Away for the Weekend

Have fun. I know I will...

Important News!!

Caesar Romano Is Manscaped!

WHO KNEW???

All in favor of Squee-ing--please do so here.

If you have poopie things to say, please do so not here, because I LOVE THIS COVER.

Thank you...Samhain.

You know you've got a dirty mind when:

ONE, from Cake Wrecks

I thought this was Number One Peter and not Peter's Happy First Birthday.

TWO, from Katiebabs

And, yes, it took me a second to see the candy and not the items listed below.

THREE, from photos I pro'lly shouldn't use

Just adding more fuel to the Lisabea is nuts fire. Good times. Are you guys ready for me to get my mind back to Russell Crowe? I bet you are.

Soon, my precious, soon.

Anyway, if you have a moment to spare, please show me your dirty mind pictures. I need to know I'm not alone--cookies accepted (and swiped if deemed worthy).

Writing, laundry, packing BigGirl and having family dinner at the Thai place. That's the plan, man.

LB

Sam's Blog

Samantha Kane has a lovely post this morning on love. She asks, What is love in your house?

And I can't answer that right now because I'm seething over some small things going on in my own home. Just little things. Chores. Teens. Dogs. Laundry. People sleeping until 11:30 and then asking me to make their breakfast when plainly I'm writing and therefore make your own breakfast cuz you're about to draw back a nub, sweetheart.

If you know what I'm saying.

But do check it out at Kiss and Tell Girls. It's very sweet. I want to be an honorary Kiss and Tell Girl.

I'm sliding into this book, things are starting to happen, and I'm in the work zone.

I'll be back soon.

Gay Boys with Issues Strategic Shoe Plan

Last night, as I was trying to figure out what the HELL happens next in my book, I got sidetracked by this vid.

And suddenly, a burning new distraction issue presented itself.

Shoes.

I need new shoes for the upcoming NYC Gay Boys With Issues Two Day Romp Through the Village. Should I go Eskimo to honor my new Eskimo Horde pals?

Or should I perhaps carefully construct a detailed shoe plan for the many stalking events?

I know what you're thinking, you're thinking I should be working on my book.

I mean, this shoe pondering is really draining my internet allowance this morning.

In a perfect world, I'd have my very own Stacy and Clinton to hook me up with a $5000 Visa Card and a set of Rules for shopping. Sob. But that's not the case.

I also need TPig's lovely Jason to silk screen a shirt for my nfgBF that says Ich Liebe Lisabea.

My Plan To Date

DAY WEAR: Issac What's His Name Driving Mocs from Target. Yeah Yeah they're plastic and they're man-ish, but for walking in NY I think I can get by with these.

Mommy's Man Shoe by Target.

AFTERNOON TEA WITH STARZ OF GAY DAY TIME: LB goes no where without a pair of Macy clearance Steve Madden flats ($18 bucks or so last time I bought some...granted that was a while ago.)

Too much shoe for LB?

EVENING SPENT USING QUESTIONABLE JUDGEMENT: I think a pair of red strappy shoes are just the thing for sitting down on my writer-ass while taking notes. I promise to deck myself in fashionable threads, take photos of all nfgBF sightings and activities, and drink a few Orgasms.

Then I'll blog. NO JUST KIDDING. That's cardinal rule number one, isn't it? Friends don't let friends blog drunk.

I may need to lose weight in my feet for these.

More later. Time to get back to Romano and Albright: Book II before I lose another day.

lb

What I'm Reading

You so think I'm kidding.

No. I won't review it. But...er...just between you and I, it's a little dry. You can buy it here. I bought it for 9 bucks at Borders. Yay clearance!

And yes, I'm writing new material this week. Still not ready to revise In and Out. It'll happen. If my editor is reading this, pretend I'm working on it right now.

**NEWS FLASH**

Did I announce that Josh Lanyon and I are combining our forces for good? Or is it evil? We're planning a Halloween antho with a smart title: Double Feature. Think drive-in movie themed m/m comedy. That's all I know for now.

I am so nervous.

Off to see littlegirl play in her first Varsity Hockey game! I'm also nervous about that. Maybe I should cut back on coffee.

Nah.

