Sunday, September 26, 2010

Happy Mirotic Day


Imari’s going to deviate from the norm today and blog about her obsession. About six months ago I was on YouTube doing research for my novel “Cherish,” when I heard this song featured on a music video entitled “Oasis,” by a young Korean b-band named B2ST. They were cute, the song was nice and it got me thinking that maybe I found something new to write about. So I continued watching videos and movies featuring Korean performers and then I ran across one entitled Mirotic. So I clicked and my life changed. No crap, it hit me like an epiphany.
I grew up loving the Jackson Five and so naturally I knew I had a thing for boy bands. Imari’s life was getting a little stale…go to work, come home, go to bed, and then go back to work. Music has always been an important factor in my life, I wanted to be a dancer when I was young and my mother always had a great selection of music to entertain us. Six years of practicing, but even though I’m a writer, I have not lost my love for dancing and singing. Then along came DISCO (Crappy) and then Rap and all the good boy bands were gone. My faith in music returned with the discovery of Dong Bong Shin Ki (DBSK) and Miortic.
So what is MIROTIC? Mirotic is a song and video introduced on September 26, 2008 by an up and coming Korean Pop (KPOP) band DBSK. Miortic quickly took Asia by storm with its upbeat sound and dance club salability. DBSK transformed from teen-agers into young men, baring their chests, shaking their hips and showing the world that they were a musical forced to be reckoned with.
Critics and censors actually tried to ban the video for its strong erotic and suggestive syntax but viewers could not be denied the sensuality of U-know, Hero, Max, Micky and Xiah. They were here and in our faces letting us know that there is nothing wrong with the human body and the censors be damned as they crooned the sentence, “I got you under my skin.” Through this song young girls blossomed into young womanhood.
So what were my thoughts on the subject the first time I saw the video? Truthfully I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Hero’s six pack abs. The dancer in me stared captivated at the amazing choreography, and how the young men moved around the floor from one spot to another to get to the middle/front just in time to sing their lead part without missing a step.
Most of the song is in Japanese (or Korean, depending on what video you watch) with a few choice English words thrown in. It’s a story about the members being caught and imprisoned by a witch. I thought the premise was a bit juvenile at first, but then after a few viewings I realized, ooh baby, this is so hot. She chains Hero to a wall, pushes Max into a watery grave, traps Micky in a glass box, hooks U-Know with colorful ties and put Xiah in some type of electronic barrier. Your body will definitely react when you see Hero’s taunt young muscular bulge against the ropes as he struggles to free himself, and Max’s exit from the watery grave will steal your breath away.
Okay, it took me a little while to realize it wasn’t all about the words or the abs or the bondage thing. I thought; let me check it out from a dancer’s prospective. Usually there’s one or two real singers in a boy band and the rest are just pretty eye-candy that can dance fairly well. That is not the case with this group, they are all performers whether it is dancing or singing.
U-Know, the leader of the group, not only have a sweet voice, but the young man has some mad dance skills. I especially like the part when he exposes his chest and dances backwards on his toes without bumping into the other dancers.
Hero, the eldest member of the group and lead singer wows with his porcelain skin, exotic voice, exposed chest and abs and tiny little waist (okay, I got to take a break, I’m drooling). His eyes demand that you watch him as he seduces the camera.
Max, the baby of the group and the tallest of the six feet crooners, hit those glass shattering high notes, and bears a charismatic, cocky, snarly grin as he commands center stage to shake his booty football style.
Xiah – What can I say? The voice and face of an angel, and hips relegated straight out of hell. My word, those hips are lethal as he bumps and grinds and sends my blood pressure up a degree or two. His unique voice is recognized all around the world but it’s those hips and flawless dancing skills that captured my attention.
Last, but certainly not least, Micky, bound by the evil witch in a glass box until he forcefully breaks out sending glass shred everywhere and piecing my heart. This deep voice charmer only flashes a bit of skin in the video but ladies check out the hair (Imari did – Be still my heart). It bounces sexily over his forehead and covers one eye, moving like a wave of black silk. (Yeah, I’m hooked on this one). I never knew hair could be an aphrodisiac and he can dance and sing too.
Okay, back to the song. I think I’ve done enough drooling for the moment. If you think I’ve exaggerated just check out the video at YouTube.

