I started dying my hair purple a little over three years ago. This was one of those instances where my husband reminded me why we got married. I called him at work and told him I was going to dye my hair purple and his actual response was, "You should get a massage too."

Husband lottery winner...me.

That first time, I went to someone's house and had them do it for me. They did a shit job. SHIT. They brought over my current favorite hair dye Joico to layer over the top of the crappy dye job, and that product SAVED my hair. I learned a couple of things during that first round of hair color.

1. Don't trust someone you don't know to dye your hair in their house.
2. My hair soaks up a LOT of color.

I took to YouTube to get the skinny on home hair coloring, and fell down a few beauty guru holes. (Shout out to Guy Tang and all the hair besties out there.)

It's taken me a few years to get a routine down that I feel comfortable with. The best part? It doesn't involve leaving my house or having someone I don't know touch my head. All the other social hermits out there know exactly what I'm talking about. 

Quite a few people have asked me what products I use and how I do my hair. Here's the thing. I am not a professional. I am no where near skilled at hair. I just don't like other people to touch me, and I know if I want bright color like this to last, it needs to sit for HOURS. Literally. I keep this on my head for hours to get the saturation I do. Could I screw up someday and have my hair fall out? Absolutely. But if you're still interested. Here's how I do my hair complete with selfies of how weird I look during this 8-10 hour process.

***Kids, don't try this at home. And if you really are a kid, how did you find my website? I am totally not for you. Go find your parents.***

This is my before pic. Note the old ratty tank top. It's paired with pants covered in paint, bleach, and dye stains. The pants have a few too many holes in them to be decent for public viewing. Basically, I use clothing that will never see the light of day again, because I will get crap all over it.

I hold out as long as I can before upping my color. My roots are usually around 3/4 of an inch or longer at this point, and my hair has faded to a light silvery color. 

I'm usually drinking my coffee and stalling at this point. After enough caffeine, I'll gather all my goodies. Along with lots of other home hair dye folks, I use L'oreal Quick Blue bleach. I pair it with 30 vol developer, because my natural hair color is a dark brown, and unless I wanted to bleach twice (I don't want to.), I need the kick. 

I'll grab my hair dye towels, my mixing bowls, and brushes. After I've got as much of my bathroom covered as possible, it's time to start the marathon.

Step 1: I straighten my hair.

This is a process in and of itself. Because I have a lot of it, and I don't use any products in my hair for a full twenty-four hours to allow the dye to soak in easier. So I've got knots galore. But that's cool. Because up next, I'm going to hack those knots off.

Step 2: I cut my hair.

Now that I really have all the professional hair peeps cringing... (Don't read on. It will get worse.)

Yes. I cut my own hair. I have been doing it for a little over a year. All I am doing is cutting off the same amount as my roots have grown out. I keep my hair longer so it's easier to cut. A couple inches off the length, and some long layers around my face, and I'm good to go. 

Step 3: Sexy Sections

I don't want to bleach over the hair that is already lightened. So I section off my hair to let me get to the base easier when I have my gloved hands digging into the bleach goo.

I start at the bottom and work my way up, because the heat from my scalp will send the bleach into overdrive. And I care a lot less if the hair at the nape of my neck breaks, so letting that section cook the longest saves me a little on the stress.

Step 4: Bleach It Good

I start a timer before I put the first drop of bleach on my head. I want to know how long I have had this stuff on my hair. And I lose track of time far too easily to trust my memory. After I hit all my roots, if I want to add some lighter sections, I wait until the last ten minutes of my own time management and run the bleach down any hair I want to lighten.

This time I had a wild hair up my ass and wanted to try to add some blue into the mix. So I pulled a couple of streaks to the front just to see how it would turn out. 

As this cooks, I clean up my mixing bowls and brushes, and all the bleach I got on my neck, arms, and face. 

After the hair is lightened to a decent yellow color, I wash my hair a few times with a clarifying shampoo, and blow dry.

Step 5: Freak Out

This is the point in the process where it always looks like I'm going bald. When you've got dark roots and they are suddenly light, you see a lot more scalp. 

Without fail, I freak out at this point and assume I have ruined my hair. I use as little conditioner as possible in the shower so the color will soak in. I hit the ends hard and detangle gently with my fingers. No, it is not lifted as high as a lot of people do. That's the beauty of purple hair dye. Purple is a natural toner, and will work even if you don't have platinum hair. Colors like pinks, and blues will distort with a yellow base. Which is why I went purple in the first place.

