Red River Radio Podcast of the Week from January 13, 2014 TL Wood and Brae Wyckoff

This podcast features TL Wood, author of Eldohr Adventures: Search for the Lost Kingdom and Eldohr Adventures: Quest for Windsoar. And Brae Wyckoff, author of The Orb of Truth, The Vampire King, The Dragon God.

Dellani's Tea Time January 13, 2014

I Love Dialogue - Room 103

Marice Houston is a Deputy Federal Marshal stationed in Kansas City, Missouri. She hasn't been back to her alma mater for a good many years, but she's come back for her tenth college reunion. While there, she sees Kris Hood—a regrets guy, the one who was never more than a friend. They finally kindle the relationship that neither of them really realized they wanted. They meet up with some friends, old and new, for breakfast.

“You never could hold your alcohol,” Kris teased. “One of the many things I love about you.” He kissed me on the forehead.

“You love that I can't drink booze? What's up with that?” I slurred.

“Makes you a cheap date,” Brian added, nudging me.

“I'll just eat twice as much to compensate,” I decided.

Rose giggled. I giggled. Nadine giggled. The men moved the pitchers of mimosas away from us.

“I'm cutting off your supply, young lady,” Kris scolded with a smile.

“As long as it's the mimosas and not the orgasms, that's okay.”

“Did you mean to say that so loudly?”

“No. But you got me drunk. Now you have to put up with my lack of self-control.”

“I can work with that,” he murmured, nibbling my ear. “We missed our morning wake up.”

I tried to rest my forehead against his, but I couldn't manage it. It was completely beyond my skill set at that point. “Me too,” I tried to whisper, but failed. “Sex with you is super fun.”

“Thanks. You're fun, too.”

“And it feels really good. And it makes me scream,” I continued, unable to stop talking. “And I'm really, really going to miss you when I go home. So much!” I declared, hiccuping. “So—much!”

“I think it's time to take you home and let you sleep this off.”

“No sleeping. Nope, nope, nope. Not when we can have sex in the foyer again. That was fun!”

Kris dropped some money on the table toward the tip and led me out the door. I stumbled, but he held me up.

“Babe, you're starting to freak me out a little.”

“I don't drink much,” I slurred. “But I swear, I don't get this drunk....” I stopped by the curb and hurled, narrowly missing my shoes.

Kris, god bless him, held me as I vomited up everything in my stomach. I do believe I would have puked up my own ass if I could have. I've never felt so sick in my life.

“I don't like this,” he said, looking around for something. “I don't like this at all. If I put you in the car, can you keep from barfing on my upholstery?”

“For now. Why?”

“I'm gonna get you an antiemetic.”

“That's the no barfing medicine, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you still here?”

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

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Red River Radio Presents What's Write for Me January 27 with Whit, Hebby and Marsha

Join Christina and Dellani when they talk with these three wonderful authors.

We will chat first with returning guest, Whit McClendon, author of Mage's Burden. He'll be on from 4:00 – 4:40 PM EST (3 CST, 2 MST, 1 PST)

My next guest is new to the show. We're delighted to welcome Hebby Roman, author of Princess and the Templar, Tempt Fortune, Summer Dreams and more! Hebby will be chatting with us from 4:40 – 5:20 PM EST (3 CST, 2 MST, 1 PST)

My last guest is no stranger to the show. We happily welcome back Marsha Casper Cook, author of I Wish I was a Brownie, Virginia Templeton Stories, Snack Attack and many more. Marsha will be on 5:20 – 6:00 PM EST (3 CST, 2 MST, 1 PST)

ToListen Live or Catch the Podcast

Red River Radio Podcast of the Week December 8, 2014 with M. Anna Black and M.P. Witwer

This lively interview originally aired on Wednesday, December 8, 2014 with two of my favorite authors: M. Anna Black, author of Witched and Forever Witched. And M.P. Witwer, author of Writer's Block and Twist of Fate, among others.

Dellani's Tea Time Wednesday, December 8, 2014

I Love Dialogue - 99 Problems #2

Portia went to dinner with Wood and afterward, they did some talking and a lot of kissing on the couch—until someone set her chicken coop on fire. Fortunately, here were no chickens in it. Wood agrees to spend the night, sleeping in the guest room, so Portia won't be alone at night.