Oldie McOld Old

BigGirl is twenty. Do you understand what that means, blog friends? It means her friends look like this:

Just an example and not actual twenty year old in my house

oh and thank you Matthew Melmon-I feel gross

They lounge around my living room (shirts on, obvi) and I...cannot even look at these youngsters without thinking about how I used to make them peanutbutter sandwiches and carpooled them to swim practice and taught their Sunday school class. So. It's official. I'm no cougar. I'm a mom--I have zero interest in these twinkie boys that fill the yaoi sites. Ick. (Unless it's Deniz--who is actually in his LATE twenties) I mean, young men breeze through the house and say things like Hey, Mrs. Lisabea, check out my new batman t-shirt. (Young man displays t-shirt and grins while I grind my teeth and think--seriously kid, go away) and Mrs. Lisabea watch me do a cannonball into the pool (and I think--do you want some chips and salsa? I do!).

So I like 'em older. Sue me.

See. I will happily lust after THIS man because he's in his thirties.

New Secret Gay Boy Friend

and blissfully of appropriate age range for lustful thoughts.

Any who.

Happy Birthday to my BigGirl--who leaves in one week for six months in Costa Rica. My daughter is in her twenties. Oh my effing GOD I was a child bride. I. Was.

And in two weeks I leave for So Cal to party on as a honorary So Cal Blogger. I think I'm doing a live stint with a sekkrit friend on one of the Yahoo Groups while I'm there. At least, that was the plan. I should check that.

You should stop by and wave hello to us as we blog LIVE and ...uh...not in person in California on Feb 9th. It'll be weird, but what else is new?

Gays of Our Lives-International Event

March 26-28

Lost Weekend In NYC? Here's your chance! (info lifted from website)

Where else are you going to find the stars of your favorite gay storylines in one place? Nowhere else but here!

For one weekend only, March 26-28th 2010, the stars of your favorite gay storylines converge on the Big Apple for a fan event like no other.

Meet your stars. Party with them. All under the amazing back drop of New York City.

But that’s just half of it!

All the money raised during this event will go to benefit two great charities, The Trevor Project and AIDS Hilfe Köln.

If you’re a fan of Christian and Oliver, Deniz and Roman, Dante’s Cove, Queer as Folk, One Life to Live, Verbotene Liebe, Alles Was Zählt, GREEK, and Gute Zeiten, Schlechte Zeiten, then you’ve absolutely got to join us!


By Cracky! A fan event in NYC in March! Does this not say LB Gregg all over it? Yes. It do. And I (and my fabulous loooooong time pal, Hank--25 years dude, what is UP with that?) will attend. Oh. I know what you're thinking:

obsession

But what you should be thinking is:

there's nothing wrong with that

Igor's shirt, translated, says I love Lisabea!

(Dennis concurs)

Actually, this thing is going to be an epic good time. I'll be in the bar, of course, but that doesn't alter the fact that I'll be there with my laptop, my notes, my camera, my new Romano and Albright book and my IDEA FACTORY. Also my new heels and that fabtabulousa new dress with the satin bow under my heaving bosom. Merow. I'm picking up momentum on book II and I think, I do, that there's a wee bit of German fan love rearing it's fashionably attractive head in my latest work. Yup.

Anywho--if you're stalking attending, drop me a line. I'll be...uhm...in the bar.

::cough::

PS the venue is changing -- soon to be in the Village. Nuff said. Thanks Eskimo (w)hor(d)es!!

Tidbit

I'm back!

Actually, I left Monday at 9 and returned at 1:30 am today. What I am is pooped.

Still--no rest for the wicked. Mom/wife/writer life continues--as does my new fangirl passion. Merow. So glad to have ruined Kris. Now that makes me happy.

NEWS: Catch Me If You Can has a cover but I don't have it. Uhm. I think it's official. Waiting for final word. Until that time...here's Roman Wild (Dennis Grabosch), my super cute German.

Just pretend he's Caesar Romano, my super cute Italian/American.

Not Caesar but this fine young man

will do in a pinch!

OOoh. Glitter sparkly. Works for me.

In the meantime, I thought I'd post a tiny snippet of the new book! YAYAYYAAY! It's coming March 16th and it's the first in my new Romano and Albright series. I'm hard at work plotting and planning and writing book two. I swear.