After a blow dry, and maybe a shot, I get my color mixed and pray for the best.

Step 6: Color, Wrap, Bag

I don't have any shots of myself mid-color. No one is usually home with me when I'm at this step. And I don't want my phone to be ruined. I slathered my blue streaks first, and made little space buns to pin them out of the way, and then set to work loading up the purple. 

My hair EATS color. It took me two and a half tubes of Joico Indigo, and that is with cutting it with conditioner. I keep the mix heavy on color. You can use Joico straight over the hair without cutting it, and the deep purple is stunning. But I don't want to think about how much color I would have to buy to do it. And I like the idea of a conditioner in the mix considering what comes next. 

I also eat cookies at this point. Because I deserve a cookie. Normally by now we are into the process for 3-4 hours.

Step 7: Try Not To Get Purple Dye on ANYTHING

This is the waiting stage. This is another reason I put off re-upping my color. I leave the dye on until I can't stand it anymore. I tend to make it between four and six hours.

I'll wash dishes, work in my office, vacuum, or anything else that has me sitting or standing upright and away from upholstery. 

In the last ten minutes before I wash the dye out, I blast the outside of the bag with my hair dryer to lock in the color.

Step 8: Shower, but NO SHAMPOO!

No, ya pervs. I didn't take a picture of me showering.

But the important part of this is NO SHAMPOO. I use a little more conditioner to scrub my scalp and remove as much of the color residue as possible, but if my scalp is purple, I'm not going to stress about it. Shampoo is the death of color, so I leave my hair without a shampoo for at least 4 days after I color it.

I blow dry my hair and straighten it so I can get a good look at the color and see if I missed a spot. 

Honestly, I have missed spots, but by this point I'm tenish hours in. Even if I have a band or a lighter spot, I don't care enough to redo the process.

Joico has a beautiful fade to it. So as it lightens all those places where it's not as saturated, or the bleach didn't hit as well, look like intentional highlights or lowlights. (Don't underestimate the power of the words "Mermaid Hair". This is what I call my look when it's faded. You can call any hair color intentional and rock it.)

​

Step 9: Take ALL the Selfies

Indoor lighting, natural lighting, light makeup, dark makeup. Take pictures. All the pictures.

This is the only time my hair is this bright. And I make sure to position myself to hide any purple spots that inevitably get all over my arms. 

One of these days I'll be smart enough to get my photographer friend to take pictures of me when I have fresh color, but this wasn't that day. 

I don't do the cold shower thing. Because life is too short and I don't want to. So my hair does fade, but with the long soak I give it, I usually get two or three months of bright color before it fades completely. 


That's it! When you see me post "It's Hair Day!" on social media, this is what I'm doing. I spend my day locked in my house, not going anywhere. Sooo...maybe it's not that different from a regular day. ;)

Again, don't do this. I hold no responsibility if you destroy your hair. I only have responsibility over mine. And right now, I'm going to have fun with it. 

~Roxy

Paisley can't contain her intelligence or her sass in an interview. See how her first interaction with the Department of Mechanical Affairs went in the following scene.

She was already standing, so she walked toward the double doors of despair. She would have to tell Coral the interviewers were mean to her. Or that they didn’t want such an attractive woman working around the magistrate, because the boss’s wife would have been pissed. Something. She could think of that while she bombed the interview.

“That’s me,” Paisley said, and tried to walk with confidence, but ended up doing a horribly non-rhythmic strut she immediately abandoned when more than a few people stared. She looked like she was in the middle of a mild seizure.

“Right this way, please.”

Paisley entered a room that held a large conference table covered with robots. Some were small and on top of the table, and some were self-ambulatory.

The man who had called her name before motioned for her to sit in the lone chair on her side of the table. She was placed at a mechanical buffet. Too bad she felt like she was about to be eaten alive.

“We are doing something different for this interview, Miss Compton. As a secretary to Coral Sechshundert in the Department of Mechanical Affairs, you will need to interact with mechanical elements of all different types. Some will be bots that are owned by the building and some are beings who are applying for their certificate of humanity to become a full-fledged member of society with the rights allowed them. Please address each being in front of you as you would interact with them if they approached your desk.”

Paisley now understood why many people in the waiting area came out so quickly. Most of the smaller bots on the table were highly specialized mechanics. The general public most likely didn’t have a baseboard cleaning bot, or a window cleaner or a cobweb remover. The vacuum bot was a pretty common model, so that was the gimme of the group.

