowers and perfume.

• Of the 20- to 25-year-olds surveyed, only one in four said they had recently treated their loved one to a candlelit dinner compared with almost half of the over-50s.

• The study also found a third of the over 50s have recently surprised their partner with champagne compared with just 19 per cent of men in their 20s.

• An affectionate 73 per cent of older men said they told their partners they looked beautiful all the time and 85 per cent wouldn’t leave the house without kissing their loved one goodbye.

Surprised? Do you think men get better with age, like a good wine? Or do they just become more set in their ways? Like glue. 

Dear ones, I’m blogging RIGHT NOW with the lovely Romance Bandits.  Another opportunity to WIN a signed ARC copy of THE FLAME AND THE  SHADOW!

http://romancebandits.blogspot.com/

We’re talking about the HERO DIMENSION, where all the hunky ones hang out.

See you there!

It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 12

Pairs of Possibilities

The story so far:
Four of Jack’s pirate band step out of the jungle – big Duka, blond Peter, the brooding Harley and a gorgeous oriental specimen, Chan. The air positively vibrates with challenge and testosterone. Kate’s feeling pretty challenged herself until she remembers that Rossetti’s readers are the ones with sense…

Chan changed his stance, slipping his arms around Harley’s lean waist from behind. He rested his chin on the other man’s shoulder and slid one hand under the waistband of his breeches. Harley inhaled sharply, but he didn’t take his eyes from Jack. Neither did Chan.

Or Duka.

Come to think of it, all three of them were staring across the clearing. Kate could almost swear she heard the air sizzle.

Silly, murmured Ess. They’re looking at you, sweetie. They want you.

Not just me, thought Kate, achingly aware of Jack’s hard, warm body mere inches away, one hand on her shoulder, the other gripping Peter’s nape. The younger man’s breath came in light, shallow gusts, the heat of his cock pressed against her buttock, leaving a small, damp kiss on her flesh.

The silence was absolute, save for the liquid lapping of the pool and the breeze playing in the trees.

Harley’s voice came in a grating whisper. “Cap’n…damn you. I’m dyin’.” He reached down to unlace his breeches and with an impatient huff, Chan shoved them down so they pooled at his feet. Then he wrapped a hand around Harley’s cock and pulled up hard.

They both groaned and Kate wasn’t sure she hadn’t as well. Harley rose on his toes and his eyelids fell half shut with pleasure. “Cap’n,” he said hoarsely. “She’s fuckin’ gorgeous. Let us have her. Christ, let us have you.”

Jack tossed his towel aside. With his usual grace, he took Kate from Peter, stepping into her back and pressing her spine against his muscled chest. Gently, he cradled her breasts in his elegant hands, rasping her proud nipples. Displaying her. “Aye,” he said, his voice husky. “She’s a rare beauty is my Kate. Soft and wet and hot, and so tight your cock will think you’ve died and gone to heaven. Feast your eyes, lads.”

Want more? You can read all of Kate and see more pirates on the Rackety Kate page. Want even more than that? Join my newsletter - see below.

Subscribers to my newsletter get to interfere with Kate’s love life. Sign up to join the fun!

Who is this “average woman” anyway? You ever met her? I’m sure haven’t! I think she’s a mythical creature, like the Loch Ness monster, or Big Foot. Oh no, wait a sec, she can’t be Big Foot, ‘cos she wouldn’t be able to find shoes to fit her.

Okay, I admit it - this is a vent,  pure and simple. But honest to god, it drives me nuts that I can’t buy shoes or clothes because I’m not “average”. Hell’s bells, I don’t know anyone average, do you?

I’m not even going to talk about bra sizes. Grrr…

But shoes? Aaaargh! You all know how much I love shoes, but I have small feet. Not impossibly small, mind you, a size 5, or a 35 European. I know other women with the same size feet. My mother’s are a whole size smaller.

Over the years, I’ve developed a kind of slide-over-’em gaze, specially for shoe shops.  I give the place a quick once over, never focusing on any one pair, because I mustn’t fall in love and risk a broken heart.  Then I brace myself, buttonhole an assistant and ask, “What do you have in a five? Do you have anything in a five? At all?”

In my naivety, when we went to the US, I thought there’d be hundreds of pairs of beautiful shoes, all size five, all jostling on the shelves, competing to come home with me. The hard part was going to be selecting from among the multitudes. I even had my heart set of a pair of cowboy boots - red ones.

Nope. NOPE!

My Beloved bought a faaabulous pair of cowboy boots. Mark Nason, on a sale. They are just gorgeous. *whimper*

But for me? Same old story. *sigh* Yes, I did buy a couple of pairs on a sale, useful, but not special, you know? I saw shelf after shelf of beauties, not a one in my size.

Next time, I’m going to Hong Kong, or Singapore - somewhere where women have small feet!

Your turn. Wanna vent? Be my guest! Go for it!

Ah, you gotta love the Aussie vernacular! Across the country, there are many different words for the humble swimsuit - togs, bathers, swimmers, boardies. Depends where you come from.

But the best by a country mile is used for those abbreviated swim trunks most people call speedos.

Here, they’re known as “budgie smugglers“. 

And if you take a real good look to the right, you’ll see why.

I think it’s clever, and funny and dry - real Oz humour.  Also, um, very visual. *chuckle*

At the moment, there’s a debate raging in lifesaving circles. (You guys Over There call them lifeguards.) Budgie smugglers or board shorts? Apparently, young men aren’t signing on because having to appear in public wearing their speedos makes them feel uncomfortable. Old hands say it’s more important to be fast and safe in the water during a rescue. The local press have the story here. It’s accompanied by a complete gallery of budgie smugglers, so you can see for yourself.

I’m ambivalent. After all, a man needs incredible self-confidence and a body like a god to be able carry off a pair of budgie smugglers - and let’s face it, there aren’t too many of them!

The billboard says it all really. What do you think? Do speedos on the beach put you off your lunch? I don’t see how the principle is all that different from a bikini, to be honest. It’s all about the body - and the budgies.

What do you call a swimsuit where you’re from? A swimsuit? Or something else entirely?

Today, a good friend of mine, let’s call her R.,  goes to hospital to have a breast removed. This is a woman who has defined what courage is all her life, right from the time she was a little girl and life kicked her in the teeth. True courage is feeling the fear, but doing what you have to do, day after day, year after year. She’s done that.

R. has gained so much in this life, all that is precious - a loving, supportive husband, truly a man for the long haul, three grown children with successful lives of their own. A wide circle of friends.

Is she scared? Of course, she is.  Are we scared for her? Of course, we are.

Will she get through this? Of course, she will. The prognosis is excellent. Unfortunately, the time before it comes true is pretty shitty.

Can I ask you to keep her in your thoughts today? Pray, send healing light, positive vibes. Whatever you can do. We are all interconnected, I truly believe that. It all helps.

Thank you.