Happy Mirotic Day Fellow Cassies

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Happy Birthday to Me

I woke up at 7:25 am. What’s so spectacular about that? It’s my birthday and I can’t remember the last time I slept past 6:00am. So I am thankful for the little extra time. So how did I start my day? I got dressed, pulled out my laptop and watched the video “Begin” by DBSK as I do every morning. It makes me happy and gets me in the mood for writing, especially when I see my gorgeous Hero singing his heart out and my talented Micky playing the piano.
I followed it up by taking my high blood pressure medicine, by doing so I hope to see my next birthday.
Now it’s on to Yahoo to check my email. Wait, first phone call of the day. It’s my mother. She called to wish me a Happy Birthday and to remind me that I was born at 8:30 am. It’s funny the things she remembers. She didn’t sing Happy Birthday to me like she does everyone in the family because she has a toothache.
Wow, look at all the email. It’s from my Facebook and MySpace friends and they are all wishing me a Happy Birthday. I know how I’m going to spend the rest of the morning. My sister called around 9:00 am while I was fixing breakfast. She asked me how I felt to be another year older. Surprisingly enough I don’t feel much different. In fact I think I feel better this year than I did last year, or the previous four years when I was sick with Bronchitis. I don’t know. There must be something in the air during this time of the year. I do have an annoying little post nasal drip hack but other than that I feel great.
As I look into the mirror this morning I really don’t see any significant changes except for my hair. It isn’t shiny as it used to be and I have a couple more gray hairs. Thankfully I haven’t started to wrinkle or sag, and I’m still petite….probably a product of good genes, and not from any special diet. Case in point, breakfast this morning was coffee, grits, scrambled eggs with cheese, sausage and biscuits. Note, earlier where I said I had to take my high blood pressure medicine. Sometimes you just have to live a little.
Will I be celebrating my birthday with a drink? No, alcohol I do not do. Never acquired a taste for it. Not even beer.
Just paid my cell phone bill. I don’t know why I have one. I don’t remember the phone number when I need to. I know how to answer it and turn it off. I can even access my Yahoo email, but everything else is just Greek.
I’m so excited. I thought I lost my databases. They mysteriously appeared this morning. Thank the Lord I don’t have to recreate them. I’m going to back them up on the external drive shortly.
It’s a perfect time to catch up on all the stuff I have been saving on my DVR. I’ve made it through two more episodes of “True Blood” and “Entourage.”
It’s now five in the afternoon so far so good. I’ve heard from my brother and sister-in-law and so far I’ve only seen one of my three sons and not out of peep out of the one I did see.
One of my friends on Facebook bid me a Happy Birthday and told me he hoped my dreams come true. I thought that was so sweet.
Hey my best friend just called. She was on her way from work. My youngest son just came into the house with a present and a kiss. He got me an 11 piece travel kit. Perfect. It will come in handy for a trip I have planned for next year. The card is beautiful and heartfelt and he also gave me a big bag of Hershey’s Kisses, which are my favorite. That was followed up with a call from son number three, his wife and two of my grandchildren. Another grandchild ran in and wished me Happy Birthday, gave me a kiss and then went home. Finally, second daughter-in-law and two more grandchildren. I think that’s just about everyone.
Am I the same person I was last year? God I hope not. Last year I was a stressed out mess dealing with family and health problems. I spent a fortune on anime which I used to de-stress, yet I did manage write seven novels.
This year I tried not to let too much worry me. I still spend a lot of time in my room, but instead of watching anime I am writing. Even my style has change. I dabbled in M/M, interracial, historical and yaoi this year. Got a new pen name and made more money with my writing. And I’m working on a new series that I hope will be received well by my fans.
I’m now hooked on everything Asian. Fell in love with a Korean J/K Pop group, and have a big old cougar crush on a 24 year old whom I hope to get to know better in the coming months. At first my kids thought I lost my mind, but they have gotten used to the posters and pictures on my bedroom wall. Let’s face it, you’re as old as you feel and right now I’m feeling like a kid again.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Promo Monday - On the Warpath