The first bot, which was sitting in a chair, didn’t have a head. That didn’t mean it wasn’t self-aware.

The first mistake people made when working with mechanics was assuming human appearance meant human inner workings.

No head did not mean no brain. No head just meant the designer did not see the need to make the bot appear more human. This bot was probably an industrial worker. Paisley noticed a speaker near where a human’s chest would be.

“Please forgive me if I’m being forward, but are you able to see me? Or should I speak with more detail if I have questions? I don’t see a visual data receptor.”

The bot immediately whirred to life. A series of clicks and an optical module ascended from the middle of its frame.

“Visual data receptor engaged. Please relay next command.”

Well, that one definitely wasn’t self-aware. Waiting for commands was a sure sign that it only performed based on a specific voice prompt and could not interpret different terminology.

She spoke as clearly as she could. “Disengage command prompt.”

The bot immediately retracted its ocular unit and slumped into a more relaxed state.

Moving onto the next bot, Paisley noticed its more human appearance. Eyes whirred to life as she moved in front of the android, letting her know it had focused on her.

“Hello. I’m Paisley. Are you being reimbursed for your time here? Or are you being forced into this?”

The bot triple-blinked and copied some of Paisley’s movements with its hands and posture. The mirroring was a tic of the artificial intelligence software gaining data.

“They have offered me an immediate review of my application for my certificate of humanity. Being that I have not been approved yet, I do not get to earn my own income.”

Paisley turned toward the man she was probably supposed to impress with this interaction and frowned. “You’re forcing a humanoid to be present like an exhibit without compensation? That’s shitty.”

The man sucked his lip in between his teeth and wrote something on his clipboard before he responded. “Might I remind you, Miss Compton, that you are here to interview for a position. I asked you to interact with the mechanics. I do not recall asking your opinion of our process.”

Paisley turned to the humanoid and, looking it straight in the eye, repeated, “That’s shitty. If I were you, I would keep track of the time you have spent in here for this project.” She leaned in, and once again the robot followed. “The government uses what they call consultants. They won’t employ robots officially until the laws are reviewed, but working here all day—I am assuming without a break—you will rack up some serious hours. I bet they would just pay you rather than address a lawsuit were you to sue them.”

The robot held still for a moment, and then replied, “All of that is duly noted. Thank you, Paisley Compton.”

“You’re very welcome.”

She went to the next chair without looking back at her interviewer. She’d probably already pissed this guy off. There was no need to continue the interview for the job, but she could show the dude up. Once a bot could tell it was being screwed over, treating it like an appliance was cruel.

The next robot was a simple serving bot. Most of the bot’s body was made up of welded points that showed no ability for additional movement. Artificial intelligence wasn’t installed on immobile units. They usually responded to basic commands.

“Power up,” Paisley said loudly.

The machine booted. “Service mode or removal mode?”

Paisley turned back to her interviewer. “Did you want me to offer you a drink?”

“Not necessary.” He took more notes.

“Power down.”

The bot turned off.

Paisley was at the end of the table. She could stall and make her interviewer more uncomfortable, but she needed to get out of here before she got Coral in trouble by association.

“Did you want me to try and run diagnostics on them? You only have one bot with artificial intelligence who would be a candidate for a certificate of humanity. A bot you aren’t compensating for its time.”

At that, the aforementioned bot leaned forward. “I gender identify as female.”

Paisley nodded. “That you aren’t compensating for her time.”

The interviewer held his ear, frowned emphatically, but his disapproval obviously didn’t matter, because he tilted his head as if someone had yelled at him and nodded.

He hung his clipboard on the wall and gestured toward a door on the opposite side of the room from where she’d entered. “After you, Miss Compton.”

Paisley looked at the solid door with a small translucent window. The glass was frosted and contained metal reinforcements. It looked like something that would keep troubled people locked away from sharp objects.

“You first,” she said.

The man sighed heavily and opened the door. He stepped through and held it open for Paisley. “Come on, please. This is heavy.”

Paisley walked through and saw Magistrate Ralph Winters himself seated at a long table, facing what was a two-way mirror. He had been watching her. So she not only annoyed the interviewer, she probably was going to be arrested or fined for messing up their deal with the droid.

“Have a seat, Miss Compton,” he said.

Grab your copy today! Available in both ebook and print!