Without further blather, here's an excerpt:

By the time we finagled our way into Shep’s building and up to the fifteenth floor, I was jiggling with nerves. Dan strode confidently down the hall. He probably did this all the time—wheedled himself into places he shouldn’t. Peeping and lurking. But I was having second thoughts. Third thoughts. “I don’t think that this is at all a good idea.”

“What’s the matter with you? We’re here legitimately. We’re stopping by to help him find out who his new boyfriend is.”

“That’s not funny. He’s going to kill me for even telling you.” Perspiring, I waited as Dan knocked. A half second ticked by, and I turned to leave. “He’s not home. Let’s go.”

Dan knocked again, this time with more force.

I found the keys to the truck. “I’m telling you, he’s in Connecticut visiting his mother.”

Dan glanced at my hand for a beat longer than necessary. I could almost see an idea formulating in his big hairy head. Pity I couldn’t read his mind fast enough, because he snatched those keys from my hand before I could hide them behind my back. “Hey. Do you think his cousin has a spare key? I bet she does.”

“Give those back.”

He quickly matched keys to locks, ignoring my protests. He easily blocked me from my wild grabbing.

I punched his shoulder hard. “What the hell are you doing? We can’t go in there. That’s against the law. You’re a cop. You can’t do this. I…I don’t break the law.” Protesting got me nowhere. I checked the hallway. It was quiet and empty. I could take him down with a surprise tackle. It worked on my brother and he was almost as tall.

“You do too. You pulled an illegal u-turn. You parked in a bus stop. You closed the shop when it should have been open. I bet you cheat on your taxes.”

I stopped. “I do not.”

But he was already in the apartment. He grabbed my sleeve and hauled me in after him, then gently shut the door. The locks clicked. “Well, I knew that would shut you up.”

“Oh man. This is so wrong.”

“Quit being a crybaby. Look. Do you or do you not want to keep your job?” He stopped in what looked like a large foyer and whistled loudly. “Wow. This is a nice place.”

My eyes bulged. It was nice. A foyer. It was vast—open and bright. What the apartment lacked in view it made up for in sheer square footage.

I forgot everything else. I huffed, and Dan gave me a stern look. “It’s two apartments made into one. Don’t get all excited.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

I had to check this out, illegal or not. I was in the door and now I was brimming with…an unflattering resentment. It looked like Pottery Barn had thrown up the contents of an entire catalogue in Shep’s gargantuan home. Everything was picture-perfect and color-coordinated and made overseas.

“Track lighting,” Dan scoffed. “That there is what we call a dead giveaway. No straight man lives like this. I don’t care what you say.”

“Did I say anything? He didn’t live like this at Manhattanville.”

The living room was bigger than my entire first apartment. I ran my hand the smooth length of a reproduction apothecary cabinet. Above that homogenized knockoff, a state-of-the-art flat-screen TV was centered with precision. A friendly grouping of leather club chairs sat in front of a white brick fireplace. On it, a wooden sailboat, three feet tall, sailed the mantle toward a humidor filled with cigars. You just knew they were Cuban.

I felt mean.

Dan disappeared into the kitchen. The sound of doors opening and closing followed him. He popped out of the doorway like a jack-in-the-box. “No Circus of Despair.”

“Color me surprised.”

He shook his head yet again. “Don’t be a bitch, Caesar.”

I swallowed. He was right. “Let’s just hurry, okay? I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

He proceeded to systematically search every nook and cranny in the thousands-of-square-feet apartment. I went to explore the rest of the space, curbing my bitterness. It was hard to do, as all I wanted was a humble apartment of my own. Anywhere. I’d take Staten Island, for crying out loud. And this? This plush bachelor pad looked ready for a spread in Architectural Digest—and it was utterly impersonal. There wasn’t a single photo on the wall that hadn’t been matted and framed in some sweatshop in China. On the dining-room table sat a gigantic glass bowl of wooden limes. Limes, for God’s sake.

I needed to get a grip. I stomped inelegantly down a long hallway cheerfully lit with natural light, taking it all in, dollar signs rolling in my head. Where had he gotten this kind of cash? Wheaties apparently paid Shep pretty damn well. The walls were papered in fucking linen.

