Last Phrase

Today’s blog is brought to you by the phrase: Clam Jam

Sami Lee and Lexxie Couper joined in today. This is the last day for our fun with words and phrases. I know I’ve enjoyed it and I hope you did as well. Without further ado…

 

Jambrea Jo Jones

“It’s a regular clam jam in here.” Fred exclaimed as they walked into the bar.

Henry looked around in surprised. Usually the place was packed with men.

“Must be ladies night.” Henry shrugged. “Does it matter?” He took Fred’s hand in his.

“No, because I get to dance with you no matter what.”

“So you’re happy?”

“I am. And maybe a little shocked.”

“So now would be a good time to tell you—mom-is-staying-for-another-week.”

“What did you say?”

Henry smiled and tugged Fred to the bar.

 

Mari Carr

“You ready to go?” Brittany asked.

“Um, no,” Shea replied. “Do you see me talking to Jason? I think I’ve got a shot.:

“Sorry, I’m just really tired. Please?”

Shea rolled her eyes. “Typical clam jam. Fine. Let’s go.”

 

Sami Lee

“If you don’t get over there soon, that bitch is going to clam jam you.”

Tessa almost choked on the mouthful of white wine she’d just sipped. She stared at her friend Helena. “What on earth does that mean?”

“It’s like cock blocking for chicks,” Helena explained. “Don’t you read the urban dictionary?”

“Not regularly enough, apparently,” Tessa drawled. She glanced across the crowded boardroom to see Sean—handsome, athletic, talented Sean—talking to the receptionist who’d just started working at Walter and Shilton Lawyers. The woman was doing that arm-touching thing, the universal body language for ‘I am totally up for it’.

Tessa clutched her wine glass as everything in her chest pulled tight. Women were always coming onto Sean, and it never failed to make Tessa feel queasy.

“You know you have to do something, don’t you?” Helena prompted gently. “Forget the stupid no-fraternization policy. You need to tell Sean you’ve got the hots for him before some other woman scoops him up.”

Tessa winced inwardly at the very thought of walking straight up to Sean, the most handsome and successful lawyer at Walter and Shilton, and telling him she’d been having inappropriate daydreams about ripping his shirt off and doing him right on his expansive oak desk.

Not going to happen. Ever.

 

Lexxie Couper

He handed me a tiny square of toasted bread with something dark and mushy spread on it.

I took a sniff. “What is it?”

He grinned. “It’s delicious. Eat it.”

I cocked a dubious eyebrow.

He grinned again, wider this time. “Go on. Eat it.”

I took another sniff. “And you say this is caviar?”

He nodded.

I pulled a face. “Smells like clam jam.”

It’s Friday! Let’s play.

Today’s blog is brought to you by the word: Fuckerdoodle

Sami Lee, Lexxie Couper and Valerie Tibbs are joining in this round!

 

Jambrea Jo Jones

Fred walked in on an argument with Henry and his mom. He almost turned around, but he heard the woman say something he never thought would come out of her mouth.

“Fuckerdoodle.”

“Mom!”

“What did I miss?” Fred looked between mother and son.

“Henry was just—ah—putting me in my place? I’m sorry, Fred.”

Fred shook his head because he couldn’t have heard what he did. That woman was never nice to him.

“Don’t look so shocked. A girl can be wrong. Shawn was a friend of the family and I’m sorry I let that get in the way of knowing you. Now, why don’t you boys go do something fun. Get out of my hair for awhile.”

She got up and patted Fred on his shoulder before heading out the door.

 

Mari Carr

Using Happy Hour Characters

Todd sighed wearily. “Damn, I’m tired. I swear that week felt like it had twelve days. Can’t think straight anymore.”

“I hear that. How many more days until summer?” Jeff asked, trying to suppress a yawn.

“Fifty-seven,” Todd replied, not missing a beat.

Jeff winced.

Jenny rested her head on her hand, relishing the opportunity to unwind at the quiet bar with Todd and Jeff, two of her fellow P.E. teachers one Friday afternoon. “Did you hear that woman at the next table?”

“No. What did she say?” Todd looked over his shoulder to see who Jenny was talking about in a less than subtle way.

“She was telling her friend how she won’t be on the continent next weekend. She sounds British to me. I was just thinking that’s a cool way to say that. I mean we just say we’re leaving the country.”

Jeff took a long swig from his bottle of Budweiser. “Who says continent anyway? I don’t even remember the names of the continents or how many there are.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “There are five continents, fuckerdoodle.”

Todd nodded his head. “Yep. There are five. I bet you two can’t name them.”

Jeff laughed. “You’re only daring us because you can’t. But I know one. Australia. I think that’s a continent. Oh wait. Shit, nope, that’s an island.”

Jenny snorted. “Australia is a continent AND an island. Jeez. Where did you go to elementary school?”

Jeff shot her a dirty look. “Like you’re so freaking smart. You haven’t named any.”

Jenny began ticking them off on her fingers. “There’s North and South America, Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia and Antarctica.” She looked at her hands and laughed. “Oops. There are seven continents.”