EBOOK available at
AMAZON, Barnes & Noble, KOBO, and iTunes

PRINT available at
AMAZON, Createspace

After I fell in love with the cover QDesign created for Virgin on Human, I knew I wanted her to keep the streak going. So working with Amy from QDesign on a series idea, we decided Coral wasn't the only character that needed to kick up her heels. 

If you've read Virgin on Human, you already met this next book's heroine, Paisley. Paisley's book came about from my editor at Samhain Publishing (RIP) basically demanding her story.

And I had to get it done, because she was not the quietest character, and her story came screaming from my head a lot like Coral's did. As a bonus, Paisley needed more than one man to keep her happy. 

Hot men. 

Men with upgrades. 

I wanted to keep the same bright striking imagery as QDesign brought to the first cover. And she completely came through.

Here is the brand new cover for the re-release of Interlocking Hearts.  

So what do you think? Notice the three gears in the background? It's a hint at how the three characters all need each other to "come together". 
​

Interlocking Hearts will be up for pre-order soon. Check back for the links!  

~Roxy

I'm working on a draft for some more #ROBOSEX at the moment, but until I can wrap up this couple in a tidy bow, I thought I'd share a taste of Coral's story. 

The Coral-600 is a biometal mechanical entity with a human skin overlay infused with sea life DNA. This means she will basically be young and hot for an indeterminate period of time. But as much as you'd think you'd want to hate her because of that, her innocence and joy at her body's reaction to desire will put a smile on your face. 

Coral's desire wakes up inside her when a man named Quinn comes to stay at the palace. After a long night of dancing and learning just a little about the human mating rituals, Coral finds herself alone with Quinn.  

Enjoy this excerpt from Virgin on Human

All of my preparation went out the window when Quinn entered the kitchen as I cleaned up the remaining dishes.

“Quinn, you missed dinner. Should I prepare something for you? The chefs have left, but I am programmed with basic culinary skills.” I put the dish back into the soapy water and dried my hands on the dish towel I had slung over my shoulder.

“Are you really going out with Paisley to get laid tonight?” He asked me with his hands on his hips. His manner was very confrontational.

“That does not answer my question about the food.”

“I want an answer to my question first.” He folded his arms over his chest. His forearms flexed and I admired the musculature under his skin. I wondered if any of his arms were mechanics.

“I was planning on dancing more. I was not planning on lying down.”

He exhaled and dropped his arms. “Then yes, I would love a sandwich.”

I prepared him a sandwich and removed some of the fennel salad to put on his plate as well. I waited for him to make noises of contentment around his meal before I continued the conversation. “I will, however, have sex should the opportunity arise. I find myself anticipating the opportunity to have another orgasm.”

Quinn began choking. He had inhaled his sandwich. That was no way to process nutrients. I walked behind him and slapped him on the back to break up any large particles in his airway. He sputtered and made noises, but drank the water I put in front of him and seemed to recover nicely.

I would have given him the Heimlich maneuver, but I found myself wanting to touch him in other places and it would not have been easy to keep my hands in the proper position.

“Coral, you can’t go pick up men and have sex with them.”

“I will do my best to give them an orgasm as well. I want to make sure the experience is satisfactory for all parties involved.” I went back to the dishes. Quinn should have been satisfied now that I had explained I would not be seeking only my pleasure.

He wasn’t.

“That’s not what I am getting at.” He got up and stood right behind me. My skin felt warmer even without him touching me. Was there some kind of strange reaction that our systems had with each other?

I pulled the drain as I set the last clean dish in the drying rack and turned towards the man behind me. I was going to explain that this was not negotiable. I was going to explain that just because I was mechanics didn’t mean I couldn’t give and receive this kind of pleasure.

I had all of the words in queue to be processed through my vocal chords. Then Quinn gripped me by my upper arms and leaned in to kiss me. His lips pressed against mine. His body pushed mine up against the sink behind us.

I’d never been more uncomfortable in my maid’s uniform. I wanted all of it off. Quinn couldn’t touch my pussy with my stockings and underwear on. He needed to touch my pussy. I felt myself getting wet at the thought of him touching me like he did last night. I pressed my hips against his. That’s when I knew there were mechanics in both his arms, because he held me tight.

His tongue slipped against my lips. I opened my mouth to ask him why he was licking me on my face when he could have been licking my pussy again. Instead of my argument my tongue was busy wrapping and sliding around Quinn’s. This felt good too.