“Hey. Take a look at this.”

Dan was in the second bedroom, a guestroom as beautiful as the rest of the place. A four-poster king-sized bed took up most of the room.

“What?” I grouched.

The front door rattled and, horrified, I grabbed Dan by the jacket. “I knew this would happen.”

I dragged him toward the closet, but it was overflowing with neatly hung clothing and stacks of shoeboxes. I gaped in shock. “Ferragamo?”

Dan nodded toward the armoire. I shook my head.

We both stared at the bed.

There was a lot of clearance, given the thing had stairs. I lifted the bed skirt. “Slide under.”

The front door opened to the sound of Shep’s charming, lackadaisical voice as we scurried under the bed like the fearful intruders we were. I flipped the bed skirt down. There was barely three inches of space to see. Dan lay flat to better watch the hall, although what we would do if we were discovered wasn’t clear to me. I just closed my eyes and concentrated on not hyperventilating.

“Calm down, Romano.”

I peeked and Dan wasn’t paying attention to the crack of daylight. He watched me. I swear he was laughing. I nodded stiffly. I’d have to accept that I was a source of entertainment for the demented detective.

Shep’s voice got weaker momentarily—perhaps he’d gone into the bathroom or the kitchen, and another voice, this one female, filled the apartment.

“That’s Estelle. His agent,” I whispered.

She was loud. “I don’t care. You need to do as you’re told or this thing is going to fall through and this is a huge opportunity. You signed a contract, Mac.”

“I know. I don’t think anyone knows.”

“Everyone knows. You could have warned me last night. I had to listen to him rant for half an hour. That bastard will sue us both. Don’t fuck this up.”

They were in the living room. The sound of feet on the wood flooring came nearer. Unless Estelle wore fancy man shoes, that had to be Shep. He went into the room next to us. A door opened. He was changing maybe.

“I’ll deal with it. Caesar isn’t going to tell anyone. He hasn’t yet. And his family doesn’t care. No one else knows. I was circumspect. It was just a stupid thing I did in college. It was years ago. It didn’t mean anything.”

I nearly popped out from under the bed. Dan grabbed hold of my wrist. “Be still.”

Shep went on, “He was pretty insistent. I slept with him a few times, that’s it.”

I opened my mouth, and Dan’s hand slapped down to shut it. “Shh.” I nodded and his hand slowly slid away, his fingertips trailing my chin. Was he petting me?

The click of Estelle’s heels faded, as did Shep’s plodding, well-clad feet.

She snapped, “Who knew back then, Mac?”

“No one. No one except my cousin, Poppy. That’s it. And Ce’s family. That’s all.”

“No one since then, right? I need you to think about your answer because I’d rather be prepared to handle some kind of PR situation than get blindsided. A good offense is the best defense. I want full disclosure. You understand?”

“I…” Shep’s voice wavered, and my breath froze as hope reared itself. Would he do it? Could he? And then that spineless dick lied again. “No one. I’m not…I’m not gay, Estelle.”

Dan snorted quietly next to me. “She’s an idiot if she buys that.”

“As long as we’re clear,” Estelle said and then a door shut. Locks spun.

I lay under the bed, in the sweating darkness, royally pissed. Dan faced me, but his eyes were rolled up—he was listening while I was fuming and embarrassed.

“I think they’re both gone.”

I tried to scurry out from under the bed skirt. Dan grabbed my belt. “Wait. He may still be here.”

I nodded and eased back onto the floor. Dan’s eyes darkened, if that was possible. His frown line had reappeared. His voice turned serious. “How long were you two together?”

“Three years.”

“Man. You sure know how to pick ’em. What a dickhead.”

“It was just a stupid thing I did in college.” My joke was undermined by the depth of Shep’s betrayal. You’d think I’d have grown immune by now. At this point every one of my secrets had been laid bare to the good detective. There was nothing left to hide—which was actually kind of liberating.

We lay still, listening to the hall clock. I wanted to go home and forget this entire day. No. That was a lie. What I really wanted to do was take a hatchet to Shep’s apartment and bust that mother up. Maybe Dan would turn a blind eye?