Someone tapped on my bedroom door. Groaning, I glanced at the clock. It was almost 9:00.

"Yeah?"

"Coffee," Wood sounded cheerful.

"Be right there."

I went to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked ghastly. A cold washcloth helped, as did brushing my hair. I threw on a T-shirt and yoga pants, foregoing a bra because I simply didn't feel like putting one on. If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought I was hung over. The aspirin were still by the bed, so I swallowed a couple with a handful of water from the tap.

The coffee smelled delicious. I also detected the distinct aroma of baked goods. When I got to the kitchen, I found that Wood had baked muffins. He set a mug in front of me, perfectly doctored, as well as two muffins, slathered with butter.

"I had no idea I had ingredients for muffins," I said, taking a bite.

"Everything but the blueberries, but Carl has them in his freezer. I helped myself."

"You're one of those perky morning types, aren't you?"

"Yes, grumble pussy, I am."

I groaned, holding the coffee mug to my forehead.

"Mornings are what you make of them," he continued.

"I want to make them go away. Is that possible?"

"You have to make it fun. Find something to smile about."

I sipped the coffee and took another bite of muffin, and managed a vague impression of a smile. Wood leaned over, giving me a quick kiss. I smiled more, sighing contentedly.

"See? Morning isn't so bad after all."

"Not with you in it," I replied without thinking.

Instead of getting upset, he grinned, winking. "Trust me, there are better uses for morning, but I'll try to be a gentleman."

I groaned again, not in a good way.

"Not a fan of morning sex?" he raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Seriously? I can barely see straight. I do not feel sexy in the morning."

"Haven't woken up with the right man," he suggested casually as he walked away.

I had to admit, he was probably right. Mornings were often when Cory chose to go off on me. He loved to argue and he picked at everything I did. The coffee was too strong, or too weak. The eggs weren't done right, the milk was curdled.

"He was such a dick," I grumbled. "He made mornings extra special by pitching tantrums."

Wood sat across from me, arms crossed on the table, his chin on his wrists. He looked up at me like a puppy dog. "I'll make you a deal," he said, chin bobbing on his hands.

"What?" I leaned over, resting my chin on my hands.

"I won't talk about my bitch of an ex if you'll quit bringing up Cory. Every time you mention him, I have this urge to kick him in the nuts."

"That makes two of us."

"I'm not him, Portia. I'm not like him and I won't break your heart."

"It wasn't the breaking as much as the ripping out of my chest part. And the trampling it part. But you're right. Creepy Cory needs to be thrown out with the garbage."

"Agreed."

"Maybe we should introduce him to your ex."

"I don't think the world would survive if the Bride of Frankenstein met the Anti-Christ, do you?"

I laughed loudly, tossing my hair. "Probably not."

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

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Red River Radio Podcast of the Week from August 11, 2014 with PI Barrington and Franny Armstrong

These two ladies totally rock. We had such fun, chatting about books and reading excerpts. Be sure to tune in for this wonderful podcast. Originally aired August 11, 2014 with guests PI Barrington, author of The Brede Chronicles, Zippered Flesh, Isadora Daystar, and many more and FrannyArmstrong, author of Jinn & Toxic and Amazon Intrigue.

Dellani's Tea Time August 11, 2014

I Love Dialogue - 99 Problems

Portia Bledsoe is a recent resident of the Sunshine State. She inherited a house and some money from a great-uncle she barely knows, though she has come to find out that he was very fond of her, despite family distance. She also inherited a wonderful neighbor, Carl, who looks after her with fatherly care. Portia is in the process of fixing up her home and Carl has a suggestion for a contractor to handle the job.

"This contractor have a name?"

"Sherwood Cirocco."

"Wow, that's a mouthful!" I muttered it to myself once or twice, getting the feel for the name. "How did he get saddled with a name like that?"

"By being the only grandson," another voice said as the back screen door swung open. "I got a name from every branch of the family. You should see my birth certificate."

I looked up into the smiling face of my Home Improvement buddy, Wood. "So, this is your contractor, huh?" I allowed myself to giggle. "Good to see you again, Mr. Sherwood Cirocco. When you gave me that list of contractors, did you plan to just give me your number?"