I lifted my hands to his chest and gripped his shirt to pull him closer. When he realized I was not going to push him away he released my arms and wrapped his strong limbs around me. One hand rose to grip the French twist in my hair and move my head where he wanted while he kissed me. The other hand went lower and gripped my ass. He pressed my body harder against his. I liked that.

​His erection pressed against my stomach and I wanted to have sex even more. If my pleasure receptors were firing off this much data at the touch of his penis on my belly… through all these layers of clothes…I wanted to have sex. Immediately. 

How was that for a first kiss? I wish mine had been that explosive. But then again, I didn't wait ninety-some odd years to have one. Coral had some anticipation built up. 

Have you read my first #ROBOSEX book? What did you think? And what would you like to see in the series?

​~Roxy

**NOTE**  This was originally posted on my Facebook wall after a few too many cocktails. If you want just my normal book updates, you can like my FB Page. Either way, I need to drink when I write more often. 


Dear skinny girl... I know you opened up to me, and told me you felt bad being so thin. I know you were complaining that it was hard for you to gain weight. You told me about the doctor that didn't take you seriously when you were worried about your health. You told me people made fun of you for being so thin.

I listened. I hope I was a friend. But I realized through the conversation I never said, "You're beautiful."

That was my mistake. Because you are. And not because you are a standard of beauty I will never achieve. You are beautiful because you laugh with your whole body, smile with your whole face, and give out complements alongside sage advice. And because you aren't afraid to tell those around you to fuck off.

You're also beautiful because you're athletic, and agile. You're beautiful because your muscles are visible, and help us all appreciate parts of the human body we never see in ourselves. Your hands are delicate and graceful, and when you talk animatedly, you use them and it's like a show.

You also get to take your bra off at the end of the night and not risk bodily injury to yourself or your bedmate.

You're beautiful.

Dear fat girl... I know your story too. I know the ways you hide your thighs and your tummy at all costs. I know that you don't ride the roller coasters, not because you don't want to, but because you're terrified the safety restraints won't latch.
I know your doctor doesn't take any of your health issues seriously because your doctor tells you to diet instead of running a simple test just to check on you.

When you'd talk, I'd listen, I'd relate, and I'd quote the latest body positive quote that knocked down the skinny girl, because we need to realize we're okay even if we'll never have a thigh gap.

But I made a mistake. I never said, we're all beautiful. Not just those of us with curves. And our beauty is not reliant on the disgust of others.

Dear fat girl...you are beautiful. The sexy curve of your back as it folds around your lush ass is incredible. Your cleavage that goes on for days and makes anyone die for a motor-boating trip is hot. Your soft skin that begs to be stroked, is stunning.
Your smile creases around your lips and you can't hide joy if you tried.

Dear me... We've been the fat girl. We've been the hot girl. We've never really been the skinny girl unless we devoted our entire life to it, but that kind of sucked.

Dear me...look in the mirror and see your smile. Look in the mirror and take joy in the fact that with the increased weight, clothes fit you better. Look at how you've grown to realize what makes you happy to decorate your body with, and what makes you feel beautiful.

Dear woman reading this...find your mirror. Look into it and smile, and realize your own beauty. Complement your sisters. But perhaps more importantly, complement yourself. The human body is ever-changing, and we have it for such a short period of time. Our bodies are beautiful. You are beautiful.

Do you want to wear that bright pink lipstick? Do it.

Do you think tattoos are stunning? Get one.

Do you want to dye your hair? I'll lend you my bleach.

Decorate your body how you see fit. Play with it. Have fun with it. Then look in the mirror and smile.

Dear woman reading this...you're beautiful.

~Roxy

Gotta admit. I’ve passed this bad boy a few times in the wine aisles and thought, “I should try that one.” I mean…come on. It says “naked” on the bottle.
 
The labels of The Naked Grape also have a little saying on each of the labels. This one says,
 
Naked Truth #4: Good deeds are eventually rewarded.
 
Aww. So the wine has uplifting words and alcohol. Good job.
 
Normally this wine would be out of my $5 limit, but it was ON SALE

This bottle retails for $9.99 at my Kroger, but was on sale for $4.99 this week. YAHHHS. (**NOTE: This is why you're seeing an early post here instead of Lust With a Laugh.)

So needless to say, this wine better meet some high expectations. We got some fancy shit in the wine cooler today.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

This is a Moscato with a light yellow color. From the label, it says we can expect a bit of fizz, along with some peach and orange blossom. 