Todd looked around the bar, confirming no one had heard their conversation. “Maybe we should just order another round.”

 

Sami Lee

What did the rooster say to the hen? Let me Fuckerdoodledo you!

 

Lexxie Couper

He stood before me, arms outstretched, a grin on his face that told me loud and clear he was God’s gift to women. “So? What do you think? Lucky, aren’t you?”

I looked at his package and suppressed a grimace. Damn, a damn toothpick had more wood than this guy. This is what I got for losing a game of strip poker set up by my maniacal best friend. Now I had to spend the night with Mr. Tiny. I was going to kill her.

Nope. You bought this on yourself. You boasted no one could bet you at poker, now you have to face the consequences.

I grimaced again. One of these days I’d learn my lesson.

“Never left a single woman dissatisfied,” Mr. Tiny crowed, giving his hips a wiggled. “Ready for this roaster to rock your world?”

Letting out a ragged sigh at Mr. Tiny’s woeful mix metaphor, I raised my gaze back to his face and forced a smile to my lips. “Cock-a-doodle-do?”

More like fuck-a-doodle-do.

Oh man, I was in for a fun night.

 

Valerie Tibbs

Writing blog posts is a real fuckerdoodle to my brain. Going to the gym is a big fuckerdoodle.

The Phrase for Thursday

Today’s blog is brought to you by the phrase: Jesus tits on a whore

And no, Mari doesn’t get extra points for using it twice! Lol!!!  T gave us just a bit to help out this time.

Oh…a reminder…I didn’t come up with these words and phrase and Mari didn’t come up with them. Nope. People in our yahoo group, Heat Wave Readers, came up with them! lol

Jambrea Jo Jones

“Jesus tits on a whore, Mother, stop.”

“Henry!” His mother had her mouth open, one hand on her chest and the other reaching back for a chair.

“No. I’m tired of you telling anyone who will listen that Fred isn’t good enough for me. If anything, I’m not good enough for him.” Henry crossed his arms over his chest.

“Of all the—” She fell back into the chair.

“No. I’m talking now. You’ve driving Fred out of his own house and if you want to continue staying here, you will respect him or I will call the hotel.” Henry pointed a finger at his mother.

“I’ve never!” She huffed.

“Well, maybe you should.”Henry hovered over her, his hands now on his hips.

“But what about…”

“Shawn? He cheated on my mom. A lot. So you will not talk about him again. Clear?”

 

Mari Carr

“So she looked right at me, frustrated and mad as hell, and she said ‘Jesus tits on a whore!’ So I said—”

“Tits on a boar?” Harvey asked.

Martha shook her head. “No, whore. She said whore.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Martha rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what it means. That’s not the point of my story.”

Harvey unfastened the top button on his pants and slouched back on the couch, belching under his breath. The scent of the liver and onions they’d have for dinner reached Martha clear across the room and she scrunched up her nose in disgust.

Harvey grumbled. “Seems a bit stupid to say something like that. Jesus was a man. He didn’t have tits.”

Martha crossed her arms. “Are you going to let me finish my story or not?”

“All I’m saying is that expression makes no sense. Why would Esther say something that doesn’t make sense?”

Martha shook her head, her own frustration growing. “Jesus tits on a whore, who cares what it means. I was trying to tell a story.”

Harvey farted, picking meat out of his teeth with his fingernail. “So tell it already, but hurry up. Law and Order is on in a minute.”

Martha threw up her hands. “Forget it. It’s not important!” She stormed out of the room, leaving a grinning Harvey relaxing on the couch.

“Finally. Some peace and quiet,” he murmured as he reached for the remote.

 

T from TsCraftyWays

Jesus tits on a whore my back hurts.

Word of the Day…

Today’s blog is brought to you by the word: Cockamamie

Bianca D’Arc and Rhian Cahill are joining in for the fun today!

 

Jambrea Jo Jones

He’d had enough of this cockamamie bullshit and it was going to stop now. Henry loved his mother with all of his heart, but she had to stop getting on Fred’s case. Henry was happier than he’d ever been, but if he heard the name Shawn one more time he was going to blow a gasket. The visit was supposed to be short because his mom was going to his sisters, but something had come up at the last minute and she had to stay.

I love my mother, I love my mother. I will not kill her. I love my mother.

Henry hoped Fred didn’t make him sleep on the couch for a month once he found out Henry’s mother was staying for another week.

 

Mari Carr

“What kind of cockamamie bullshit is this?”

Jessica looked up when her roommate, Russ, walked into her bedroom and tossed a book down on her bed.

She blushed, quickly tucking the book behind several others on a shelf. Russ had been out of town all weekend, returning at the crack of dawn and far earlier than she’d expected him. She’d had far too much wine last night, reading the instruction manual from cover to cover before foolishly leaving it on the coffee table and stumbling to bed to try out the suggestions it offered. “Um. It’s just a joke.”

Russ crossed his arms and studied her face. “A joke? Forgive me, but I’m trying to figure out what’s funny about a beautiful, sexy woman like you reading a book about how to have an orgasm. Is there something you want to tell me, Jess?”