It was close under the bed. Naturally, there wasn’t a speck of dust, only gleaming floor. It smelled of lemon and Dan’s leather jacket. I hadn’t noticed before, but his cologne was spicy—like cardamom. Sultry and tangy. His beard was filling in, a true five o’clock shadow that framed full and soft lips—the top one less plump than the bottom. A tiny scar marred the right side.

Dan stared intently back at me. He seemed as curiously interested in my mouth as I was his. Before I could catch myself, I licked my lips. His mouth lifted into a slow, hot, sexy smile. I bit my lip, waiting to see where we were going. Tension crackled between us.

He moved closer, taking up most of the space. It grew even warmer under the bed. “You know what I think? I think you’re a smart guy and you dumped him for being a pussy. He’s still pissed.”

“Probably you’re right.”

Dan’s mouth was very nice. Masculine and broad. Why hadn’t I noticed that before? I had no idea what Dan’s story was, if he was into guys or bi or yet another straight guy willing to fool around, but suddenly, I didn’t care. I was pissed. Why that turned me on, I couldn’t fathom. Dan didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move away from me. Quite the contrary. He challenged me with his nearness.

I moved and his gaze went from my mouth to my eyes. Heat curled in my groin. Dan’s eyes filled with interest, and something else. Amusement.

“Don’t say a word,” I grumbled.

“Who me?” The grinning bastard. “I won’t say a thing.”

I inched forward, scooting close enough to seal myself against him from groin to chest, letting our bodies align. Waiting to see what he’d do. His breath caressed my skin, and the moment drew out long. The clock ticked in the hall. His smug smile deepened, charming me despite how infuriatingly cocky he was. Strong thighs pressed into mine, and he waggled his brows like a fool. But he was hardening against my crotch and…that was a surprise. He found me more than amusing—he was attracted to me. Aroused by me. Or he was into the getting-caught vibe. Maybe a bit of both.

His dick nestled into mine, and his neck flushed a deep, telling red. With the space between us gone, in the sweltering darkness, I found a reason to lay my mouth on his, gently, finding those lips deliciously moist and minty. I licked them. His taste was sweet, maybe a hint of nicotine and coffee, but mostly he tasted of that gum he liked to share.

Dan laughed against my mouth. “You going to do something interesting, Romano? Or just nibble on me?” He thought he was so funny.

“If you’d shut up for half a second, I’ll show you.” I gripped him by the belt with one hand, and kissed him, my mouth sliding over his, my fingertips digging right into his pants. I tickled the head of his cock. Why not? I knew what I liked. I figured he liked it too, because he groaned in surprise. His lips parted, and his hips snuggled back. The big lug. I tongued him wantonly, feeling him give, his mouth opening wide to welcome me. A tingle ripped down my spine at this unexpected pleasure. He was delicious. Sliding my hips against his, all thought of Shep and Justin Timberlake and missing clowns disappeared as I did my very best to wipe that fucking grin off Detective Dan Green’s face.

Out of Town

I'll be in Virginia this week due to some sad, but not unexpected news. Until I return, please don't hesitate to misbehave.

L

WIP Song

Did I post this already? I feel that I have, but I can't find it. Do you like? This is a favorite on our car rides. Fiesty and fun. Thicke looks a little like the love child of Orlando Bloom & Jebus, and he sounds tres Justin Timberlake, but I love it love it love it.

"You can keep your toys in the drawer tonight..."

So that's my toe tapper today while I avoid In and Out (as per instructions by editor and by friends) and I work on this new story about unrequited love and the power of forgiveness. I think that's what it's about....


Also Roman Wild and I are watching fan videos off and on and I have zero shame in admitting that I've created my own YouTube channel. Gee. I wonder what's on it?

I never realized that YouTube had a community with followers and friends and subscriptions, I only used YouTube to scrounge for music videos and to watch the occasional viral vid, so I'm intrigued and scoping the scene. Not to mention I'm wading through the schmaltz. Woof there's plenty of it to wade through.

Happy Saturday! G comes home from Korea, and then...he immediately dashes off for some other location. I scheduled a date night through his secretary. I. Am. Not. Kidding.

~lb

Preditors and Editors

You all should check out the fabulous books nominated this year. It's an honor to be included on the list. Actually, I may have squealed a tiny zomg!

To vote for your favorites--click on my book cover this link.

