Jess Hunter's Blog

Guest Post on SSLY Blog on August 20, 2013 The Continuing Saga of Jess Hunter’s Love LifeI went with a good friend of mine to see the new Matt Damon movie, Elysium. I enjoyed it, but I am a movie person. Chances are, if someone doesn’t torture a little baby animal on camera, I am going to find something to love about the film. My friend, however, had a more discerning opinion. He told me that the story relied too much upon cliché. It was a fair judgment. There were, indeed, clichés by the dozen bursting forth with futuristic spectacle on the screen the whole two-hour duration. But, I had to agree with him, primarily because I hadn’t invested too much thought into the opposing idea, that it was to the film’s detriment.That stayed with me for a few days. I thought about it, the idea of the cliché. I searched and searched in my head for my own understanding and analysis of it. I delved into a study of the idea of tropes and clichés as literary devices. Shakespeare began and perpetuated so many of these expressions that he himself found their belabored persistence amusing. How many times have you heard someone say “to be or not to be,” “neither a lender nor a borrower be,” or “sweets for the sweet?” Do they still mean what William intended them to mean? Do many people today even understand them? Are they simply words we’ve heard before repeated to make us feel familiar, comfortable and excited about the material?My mind eventually slowed to a halt after a few days of turning the idea round and round in my thoughts. It appeared as though my final conclusion on the concept of the trope or cliche is that originality is king and that if something has been used to the point of causing the audience to groan, then perhaps it should be retired. For instance, how many times are we going to watch the guy get the girl? The hero save the day? The butler be the killer? All of these stories were new at some point in the past, right? The genius of creating art, so I thought at the time, was inventing and inspiring new stories that could be overused to the point of cliche by a yet-to-be-initiated generation.And then it happened…I had recently met a wonderful girl online and although we bounced over a rough patch at the start, we settled into being quite a happy pair. (see “I hope you’re happy” spoiler alert: things turned out perfectly) I had stolen her away from her family and friends after a Vegan potluck, (at which I giggled to myself how many people casually mentioned their doctors/nutritionists telling them to eat meat) and drove her, in the middle of the night, to Galveston. We snuck into a private beach, unfolded an old blanket and sat together under the stars, breathing the ocean breeze and enjoying the feeling of falling in love. Now this is already cliché, but you wouldn’t believe what happened next. As I held her there in my arms, thankful for the opportunity to feel such delicious little sensations in my heart, a damned shooting star flung itself across the sky. It lasted only a moment, but the brilliant flash of green was unmistakable. I had two reactions immediately. On one hand, my eyes literally rolled as if to say, “Holy crap, Universe. Did you REALLY just show me a shooting star while I held this girl on the beach at night?” and on the other, my heart began to pound in a furiously fervent pattern.It was magical.And as much as I hate to admit it, that old clichéd trope swept me off my feet and into a moment that I will never forget.I really do understand clichés now. These expressions only seem overused because of the limited words we have to convey the true wonder. It is the feeling. It is an incredible, eternal, unimaginable feeling. That is what all of the movies and books and shows and video games are trying to make us feel with these phrases and clichés. They are designed to make us feel these incredible feelings all over again.I wished on that shooting star that night, but you couldn’t pay me enough to tell you what I wished for. I can tell you this, sometimes the guy gets the girl.Thanks for readingJesshttps://www.facebook.com/ForAHero/infohttp://aheroonceagain.blogspot.com/?zx=1bb67b23928f373a Blurb:
Heroes are not born, they are made – they are made by defeating enemies, by overcoming impossible challenges and by walking through fire. David is such a hero. He has devoted his life to saving the hopeless, yet he can’t accept the fact that he is worthy to be loved.
David lost his family and he blames himself, so he fights Fire to repay a debt he never really owed. Day after day he does his job and goes home alone to face a future of solitude and regret – until Jenna comes into his life.
Jenna sees a hero when she looks at David. She sees a man who is bigger than life and deserves to be loved. So, Jenna sets out to prove to him that he is perfect just the way he is. And starts by buying a date with him – to the tune of $15000.
Before David knows it, his life is full of excitement, passion and more love than he can handle. But will he be able to keep it or will the demons from his past snatch happiness from his grasp?** Warning: Contains Explicit Scenes and Content, Intended for 18+ AudienceDelve into the enigma that is Jess Hunter as he captures the purity and innocence of the hero dynamic and intertwines it with romance and love that will take your breath awayBuy Links:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble

Today at Laci's Place, I have JESS HUNTER – Author of FOR A HERO who apparently has met the girl of his dreams! Comment below for a chance of any one of Sable & Jess Hunter's ebooks - your choice.
This is an open letter to the girl who is his inspiration……..

"I hope you're happy."

You’re probably not going to read this, but I need to get it out. You’ve done something for me that I haven’t had in a long time. I feel inspired. You’ve made a manly, stoic, serious man like me feel feelings, and now I sit at a computer letting emotion-filled words spill out of my heart.
I met you online a few weeks ago. You caught my eye and I didn’t know what to expect when I arranged our first meeting. Coldly, I even kind of saw nothing happening in the beginning. I certainly wasn’t expecting what happened when I saw you for the first time. You’ve made for yourself a home in my thoughts. I’ve expressed a concern to my closest friends about you and the little sickness you’ve given me. Guys who play the game and peek behind the curtain of social dynamics call this sickness “one-itis” and it is feared across the world. It’s the dreadful, deathly end of a bachelor, either from marriage or heartbreak. Either way, it’s not good.
I pulled my best friend aside and we had a chat. He is also, unfortunately, succumbing to a similar ailment. We keep trying to coach each other back into reason and ration and rhyme and right and rule but we both announce our awareness of our sad states and then knowingly sink back into them. What’s wrong with us?
He has a little crush. He, like me, plays the game and wants to experience as many relationships as he can. He found someone at a party and has since been exhibiting very un-manly like behavior towards her. He texts her a lot. He asks her friends about her feelings toward him. He even performed the unforgivable “white knight” on her. Hopefully she was too drunk to remember really well…
I gave him this advice. “Easy, Bro. Your perception of her will color your behavior and direct the relationship. You have to detach from her emotionally and escalate things physically. She is like a cat. Your disinterest and authority will bring her closer to you.”
He nods. He knows I’m right. But before we can part, he directs the advice back to me. He knows also that I am doing the same stupid bullshit that he is. I respond. “No, Dude. This one is different.”
“How so?”
“Shit. I don’t know.”
But I do know. I just didn’t want to sound like a sissy to my friend.
After he left, I don’t know what he said to her. But judging by the way his messages to me have been filled with little emoticons, I have to assume that he has not followed my advice. That is a problem, because lives are made best when built around systems of rationality, causation and responsibility. The most unforgivable action is unreasonable behavior and I have stopped many relationships very early to avoid someone who may act unreasonably around me.
My brother (adopted) once said something very wise to me that I fought externally but felt the depth of truth behind. He said, “Jess, when you find THAT girl, you will think differently. You won’t care about your reasons or your contingencies or your plans. You will look back and find that you are behaving just as unreasonably as she is, and then you’ll know.”
Dammit, Woman. Today, I behaved stupidly unreasonable. And it’s all your fault. I don’t know how you did it. It was somewhere in your smile, hidden behind your character, flowing from your heart, and shapelier than those million dollar legs. Even though I see it, I can’t say it. It is an unknowable, intangible thing in you.
Maybe it’s your goodness. You are a much better person than me, or Sable for that matter. You have principles and ethics and passions that most people only pretend to have. Maybe it’s your purity. You are secluded from the world by your goodness and your brilliance and the world hasn’t gotten to know you yet. Maybe it’s your mind, your wonderful brain that can see truths and yet, magically adhere to ethereal standards. Are you for real? I’m going to be red-hot if you are pretending.
Regardless, you pissed me off today. You did something that, had you been ANY OTHER WOMAN, would have made me immediately cut you out of my life to prevent the pain that you would cause me. But I couldn’t. When you gave me your reason, (as women are wont to do, rationalization and all that) despite all the red flags going off in my head, I believed you. I trusted you. I had faith in you. And now, I wait. Our deadline ticks away, and I am at the mercy of fate, or destiny, or you, or God or whomever is going to decide how this maelstrom ends.
You pissed me off today, and I didn’t care. You made me want to fight for you. I am so mad at you, but when you text me, my face lights up like Christmas.
I needed to get this off my chest. I needed to express this unfamiliar feeling I am having. Maybe this is lust, maybe it is infatuation, maybe it is respect, maybe it is fury, maybe it is early onset Alzheimer’s disease.
All I know for sure is that I am trusting you. I am going out on a limb for you. My heart is in your hands, and when that moment comes, if it happens how my little Disney-taught prince mind wants it to happen, it will all have been worth it.
But dammit, Woman.
Anyway, I do need to thank you. You’ve got my mind on romance. You are showing me feelings that I have been trying to write in books for a while now. I need this. I need to want to express emotion like this. I need to want to write about falling in love and how incredible and unreasonable and stupid it is.
Because of you, you little brat, I will be writing words from the heart this week. I hope you’re happy.

I’ll See you Saturday
Jess


Here’s an excerpt from FOR A HERO
And the buy link: Amazon

David’s hands held on to her as if he’d never let her go. He created an unbreakable bond between them. So perfect was his connection to her that their breaths escaped simultaneously.
They slept for a while, content to just be in each other’s arms.
Slowly, Jenna awoke, looking up and around. There she lay, in his fortress, where only his most trusted and loved ones enter. 
It was December 23rd. Even though Santa hadn’t left yet, this was the best present she could have asked for.  
“Jenna.”
“Yes?”
“This isn’t the most perfect time, but I am feeling it right now. If I don’t let it out and tell you, I am going to burst.” David sat up; the radical change in body position mirrored his tone in magnitude. 
Jenna rose to meet him in response. “What is it?”
“You have shown me that I don’t have to keep my walls up. You have shown me that I don’t need to keep searching for something else. If my mom and dad were alive, I am positive they would love you. They would be so proud of me if I brought you home.”
David’s voice caught a bit. Jenna’s eyes misted. “Thank you, David.”
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He looked at her with sincere, hooded, fervent eyes. He took her hands in his and held them tightly against his chest, like he needed them there to breathe. “I want to marry you.”
Jenna gasped. The air stopped coming in and she didn’t even realize it. This was it. It could be the happiest day of her life, or the day she walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to her. Either way, the dreaded choice, that hung over her head like a macabre guillotine, had finally reached her waiting neck. 
Jenna looked at him. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She loved him. With every piece of her heart, she loved him. They could work out the rest, right? She could talk to him about his job and his life; she could ensure that things would work out. She could be selfish just this once.
She opened her mouth, she was mostly sure that a strong ‘yes’ would come assertively out. However, David continued before she could say it.
“Say yes, and I will resign as the Fire Chief first thing. We can get a home together. We can start a farm in south Austin. We’ll have kids and raise corgi puppies together. It will be magical.”
Damn! He had to go and do it. He had to. Life can be a cruel bitch. The ‘yes’ came out, not as a word, but as a pathetic croak. Jenna shut her mouth, terrified of what to say. She couldn’t take him away from the city, away from his calling. Even if he hadn’t strolled into her life, and filled her heart with love and desire, she would still have understood how important and wonderful he was, just like the rest of Austin did. 
But did she have the strength to say no? Could she deny herself the one thing she wanted most in the whole world?
Her hesitation was more obvious than she hoped it would be. David could see her trepidation written all over her beautiful face. Fear and dismay clutched his heart, squeezing it like a vise, and with an other-worldly effort, he pushed the panic aside and showed her none of it. His voice was as placid as a frozen river. “Don’t answer.” He couldn’t bear to hear anything but yes, he wasn’t ready. Damn him for not preparing for it. “Take your time to think about it.”
David got out of bed. He tried not to pace. He just stood and looked into nothing. After a moment, he spoke again. “I want you to be sure. It’s a big choice, so please think carefully.”
The clock was ticking on his resolve. Weakness could rupture at any moment. He had to get away. He started to put his clothes on quickly. “If you say yes, I will take you to get the ring tomorrow. If not, we will decide what to do after.” He went to the door and opened it before she had a chance to say anything. “Make yourself at home here. Unfortunately, I have to go to the Fire Hall for some business. I lo-” he stopped himself, closing his eyes in pain, he said one simple word.  “Bye.”
He was gone. Jenna lay in bed, still ravished from their love-making, alone and terrified. What had she done? She curled up in a fetal position and wept. 

David had to get away. Had he stayed just a few moments longer, he would have embraced her and let this tsunami of emotion out that had been building for weeks. He decided to pour himself into his work for the evening. He must find whoever was behind this terrible game he was being forced to play. 
He rushed to the Hall. With all the tricks he knew, he focused on the task at hand. He put everything aside. Blaine’s call at his mother’s was concerned but not informative. His friend took the news that Hank had handed him the envelope with a salty distrust. Although David defended him to a fault, Blaine’s final words hit him hard.
“Watch out.”
David sat behind the desk, in complete darkness. The lights of the city sliced through the room, tearing into the slits of the window blinds. He watched out, indeed. He watched out for himself. He watched out for his mother and for Jenna. They were as safe as he could make them. Blaine said ‘watch out’ as if David wouldn’t think to do that. 
His heart pumped focus and presence into his mind. Would Jenna even want to be his to protect? Nobody knew where David’s loft was; they had never seen it or been in. Jenna was safe there, as long as she stayed. 
No, David. Don’t think about the proposal. Focus. Solve the riddle.
He watched out.
The thought lingered. He wondered who out there could be watching out for him.

