IPink and Red, Stay in Bed!

No, I don't mean THAT--get your mind out of the gutter! I'm saying Valentine's day is a menace and all sane people should avoid it like the plague.

Am I the only one who feels the day should be banned?

I've never liked it. When I was single, I whined and moaned about the cards I didn't receive, felt like a failure because I didn't have anyone to send me overpriced flowers, and consoled myself with the proactive step of buying my own darn chocolates and gaining ten pounds in...victory. When I was dating, my thrill lasted until I bent my head to smell the bouquet and discovered, upon closer examination, the roses were invariably brown and bit crusted on the edges and smelled like...nothing. And now that I'm married and know how much those stupid flowers cost, I resent the purchase...and yet if my husband actually listens to my pre-V-day whining and doesn't get me anything, I'm crushed. Crushed! How stupid is that?

Some would call this clear evidence of the fickleness of women. I think the Valentine's day promotion is to blame--nothing can be as good as the hallmark commercial. And if something seems too good to be true, maybe it is.

If only Jo Gartner of UNDERDEAD had stuck to her guns the first time she sees Will...


Flickering lights from the dance floor slid over his chiseled features, briefly illuminating strong cheekbones before getting lost in the dark hollows below. He had one of those long, lean bodies, with just the right amount of muscle, and dark, slightly wavy hair that hung to his shoulders in a way that made my stomach lurch.

As if sensing my regard, he suddenly turned his head from the shadows and looked directly at me. I did an embarrassing deer-in-the-headlights thing and our eyes locked. His eyes were the most gorgeous blue I’d ever seen. I mean piercingly blue. Meltingly blue. A sharp desire to be closer to him slammed me like a wave.

He was gorgeous. Too gorgeous. Sanity returned. I turned my back to him.

"No way,” I said. “There’s something wrong with him.”

“What? What is wrong with him?” Carol demanded.

“He’s boring, he’s vain, he has six wives in various countries, he lives in a yurt with fifteen Chihuahuas, he sells deodorant for a living—I don’t know, but no one can be that good-looking and have a personality.”

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Carol said. “What a load of crap! Stop inventing reasons to avoid talking to him. If you want to forgo meeting fabulous men to sit here with the likes of us for the rest of your life, be my guest.” Her glasses had slid down her nose and she glared over the top of them at me.

“What she said,” Becky added. “Though I don’t know why you’d even care if he has thirty wives and eats deodorant for a living. You don’t need to have him around for scintillating conversation—look at him! He’s so hot he doesn’t need a personality. What do you want to talk to him for anyway?”

“Gotta love liberated women,” I muttered. “Equal opportunity chauvinism.”




2008 EPPIE Award nominated UNDERDEAD is hot off the press in paperback!
http://www.jasminejade.com/p-3894-underdead.aspx?skinid=13

"Light-hearted mystery with a touch of the paranormal nad a hint of romance is a recipe for a just about perfect read." ~~Huntress Reviews


I say take control of Valentine's day--buy yourself a good book and a box of chocolates and you'll know you'll have fun!

For reviews and all of chapter one, visit my website: www.lizjasper.com