Available now at Sugar and Spice Press
New Release: September 18, 2010

On the Warpath by Imari Jade

After the death of his best friend, Secret Service Agent, Hayden Mercier swore that he would never have a partner again, but before he could voice his opinion, his boss went behind his back and assigned him one. Not only was Agent Harris, bossy, arrogant, and a rookie, but he turned out to be a she with long willowy shapely legs, a body that filled out her uniform well, and a face so beautiful it made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. How could he protect the President of the United States when he’d have to worry about keeping every male in the agency away from his partner?

All Nevaeh Harris wanted to do was serve the country that she loved the best way she knew how. She felt honored to be assigned to a position to guard the President so early in her career. That was until she learned that her partner was Hayden Mercier, a renegade agent who had lost his partner in the line of duty. Well she was taught early in life that she couldn’t let anything stand in her way when it came to getting things done, and that included egotistical, chauvinistic handsome males who thought a woman’s place was in the kitchen. She’d do her job and do it well, even if it meant dragging him along with her.

Chapter One
“I don’t really think I need a new partner, Chief. I’ve been doing pretty well without one,” Hayden Mercier said to his boss, Dan Parker, late one afternoon in the parking lot outside the Secret Service building in Washington. Having a partner often caused too many problems, and when one died it fucked with his emotions.
Dan watched him with keen brown eyes that had seen a lot over thirty years. “It’s been two years, Hayden. Time to get over the guilt.”
“Aaron was my partner. I should have been there for him.”
“As great as you are, even you can’t be in two places at one time. Your job is to protect the President first, and all others next.”
Of course Hayden understood his job perfectly well, since he’d been doing it for the last ten years. That did not mean he liked choosing between the leader of the country and his best friend. Not having a partner meant never making that decision again.
“You’ll like Harris,” Dan said after giving him time to accept that the choice wasn’t his. “The two of you have a lot in common.”
Hayden doubted that. “Harris who? I don’t recall anyone in the agency by that name.”
Dan shifted his hands into the pocket of his navy blue pants. “Well, Harris is new to the Secret Service.”
Hayden raised a concerned eyebrow. “A rookie?”
Dan nodded. “Technically yes, but she’s…”
Hayden interrupted him. “She? A female rookie?” He started to pace. “This shit just keeps getting better. Not only are you trying to saddle me with a partner I know nothing about and don’t want, but you’re telling me that she’s a female rookie. Listen, I don’t have time to baby-sit, and skirts are nothing but trouble.”
Dan pulled his hands out of his pocket. “I never pictured you as a chauvinist, Hayden, and please don’t refer to the female agents as ‘skirts.’ They have just as much right to serve in the Service as any male. If they’re good enough to give birth to a president, they're good enough to guard and protect him.”
Hayden folded his arm and raised his chin defiantly. “Then you take her on as a partner.”
Dan shook his head. “Can’t. Starting next month I’m giving up the field for a desk job.”
“Huh?” Hayden relaxed his stance. “Are you sick? Are they forcing you to?”
“No, I’m not sick, but I am nearly sixty-two years old. It’s my decision. I’m getting too old to be running around, and I sure as hell don’t want to cause a death because my reflexes are slowing down. This kind of work is a young man’s or young woman’s game, and retirement is just around the corner for me.”
At thirty Hayden couldn’t fathom such a thing as retirement…maybe when he was the ripe old age of seventy…maybe.
A black Chevy SUV pulled into the parking lot and a female exited, dressed in a navy blue suit and a white blouse. Hayden looked her over from head to toe and back down to her legs, which were muscular and curvy wrapped in coffee-colored hose.