Jenna closed her eyes. Then she opened them. No. He was still gone. This wasn’t a horrible dream. It was a depressing, horrifying reality.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she say yes? Oh yeah. Because he would be quitting his job and leaving the city in need, for her. Her mind reeled.
She fell down to the bed and buried her face in his firm, luxurious pillow. It offered next to no comfort to her. She began to cry. 
Jenna realized she needed to talk to someone, if only she knew of a person who would listen and help her. She grabbed her phone and filtered through the contacts. 
Not Maggie, she was in Dallas. Not Miranda, she wouldn’t understand. Not Ben, that’s a joke.
Then she found someone. The presence of her name in her phone number log was a refreshing reminder. David’s mom. She had given her comfort once before. She knew David better than anyone. 
Jenna’s sniffles raised a hopeful pitch. She dressed quickly, got on the bus, and made the call.

Answers didn’t come to him in the night, only more questions, more worries, more fears. Some of David’s resolve began to grow again; his solitude healed his spirit, he began to recuperate slowly. The tension in his back was incredible; his flexed lumbar muscles pushed the back of the chair to an unnatural angle. He made fists with his hands and squeezed. He tunneled his thoughts, he focused his mind. David detached and hardened himself. He was ready. He finally felt it. He was ready for whatever it was. Bring it on.
As if his thoughts summoned it, the phone started to ring.
“Hello?”
Blaine answered. “I figured you’d be up. You sound worried.”
“Have you found anything?”
“Yes, but your worry sounds heavier than just anticipation. What happened?”
Blaine’s perceptiveness never ceased to amaze him. “I don’t know if I am more nervous about what you discovered or Jenna. I proposed to her tonight, she didn’t have an answer right away, so I gave her some time to think about it.”
Blaine responded with his normal amount of supportive sarcasm.  “What? You just met her a week and a half ago. What do you think this is a Sable Hunter novel?”


THANKS FOR READING!!!!
JESS


Where to find Jess online:
GoodReads 
Facebook

Thanks for stopping by Jess, it was great to have you! Hope you come by again, and have fun Saturday ;)

*Any Contests mentioned have ended*

JESS’S WORLDForeword from Sable Hunter: Jess Hunter is my younger brother. We have a book FOR A HERO, a collaboration, which was released not too long ago. Jess is a renaissance man. He graduated from the University of Texas in 2011. He is eloquent and handsome. He is brilliant, but hard-headed. He is too popular with women for his own good. He loves pick-up trucks and names his – the current one is Leroy, Jr. He loves Superman. And video games. We have had thousands of discussions about romance novels and the construction of them. Jess finds inspiration in everything for his writing – - even video games. When I first received this blog in an email so I could forward it, I looked at the subject and shook my head. When I talked to him at 10 pm, he asked what I thought. I said it looked boring to me. BORING? WHY? I said because it’s about video games. I don’t like video games. READ IT! He demanded. JUST READ IT! I laughed at him, but I agreed. And I was wrong. He was right. He is onto something. I almost cried.Just listen. . . . .SPOILER ALERT!If you have not played the video game, “The Last Of Us,” AND intend to play it in the future AND want to NOT know how it ends, then DO NOT read the rest of this post.I don’t take very many days off. I work all the time. If I’m not writing, then I’m editing, or planning, or outlining, or at my other job which is a full day commitment half of each week. When I am not doing those things, I have to sneak in as many workouts and meals as I can. Occasionally, on my leftover time, I try to see my brother (best friend, actually) and his family, my sister (SABLE) and her hijinks or my good friends in Austin. And finally, when I am not doing that, I am sleeping. So the amount of time I get to do something strictly to entertain myself is very little. However, when I DO get that time, I really enjoy the art that is the video game.I tend not to hop on the bandwagons. I am not a huge fan of first person shooters or war simulators that are so popular now. I have my own criteria for what constitutes a great video game experience. As far as I’m concerned, a movie is a book with the imagination done for you. In that same vein of thinking, a video game is a movie in which you can interact. Imagine if, when Leonardo Da Vinci painted his famed “Mona Lisa” that the viewer had the choice to walk a complete circle around her, watch time pass, and even choose to start a conversation with her. How much work would he have had to do to bring that experience and creativity to one of his appreciators? It’s quite unfathomable.Because I put WAAAY too much thought into things like this and can’t just play a game like a normal guy in his twenties, I am always looking for the art in a game. I need a powerful character, or an ingenious method of interactivity, or a deeply compelling story, or content that is particularly meaningful to me. For example, the game “Dante’s Inferno” which is based on the first chapter of Dante Aligheri’s influential piece, “The Divine Comedy” was right up my alley. You controlled Dante as he followed Virgil through the nine circles of hell. You got to fight off demons, start conversations with recognizable tormented souls made to perish (like Brutus or Judas) and even come face to face with Lucifer himself. It was an incredible experience.The reason why I am making you read all about this is because I just finished a game that may very well be this generation’s magnum opus in the art world. It was a video game, exclusive to the Playstation 3, (right at the end of its generation, too) that is shaking up the entertainment industry. It has received more perfect scores in its reviews than any other game in history. The best thing about the game is not the violence or the sex, (of which there is some of the first, but the game makes you feel guilty for resorting to it, which is a powerful directive choice, and none of the latter, which is appropriate) nor is it the gameplay, (which is very simple. you pick up items, you use them to survive.) What made the game wonderful was its story. It may be one of the most powerful narratives I have ever experienced.You play as Joel. He is a twenty-something contractor living in Austin, Texas with his preteen daughter, just down the road from his younger brother. You watch then as the world ends around them, and in the panicked aftermath, he loses his daughter.Twenty years later, a mutated cordyceps virus has left the world population a single digit percentage of what was left. Almost all governments have been disbanded and the few people that remain are either infected with the virus and soon to die, a bandit that pillages and kills to survive, or a shadow of a person hiding in the darkness, waiting for their time to come. Joel has been earning food rations as a smuggler and thief, estranged from his brother over ideological differences and perpetually mourning the death of his daughter.He is eventually given the task to take on his most dangerous job yet. He is to smuggle a young girl, about the age of his daughter when she passed away, from Boston to Wyoming. It is a journey of almost certain death, but after learning that the girl may have within her the cure to the virus, takes the burden in his hands. Traveling across the country in a wasteland of cities-turned-jungles and archaic forts and death traps, he defends the girl from infected monsters, cannibal bandits and other normal people like them that just needed to kill or die themselves.Joel bonds with the girl, and lets fall away the husk of callused feelings that kept him from loving another person since his daughter passed and eventually begins to care for her as he did his own little girl. At their journey’s end. (SPOILER ALERT – LAST WARNING) Joel learns that in order for the cure to be made, his little girl companion has to die. Making a last-minute decision, Joel murders the surgeons, and the militia that protected them and whisked his little girl back into the wild. When she wakes up, he looks her in her little face and lies to her. He tells her they were not able to find a cure and have given up trying. The girl begins to cry, feeling a very powerful survivor’s remorse. She begs Joel to swear to her that he was telling the truth, and he did not doom the human species to death just so she could live and he could be with her. Joel looks at her, and without taking a breath, or pausing for an instant, he says, “I swear.”“The Last Of Us” was an intense gaming experience. A novice to survival or adventure games will be challenged, and the heaviness and complexity of the story definitely aim it for an adult audience.However, it was beautiful, elegant, visceral, realistic, and knew the heart of a human better than most pieces of art ever will.I write this to you because you are appreciators of art and story. I want to share this experience because you need to know that there is beauty and wonder in a million other forms of art in the world. A romance book is not the only medium that can show true love. I encourage you to pick up “The Last Of Us” and play it for yourself. I also encourage you to taste all the art and expression you can get your eyes on. You will be rewarded.I love you. Here is my author page. https://www.facebook.com/ForAHeroHere is the link to my book.
FOR A HEROMy email is:  jesshunter247@gmail.com Here is an excerpt from FOR A HERO where David rescues a little girl – the same hero spirit lives on.
Flames licked every wall of the once-beautiful Victorian home. The fire danced and made every hue transform into a dark orange. David knew exactly what to do. He felt more comfortable in a fire than out of one. A loud crack sounded above his head as a support beam gave way. Its heavy descent ended abruptly in the sturdy, solid palm of David’s broad hand. He effortlessly tossed it aside and continued searching the house.Between the crackling of the burn, David’s ears caught a strangled cough. A child. Probably a young girl. He could hear her in one of the bedrooms in the back hallway. He sturdied himself. His self-contained breathing apparatus allowed him to stand tall without the smoke filling his lungs. The muscles on his back hardened, preparing to support whatever burden he was called upon to bear.“Hello? Is anyone there?” David didn’t want to waste time searching each room. He needed to know exactly where she was.“I’m in my room,” a tiny voiced choked out through sobs of fear. David checked, but the door was jammed. The hinges may have warped or the walls become compressed together due to the fire eating away at the studs and ceiling. Fire can kill in so many ways.“Step away from the door,” David shouted. With a mighty shove, he broke the door open quickly and cleanly. A lonesome young girl lay on her bed, clasping a teddy bear wearing a red ribbon, while fire ate the room around her.“Are you ok, Sweetheart?” David asked gently. . He would have liked to stop and check her for injuries, but there just wasn’t time.“I want my mommy. I am so scared.”“It’s ok, Honey. I know where your mommy is. I am going to help her save you. Is it alright with you if I pick you up?”The young lady nodded and held her arms into the air, one still holding tightly to the teddy. David gently lifted her to his chest, flexing his biceps until his arms were solid as oak. She was wrapped in armor.David walked back the way he came, it was imperative that they leave the building as soon as possible. It might fall any moment.
The house creaked at David, warning him of the impending collapse. He lengthened his stride. She mustn’t know what danger she was in. David had made her safe now. That was his purpose.He was too late. Just as the light of day could be seen through the front door, fire ate through the ceiling and it came crashing down, blocking their way with embrous debris. The scream of the child’s mother was muffled behind the mountain of white-hot wood, insulation and sheet rock, obstacles fire had placed in his way. Ceiling tile and a large wooden board clashed with David’s back. The plank snapped on his trapezius. He felt no pain. This was his job. However, the sound of the crash caused the child to bury her face in David’s chest. He hated her to be afraid while he held her.He turned around. Homes like this always had another door. He marched through the kitchen, shielding the child from spark and flame. He found it. The side door. It stood near the cooking appliances and the danger of electric shock kept most of the emergency response team clear of the area. David, however, had no choice.Without a hand to open the door, he stepped back to ready his kick.“Hold on, Honey. We’re almost there. Protect Teddy.”A wicked snap resounded through the house and the door flew through the air into the back yard. The breeze of freedom wrapped their bodies in cold and comfort.From the front, the snap could be heard clearly. Police held on to the woman, her screams echoing down the street. The house trembled and cracked. With a belch of smoke, her home imploded into rubble.“NOOO!! God, no!! My baby! Why did nobody get my baby?” She screamed accusatorially at the firemen and police who stood idly watching fire steal her world from her. The news reporters had nothing to say. The cameras just rolled on.“The Fire Chief, David Conlon, was in the house, Ma’am. He went in after your daughter.”“He went alone?!?! Why was he trying to save her alone!?!? Where are they?!?!”The team hung their heads while the fire hose rained life-saving water down upon the house. It would be hours before the firemen and EMT’s could retrieve and transport the bodies from the smoldering ruins. Despite the ruckus, a silence stole the minds of the spectators between the sobs of the mother.At that moment, bursting forth from the cloud of smoke and water and despair, an angel walked calmly into the street, a little doll cradled in its arms. A wave of cheer and celebration erupted from the crowd. Where once there was silence and sadness, joy and hope popped like fireworks.
David handed the baby to her mother. Tears of joy streamed down her face and she petted the little girl’s face with kisses. He peeled off his hat and mask. His black curly hair framed his face. The ash-blackened silhouette of his SCBA encircled his brilliantly blue eyes. She gasped at the beauty of the man that saved her only child.“Thank you so much. You have no idea what you did for me today. You are my hero.” Her thankfulness welled up within her. This man was her savior. Without him, she would have said goodbye to her daughter instead of hugging her.“Please don’t, Ma’am. It’s just my job.” David accepted the gratitude, but he did not bask in it. He did not do what he did for the “thanks.” He smiled a little smile at the woman and kissed the girl on the crown of her forehead.Without an ounce of pride or boastfulness, he turned and walked away. The excitement faded. The police and rescue teams retreated. The mother took her child to start a new life elsewhere. Fire rested to attack another day, and David returned to his home alone. He cleansed himself of the ash, treated his wounds and waited for another chance to do the only thing on this Earth he knew how to do.

~ MEET JESS HUNTER ~

Hey Jess, why do you write romance? 