"Of course." He trotted down the steps, dropping into the chair next to me. "Question is, would you have called?"

"Oh, yeah," I replied, failing to curtail my enthusiastic tone.

Sherwood grinned, winking at me. "Cool." He glanced over at his uncle. "Can I help with anything?"

"Yes, entertain my guest. I need to get the water bottle." Carl trotted up the steps, letting the screen door drop behind him.

"Subtle," Wood said, watching his uncle's retreating back. "Since he's already got one." He pointed to the clear plastic spray bottle sitting by the grill.

Another giggle escaped me. I couldn't seem to stop myself. "Yes, that's a word with which I always describe Carl. He's a great guy, so subtle."

"There are worse things to be called. Boring. Deformed. Addled. The list is endless."

"You'll be glad to know that you aren't any of those things." I blushed, dropping my head to my chest. I wanted to crawl under the picnic table and quietly hide until he left.

Wood chuckled. "Thanks. You're pretty well formed. You don't seem to be boring. Now addled. . . ."

I laughed loudly, throwing him a harsh look. "I'm not addled. I just embarrassed the hell out of myself."

"Oh?" He crossed to the back porch and pulled a couple beers from the red cooler on the steps. He popped off the tops, handing me one.

"The not deformed comment. I don't want you to think I'm staring or anything."

Wood struck a pose, foot on the step, shoulders back, chin high, like a Captain Morgan ad. "Look all you want. I'm not offended." He held the pose a moment longer before taking a manly swig of his beer. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cold liquid.

I indulged myself, staring hungrily at him, watching his adam's apple bob as he swallowed. How is it possible for someone to be sexy drinking beer? I mean, my God, it's just . . . . a long, lean, tanned throat with just enough stubble to be sexy as ever loving hell. . . . Oh, God, I need to get laid!

Wood spewed his beer, nearly toppling over from his manly pose. He stared at me, wiping the dribbling beer with the back of his hand. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, Jesus! I said that aloud?" I pulled my shirt up, ducking my head in like an ostrich. I buried my head under my arms, nearly spilling my beer over my head. "Holy shit," I muttered. "I'm so sorry."

Wood couldn't stop laughing. I don't know what was worse, the fact I said that or the fact he thought it was so amusing.

"It wasn't that funny," I muttered, swiping at my eyes. I was so embarrassed, I was crying.

"No, my turn to be sorry," he chuckled, wiping tears of his own. I need not add that his were from mirth. "I totally did that on purpose," he admitted, handing me a napkin from a stack on the table. "I'm really sorry. Been a long time since a woman looked at me that way."

"What way is that, Mr. Cirocco?"

He flashed his crooked grin. "Like she wanted to eat me—in a completely non-carnivorous and consenting adult kind of way."

"Dream on, Mr. Cirocco!"

"So, you weren't thinking that you wanted to lick me from head to foot?" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Your imagination, completely."

"Yes, I'm sure it was." He winked at me.

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

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Dellani's Tea Time and What's Write for Me

I've started something different this year. I used to advertise my shows exclusively on Facebook and Twitter. It (finally) occurred to me that not all my followers are following me there as well as here. So, I am adding new a new page to advertise my monthly shows. All shows are at 4:00 PM Eastern time and are two hours,

Dellani's Tea Time Monday, January 11 - Christina Giguere, Karen Vaughan and Dellani Oakes Podcast

What's Write for Me Wednesday, January 27 - Marsha Casper Cook, Hebby Roman, Whit McClendon

Red River Radio Podcast of the Week from March 26, 2014 featuring Nina Mason, Candace C. Bowen and Etienne Gibbs

This week's podcast is from March of 2014 and features Nina Mason, CandaceC. Bowen and Etienne Gibbs. Each author talked about his or her work and read excerpts from one of their books. We had a blast, as usual. Join us and listen to these wonderful authors.

What's Write for Me March 26, 2014

I Love Dialogue - Brick McMillan #2

Brick McMillan is back home in Florida for a funeral—his younger brother's. There have been a lot of deaths in his family lately, his father, his wife and now his brother Stony. However, the night he got home, he was using Stony's computer and got a mysterious Instant Message from a woman calling herself XYZ. She arranges a meeting with him at the Panera in Daytona.