“Here’s Harris now,” Dan replied.
Hayden watched her approach, checking out every detail from her jet-black hair color to the way she walked in high-heeled black pumps. Everything about her spoke class and perfection. Not one long dark hair stood out of place. Finally he’d met someone as particular as he was about their appearance.
The young woman walked over to Dan and shook his hand. “Thank you for considering me for the job. I’ll try not to let you down.”
She had a deep and throaty voice. Man oh man, I’m dead. Hey, what job? Had everything been arranged before his boss had confronted him?
“Harris, I’d like to introduce you to your new partner, Hayden Mercier. Hayden, this is Agent Nevaeh Harris.”
Nevaeh? Native-American Indian and African-American mixture. Damn, she’s stunning.
Nevaeh extended her hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Agent Mercier. Agent Parker has told me so much about you.”
A Cajun accent like his too. Hayden shook her hand out of politeness. “He hasn’t told me anything about you. I only learned of your existence right before you drove up.”
Nevaeh smiled, revealing beautiful teeth and dimples. “Must have been a shock learning that your new partner is not only a rookie but a female too.”
“Add the fact that you’re also beautiful and Cajun, and you can see my dilemma. I’ll be keeping male agents off of you and forgetting to protect the President.” Damn, she has some seriously long lashes too.
Nevaeh didn’t blush. She just stood there staring blankly at him with those almond-shaped dark brown eyes.
“Let me guess. You don’t want a partner.”
“No, I don’t, but Dan knew it and still brought you here.”
“Tough,” Nevaeh replied. “Now you’re trapped between a rock and a hard place.”
“Well, at least you’re honest about it and not trying to be nice to spare my feelings.”
Hayden liked her bluntness. “I’m not that nice.”
“I thought Agent Parker was nuts when he suggested that I pair up with you too. You’re not exactly known for your friendless.”
Hayden balled his hands into fists. “You don’t know a thing about me, lady.”
Nevaeh nodded. “I’ve done my research on you, and please refrain from calling me ‘lady.’ The name is Agent Harris or Nevaeh, if and when we become friends.”
Dan stifled a laugh. “Told you the two of you have a lot in common. Must be something in the water in Louisiana.”
Hayden frowned. “Oil jokes not appreciated.” In April a major oil company’s ship exploded near his hometown and contaminated the water. Several lives were lost, and for months fishermen and shrimpers worried about their futures. “You from Louisiana too?”
“Lafayette,” she replied. “And you?”
“Plaquemine Parish.”
“See, the two of you are practically neighbors.”
Nevaeh shook her head. “That does not change the fact that he does not want a female as a partner.”
“I never said that. Your sex has nothing to do with it. I just prefer to work alone.”
“Most renegades do.”
The more she spoke the more he felt like taking her over his knees and paddling the hell out of her. This generation of young people was a bunch of smartasses. “I’m no renegade.”
“But you don’t do things exactly by the book.”
Hayden hovered over her. “Sometimes you need to deviate from the norm to get the job done.”
“I’ll remember that at your trial.” She turned her attention back to Dan. “I’ll take the job.”
“Over my dead body,” Hayden muttered. “I did not agree to take you on as a partner.”
“Since you don’t own or run Homeland Security, you don’t get a say so,” Nevaeh reminded him. “You’ll accept me as your partner and like it.”
The smug look on Dan’s face angered him. “Why don’t you say something?”
“What do you want me to say? It’s a free world, and she has opinions.”
“Damn skirt,” Hayden mumbled as he walked away from them. He’d be damned if he’d be bossed around by this arrogant woman. Under no circumstances would she be his partner. He didn’t care how beautiful she was, or how fine she was, or how horny she made him just standing there looking at her. Nevaeh Harris was not going to be his partner. He sighed. If he stayed around her all the time he’d keep a permanent erection, and the next thing he’d knew he’d do something stupid like try to fuck her.