Thanks for asking, Ma’am. Because romance is in my bones. My Momma and my Sister raised me sweet and kind. They messed up a little around the humble part, but you can’t be perfect, right? They raised me to take care of ladies, open their doors, give them flowers and all that stuff. When all of the other kids were listening to LL Cool J talking about bitches and hos, I was listening to Dr. Hook singing “Sharing the Night Together” and looking forward to talking about my feelings. Things have changed. Many women have come and gone in my life and I have been jaded, got big and manly, messed around and got messed with, but romance is still a source of magic, wonder and excitement in my life. 

In the spirit of new beginnings of love stories, (since I just released my first romance novel – FOR A HERO) I thought I might share the story of my first kiss with you. Enjoy.

When I was very young, and by very young, I mean around 8 years old - Sable was the “Grand Soloist of Texas” in some state-wide charitable organization, a big deal. Their conventions numbered in the tens of thousands. This meant that every time anybody anywhere needed anything sung, we had to drive all the way across the state to get there. I don’t know if any of you know just how big Texas is, so I will share this expression my Nana used to say frequently, “the sun has risen, and the sun has set, and dang-it, here we ride through Texas yet.”

For hours on end we would follow the broken yellow lines until we were in places I had never heard of, and most likely couldn’t point you to on a map. When we arrived, Sable would sing, and speak, and narrate and enthrall crowds with her person. Many times, she would have written her own music and programs and her fame as a personality grew and grew. (Yea, she was a pain.)

There was a girl there. I don’t remember who her parents were, but I’m sure one of them was pretty important for her to have been present at these shindigs all over the state. She was always there. She was a year older than me, and at that age, that meant that she was 6 inches taller than me and twice as worldly. She had red curls framing her chubby little face, and prominent freckles dancing beneath her bottle-top glasses. I was in love.

We would meet sometimes at the meetings or whatever they were and play power rangers and ninja turtles and the games that all the cool kids played. She was the pink ranger, and I was the red, blue and white ranger because all of the cool had to be mine. We ran amuck, causing trouble and mischief wherever our little miscreant hearts took us.

Occasionally, Sable would have me in her shows with her, usually playing a simple little role or singing a little tune to melt the hearts of the onlookers with my pre-pubescent presence. On one special occasion, both my little girl-friend and I were to be in the program together. I knew no greater rapture.

 I was George Washington and she was Martha. I was up to my usual presidential shenanigans and, of course, chopped down her beloved cherry tree. Hilarity ensued but I could not stay in trouble long, for you see, I could not tell a lie. Martha forgives me, the lesson is learned and we are to seal our adventure with a kiss. I hadn’t really thought about the kiss until moments before it happened and the weight of the situation slapped me like a bag of bricks. I panicked and covered her lips with my thumbs, kissing them instead. It was the first time in my entire life that I had been a wuss. Even at that young age, my inner man barked at me with orders to rectify at the earliest convenience. That, combined with my undying love for her, (we were to be wed, she just didn’t know it yet) and it was final. We were going to kiss. Tonight.

My PaPa, Nana’s husband, had drawn the short straw that evening and was left baby-sitting the two of us during the meeting proper. We were taken back to Sis’s hotel room and while he sat in his chair, smoking his pipe or chewing his tobacco like children of the Great Depression did, my love and I hopped from bed to bed tempting fate with our tiny little bodies.

After some good solid play time, we began to settle down into seated positions on adjacent beds. She looked me in my eyes; I stared back into hers. It’s time, Baby.

 She knew what she was doing, that coy little minx. Her eyes batted at me and her lips pursed. It was almost as if she flushed her cheeks on purpose just to make them look more precious. We held our breaths as we slowly leaned in toward one another. An eternity passed between the sealing of the eyelids and the contact of our lips.
It lasted only a moment. Our lips touched and we pulled back immediately. Her lips turned upward into the cutest little smile and I basked in the blush that consumed me.

 Then, all of a sudden, she began to laugh.

 Not a cute, sweet little giggle or an innocent but sincere chuckle, she was laughing. Her eyes were huge and she clutched her gut to control the overwhelming guffaw emanating from her diaphragm.

 I was mortified. What could I possibly have done within a fraction of a second kiss to deserve such ridicule or create such a response?

 After a few moments, it came to me.

 I looked down and my pants were wet from the knees to the waist. My poor little nervous bladder had emptied itself in anxiety. This princess I had enchanted only moments before was now erupting with enjoyment at my misfortune.

 Right there, in front of her and the Lord, my PaPa took me by the hand, led me into the bathroom and told me to clean up.

 I can’t tell you how I felt that evening after she left, or even what I thought regarding the situation. It was simply too traumatic to allow room for anything else. The only other thing I remember about that night was my poking my head out of the bathroom, looking over at that girl and giving her the biggest smile you could imagine.

Many years went by before I saw that girl again. I was around 14 then, a whole new man, strutting around Sams’ Club, shamelessly partaking of the free samples. My mom called me over and said, “Hey! Do you remember who this is?”

There she was, standing in all of her glory. However, the dimples and curls and chubbiness didn’t look as good now as it did then. We shared one of the most half-assed hugs anyone had ever seen. We both knew what each other was thinking. The night of the kiss-piss fiasco played vividly in our minds.

As embarrassed as I could have been, as shy and nervous and awkward as I could have been, I did it one more time. I smiled. A big, full, genuine smile and I owned that feeling. She will never forget me. We touched each other. I was a legend. A pee legend, but a legend nevertheless.

I walked away, with swag as always and I thought to myself, “What a great story.”

Thanks for reading one of the first adventures of Jess Hunter, lover extraordinaire.


 Here’s a sample from FOR A HERO. David and Jena’s first kiss. I hope you enjoy it. 

“Dinner was wonderful, David. Thank you so much.” Jenna sat in David’s passenger seat, holding her swan-shaped foil left-overs in her lap. “The whole evening, actually, was perfect.”
“It was my pleasure. It was so much better than I thought it would be.”
“What? You thought you wouldn’t have a good time with me?”
At her look of dismay, he quickly tried to explain. “No, not at all, Jenna. I just really dislike these social functions Blaine drags me to. They are usually stuffy and boring and I get humiliated in some way or another. But tonight was different. You were amazing.” He drove on, with his right hand resting warmly on her thigh. He felt like he needed to claim her in some way. “But the whole dancing thing was kind of terrible.”
“Good. I was hoping it would be something like that. And the dancing was adorable. You didn’t fall over too much.” They drove into the night. Southwest Austin was mountainous and green. Even at night, the hills could be seen rising above them.
“Where do you live?”
“On North Lamar past Koenig.” That location perked up David’s memory.
“I ride the bus over that way sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know. David, I have a confession to make.” She put her hands in her lap, curling up into herself, nervous for the reaction he would have to her revealing.
“What is it?”
“There is a reason why I simply had to buy you at the Fantasy Auction this evening. I have seen you before.”
David looked puzzled. His concentration bore down on her words as he turned north to reach her apartment.
“I was on the bus the day you got in a fight with that man because he wouldn’t let the women sit down. I watched you stand up for them. I noticed how you refused to throw a punch or say a cruel word.”
“That wasn’t a big deal. Anybody would have done that.”
“No, David, they wouldn’t. I have never met a man like you before in my life. I noticed you because you were huge and beautiful and striking, but after I saw what kind of heart you have, what kind of soul you have, I just couldn’t get you out of my mind.” She began to come out of her cocoon as she bared her soul.
David didn’t know what to say. He sat there in silence and drove, dumbfounded.
“Did I upset you?” She retreated again.
“No, Honey, not at all. This is just new to me. I haven’t had a lot of things happen to me like this, and I’m just trying to take it all in. I am flattered. I just don’t understand.”
“You are unreal, David Conlon. I just wanted to get a chance to figure out if you are as wonderful close up as you were from afar, and David, you are an angel.” She wrapped her arm around his and scooted over into the middle seat. She laid her head on his shoulder and rested.
They arrived at her apartment and he pulled into a parking spot. He, in true David fashion, hurried from his seat to hold her door. “Jenna, this evening has been magical. I hope you had as great a time as I did.”
He walked her to her door and stood with her. She looked down, fumbled with her keys, kicked her feet into the floor, and prolonged their visit as much as possible.
David hugged her, smiled and turned to walk away.
She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. “Where do you think you’re going? I paid fifteen thousand dollars for you; I better get my money’s worth. Come here.” Wrapping her arm around his neck, she leaned up into his chest and placed her mouth very near his. Sensations of heat and arousal pounded through her body, making her knees weak with longing. Jenna trembled as he looked into her eyes and slowly lowered his head until their lips met and melded together in a scorching, sweet kiss. Jenna moaned as their tongues danced, sliding over one another sensuously. They ate and drank of each other like they’d never get enough.
Her hands moved to his sides and pulled him closer. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, and she nestled against him, her breasts pressing into his chest. She could feel her nipples grow hard with need. .Their kiss was passionate, real, a once-in-a-lifetime type of kiss. He was perfect – just perfect and she wanted as much of him as she could get.
Letting her lips slide from his, Jenna reluctantly slipped from his arms. “Thank you, David. Everything was perfect. I wish I didn’t have to go to work tomorrow or I’d ask you to come inside, but the good people at Prudent Advertising wouldn’t appreciate my sleeping through the job.”
“No, thank you, Jenna. I enjoyed every moment,” his body ached for more, but now wasn’t the time. Holding her hands tightly in his, he clasped them together, brought them to his lips, and let her go. He walked away, but just enough so that she could go inside. He watched her enter, partly because he wanted to make sure she was safe, and partly because he wanted to catch every glimpse of her that he could. ‘David, you just kissed the most beautiful woman in the whole world.’ He floated home on cloud nine, never touching the ground.
Here’s the buy link for my book and my author page. 

http://www.amazon.com/For-A-Hero-ebook/dp/B00CDAXAN4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1368107135&sr=1-1&keywords=for+a+hero+hunter

https://www.facebook.com/ForAHero

You can also email me at jesshunter247@gmail.com 


Ross, Regina May. (2013, May 10). Meet Jess Hunter [Blog Post on Regina May Ross]. Retrieved from http://www.reginamayross.net/1/post/2013/05/-guest-blog-wgiveaway-jess-hunter.html
*Any reference to contests or giveaways have expired*

Jess Hunter Author of “For A Hero”THE HERO – THE GREAT MANPeople keep asking me why I seem so entranced by superheroes. It’s true that most kids grow up and “mature” past the idea of men in tights and capes leaping off of buildings, but for some weird reason, I never did.I have a lot of adulty fascinations also. I love fitness, philosophy, religion, history, literature, music and film. Some of these are hobbies so deep and complex that a lot of average people don’t have the time or facility to expend energy swimming through, so why is it that I also wrap a towel around my neck and try to save the day?Easy. Because its all the same to me. All of those things I listed, as well as the concept of the superhero, come from the same central, consuming theme that pervades every thought.There is a theory that sums up how our histories and lives play out. It is commonly called the “Great Man” theory. It postulates that history is just a series of biographies of great men. It implies that all of the greatness, and change, and power that the world has seen, comes from man, humanity, the all-powerful mind.This theory says to me that those sayings you hear when you are a kid, like “you can do anything you put your mind to” or “anything is possible if you just believe,” are absolutely, completely true.It says to me that inside every single one of us, is the potential to be a “great man” who will change the world, direct the course of history, inspire the millions and make a difference.It says to me that each one of us has a responsibility to be the best that we can be, to pursue our own perfection, mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually.It says to me, that in my journey to becoming my best self, I must share that wisdom, joy and love with all others around me, that I should express that to them with compassion and kindness and artful expression.It may be diluted and silly, but to me, the superhero is the archetype of that theory. It is a basic concept, wrapped in beautiful colors and flashy language, that resonates powerfully with children before that the stresses and distractions of the world separate them from it.A superhero is the best of us, he pushes himself to be stronger than he is, smarter than he is, more enduring than he is, and then sacrifices that perfection for the rest of us.And this archetype is the exact same story told in history, mythology, literature and film.It’s the most basic life lesson. It’s my church. It’s my goal. It’s my motivation. Its an instruction manual for growing up and being the best you can be.So you can all laugh, or judge, or snicker or belittle my S on my chest or my cape. It’s ok. I’m proud of it. I will continue to better myself physically, intellectually and spiritually. I will continue to love and put my life down for my fellow man. I will continue to express these archetypes and stories in my books. And it will be because of my recognition of the importance of superheroes.And I will cry like a little bitch when Superman saves the day in “Man Of Steel” on June 14.I love you,
Jess