She laughed nervously. Hell would freeze over before she admitted to her handsome roommate that she’d never managed to have an orgasm. It was bad enough she’d wasted twenty bucks on the thing. She’d tried—unsuccessfully—for nearly two hours last night to achieve the elusive climax with her fingers, her vibrator, a bullet and a dildo. Nothing worked.

Jessica glanced around the room quickly, suddenly worried Russ would spot her pile of sex toys. God, could this whole thing be any more humiliating?

“Jess? I’m waiting for an answer.”

“It’s a gag gift.”

“For who?”

Jessica paused, searching for a name. She was a terrible liar and Russ knew it. Her face flamed hotter and her mind went blank. “Uh…”

“Forget it, Jess. I’ll save you from having to lie to me. Take off your clothes. I’m going to give you some thing I’m damn sure that silly book didn’t.”

 

Bianca D’Arc

Who’s cockamamie idea was it to go on a man hunt in a shifter bar? Probably her friend Bonnie’s idea of a joke, but the joke was on her when a yummy werewolf had asked her to dance and refused to let her go after just one. Suzi wasn’t sure what she was doing here, but the eye candy was definitely drool-worthy as she looked around at the handsome, well-built men. She felt a little like Little Bo Peep who’s sheep just got eaten by the Big Bad Wolf. And he was heading her way. Look out, boys. Little Red Riding Hood was about to catch herself a wolf.

 

Rhian Cahill

“That has to be the most cockamamie idea you’ve ever come up with.” Billy shook his head. “Do you really think that’s gonna get you the girl? Dude. You need to get some new moves.”

“What? I thought women liked to take care of men.”

“Yeah, but not ones pretending to be injured after chasing down a pretend robber.”

“Look, it’ll work if you just do as I said and make sure it looks real.”

Shit! Brian might be Billy’s best friend in the whole world but even that wasn’t enough to get him to go alone with this plan. “Hell no! Find some other chump to help.”

Phrase of the Day…

Today’s blog is brought to you by the phrase: Oh, but no.

This week is about showing you how authors can take the same words but give you a different feel. Bianca D’Arc  and Lexxie Couper came out to play with us today. With no further ado…

 

Jambrea Jo Jones

Fred went for a walk. He needed to get away from his shrew of a mother-in-law. She was always nagging and telling him he wasn’t good enough for her Henry. Shit it even sounded like her in his head. He couldn’t escape.

Fred was a doctor with his own practice and an ER rotation. He had saved many lives in his day, but no, that wasn’t good enough for her Henry. Henry shouldn’t have to work. Henry should have kids to look after and Fred didn’t spend enough time with Henry.

Henry tried to tell him mom to back off—came to Fred’s defense more times than he could count, but she would come back with—oh, but no, you aren’t good enough, not like that nice boy—what was his name. Shawn was his name and they both new it. Damn it, she couldn’t leave fast enough.

 

Mari Carr

Mari sighed as she kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the ottoman. “What should we blog about this week? New releases? General observations about life? Sex toys?”

“Sex toys?” Jambrea asked.

“Why not? We’ve both recently gotten some new ones we like.”

Jambrea laughed. “No. What if we do some original writing? Something funny and fun? We could get the ladies on the Heat Wave yahoo group to give us weird phrases and words that we have to use in paragraphs.”

Mari crinkled her nose. “That sounds like hard work.”

Jambrea rolled eyes and giggled. “Shut up. We’re doing it.” She began clicking away on her computer as Mari took a sip of wine and stretched lazily.

Within ten minutes, Jambrea—with the help of friends—had generated the most bizarre list of words and phrases in history. “Here. Here’s what we’re going to write about.”

Mari looked over the list, with one eyebrow raised. “Seriously?”

Jambrea nodded.

“Great.” Mari’s tone betrayed the fact she was less than enthusiastic. “You realize we could have been talking about my amazing new little bullet that has two speeds—fast and OMFG. Oh, but no…you decide you’d rather write about fuckerdoodles, clam jams and cockamamie shit like that!”

Jambrea crossed her arms, giving Mari a no-nonsense look. “Just write.”

“Okay.”

 

Bianca D’Arc

Oh, but no way was Sally going to put up with that kind of garbage. She kicked off her stiletto heels and got ready to kick some major ass. Who cares if her opponent was bigger and stronger? Sally was fast and small, and really pissed off. Time to let the werewolf know just how much of a bitch she could be.

 

Lexxie Couper

Oh, but no.

No.

No no no.

There was no way in hell he was putting that thing anywhere near me.

No.

He gave me a crooked smile, and dropped me a wink.

“It won’t hurt,” he promised, moving closer, his fingers wrapped around the daunting length of the device. Device? Huh! More like—

“I guarantee you won’t feel pain. Now open wide.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, closed my eyes and nodded. I trusted him. He was my dentist after all.

The needle pierced the inside of my mouth.

The fucking bastard lied. It hurt like hell!