Friday, September 3, 2010

My Muse Has Returned

My muse came to visit me tonight while I was in Harrah’s Casino, which I thought was a stupid ass place for her to do so. I was suddenly hit with a revelation after sitting for hours watching my friend gamble her hard earned money away.
“Re-write the story”, my muse whispered into my ear.
Where the hell has she been and why did she come while I was in that god-forsaken place without a pen and pad? It’s Southern Decadence weekend in New Orleans. If you’re gay, a lesbian or bi this is the place to be this weekend. So there is no reason why my hot-blooded heterosexual ass needed to be involved in their fun. The only thing I could hope to achieve was to spot a couple that I could possibly use in my next M/M romance, but no such luck. The casino was overrun by geriatrics wasting their Social Security checks, drunks looking for the free drinks, and old men who for some reason seem to gravitate toward me when I’m there. Luckily they all kept their safe distance and left me alone.
I don’t like casinos but every once and a while I get suckered into stopping in there on the way home. The story is so long and complicated that I would not bore my fans with how I get trapped there. There is nothing for me to do but sit and watch a wheel go round and round while my friend ignores my pleas to take me home. I don’t think she’d respond if I keeled over and died. When you’re addicted, you’re addicted.
Anyway. I’ve been working on my latest WIP for nearly a month now and believe it or not I have written 309 handwritten pages. I think my muse was around when I created the premise but I think she snuck off on a vacation and put a fake muse in her place, thinking I wouldn’t know the difference. I’ve been suspecting that something was wrong with the story for a while. In fact, I spent about an hour talking to my son about it yesterday, boring the young man to death as writers often do non-writers or people who refuse to pick up a book. He’s a rapper and it surprised the heck out of me that I kept his attention that long. “My characters aren’t talking to me,” I told him. “They’re there moving around the pages but they aren’t saying anything.” I really began to notice that something was up when no one ended up in bed. Hmm, sixteen chapters and still no sex. This type of thing does not happen in erotic romance. Well, at least not in anything I have written.
“Okay tell me how to fix it”, I whispered back. I don’t think anyone was paying attention to me in the casino since most of them were half drunk.
“Take out some of those characters.”
I have to admit; I do have a lot of characters and had just introduced another in the last chapter. The story is set in Tokyo, Japan where there are millions of people. The problem is I think I included all of them in the first fifteen chapters. In the beginning I thought all of them were necessary but now I don’t think they are since some of them haven’t been heard from in ages while one of two the main characters have issues I’ve yet to address.
“The heroine is boring.”
I didn’t like that too much since I think she’s supposed to be me. The premise is to take a middle-aged woman and make her attracted to a man half her age. I had the obstacles written down but I think only one has appeared so far. The heroine starts off a goody-goody in the beginning but now she’s doing things way out the box. Okay, if she’s supposed to be me then she’s far from goody-goody. She would be more a border-line bad girl who has no problem expressing herself to the opposite sex. If two exceedingly handsome young men were vying for my attention the real me would not be hesitating the way this character has been doing.
“The other man in the story is better than the hero.”
I know this is true. I started falling for the other man the moment he opened his mouth, while the hero has trouble expressing his feelings and is afraid to make waves. Hmm, what to do? I know I could not have her going to bed with both of them. Or could I? Hell it’s my story. I can tell it any way I want to. No, it’s not a ménage, or is it? I think I should have worked out these questions long before chapter sixteen.
I’m pretty angry with my muse right about now because she left me hanging. I wonder if she went on a cruise or something, knowing that I’m afraid of the water and she wouldn’t be able to go if she’d told me about it.
“So what else is wrong with the story?”
“You have it set in Japan. Where the heck is the descriptive scenery? Your characters are inside of buildings. Get them outside.”
This is also true. Most of the scenes are written in a hotel or at a restaurant. Tokyo has wonderful historic places to see and visit. I guess I’ll be doing more research tomorrow.
“Your Japanese characters’ language sounds too American.”
“Yeah, I know. They’re so cool but the language is so wrong.” I don’t really think one of them would say, “I’ll kick your ass” or “Her body is banging.”
“So the only thing I had right is the title?”
“It will do,” my muse said sarcastically.
As you can tell that my muse has even bigger mental issues that I have.
“So the plan for tomorrow is to re-think this story and re-write it.”
“Exactly,” my muse said as she peeped over at the television to watch Family Guy.
“I need a perm and a haircut. You think I can get that done tomorrow.”
“Only after you began re-writing.”
I think my muse should have stayed missing for a while. The next thing I know she’ll have me multi-tasking novels again.