Here’s an excerpt from FOR A HERO – a naughty one – just for one.You can visit me on my author page https://www.facebook.com/ForAHeroOr my email – jesshunter247@gmail.comWhen David arrived at the apartment, Jenna’s door was left ajar. A twinge of excitement rushed up his spine. He had no idea what to expect. He just thought, ‘please Lord, don’t let her be cooking barbeque.’He swung the door open.“Stick ‘em up!”David stood still. He didn’t know what was going on. “Excuse me?”Jenna spoke with as fierce and growly a voice as she could. Sadly for her, it came out sounding like a raspy cat that might have had a cold. “I said: STICK ‘EM UP!”Her voice changed back to sweet, normal Jenna. “Also, could you please close the door and lock it behind you, thanks!” Fierce, sick kitty voice. “Now stick ‘em up!”David closed the door while fighting a laugh. His baby was wearing a leather vest that covered her boobs, but not much else, and chaps, he thought. But he looked closer at her crotch. “Are you pant-less again?”“I am Jenna the Kid! The most ruthless, gun-totin’, scoundrel-shootin’, bank robbin’ cowgirl that the wild, wild west has ever seen. And I’ll wear ass-less chaps over my bare bottom if I feel like it! You’re cuttin’ up a fine figure tonight, Mr. Conlon. I am going to need you to hand over your wallet, and your clothes.”David slowly put his hands in the air. “Are you serious?”“Yes, I’m serious! I’m more serious than a bluetick hound in a hydrant garden.”“What?”“I’m new at western expressions, don’t judge. But I’m not new at holdin’ up lily-livered, yella-bellied, sons o’ guns like you. Now take your clothes off!”David wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to do other than what she was telling him to do, but his fire was starting to burn, seeing her body in that tight, little costume. Jenna thought she had the upper hand, but David would turn the tables and enjoy doing it.Out-gunned, temporarily, by Jenna the Kid, Dirty Dave Conlon began to take his clothes off. Ripples of lust warred with his natural reluctance to give up control.  “As soon as you slip up, Jenna the Kid, I’m going to swipe your six-shooters and wale the tar outta you.” Stark naked, David put his hands up in the air. The muscles of his chest and stomach pulled tight as his arms extended above him. His cock, already hanging very low, began to elongate and stand in response to the attention that Jenna’s eyes were giving it. He saw her notice. He was hoping his dick would distract her just enough for him to strike.“I don’t slip up so easy, Dirty Dave.” Then she saw his cock. It grew in front of her eyes. “Oh my god.” She almost dropped her gun. He flexed his kegel muscle and his rod jumped up for her. Jenna’s mouth dropped open and she began to lick her lips. David saw an opportunity and took it.He leaped at her, throwing her gun to the ground. Jenna pushed him away, but not very hard. He didn’t move. She jumped back instead and turned to get some distance between her and her dueler. As she scampered away, David could see her cute, little ass bouncing as her legs moved her across the room. “You’re pretty fast, Dirty Dave. But can you out-wrangle THIS?” Jenna pulled a lariat from a hiding spot behind her and began to swing it in the air, with very poor form. “I’m gonna hog-tie you!”David stood up tall, making himself as easy a target as possible.She tossed the loop at him, and he kind of leaned into it, catching the rope with his head. Jenna squealed. “Yeah! Gotcha now!”She ran to him and pulled the slack up. She started to wrap him in the rope, making coil after coil around his torso. When she had used most of the rope, she held up the end of it, and David could see that she was racking her brain trying to imagine how to tie it. He snickered and she held her toy pop gun up to his chin. “Don’t you laugh at Jenna the Kid.” Then she threw the gun down and starting making the end of the rope into cute little bows like shoelaces. She eventually bunched it up and sat it under her knee as she straddled him. “There’s no use squirming around, Dave. I’ve got ya wrangled. Now time for me to take my prize.” Jenna reached behind her and grabbed for his cock. When her fingers found it, she slowly wrapped them round it and stroked. She rubbed his shaft painfully slow.“Jenna, touch me faster.”“No. I tied you up. I get to do just exactly what I want to do with you.”David growled. Jenna hummed her satisfaction. It wasn’t taking long for her plan to start working. She spread her legs wider. Her ass-less chaps left her pussy exposed save for just the curve of her bottom. As she opened herself, David could feel the heat and moisture emanating from her sex.His cock answered with a vibrating little tremble. Jenna could feel it in her hand. “Is this what you want?” She rubbed the tip of his dick against her pussy lips, letting her cream coat the sensitive head. Just the first inch or so of his member felt the warmth of her pussy but she never pulled it farther in. “Jenna, you’re killing me. Take it all in.”“You are not being very patient with me. I’m not going to let you feel all of me until you learn to be grateful and respectful.” As she spoke, she felt David’s great strength as he tensed his muscles. She began to understand how easily he could get loose if he really wanted to. Her knee on the rope created a good-enough illusion that he wouldn’t pull at it, she hoped. But then again, she did want him to break his bonds. Jenna held him tighter and squeezed his cock in her hand. She let it slide in front of her pussy and used it to stimulate her clit. She bent his dick forward and moved her body up and down the shaft, so that the ridge of his head plucked at her pearl every time she slid up.“You’re driving me crazy.”“When you get there, Cowboy, let me know.” Her challenge was met with a roar from her captor. She smiled and opened her vest. Her breasts fell out, jiggling in front of his face. . Jenna played with her nipples while looking David in the eye. She slid her fingers into her mouth to get them wet and then swirled them around her tit, causing her nipple to bulge with want. Her other hand slid down to her vagina and dipped inside. She slid it out and used the cream to slickly stroke his dick.“Stop teasing me.” David’s voice was huge and harsh. It was resonant and deep. She could hear the power in the vibrations his voice caused in her chest and stomach.“Make me.”
Hunter, Jess. (2013, May 17). The Hero - The Great Man [Blog Post on Reading by the Book's Blog]. Retrieved from http://readingbythebook.com/2013/05/jess-hunter-author-of-for-a-hero/
*Any references to contests or giveaways have expired*

BLOG: INTERVIEW TODAY WITH UP AND COMING MALE EROTIC ROMANCE WRITERMIMI:  When you interview a guy who is writing erotic romance, you have to be sure your panties can handle his handsome face and his wit without embarrassing you. The safest thing we could think of was to not be swayed from what we planned to ask…no matter how tempting! Because, the erotic romance writer we’re talking to today is the co-author is Sable Hunter— If you’ve read the hot, sexy story of David in “For a Hero” and things started out heated (fire – LOL), then you should get a cold drink, sit back, and enjoy the fun that is about to happen. He is a recently new fiction writer of erotic romance books. And, judging by the Amazon and Goodreads responses (some double-digit reviews with 5-star average), it appears he is going to be successful.Are you ready? Ladies, take a deep breath and say “hi” to our handsome and funny guest,JESS HUNTER!! MONA:  I have an idea that there’s probably quite a few women panting over this guy now who might have wondered just WHO IS JESS HUNTER really and WHAT DOES HE LOOK LIKE?Does it seem to you that you’re collecting a following, Jess? Can you tell us a little bit about your current passion? And, what is your latest book and where can our readers go to buy it?
JESS: Thank you. My current passion is exploring and familiarizing myself with the genre (erotic romance) and crafting my next book that will come out later this year. My latest was “For A Hero” and it is available exclusively on Amazon.  http://www.amazon.com/For-A-Hero-ebook/dp/B00CDAXAN4
MIMI:  Before we get further into your book, which I really enjoyed, by the way…
Anyway, how about sharing something about yourself?
JESS:  My name is Jess! Sable is my sister. We live in Texas and do a lot of work together. I spend most of my time working out, singing, eating, watching movies, chasing women, being chased by women (just kidding), writing and thinking. I have more than one job, but I love everything I do and I want to do a lot more.
MONA:  Hey, Jess, I loved your book. So, when did you start writing? And, what is it that makes you write?JESS:  I’ve always written, ever since I was very, very young. The quality is debatable, but I found it easy and comfortable to do. I write because I love stories. I love living things that would make great stories. I love telling stories. I love hearing stories. I love thinking about stories. I also love money, so that is a tiny motivator as well. 
MONA:  Well, we won’t go into the financial side of being an indie writer…that could take an hour just on its own.
MIMI:  I have a question. When you write with someone else, and we all know you write with Sable Hunter, how do you decide what character or which part of the story you will be writing? Is collaborating difficult?
JESS:  The only person I’ve ever REALLY written with is Sable.She is such a professional, she has such a talent and skill developed for writing that she can let me mess around with words the way I like to do, and then she can come behind me and make them into something meaningful and appropriate. “For A Hero” was my brain-child, but Sable added everything that makes it an erotic romance novel that readers enjoy.So to answer your question, collaborating is very easy.
MIMI:  How have readers and reviewers comments affected you and or your writing?
JESS:  It’s always been about the readers and reviewers. I worked on Sable’s books ever since she began. I edited each of them over and over again. I worked on marketing and publishing them. I’ve read them several times as well as each review and many of the reader feedback emails that Sable received. It was Sable, Sable’s responses, and my own unusual voice and diction that combined to create my “writing.”
MONA:  Yeah…and there are many, many of us who really like the way your “voice” works to well with Sable’s.Hey, we asked Sable, but what do you think about when you are alone in your car?
Jess:  Haha Everything! I am very much a thinking person. I spend a lot of time thinking about philosophy and religion. I work my way down through history in my head. I think about stories in all different mediums.I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about bettering myself. I am addicted to nutrition and fitness and can’t make one day without assessing and changing my routines.I sing a lot.And then there’s superheroes, I think about those a lot, too.
MONA:  Ooo, he sings!  If we were live, we’d ask you to share one of your favorite showerturnes with us.  I’m impressed ‘cause Mimi can’t carry a tune from one room to the next or out the front door.
MIMI:  HEY!!!  LOL…well, that is true.And, I did notice you have a bit of super-hero items on your Facebook page. Are you considering ever creating a new super hero and writing his story?
JESS:  Haha, you noticed? No. I will never create one. But you can see them in everything I do. I believe that superheroes are the mythology of our time and represent the same archetypes that we see in religion, philosophy, history and literature. Every story has already been told. The concept speaks to me, so I use it when I speak also.
MIMI: Jess, what influences your life now that you are counted among the family of writers?
JESS:  Am I? That’s flattering and terrifying. Haha, I pay more attention to entertainment now. I look for literary and cinematic tools I can use in my own art. I pick apart movies and books and television shows for rhetoric, concepts, and ideas I can incorporate to get these books in my head onto paper.
MONA:  <groans – laughs>  You sound like Mimi!
MIMI:  Hey, what’s going on, Mona?  LOL!
Jess, have you ever wondered how people will communicate in the future and what the role of books will be? How do you want your books to be seen in a future world?
JESS:  I have no doubt in my mind that books will go the exact same way as music. It already has. Eventually, the world’s literature will exist solely on the cloud and we will have to pay to access the Google library to read anything. We’re already on the way. Kindle is a huge step in that direction.In the future, I just want my books to be remembered.
MONA:  Pay to use a library?  Hmmm. Something to really think about.
What can you tell us about your ideal readers?
JESS:  Any reader is my ideal reader. I want an educated person with a penchant for literary analysis to pick it apart and dissect the themes and references that I work pretty hard to layer in them, and to read and enjoy my book.
I also want a casual reader who is searching for a delicious feeling or reference to make their day brighter or less boring.
Every person who reads my book is a blessing to me for which I am eternally grateful.
MIMI:  As for your writing career, do you find that people remember you as one of your characters or for your first book? And, is it hard to break away from that?
JESS:  So far, I find that I’m mostly remembered for being Sable’s brother. I wouldn’t know if it was hard to break away from that; I haven’t tried.There is a lot of me in David and Blaine. In many ways, they are exact opposites, and I experience a yin-yang dichotomy within myself that sounds a lot like the banter between those characters. I’m sure most people have a similar situation going on within their own brains.When you read my work, you do get to know me.
MIMI:  Jess, I know you are probably busy with your career and all the others things going on in your life, but can you give us a sneak peek into the future of your writing career? What can we expect to see?
JESS:  Ooooh. Immediately I am working on a sequel to “For A Hero.” I won’t reveal too much about it yet, but you will get to know Blaine a lot better. It will be longer, more complex, and more detailed than its predecessor, but I hope it will touch people emotionally similarly.I also have planned seven or eight other books, most of which are not erotic romances at all. I have a science fiction book, a horror book, a fantasy, and an adventure already in the planning/outlining stages.You can expect to see a lot of prolific variety in the upcoming years.
MIMI:  Hear that ladies?  Are we ready for all Jess’ genres?  I think I am. 
MONA:  Remember we asked Sable about five of her favorite tech gadgets and how she integrates them into her day-to-day busy schedules and you made a funny comment? Can you answer the same question for us about you?
JESS:  I do a lot of work from my phone, as well as play. It is my mostly companion and an eternal tool.I don’t have five, honestly. I love my truck and laptop.My Bowflex Selecttech Dumbbells are vital to my living also. (Sponsor? Sure, Bowflex! Send the check to …)
MONA:  <laughing at Jess’ humor>
MIMI:  Jess, do your books have a messages to your readers? What are they?
JESS:  Yes. My books have several messages. If I wanted to tell you, I wouldn’t have woven them so painstakingly into my books!I can tell you some. There is a lot of optimism, hope, love, and dedication in the books. The characters are on a journey. There are spiritual subtexts. If you look hard enough, you may find parallels with characters in history or mythology, but I’m not telling.
MIMI:  Well, then, will you share something about yourself that no one knows?  Any secrets?
JESS:  Hmmm… I don’t know… I am single and looking for love. Did anyone know that?
MIMI:  Ladies? Here’s your chance!Hey, what absolutely sparks your interest beyond words beyond writing (and reading)? And, what can you tell us about your interest?
JESS:  I am endlessly interested in philosophy, religion, fitness, and superheroes. I could talk about them, seriously, for days without end.I’d hate to bore you with any of my musings, (as I have done to an unfortunate several before) but I suppose I can tell you a little bit. I am currently writing an essay about the superhero mythology and how it fits into the Great Man theory of the direction of history. It’s real nerdy stuff. 
MONA:  There you go, Mimi.  Mim’s  a nerdy girl, so she’ll enjoy it.Jess, what song do you think best describes your work ethic?
JESS:  “Free and Easy” by Dierks Bentley
MIMI:  If you could be any literary character, who would you be and why? How did that character grow from the beginning of the novel to the end or was it a static character?
JESS:  I would be Dirk Pitt. He isn’t exactly static, but his adventures are ongoing and ongoing with plenty of adventure, women and treasure-hunting, and he MIGHT learn something here and there.
MONA:  I know you said earlier, but in case someone missed it, what are you currently working on?  Is it a sequel? How much detail can you give us?
JESS:  It is a sequel to “For A Hero.” It will be a bit darker, a bit more complex, and a bit longer. There will be more humor and more suspense. The primary characters from the first book will make appearances, and there will be plenty more new faces.
MIMI:  Last question. If there were to be any call to action by you, what action would you want a new writer to take from your experience as a writer? What single piece of advice do you have for anyone who is interested in writing?
JESS:  Two things: First, tell stories. Look for stories. Make ordinary days into extraordinary stories and fill them with love, and mystery and wonder and the sublime.Secondly, if you are going to write something down, OUTLINE IT. Outline it and then make everyone you know look at the outline. Once the outline is done, the book will write itself.
MIMI:  Good advice. And, before Mona jumps in, just let me add that when I give my lectures, READ, READ, READ and OUTLINE YOUR STORY are two pieces of free advice I also offer.
MONA:  On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate me as an interviewer?  No, I’m just kidding. But, seriously, what would your answer be? No…no, please… I’m teasing.I just want to say thank you for spending time with Mimi and me today and answering our silly and serious questions and more importantly, for letting the readers learn something about you they might not learn on your other blog stops.
JESS:  To the first question — I say,  45 out of 10 Solidly.
MIMI:  Jess, Mona will bleed you for ratings…LOL. I understand you also have a copy of two books as giveaways; is that right?
JESS:  Yes. Just comment on the interview or comment about which book from either “Forget Me Never” or “For A Hero” you would like to win and why.  MONA:  Hey, Sable hinted that you might have a really hot excerpt from “For A Hero”.  Can you share it here for us?
JESS:  Sure. Enjoy.
EXCERPT – 18+ ONLY, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE
David carried Jenna through the threshold of her apartment like a man carries his bride. His strides were long and light and he quickly laid her down on the couch. He pulled a blanket over her body and knelt by her side. His hand rubbed her forehead and brushed the hair out of her face. “You have a beautiful apartment, Jenna. I’m glad we got you back here safely. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
She rolled her head over to him. “You saved me.”
He smiled to himself. “No, I didn’t. I just carried you to the ambulance, and they didn’t even do anything for you. You were just lucky. It had nothing to do with me.”
“That’s silly. You saved me. Had you not found me out there, I could have died.”
David started laughing. “There is no way, unless the crickets staged a coup.”
Jenna rolled on her side to face him. “When I opened my eyes and saw you there, I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. You make me feel so safe.” Her hand outstretched to his chest and she planted it firmly over his heart. “Thank you.”
He responded with a smile and he kissed her forehead. “You need some rest. It’s been a long night. I’m going to go. I’ll come back tomorrow morning and check on you.”
“No! Wait! Who will take care of me if I’m here all night alone?”
David understood, but he wanted to play. “Whatever do you mean? The doctor gave you a clean bill of health. You need some sleep.” He turned and walked toward the door.
“Oh David, I’m feeling faint.” She put her wrist against her forehead and made a mega-dramatic sigh face as she turned her head away from him. “Maybe a kiss would make me all better.” She pursed her lips forward in a kissing motion without removing her wrist or turning her head.
David laughed. “Oh yeah? Where can I give you that kiss to make it most effective?”
Jenna pooched her lips out even farther, looking like a very feminine little fish.
“What? I don’t speak guppy.”
She whipped her head around to him and pointed at her sweetly pooched mouth.
“Oh, ok.” David smugly commented and he sank down next to her again.
His mouth met hers slowly and tenderly. The skin of their lips melded together; moisture coated them and he gave her one big, firm, sweet kiss. The sound that it made pulling his lips from hers warmed his soul.
She made a little pouty groan deep in her throat, just one flat syllable of “mmm.” Her feigned distress was rather pitiful, but all at once, magically endearing.
“What is it, Honey?”
“For my health to get better, I think I will need more kisses.” She made a sympathetic sick face, like an orphan asking for soup.
“Where do you need kisses?”
Without skipping a beat or changing her facial expression, she ripped the blanket from her body quickly and as soon as it was gone, returned to slow, sad little movements.
He rested his hand tenderly on her belly. “Here?”
She nodded, visibly under imaginary duress.
He pulled her shirt up and kissed her stomach. He kissed little circles around her bellybutton and down to the seam of her pants and back up to the bottom of her bra. And then he sat back up. “All better?”
She aggressively shook her head from side to side, and pulled her shirt up over her bra. She turned her head away again making sad eyes.
David ran his nose between her breasts. “Here, too?”
Jenna nodded, not completely unable to show the pleasure he was giving her with his attention.
David kissed the skin not covered by the bra, smooches, little licks, and nibbles, too. With his fingertips, he pushed her bra up over her tits. Her nipples hardened quickly in front of him and he couldn’t resist but to fill his hands with them. He squeezed and kneaded and continued to kiss all around them. His lips found their way underneath her tits and he sucked the soft flesh into his mouth. He licked and laved and suckled before circling around them. With one long drag of his tongue, he licked over her nipples.
Jolts of electricity shot from her tits down to her pussy and then up to her head. She began to push her chest against him, and rub his head as he loved her.
David sat up. “All better?”
“Shit, no. Get back down here and cure me, goddammit!” She pulled his head down to her stomach and pushed him toward her denim skirt.
“Is this where you want me, Honey?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She pushed harder.
“Well, if you don’t know, then I can’t rightly take advantage of your indecisiveness. I have to know you want me there for sure, or I can’t go.”
“Yes, David, kiss my pussy, please.”  The fever of lust had gotten to her head and pushed the game out of her mind.
He lay on the couch with her, his head at her pelvis. He ran his hands down her perfectly smooth legs. They were strong and shapely and flawless. He breathed out as he caressed her thighs with his face, his cheek and lips and breath dragging across her skin. He blew up her skirt, to send shivers up her spine. With extreme slowness, he rolled the skirt up her legs, revealing a pair of pink panties. “These are cute.”
“Shut up. I didn’t know this was going to happen today.”
“No, Jenna. I like pink.” He bit at the crotch of her panties. He licked them and made them wet, and then breathed slow, hot air onto them. She vibrated with want and rocked her hips up to him, using his face to stimulate her. “Easy, Baby. We’ll get there.”
“Grrrrr.” Jenna play-growled at him, although she was getting very antsy waiting.
He used his index finger to pull the panties to the side, revealing her beautiful pussy lips. David let loose a little sigh of satisfaction as he moved his mouth to her. One soft kiss to her lips and Jenna shook. Her back arched. David sent his tongue down into her channel, exploring, tasting, getting to know her. As it curled back up to tickle her inside, his lips kneaded her labia. “Oh my god, David.”
He pulled his tongue out and pushed back her hood with his upper lip before sucking her clit into his mouth. He worked it in and out of his lips, sucking and breathing and licking. Jenna wrapped her thighs around his head. “I’m getting close!” David took her hips with his hands and pulled her into his face. His kisses and licks became faster and faster until he was moving her clit in and out of his mouth so quickly that Jenna started to scream.
“I’m cumming!” Her body convulsed, but David never let go; he never stopped, not until all the lights and explosions and joys of her orgasm had left her. As she calmed down, he sat up, wiped his lips and smiled.
“That was fun.”  MIMI and MONA:  Thank you for stopping by today, Jess. And for entertaining us. OKAY ladies…send Jess some comments!! And, if you haven’t already, buy his book “For a Hero.”Mimi & Mona. (2013, May 22). Interview Today with Up and Coming Male Erotic Romance Author, Jess Hunter [Blog Interview]. Retrieved from http://mimiandmona.wordpress.com/2013/05/22/blog-interview-today-with-up-and-coming-male-erotic-romance-writer/#comments
*Any references to contests or giveaways have expired*