Considering tropical storm Cindy blew into town the night I'm drinking this, and the sky has been nothing but clouds and rain, I could use a little sunny fruit to make up for it.

The back of the bottle tells you to “BARE IT ALL.” The bottle puts this in all caps. This wine must be for nudists. 

The cork also says to bare it all. This  wine really wants you to get naked. They also have a FaceBook page. Hold up. What are they sharing on this page?

HA! They have the wine I am about to try in a box next to a dancing watermelon wearing sunglasses. Technically the watermelon is wearing glasses. No, the watermelon didn’t bare it all. 

No naked people either. There are lots of wine recipes and some crafty things. I think they confused FB with Pinterest. They need a Pinterest page. Also, while doing crafts with wine is super fun, I don’t think it’s conducive to following recipes and instructions.

And the comments all seem to be people bitching about not getting a rebate. 

Hold up. You can get rebates on wine?!?! Why did no one fill this cheap ass chick in on that shit?

Then some chick talking about trying to fit her wine charms on red solo cups. That chick is awesome and I want to be her friend.

Then there was this guy. 

I feel you, man. I feel you.
 
FIRST SNIFF
 
Strong aroma of fruit, but with enough tartness to be enjoyable. Not too sweet. At least it doesn’t smell like it. I’ve been fooled before.
 
THE POUR
 
While it’s not a champagne-style bubble fest, there are some bubbles in this wine. They line the edge of the glass when you swirl it around.
 

FIRST SIP
 
This is more than “light fizz”. While it doesn’t look like sparkling wine, it does almost taste like it. It has bubbles against my tongue and gives that same delightful bite nipping at my tastebuds.
 
It is a very sweet wine, BUT it tastes like a sweetness that comes from more natural sugars than some of the awful wines I’ve tried.
 
TBH, this doesn’t taste like booze. This almost tastes like that sparkling grape juice you got as a kid so you could toast with the grownups at fancy events. I loved that stuff. I was known to take down multiple bottles when my cousins didn’t like it.
 
HUBBY TEST
 
In case you’re new here, my hubby is now required to taste wines with me. He is my full-sugar soda/dark beer loving guy. Basically he likes all the things I don't.

​I handed the glass to him and didn’t tell him anything about what I thought because I was pretty sure he’d like this one, but I didn’t want him to be influenced by my thoughts.
 
He gave me the usual shit about how I “Use him” to further my blog. I gave him the usual command to shut up and just try it.
 
I was so proud when he sniffed the glass like a real wine reviewer.
 
Then he drank it, and wrinkled his brow for a few before declaring it tasted like slightly flat champagne. I went to take the glass away and he let me know (as he took another sip) that’s not a bad thing at all.
 
He took one more sip before I went back inside.
 
This one gets the sweet drinker hubby’s seal of approval, y’all!

FINAL VERDICT
 
This one lived up to my expectations. It’s light and fruity, without tasting like it was drowned in corn syrup to make it sweet.
 
The fizzy aspect makes it a blend between wine and champagne that works well, and would be a hell of a mixer for some homemade sangria or other mixed drinks.
 
I can see why they have recipes on their FB. But I still think they need to move that ish to Pinterest where it belongs.
 
If this is still on sale, I’m grabbing a few more for the wine fridge. Because this one probably won’t last the night.

~Roxy

I'm always trying out new schedules, new tricks to keep myself motivated, and new coffees to give me the energy to do all of the above. When I end up going back to something over and over again, I know I've found a good thing.

That "thing" for me right now is called the "Miracle Morning".  

I first heard about the Miracle Morning on a bullet journal facebook group. 

The Miracle Morning (Book cover to the left) was created by Hal Elrod, who has a story so incredible it borders on the unbelievable side of fiction. 
​
There are many groups and articles around the internet about this technique, but I highly recommend the book itself, because I found it incredibly motivating. 

But if you're looking to get started, the main idea behind this technique is taking time first thing in the morning for self improvement. Taking around an hour to devote at least ten minutes to each of the following.

It uses the technique called the "S.A.V.E.R.S.".

S - Silence = This is time for meditation, prayer, or just sitting quietly with your thoughts.
A - Affirmations = Yes. Talking to yourself into being the best version of you. (I have a pinterest board if you're looking for ideas.)
V - Visualization = This can be with vision boards, imagining yourself where you want to be, and mentally putting yourself there.
E - Exercise = Yeah. I know. This one is my least favorite. 
R - Reading = This is the easiest one to do. ;)
S - Scribing = AKA Writing. Journaling, planning, writing fiction, anything. As long as you put words to paper or screen.