Hope you are all having a wonderful Wednesday.

Wednesday? That doesn't seem right. I may have lost a day somewhere. I can't imagine how.

Alles Was Zahlt Day Five

I formally retract my nasty 'shmoopy eye" comment from yesterday as Deniz (via the writers of AWZ) redeemed himself in the most yummy way possible. By speaking from the heart (and then having lots of sex with Roman Wild*).

::swoon::

::swoons again::

::still fucking swooning here people::

And no, I didn't watch, er, 500 clips or so. Not. Me.**

You know, secretly I've always held myself above all this fan girl type behavior (except of course for RC, Brandon Boyd, and, uhm, Adrien English. Plus Nate Hawkins) but now I sort of understand this...passionate livejournal type of squealing and tossing of panties and WRITING IN CAP LOCKS TO EXPRESS MYSELF. I have friends, close friends, who follow all kinds of television shows and fandom stuff (not that there's anything wrong with it).

Do not look at me that way. I see you.

I hope to GOD I've burnt myself out. Because, I mean...really...it's time for the illustrious LB Gregg to get a freakin' grip and do some actual work now that the kids are back to hockey practice and homework and SAT prep and my love-- Mr. Darcy/G-- is far away on another continent (I miss you). MOS IV isn't getting its much needed, painful, revision. And I? I need to stop fucking around, man up, and fix it.

Good bye new favorite gay BF.

It's been so very good.***

What in the hell has brought me to this five day gluttony? I mean besides the fact that Alles Was Zahlt is exceptionally delightful and Dennis Grabosch is my nfgBF?

In all honesty? The revisions as per my critique are poopie-caca-doodie stinky and I haven't quite reached that place where I can tackle the hard stuff. Hence the five day black out/detour with YouTube and mom/wife/skiing.

::lb stares woefully at slightly overreaching goals for the year::

But tackle them I must. I'll feel so much better when I start. Right? I'll feel like a writer again and not...uhm...a very lazy girl in lurve.

Plz send Golden Oreos.

See you guys soon. Behave yourselves. And to Emilie, thank you so much. I mean that most sincerely. I've had a ball and I feel refreshed, and most of all, I've managed to fill the creative well again. That's no small thing.

=)

While I'm away, I'd like to know what you all think of this song. I'm digging it, although I swear I thought it was Bjork at first listen.

*new favorite gay boy friend

**I haven't waded through the fan vids yet...well...not all of them.

***new episode will be posted later tonight!!

Alles Was Zahlt

Or how I lost three four days to YouTube.

Don't even bother noticing that vacuous youngster with the shmoopy eyes and the horrible hair. Boo. Deniz est ...uh...(German word for bastard) and a piece of Scheiße. Most of the time. Sometimes he takes his clothes off and gets down and dirty with....

Roman Wild ::bats lashes:: who seems to have cracked the surf board with the back of his head (which would explain some of his choices IMHO). Meet my new favorite gay boyfriend and ice skating drama queen from the most gloriously addictive soap ever (three full days NOT writing but watching eskimo kiss project videos non-fricken' stop--only to take the cook, ski, clean break upon rare occasion...er...plus I'm watching today. Uhm. Not that I should. But I can't. seem. to. stop.) Alles Was Zahlt. Delicious.

I love this show. Although I've cheated and watched Eskimo Kiss Project's salute to these characters (which is more videos than I care to reveal having watched)--and between the soap-y angst and the wonderful sense of humor and the extreme smexy smexiness--not to mention the angry turk, the gatorade that makes you hallucinate, the sports center pool where everyone seems to be having sex, the plots, the tears, the constant consumption of french fries, the fake deaths and possible suicides, the gay bashing, and the ice skating productions (yes. I said that)--it's FABULOUS, funny, ridiculous and fresh.

Plus I now want to get a puppy and name him Ingo.

And Emilie is a poop for posting the link in our wee yahoo group. Thank God G/Mr. Darcy is in Asia and hasn't seen this new...er...obsessive side to my otherwise perfect personality.

What?

In other news.... Samhain has a wee little page posted for my upcoming book, Catch Me If You Can. (tiny squee)

OK great big squee.

LB

P.S.

Do you think it's weird that I want to learn German? No? ME EITHER!!!