DEVIL WOMANSable: “So, Jess, what did you want to talk about in our blog this week?” Miss Mary Wehr had kindly agreed we could appear on her page and I wanted to make a good impression. After all, we are working hard to introduce Jess to all of my friends.Jess: Dunno.Sable: Come on! Say something funny! Something clever! Something witty! Something people want to hear about!Jess: Like what?Sable: “Living With Sable.”Jess: Oh my god.Sable: What’s wrong with that? I’m a fun person. Sometimes I just think funny things.Jess: Oh nothing. I just enjoy how much you enjoy yourself.Sable: That’s not true. I’m the most humble person I know.Jess: See what I mean? I have a better idea. How about we tell the people how evil you are?Sable: Evil, me? And what? Are we going to tell them how you are such an angel?Jess: Yes. I like it. I think we’re on to something.Sable: (rolls eyes) Please.Jess: Ok, let’s get started.Sable: Wait, you’re serious?Jess: Yes. So, how evil are you? Quantify it for the readers at home.Sable: I can’t do that. I’m not evil. I’m sweet and cute and cuddly and so smart that my head hurts.Jess: You’re right. We should start with how conceited you are. How about how pure I am. How pure am I you ask? Quantify it for the readers at home.Sable: You are the exact opposite of pure. You are a little turdhead.Jess: I like it. You’re opening with heresy. It’s like a showcase of the seven deadly sins. Lust for you is obvious. Pride is, too. Your ego is bigger than the house.Sable: Is not. I’m adorable.Jess: Tell me about how treasonous you are.Sable: You have to make it funny. You can’t make me sound bad. I’m not treasonous. I don’t plot to overthrow the government.Jess: I wasn’t going for funny. I was going for exposition. The world needs to know these things. They need to know the real Sable Hunter.Sable: Ok, fine. Let’s talk about how “sweet” you are.Jess: Good idea. Let’s go for contrast. You and I are like two different sides to the same coin. We both have similar goals, and are motivated primarily by love, but our principles are so antithetical that we are as Yin and Yang. Ooooh, by the way, did you know that Yin and Yang actually DO mean good and evil AND male and female? Guess which one is which… Sable: I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening. I was too busy thinking deep thoughts, analyzing large amounts of information, and unconditionally loving you and all the animals in the world. What were you saying?Jess: Come on. Don’t play like that. You write literature that inspires lecherous thoughts. You practice Wiccanism and other colorful forms of Paganism, AND you have been investigated by the FBI. Twice.Sable: Those may be true, but they are not definitively evil.
Jess: No, but relatively yes. I am obnoxiously American, aggressively compassionate, and indelibly progressive. Angels sing when I walk into rooms.Sable: You are so full of crap. Your eyes ought to be brown.Jess: But they’re blue, the color of the heavens…Sable: Never mind, Jess. This was a bad idea. Just write a story about one of your adventures and forget this whole thing.Jess: Hold on. I’m not done. I was kind of kidding about you being evil, but what I was really trying to reveal was our complimentary differences. I mean, beside me saving the world and you sucking the souls out of innocents, there are characteristics we don’t share that work excellently in tandem. What I am REALLY trying to say is that you and I work great together and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.Sable: Awwww, Jess. That’s so sweet. It makes me want to cry.Jess: Yeah, you wept when holy water was sprinkled on you, too.Sable: You were doing so well…Jess: You are creative and I am pragmatic. You are dependable and I am ambitious. You are comforting and I am adventurous. You keep us grounded, and I push us forward. We make a great team. I love you, Sis.Sable: Thanks, Buttonhole. I love you, too. And now, you know how our evenings at home turn out. Oh, we have fun. We work together. We fight over TV shows. We root for the Longhorns. We watch Superman trailers – over and over. I cook and he eats. Which reminds me of a scene from FOR A HERO – let’s look. But before you go: here’s my website: http://sablehunter.com/ 
Our author Fan pages: https://www.facebook.com/authorsablehunter  https://www.facebook.com/ForAHero
The book link: http://amzn.to/17E9BjK Our emails – sablehunter@rocketmail.com And jesshunter247@gmail.com