The morning rush at Panera was tapering off when he ordered his coffee and pastry. Finding a table wasn't hard. He sat in the main room, over to one side, near the partition. From here, he could see the back door, but not the front. He suspected that XYZ was a backdoor user. As it happened, he was right.

Brick spotted the tall, trim figured woman as soon as she walked in. Her honey colored hair was pulled back in a loose chignon. She scanned the restaurant, dark glasses raised to her forehead with one hand. She wore a slate gray suit and low heeled black shoes. Her jacket was buttoned, but there was a slight bulge under her left arm. She spotted him on her second pass. Brick held up his coffee, saluting her. Frowning, she strutted across the room, taking a seat across from him at the table.

“You need to work on your entrance,” he said after taking a sip. “I knew it was you the second you walked in.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“By name? No. But my guess is you're a fed, not a cop.” He leaned forward, forearms on the table, the cup between his hands.

Her frown deepened. Her silence demanded an explanation.

“You don't move like a cop. You move like a soldier. In plain clothes, those glasses, shoes you can run in—Fed.”

She flashed a wary smile. Her eyes were a vivid aquamarine. There was a scattering of freckles across her pert nose.

“So, this begs the questions—Why is a federal agent so anxious to talk to my bother? And why does she sound so unconvinced that he's dead?”

“Mr. McMillan....”

He held up a finger, waving it at her as if chastising a spoiled child for bad manners. “The way this works, you introduce yourself. Then we chat.”

“Call me Agent X.” She grinned and a hint of a twinkle lit up her eyes.

“I'd rather not. I quit reading comic books thirty years ago.”

“Colleen,” she told him.

“No last name. So, like Pink or Seal....”

“Something like that.” The smile faded. “Look, Brick, we can tease and flirt all day—”

“Is that what this is?” He leaned forward aggressively. “I thought this was you telling me about your relationship with Stony.”

“It's not an affair.”

“That much I know. My brother's not a cheater. I figure it's business related, but that's a puzzler. My brother was an engineer.”

She sighed, leaning back. “May we start over?”

“Sure.” He wiped his hand on his napkin before holding it out. “Brick McMillan.”

She shook it. Her grip was firm, her palm calloused. She spent a lot of time with that handgun. “Colleen Underwood.”

“Federal agent.”

“Yes.”

“FBI? NSA?”

“RNS.”

“I don't know that one—Oh! Rather Not Say,” he chuckled as he translated her acronym. “Gotcha.”

Her lips twitched into a half smile. “Yes, I know your brother. Yes, it's business related. No, I don't think he's dead. If I'm right, he's gone to ground and will contact me soon. He's in danger.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, your brother works for us. He's a spy.”

© 2016 Dellani Oakes

ToBuy Dellani's Books

Red River Radio Podcast of the Week from May 27, 2015 Tirgearr Publishing City Nights Authors

I've decided to start something different here at Writer's Sanctuary. As some of you know, I do monthly broadcasts on Blog Talk Radio. I have shared the links in my Twitter feed, but I thought I'd start to feature one a week here. They won't be in any kind of order, but I hope you'll go back and listen to your favorite authors or find new ones.

I'm so fortunate to be able to do this show. I've met and chatted with the famous and not so famous, and had a wonderful time. Dellani's Tea Time and What's Write for Me are all about having fun, getting to know the authors as people, and sharing our lives and laughter for a couple of hours.

So please, sit back and listen again (or for the first time) to these wonderful people. The first show I'm listing is near and dear to my heart. I have a wonderful publisher, based I Ireland, Tirgearr Publishing. They have a fantastic series of erotic romances called The City Nights Series. Each book is in a different city, worldwide, and takes place in 24 hours. As erotic romances, these are a 50/50 blend of story line and hot love scenes, loads of fun to write!

This podcast features Kemberlee Shortland, Troy Lambert, Lucy Felthouse, C. Margery Kempe, JD Martins, Jaz Hartfield, Kristi Ahlers, and Megan Morgan,

Tirgearr Publishing City Nights Authors May 27, 2015