There are various Miracle Morning books Hal has put out. Versions for marketers, parents, and writers. I've read a few. And it's a great read when I realize I've fallen off the wagon. 

With a crazy schedule this past week, I needed to get back on it. 

I even snuck a re-release back out there!

​So if you need something to read for your "R" in your S.A.V.E.R.S. check out Love Shack.

​It's out now at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, KOBO, and iBooks. 

Do you have any productivity techniques you use?

I'm always up for something new to try.

​~Roxy

It's happening! The first of my Samhain Publishing books is finally re-formatted and ready to enter the world again. My mild obsession with the Tiny House movement lead me to write this book. The forced proximity trope is one of my favorites, and how much more closely forced together can one be than in a tiny house?!?

I had to write it. And since it is one of my favorites, and since it was the most recently released, I wanted to get it back out there as soon as I could. 

Love Shack is up for pre-order now, and will be re-releasing June 6th. 

Brandon and Felicity stole my heart and when they finally give in to the attraction between them...well, let's just say, "If the tiny house is rockin', don't come a-knockin'."

Get it first and Pre-Order on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, KOBO, and iBooks.



Enjoy this excerpt from Love Shack: Tiny Houses, Big Hearts.

For someone so tiny, her hands were extremely warm. Brandon could still feel the imprint of her palm on his shoulder.

It was a good thing sports were on. Crazy shack lady, or not, she was adorable in her little braids and pajama pants.

Brandon wasn’t a lonely man by any means. He preferred to have his space, even when he was in a relationship. He chuckled to himself when he realized it was a good thing he’d broken it off with Rebecca months earlier. Explaining this situation to a girlfriend would not have gone over well.

“What’s so funny?”

Felicity’s voice was a bit higher pitched than normal. She was a nutjob for living here, but she was still a woman, and he was probably doing something to offend her. He seemed to have a knack for it whenever he got close enough to the opposite sex.

“I was just thinking that it was a good thing I’m not dating anyone.” Realizing how that sounded, Brandon coughed. “I mean…I’m sleeping in your bed. I mean…we’re pretty close to each other in here.”

That didn’t sound any better.

Luckily, she wasn’t offended. “Oh. That’s good.”

“That I’m not in a relationship?”

Her eyes widened. “I’m not coming onto you. I swear. I was just nervous that you’d found…” If possible, her eyelids stretched even wider and he could see the whites of her eyes glowing at him in the dim light.

“What did you think I found, Felicity?”

This whole day had been awkward as hell for him, and he’d felt like he was running around in the wrong direction of sanity since he’d gotten here. For the first time since he’d met this woman, it seemed like he might have an advantage. He hoped it was embarrassing, because he’d forgotten his night shirts, and unless he wanted to wear a polo to bed, he was showing her his nipples every night.

“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” She picked up her e-reader and pretended to read, while she looked at him sideways over the purple leather cover.

“So if I were to reach over this way…” Brandon just stuck his hand out to the left to see what kind of reaction he got.
He got a very interesting one.

“You did find my stuff. Look. I’m not embarrassed. It’s very healthy to have a sexual appetite, and we should all have the freedom in our own house…”

Brandon’s smile tipped her off that he had been fishing and she pressed her lips together to keep any more words from coming out.
His mind conjured all kinds of crazy things she could have hidden. “I never said I found anything, but I am sure going to look now.”

He turned his body and began to feel along the floor, but he didn’t get to even reach past the little makeshift end table when he was rocked onto his back and mounted like a horse. Occupied with his treasure hunt, Brandon was caught off guard when she lunged for him. He’d fallen on his back, but he wasn’t sure why he let her hold his hands over his head while she sat on his stomach. He was too stunned to move once she got him there.

Her breasts grazed his chest, her core pressed against his flexing abs, and she was panting lightly just inches from his own lips.

“This is awkward,” she said.

Brandon nodded, but he had to admit to himself—it sure didn’t feel awkward to his body. His skin began to heat beneath her touch, and his heart pounded enough blood south of the border to keep him rendered speechless.


Want to see how they got here? You'll have to wait until June 6th to find out. Don't forget to pre-order your copy!

~Roxy