Jenna spun in crazy circles around the room, making sure everything was in order. There were bowls of snacks on the table. Earlier in the day, she had searched all the sports channels for a football game. She didn’t know what days were football days, but she prayed to God that tonight would be one of them. After pouring through her entire subscription list, she found a channel called “ESPNC” and a game coming on at 7. “Dallas Cowboys vs. Houston Oilers” She had been so excited at how perfect it was. She was sure he was a Texas football fan, aren’t all men in Texas football fans? And to her luck, this night of all nights, two Texas teams were playing each other!
Jenna wore an oversized blue jersey that used to belong to her father an eternity ago. It wasn’t a Cowboy or Oiler jersey, although both teams wore blue, and she hoped that the fact she was pant-less would distract David from her mismatched hue.
She kept checking her phone. He still hadn’t answered. Her text was so aggressive. She hoped he would find it suggestive and tempting, but the nagging sensation left over from years of disappointment and poor male role models told her that he would find it slutty and unappealing. He may tear into the house and demand his keys back before
storming out of her apartment and out of her life forever. And then where would she be? Pant-less, watching football.
Surely not, this was David. There was no way he would treat her so brusquely. Well, he did leave this morning, didn’t he? No explanation or concern. Jenna sat down on the couch as the pre-game talk was beginning. Had she made a mistake?
She didn’t have time to ponder it. There was a knocking on the door. It was very hard and sudden. Oh no. He sounded angry.
Jenna shyly pulled down on her jersey, attempting to give it the appearance of a dress. She moved toward the door and opened it slowly, terrified of what state the man standing in her doorway would be in.
David stepped in quickly, so quickly that Jenna wasn’t even 100% sure it was him until he was upon her. Her heart jumped and froze. But before she could get a look at his face to judge his disposition, he hugged her. David gave her the biggest hug she had ever gotten. His big arms wound around her little body and made her feel small and important at the same time. She shook a little bit, as the stress left her and she melted into him.
“You’re not mad?”
David roared with laughter. “Haha no. What? You change gears so quickly. You were teasing me over text ten minutes ago, and now, you are unsure what mood I’d be in? You are so cute.” He then stepped back and looked at her. His eyes moved down, seeing the lack of slacks and choice of dress. “I like the way you’re dressed. It’s very. . . progressive.”
Jenna remembered what clothes she was wearing, and felt shy. “I thought it was appropriate, and to be honest, I hoped you would think I was cute.” Her blush painted her cheeks a pretty pink, but her smile was a bit mischievous.
Women were complex, he knew. Jenna was a woman of contradictions and he was endlessly fascinated. “You are beautiful. I have never seen a woman look so good. You are so sexy.”
The earnestness of his voice as he spoke such things made her feel wanted.
“But what makes it appropriate? I’m afraid I’m missing something.”
“Oh, I haven’t even told you yet!” She stepped back behind her table covered with snacks and shot her arms out in front of her, one gesturing toward the feast before her and the other toward the T.V. with the kick-off occurring as they spoke. “Ta-da! I’ve made you a little man-night party! I have snacks for you, I cooked you dinner that will be done in just a few minutes, and, well, I didn’t know what teams you loved, so I was super lucky to find Dallas Cowboys playing the Houston Oilers tonight! Look! Isn’t it everything a man needs to be happy?” Her voice rose with hope and expectation.
He smiled as he looked at the appealing, sexy picture she made trying to please him. “Yes, this is everything I need to be happy.”
He gave her a little kiss and sat down on the couch, not wanting to give the impression of non-appreciation. Once he relaxed, something she said came back to him. Houston Oilers? There was no Houston Oilers anymore. They moved to Tennessee under new management. Did she mean the Houston Texans? He looked hard at the T.V. Sure enough, the Oilers ran out onto the field in their light blue jerseys and helmets. David felt puzzled. He glanced around the screen and noticed the letters at the top, ESPNC. Oh. David laughed.
“Honey, did you know I am psychic?”
She heard him correctly, she thought, but she stared at his face and saw not one drop of jokingness or facetiousness. “Umm, no.”
“Well, I am. In fact, I’ll make you a bet. I will tell you the exact score of this game before it ends. If I’m right, you have to give me a super special surprise afterward. You have to give me a strip show.” ‘Did I really just say that? I am so forward. What does this girl do to me? My mom raised me to be more of a gentleman.’
Jenna was floored, but played along. “Oh really? Well, I’ll take that bet. And, Mister Psychic, if you’re wrong, YOU have to give ME a strip show, just like you did on stage, but mine better have a very happy ending.”
“Then let the game begin.” David challenged her as he slipped some bugles into his mouth. He was grateful for store-bought snacks. “Dallas will win 20-17.”
“There is no way. You just revealed yourself as a fraud by the way. I don’t know too much about football, but I do know that touchdowns give six points, so both scores have to be an even number.” Jenna stood up and starting doing her own little end-zone dance, complete with hip thrusts and arm stabs. It was reminiscent of Elaine’s ‘Little Kicks.’ “So you didn’t even do your math, Boy! You better start limbering up for your dance.” She got up in his face with her cute, fake attitude. He welcomed it with a kiss.
“We’ll see. You have so much to learn.” His smile was huge.
She couldn’t help it. She fell into the couch next to him. His big body made a dent in the cushion so that she couldn’t sit away from him even if she wanted to. He had his own gravity. She could see it; all the people who surrounded him could see it. She wondered why he didn’t behave like he knew it was there.
Ding.
“Oh! That’s dinner! I’ll be right back.” Jenna jumped up from the couch and walked into her kitchenette. He didn’t know it, but her kitchen was much better stocked with food and cookware than it had been before she met him.
He watched her shuffle away. There was a whisper of her butt through the jersey; the bottom curve of her cheeks peeked at him beneath the royal blue. He peeked back.
“This is something I made just for you. I looked up some recipes for casseroles online, but none of them seemed manly enough for you, so I just kinda winged it.”
She placed in front of him, a tray of . . . something. He did his best not to show any emotion on his face. The top crust of whatever it was looked like a child had left three dozen black and yellow crayons out in the sun and they melted together into an amalgam of unpleasant colors and smells. David was terrified.
He took a fork and stabbed it into a corner of the dish.
“I call it ‘Game-Day Surprise.’ Tell me how it is.”
He heard a sick snap and crunch as his utensil grabbed hunks of unknowable material from the plate that may never be washed enough to remove this sin. “You sure do love surprises, don’t you?” He put it in his mouth. “Wow, Honey. Your food IS always a surprise.”
Nausea sat in. Every instinct in his body fought his swallowing movement. But, he labored, and like Heracles, he overcame. The gunk slid down his throat and was thankfully gone from anything that could taste it again. He had never tasted melted rubber before, but he thought he had a pretty good idea how it tasted now.
“Soooooo?”
“Words can’t describe the taste, and the texture, is just, inhuman.” David was very careful. “I can honestly say: I have NEVER eaten anything like this before. My life is now different. I will never think of casserole, football or you the same ever again, as long as I live.” He was proud. Every word was true.
“EEEEEEEEE! I’m so glad!” Jenna pulled out a journal and made a little note. “Since you loved it so much, I will save the recipe in my diary so I can make it for you again whenever you want.” She put it away and got up. “You enjoy it, Hon. I am going to clean the kitchen. Watch your game, and eat your food, and I’ll be right back.”
With the room to himself, David stared at the dish. He could swear it stared back at him. It knew what he was planning. David took a bag of Doritos that had been opened and poured the chips into a bowl near the salsa. He raked half the – stuff – into the bag and rolled it shut. He stood and took the bag into the kitchen where Jenna was. “Where is the trash, Babe?”
“Right over here, you are so helpful!” Jenna motioned to a cupboard that could be pulled open.
“Nah, I’m not. I just thought the chips would be easier to reach in the bowl.” He put the bag in, pushed the can closed and relished in his victory.
David came into the living room and sat. He hungrily ate as many snacks as he could before Jenna came back. When she arrived, she saw a big portion of the casserole missing. “Oh, Honey! I can’t believe you ate all that! It’s still the first quarter. I can make you some more.”
Before she could take another step, David grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the couch with him. “Oh no, you’re not. I want you here with me.”
Jenna smiled and snuggled her cheek up to him. David noticed and relaxed. It was finally over. He won.
After a few minutes of silent enjoyment, he turned and gave her a smile. His eyes sparkled. “Thank you so much for this. I love it. I’m having a wonderful time.”
She glowed with joy. She took his gratitude and rubbed it all over her face and her heart. She cozied down next to him. Jenna enjoyed David’s warmth as he sat in her apartment. She opened her home to him and here he sat, nobly, and comfortably, as if he belonged. Then, memories of the morning came back to her.
“David, why did you leave me this morning without saying why?”
He hadn’t even realized that was what happened. “Oh my god, Jenna, I am so sorry. That wasn’t what I intended to happen at all.” He turned to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I didn’t realize I did that to you.” He hugged her close.
“It’s ok. I just thought there was something wrong.”
“No, nothing like that. You were wonderful last night, just like you are tonight. I was really worried about my mom. With all the stuff that happened, the cars exploding and me meeting you, I realized I hadn’t thought about her as much as I should have and I wanted to see her. I left for her place early this morning. I guess I blew out the door so fast, I forgot my manners as well as my keys. I am sorry.” That was close enough to the truth for now.
Jenna relaxed. “You just wanted to see your mom?”
“That’s it. I promise. I had a wonderful time with you last night and I didn’t want it to end. I was disappointed that it turned out that way, me running out and all.”
Jenna snuggled in closer. “Don’t worry about it. Has anyone ever told you that you’re perfect?”
“My mom, but I don’t think that counts. Moms are supposed to say things like that. Anyway, I’m really not. Also, Mom said she wanted to meet you.” David said it without thinking; he continued to snack on bugles and watch the game. He didn’t realize what the words that came out of his mouth implied or how Jenna would take them.
“Meet your mom?” She sat up. “Are we there yet?” She asked with hope and fear.
“Are we where?”
“Are we meeting each other’s parents?”
“Well, I can’t think why not. I mean, you cooked me dinner and called me perfect. What else is left to do?”
Jenna was amazed. The world was simple to him, so black and white. There was a right and a wrong, and David woke up every morning and chose to be right. She bit her lip and thought. She couldn’t imagine staying with David forever. He deserved someone else, someone better. Perhaps, just saying ‘hello’ wouldn’t hurt, though. She must acquiesce, at least, to save the evening for David. He worked so hard and had been under so much stress; he needed some happiness.
“Yes, David. I would love to go meet your mom with you.”
David turned his head to her, and smiled. “She’s going to love you.” And he was back to the television.
They watched the game together. David didn’t jump when the teams were close to the end-zones; he didn’t cheer for touchdowns. Jenna wondered just how into football he really was. When it finished, Jenna rested her head on his shoulder. “Did you have a good time, Babe?”
“Did I? Check the score.”
Jenna remembered the bet, and his supposedly unnatural powers. Jenna gasped. “What the hell, David? How did you know?” The score read, as clear as day, Dallas 20 – Houston 17.
David lifted his brow. “I’m psychic. I can see the future. And you are about to give me a little dance.” He leaned back. His eyes told Jenna how pleased he was with his victory. His smile was sexy and confident and there was a hint of detachment and assertion in his features. It drove Jenna wild.
Slowly, she rose from the couch. Her thighs trembled and she felt her pussy moisten. Without more than a moment’s hesitation, she began to sway her hips back and forth. Biting her lower lip, she concentrated on the movement of her body. Jenna bent one knee and then straightened the other, rocking her hips in a figure eight. With sensual little gyrations, and tightly bound fists she pulled her jersey up on one side, then down and up on the other, showing David the wiggle of her hips and a glimpse of her ass as she danced for him.
David’s eye lids lowered. He did not look like a man. He was something more, something powerful, feral, and other-worldly. She felt such presence and power within him, that danger and excitement rocked her body.
He spread his legs and bucked his hips forward, there was no way she could miss the huge ridge of his arousal. David was giving her a clear signal of what he wanted. The feminist in her disliked his gesture, but her body felt differently. She looked at the god-like alpha male before her and only wanted to give him pleasure.
He growled at her seconds of inaction and that was it. She melted down onto his leg, straddling it, kneeling on either side of his thigh. With hungry sighs, she began to rub
herself back and forth on his hard muscle. Her cream dampened his pant leg, making her slides slick and smooth.
“You’re not wearing any underwear.” He spoke candidly.
“No, I’m not. This is for you.” She moved and drew circles and hearts on his body with her hips. Pushing herself forward, she placed her hands on his shoulders, grinding her pussy right over the bulge of his cock. David tilted his head back and enjoyed the feeling.
She bent forward so that the curve of her ass showed behind her and the tips of her nipples pressed against his chest. He groaned. She smiled. With a satisfaction and wonder Jenna didn’t know she had, she rubbed her body on his, working to please him, to make him want her. Her lips brushed his. She breathed on him.
David lifted one hand to her hip and pulled her body to him, locking their loins together. She could feel his expanding cock stretching through the material of his pants; its lines massaged her thighs as it reached down his leg.
She kissed him, softly, slowly. He opened his mouth for her but let her work for him. He allowed her to taste his lips and suck on them. Jenna licked his mouth and breathed him into herself. As she exhaled, she started to ride his cock with her pussy lips through his pants.
Without warning, David’s other hand grasped her waist, cradling her close. He took her upper lip into his mouth and sucked on it. At her gasp, he began to chew softly.
“Oh, David. Yes.” As if that opened the door, he lifted her quickly and easily off of him. She felt like she weighed nothing in his arms. He turned her around so that she faced away from him and he brought her back down, her pussy still on his cock, but her ass curving toward his stomach.
Jenna could not see David’s face, but she could feel his attention. With a groan of appreciation, he slid her jersey up, exposing her perfect round cheeks.
“I can’t get enough of you, Jenna. Move for me, Baby.” Jenna was desperate to be touched, but she kept on, doing what she was told to do. Her body moved to inaudible music. She churned and waved and flowed over him.
The lump in his jeans soon became too much to ignore. Jenna turned slightly, stole a quick kiss and unzipped his fly. She pulled his throbbing cock from his pants and it was so hot in her hand that she felt her palm and fingers melding around it. Her pussy burned for it, but she kept moving. She held it against her ass, splitting her cheeks over it, and completing the glove with her hand. She danced on him, stroking his member with her body.
A pulse in his shaft was her only warning before he grabbed her wickedly and pushed her up to the tip, letting her slide down wetly to the base.
“Oh my, god.” Jenna felt so full, so complete, so whole. She realized she was not a quiet sex partner. “Damn, David. You are huge. You fill me so well. Oh, god.” She trembled on him, but soon found the strength to continue her dance. With rhythmic movements of her hips, she pushed down, causing the head of his dick to scrape the wall of her vagina, while rubbing her clit on his balls. Her hands grabbed his knees and she rode him, unmercifully.
David aided her; he rose when she pushed into him and fell when she ebbed. He could see the muscle in her back pinch and flex as she contracted her ass to pull herself forward. Her shape was flawless. Round, supple flesh danced on him, sucking his dick with its movement. He couldn’t help it. It was from a place within that he wasn’t familiar with,
and had been afraid to let out, but this time he couldn’t help it. His gripped her hips, hard, and began to bounce her on his shaft.
“David. David. David! DAVID!!” Jenna’s screams grew more fierce, desperate and loud as he continued to fuck her from below. A burning started in her pussy and grew, and grew, and grew. With it, colors and lights stole her vision for a few heavenly seconds. “I’m cumming!” The fire shot up her spine from her pussy and exploded around her head. A few blessed moments of oblivion swamped her. Jenna returned to consciousness with David’s cock still rocketing into her. “Please, David. Cum for me. Cum inside me now, please.”
David felt wanted; he felt powerful; he felt natural and dangerous. He let his head fall back and flexed his hips, impaling her over and over again. “God, you’re tight. You feel so good.” The heat and friction lit his fuse and it burned within him. “Jenna, do you want it all?”
“Lord, yes,” she pleased. “Please give it to me.”
David growled as pressure built and built in his pelvis. It shattered. He sprayed cum into her each time he thrust. Six or seven times, his cock throbbed with his heartbeat shooting his seed into her pussy. Finally, he slowed and stopped, breathing heavily. His hands never left her hips.
“Oh wow, Baby. That was amazing.” Jenna loved her orgasms. They kept getting stronger with him and of course they were all better than what her hand could do. But nothing compared to the feeling of pleasing David. When he came, and she could tell how much he enjoyed it, she felt fulfilled and satiated. With a contented sigh, she rested back into his body, his cock still within her, and relaxed in his arms. She thought to herself, ‘this is what my body was created for.’
David spoke to her, and his voice was not the husky growl that only moments ago had made her wet, it was a tender, caressing tone that made her heart skip a beat. He was her sweetheart again. “Thank you, Jenna. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“No, my pleasure. How did you know, by the way? The score.”
“Well, I already got my dance so I guess there’s no harm in telling you now. Honey, you had the channel on ESPN classic. It plays important games from history. The game you played was from 1994, I watched it when I was younger. I remember it well because it was the very last time the Houston Oilers ever played Dallas.”
Jenna was both put out and amused. “DAMMIT! I can’t believe that. This isn’t fair. Why don’t they play anymore?”
“Because there are no Houston Oilers. They moved to Tennessee and became the Titans.”
“You cheater! I can’t believe you told me that cockamamie story about you being psychic just to get me to dance!” Jenna play-slapped his shoulder. “I’m going to get you back for that. Just you wait.”
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do?” “I don’t know, but it’s going to be good, god-dangit

Hunter, Sable & Hunter, Jess. (2013, June 16). Meet Sable and Jess [Blog Interview]. Retrieved from http://marysuewehr.com/2013/06/16/1626/
*Any references to contests or giveaways have expired*

Cooking with Miss Havana's Blog Post I just moved into a new apartment. There were a few spooky goings-on and it reminded of a time earlier this year when I drove down to San Antonio on business. I went last year as well and, before I left, I did my research on which hotel would be the best choice. After much deliberation and combing, I decided that the Days Inn two exits from my office building would be perfect. It had free internet and breakfast and that’s really all I could ever ask from life.
However, this year, the hotel seemed different. Of course, since my planning was so flawless last year, I felt no need to alter my sleeping arrangements, so I arrived at my Days Inn, only to be greeted by a very different feel. The sign in front read “Days Inn – San Antonio As Seen on Sci-Fi … Under New Management” I thought very little of it, since I had important issues on my mind—such as chicken bacon ranch subs and Batman—and I proceeded to park and enter the office.
Although the ambiance of the hotel felt different, it was nice. It had almost a touristy air about it. The staff was very relaxed and friendly with an odd sense of theater, as if they worked at a theme park or something instead. They reclined in the lobby eating ice cream on sticks until, having been alerted to my presence, they sprung up and got about their jobs. The front desk lady asked me about my trip and where I’m from and all of the usual banter as she took my debit card, gave me my key and told me my room number. I bade her “adios” and took off into the night to embrace my new temporary shelter.
As I approached my room, I felt an odd chill climb up my spine. I am usually terrified of sleeping in hotels alone, so I forced the feeling from my mind. I am, after all, a goddamn man, and I sauntered into my hotel room as confident as I cross most thresholds.
The room took me aback. The sheets on the bed looked like they had been tossed off as if someone just woke up. The furniture was moved around. The water was running in the bathroom. There were half-empty Dr. Pepper bottles all over the room. Assuming I had been given the key to someone else’s room, I immediately left and set off to rectify this mistake with the front desk.
I spoke to the front desk lady. “Ma’am, I do believe you gave me the key to an occupied room. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, might I be moved to a different room?”
 “Of course, Sir! I am terribly sorry. Let me take a look.”
 At the moment, some man ran over to her with an alarmed look on his face. He asked me, “Which room were you placed in?”
 “114.”
 He turned to the girl. “You know better than to put a customer in that room.”
“I’m sorry, Boss, I guess I forgot. It was the last vacant room with a single bed.”
I said, “It wasn’t vacant, there was definitely someone there.”
“No, there was not. The room is not occupied. It is haunted.” He said with an ironic degree of candidness.
“DAFUQ!” I orated eloquently.
“Yes, haunted. Robert lives there. He is our resident phantom. He is why we are famous! He is always up to mischief.”
“Does Robert like Dr. Pepper?”
“Oh yes. Robert LOVES Dr. Pepper. We have bottles go missing from shipments ALL the time.”
“I’d like a different room, please.”
“You just can’t make people happy sometimes.”
Not having noticed the attendant’s snarkiness due to my processing the ectoplasmic data dump I had fallen victim to, I walked to my new room, which, much to my chagrin, was two doors down from Robert. If he saw fit, he could merrily skip over to my room, diffuse through the door and decorate my room with fear-induced excrement that would be rocketing from my heinie.
There was good news, however. Like the girl said, Robert’s room was the last vacant single room, so my new room had two beds. If Robert DID decide to sleep over, he would have his own bed. I’ll be damned before I play big spoon to a pernicious poltergeist.
So just recently, after waking up for the first night in my brand new place, I remembered hearing the door open to my bedroom during my slumber and I guess I had dismissed it and chalked it up to the air conditioner or something similarly innocuous. But when I opened the fridge to make a protein shake for my breakfast, I saw my box of coke zeroes had been turned upside down and there were cans everywhere and some stacked up in the door.
A jolt of fear went through me and I looked around the room. There was no place for someone to break in. The windows were closed; the door was locked. All of my valuables were still where they should be. And then I thought, dammit, Robert, I don't have any Dr. Pepper.
Thank you for reading.
Here’s the link to my new book and there is an excerpt below.http://amzn.to/17E9BjKHere is my email – jesshunter247@gmail.comAnd my facebook author page. https://www.facebook.com/ForAHeroI’ve also included a little PG excerpt from my book – hope you enjoy it.
Jess-------------------------- Flames licked every wall of the once-beautiful Victorian home. The fire danced and made every hue transform into a dark orange. David knew exactly what to do. He felt more comfortable in a fire than out of one. A loud crack sounded above his head as a support beam gave way. Its heavy descent ended abruptly in the sturdy, solid palm of David’s broad hand. He effortlessly tossed it aside and continued searching the house.
Between the crackling of the burn, David’s ears caught a strangled cough. A child. Probably a young girl. He could hear her in one of the bedrooms in the back hallway. He sturdied himself. His self-contained breathing apparatus allowed him to stand tall without the smoke filling his lungs. The muscles on his back hardened, preparing to support whatever burden he was called upon to bear.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” David didn’t want to waste time searching each room. He needed to know exactly where she was.
“I’m in my room,” a tiny voiced choked out through sobs of fear. David checked, but the door was jammed. The hinges may have warped or the walls become compressed together due to the fire eating away at the studs and ceiling. Fire can kill in so many ways. 
“Step away from the door,” David shouted. With a mighty shove, he broke the door open quickly and cleanly. A lonesome young girl lay on her bed, clasping a teddy bear wearing a red ribbon, while fire ate the room around her.
“Are you ok, Sweetheart?” David asked gently. . He would have liked to stop and check her for injuries, but there just wasn’t time.
“I want my mommy. I am so scared.”
“It’s ok, Honey. I know where your mommy is. I am going to help her save you. Is it alright with you if I pick you up?”
The young lady nodded and held her arms into the air, one still holding tightly to the teddy. David gently lifted her to his chest, flexing his biceps until his arms were solid as oak. She was wrapped in armor.
David walked back the way he came, it was imperative that they leave the building as soon as possible. It might fall any moment.
The house creaked at David, warning him of the impending collapse. He lengthened his stride. She mustn’t know what danger she was in. David had made her safe now. That was his purpose.
He was too late. Just as the light of day could be seen through the front door, fire ate through the ceiling and it came crashing down, blocking their way with embrous debris. The scream of the child’s mother was muffled behind the mountain of white-hot wood, insulation and sheet rock, obstacles fire had placed in his way. Ceiling tile and a large wooden board clashed with David’s back. The plank snapped on his trapezius. He felt no pain. This was his job. However, the sound of the crash caused the child to bury her face in David’s chest. He hated her to be afraid while he held her.
He turned around. Homes like this always had another door. He marched through the kitchen, shielding the child from spark and flame. He found it. The side door. It stood near the cooking appliances and the danger of electric shock kept most of the emergency response team clear of the area. David, however, had no choice.
Without a hand to open the door, he stepped back to ready his kick.“Hold on, Honey. We’re almost there. Protect Teddy.”
A wicked snap resounded through the house and the door flew through the air into the back yard. The breeze of freedom wrapped their bodies in cold and comfort.
From the front, the snap could be heard clearly. Police held on to the woman, her screams echoing down the street. The house trembled and cracked. With a belch of smoke, her home imploded into rubble.
“NOOO!! God, no!! My baby! Why did nobody get my baby?” She screamed accusatorially at the firemen and police who stood idly watching fire steal her world from her.  The news reporters had nothing to say. The cameras just rolled on.
“The Fire Chief, David Conlon, was in the house, Ma’am. He went in after your daughter.”
“He went alone?!?! Why was he trying to save her alone!?!? Where are they?!?!”
The team hung their heads while the fire hose rained life-saving water down upon the house. It would be hours before the firemen and EMT’s could retrieve and transport the bodies from the smoldering ruins.  Despite the ruckus, a silence stole the minds of the spectators between the sobs of the mother.
At that moment, bursting forth from the cloud of smoke and water and despair, an angel walked calmly into the street, a little doll cradled in its arms. A wave of cheer and celebration erupted from the crowd. Where once there was silence and sadness, joy and hope popped like fireworks.
David handed the baby to her mother. Tears of joy streamed down her face and she petted the little girl’s face with kisses.  He peeled off his hat and mask. His black curly hair framed his face. The ash-blackened silhouette of his SCBA encircled his brilliantly blue eyes. She gasped at the beauty of the man that saved her only child.
“Thank you so much. You have no idea what you did for me today. You are my hero.” Her thankfulness welled up within her. This man was her savior. Without him, she would have said goodbye to her daughter instead of hugging her.
“Please don’t, Ma’am. It’s just my job.” David accepted the gratitude, but he did not bask in it. He did not do what he did for the “thanks.” He smiled a little smile at the woman and kissed the girl on the crown of her forehead.
Without an ounce of pride or boastfulness, he turned and walked away. The excitement faded. The police and rescue teams retreated. The mother took her child to start a new life elsewhere. Fire rested to attack another day, and David returned to his home alone. He cleansed himself of the ash, treated his wounds and waited for another chance to do the only thing on this Earth he knew how to do.
Hunter, Jess. (2013, May 25). Things That Go Bump In The Night [Blog Interview]. Retrieved from http://cookinwithmisshavana.blogspot.com/2013/05/things-that-go-bump-in-night.html
*Any Reference to contests or giveaways have expired*

ONE OF MY PASSIONS
I am passionate about fitness. Passionate is a nice word. I think about it all the time. Every decision I make, in some way, circles around the idea of fitness. If fitness were a woman, I would be a weird stalker man that is always right behind fitness, breathing heavy and sweating. 


My nutrition and workout plans have changed drastically from one to another every few months. I have done everything you can think of, the fad stuff on late night TV, the extreme stuff your in-shape sibling dares you to try, the experimental stuff you wonder how people survive, all of it.


Several of my friends and family members (Sable...) question me about how strangely addicted I am to this part of my life, and I gasp. I am amazed that most people are NOT obsessed with improving that aspect of their existence. If you have a car, the LEAST you can do is gas it up when it's empty and change the oil every 7000 miles, right? Why wouldn't you treat your body the same way?


I was most recently on a crazy plan. Well, it was crazy to someone uninitiated into that world. For me, it seemed pretty intuitive. It came from a blog called Chaos & Pain by Jamie Lewis. His eating plan, dubbed the obnoxiously masculine (just the way I like it) Apex Predator Diet, was essentially a ketogenic diet (like Atkins) that focused primarily on organic (like Paleolithic) while eating meat almost exclusively off the bone, green vegetables and ridiculous amounts of supplemented animal proteins. The workout that came with it was equally as belligerent. It was 8-12 sets of 1-3 reps of 85-95% of your one rep max. (a weight you can only lift once)


I started as I start most things, enthusiastically and loudly, bragging about it to everyone who would listen and grunting and lifting things. Sable played along and called me her "little viking" and the "baby barbarian" even though deep down, she was probably as terrified of me as anyone else would be. She was just putting on a good sister show.


But today, something happened, something that does happen to me occasionally, and I'm glad I caught it quickly before it did any real damage.


Things started to grow stale. My mood was dipping, my testosterone was sinking (I can tell by my energy and sex-drive) and I was less and less excited to go to the gym. I was finding it difficult to get my work done and getting out of bed was the most strenuous part of the day.


But, because of all the experience I have with stupidly powerful determination and stubbornly relentless discipline, I understand exactly what I needed: a change.


I went and saw a movie to clear my head. (Hangover 3) Then i got two foot-long italian style subs from New York Pizza Co., one with italian sausage and red peppers, the other with chipped beef, mozzarella, and sauteed onions. I thought, and I read, and I researched.


And now, having decided on the ABC diet, (an exciting French creation) a bodybuilder's split of 2x days of moderate rep lifting, and a trip to Jamie's blog for motivation and closure, I feel a renewed vigor and energy. I feel great, like I just downed a two-liter bottle of Coke Zero. (sponsor)


Which, I did, also.


Moral of the story: and this is for everyone, not just Sable, embrace change. I know it can be scary. Routines are our friends in many ways. But you need it. And when things get rough, or tedious, or start to drag, seek out change. Don't change your goals, never give up your ambitions, but learn to feel comfortable trying new and different roads to get there. 


Tonight, I'm doing posterior delts, rhomboids, hamstrings and forearm lifts with a triple cheeseburger and a protein shake. How about you?


Here is my email – let me hear from you – jesshunter247@gmail.com
Here’s my author page - https://www.facebook.com/ForAHero?ref=hl
And the link to my book - http://www.amazon.com/For-A-Hero-ebook/dp/B00CDAXAN4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1369518015&sr=1-1&keywords=for+a+hero
Speaking of passions, here is a passionate excerpt from my book - a sexy one.


David yawned. He was surprised that he had fallen asleep, especially since moments before Jenna had accompanied him to the room, she had been giving him clear signals of an exciting playtime to come. But somehow, he had resisted the urge to follow his rock-hard cock’s urging to tackle Jenna and do with her what nature told him to. 
He let his eyes open groggily. No need to rush. He looked around and saw the beautiful hotel room he had gotten for them. The sheets were crisp. The light of the bedside lamp was so warm, gentle and unobtrusive that nobody would have trouble sleeping next to it. He looked down beside him, expecting to see Jenna’s sultry figure tucked up close. 
She was gone. David’s eyes opened wider. Instantly he was alert. Raising his head, he saw her. Across the room was Jenna, wearing sexy black lingerie and fishnet stockings. She had a little crop in her hand in the fuzzy shape of a heart. David smiled. “What on Earth are you planning? You can’t be thinking you are going to use that on me, can you?”
“I don’t know. What are you going to do about it?” She swung it down crisply, letting it clap her toned thigh with a sensual snap. 
David leaned forward and tried to bring his hand to his face to wipe the sleep from his eyes, but it wouldn’t come. He turned his head to see that his little rascal had handcuffed his wrists to the headboard of their bed. His cheer and cockiness quickly turned into something else, entirely. “Let me go,” he said the words slowly and succinctly.
“Why should I? I get the feeling that you won’t be letting me use my toy on you if I do. I think it would be better if I kept you bound for a little while. Plus, it’s so nice to watch your arms struggle against the cuffs. It must be rough to have all that strength and not be able to do anything about it, huh?”
She strutted toward him, biting the crop with her lips turned up. She felt more confident with her play, confident enough to make a few of her own little dreams come true. 
David rattled his cage and strained against the cuffs. He was clearly uncomfortable being so helpless. Jenna saw the power grow in his face and the muscles of his shoulders. As she pulled her little outfit down far enough for perky, little tits to pop out the top, she could see something else of his growing too.
She began to crawl across the big bed toward him, crop in her teeth. Her breasts hung down below her, and their sway made a perfect swell of cleavage visible to him. As frustrated as his head was getting, his body was begging her to do what it needed her to do.
She pulled the sheets down past his chest and stomach, showing his muscle and skin. She placed the furry end of the crop on his chest and slowly drug it down his body, following the lines his musculature had drawn for her. Quickly, and without warning, she tipped it up, and brought it down hard on his nipple. 
David shook violently beneath her and she hissed with pleasure. “Did that hurt?”
“No.” He answered harshly. His jaw was clenched and his biceps were pulling on the headboard so hard that it looked like it was bending. It was a good thing the wood was so thick.
“Too bad. I guess I shall try a little harder next time.”
David’s dick was standing at complete attention, throbbing with his heartbeat. It made the bed sheet that covered it dance and wave every second. 
She brushed the tip of her small whip from David’s short sideburns down his cheek to his chest and slapped the other nipple as hard as she could. It hardened from the attention, and even though David would never admit the erotic blows stung, she could see his skin turning red from the force.
“If you do that again, so help me, I will –“
“What? You’ll do what?” Jenna interrupted him with two slaps to his stomach, leaving heart shape marks across the tight, flat expanse. If only she could have doodled like this during class, schoolwork would have been so much more fun.
David shook the bed. It clapped against the wall and made a lot of noise.
Jenna put her face next to David’s ear. “Relax, Honey. You’ll wake the neighbors. You have to be quiet while I show you my skills.” And she licked his earlobe as she pulled away.
David bared his teeth. God, she was sexy. “Skills, my ass! When I get out of this, I am going to spank you so hard that the neighbors will be complaining about your screaming instead of the bed moving.”
“That’s big talk for a man who’s shackled to the bedstead.” Jenna crinkled her nose mockingly at David as she let her eyes rove down his body toward the tent he pitched below her.


Thanks for 2reading


Jess








Hunter, Jess. (2013, May 25). Guest Post-Jess Hunter [Blog Interview]. Retrieved from http://layladarnell.blogspot.com/2013/05/guess-post-jess-hunter.html
*Any reference to contest or giveaway has expired*

Indigo’s 21 with Jess Hunter 6/5/13

Today I have my first guest of the MANLY variety!  I’m honored to have the super adorable, incredibly handsome Jess Hunter on my blog today.  You’ve maybe heard of his sister?  Sable Hunter? Well, I just adore the fun they have razzing each other, but like I said, today isALL about Jess, so let’s dive in and get to know him a little better!BIO: Jess Hunter is a New Orleans native who grew up in Austin, Texas. He attended the University of Texas with a major in Business and Communications. Jess loves to ride motorcycles, play video games and philosophize about the meaning of life. He is the brother and co-author of Sable Hunter and enjoys good food, beautiful women and sleeping-in on weekends. Jess will continue to write – not only romance, but horror, suspense and fantasy. Delve into the enigma that is Jess Hunter as he captures the purity and innocence of the hero dynamic and intertwines it with romance and love that will take your breath away. 1. Thank you so much for joining us today! Tell us a little more about yourself and your books.
My name is Jess and I write. I am Sable Hunter’s brother and we are working to make it in this big, mean, literary world together. My books are thoughtful, masculine, multilayered, and (hopefully) improving as I go along.2. What genre(s) do you write?
“For A Hero” is an erotic romance, as well will be its sequel. I have worked on several of Sable’s books with her. I have future forays planned for sci-fi, mystery, adventure, fantasy and horror.3. What was it like to see your first book published?
Surreal. It still doesn’t feel quite real. I guess technology changes things. It’s all ethereal and intangible. It is cool to see something I created out there in the world, and it is marvelous to hear that it affects people, but I probably won’t be fully in that reality until I attend a convention later this year.4. How dear to your heart is writing? Do you think you’ll continue to write for the rest of your life?
It is very dear. It is expression. It is release. It is a journey into one’s self. It is a form of meditation, of therapy, of anger management, of life-planning, of self-realization. It is one of the few, very pure forms of art left in the world. I will continue to write for the rest of my life. I believe that no person can be fully at peace in joyful progress without constantly massaging the mind through reading and writing.5. Do you ever lock up? Have those moments where you just stare at your screen and think, “Yeah…I got nothing”?
I did, once. However, time compartmentalization, Bose noise-canceling headphones, and the Brainwave app playing the “creativity” binaural frequency cleared me right up.6. How difficult is it for you to come up with ideas for your books?
Not very difficult. The ideas were there in me before the plan to write them down. I now have more ideas than I have time in which to write them.7. What about characters? Are the names and personalities difficult to develop?
The primary characters, of whom the story tells, are easy to develop, because the story is their progress. However, the nature of story-telling necessitates secondary and even tertiary characters as cogs, and those need to be incorporated smoothly. That can be challenging.8. Do you ever find yourself struggling as a writer?
I struggle to adapt to the new lifestyle. I struggle, as any newbie does, to grow and become a better writer. I struggle to convince myself that I can hang with authors like Sable and her wonderful community. I struggle to do a lot of things, but simply being a writer, is not one of them. It suits me, I believe.9. About how long does it take for you to complete a book, from concept to completion?
It took me 3 months to complete “For A Hero.” I hope that its successor will come more quickly than that.10. Do you have a ritual before, during and after finishing a book?
Time compartmentalization, again, is one of my best friends. Writing can be a very mentally-exhausting activity, so I like to give myself an hour to write two thousand words or so, and then I will work out, or watch a movie, or eat, and then repeat. It’s not a ritual, in the traditional sense, but I do plan my writing ritualistically.11. Do you have a special time or place to write?
I like to write in bed.12. Crap, I should have added ‘what do you wear when you write’, but anyway, any funny experiences or quirks you’d like to share with your readers?
Interacting with Sable is a quirky experience. I’m considering starting a blog just about my time with her. Just the other day, she said, “I am the most humble person you know. Everyone should be more like me.” You can’t make stuff like that up.13. How do you find the time to balance your writing and family life?
I don’t really have a family beside Sable. I am a bachelor. I guess I have to balance writing with my job, working out, dating, and playing video games, but I manage.14. How much down-time do you take between books? Or do you just jump right into the next?
I’d like to take a vacation, but Sable only gave me a precious few weeks before she began to hound me about seeing outlines for the next one.15. Do you have any interesting hobbies that you enjoy?
I work out twice a day, if my schedule permits. I sing recreationally. I play video games. I read. I philosophize. I just started learning Krav Maga this week. I’ll soon be able to kick everyone’s ass. I have been spending a lot of time recently getting ready for the “Man Of Steel” premiere on June 14. That will be one of the biggest events of the year for me.16. If you could visit any place in the world, where would it be?
I’ve been thinking about Costa Rica a lot lately. I hear there are still dinosaurs there. That would be awesome.17. What’s next on your agenda? Any new books in the works?
The sequel, yet unnamed, to “For A Hero,” is currently being written, while two others, one horror, and one science fiction, are being planned for this year.18. What advice would you give to others who want to make writing their career?
Live a life that would be a story worth telling. Take notes. Keep a journal. Practice telling stories. Then lock yourself away in alone time and write them down.19. What authors inspire you?
Robert Louis Stevenson, whose bouts of inspiration would crank out a classic (The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) in a weekend. Ernest Hemingway, who captured the tumultuousness of masculinity. F. Scott Fitzgerald, who found a way to put himself candidly in every work he finished. Ian Fleming, Arthur Conan Doyle, and Clive Cussler for creating memorable re-occurring characters that will live forever.20. What’s something unique about you that not many people might know?
I’m really a sweet, pure angel. I worry about Sable corrupting me with her lecherous lifestyle.21. Hmm…I’m doubting the ‘sweet, pure angel’ part a little.  Is there anything you would like to share about your writing and publishing experience that might inspire and support new and struggling writers?
Think of the funniest thing that ever happened to you. Feel the warmth as you fill yourself with that joy all over again. Then imagine how wonderful it would be to cause others to feel that same joy. Then write that story down and give it to the Universe.It’s been great getting to know you! Now, inquiring minds need to know…where can your readers stalk you?
Jess: Search Jess Hunter on facebook, and add me.  You can also ‘like’ my fan page “For a Hero”.

Sin, Indigo (2013, June 5). Indigo’s 21 with Jess Hunter 6/5/2013 [Blog Interview]. Retrieved from http://indigosin.wordpress.com/2013/06/05/indigos-21-with-jess-hunter-6513/*Any reference to contest or giveaway has expired*