Welcome to my stop on the Dancing Naked in Dixie tour! I absolutely LOVED this book! I wrote a review a few months ago. So I wanted to host Lauren Clark for a guest post.
On with the show! Lauren is witty and fun so check out her guest post and try not to laugh!!
Guest Post by Lauren Clark Author of Dancing Naked in Dixie
eReader Boot Camp: Get Fit and Sexy, Fast!
Who says you can't read, get fit, and get romantic at the same time?
If you're like me, you're torn between losing those last ten pounds and reading the last ten chapters of your favorite novel. You'd rather eat cold Ramen than go for a power-walk. You prefer to start a new book than burn a few hundred calories.
Does this sound familiar? Is your spouse or partner jealous of the attention you lavish on your eReader? Does he or she try to lure you away from the screen, promising annual gym memberships, scented candles, and thick paperbacks?
Here's the good news. You don't have to choose! You can get slim, sexy, and strengthen your relationship with the help of your eReader. Here's how:
1. Strengthen: Banish upper-body jiggle by getting into the plank position while reading. Hold for thirty seconds. Repeat. Tighten chest and arm muscles by pumping out pushups (place the eReader on the floor for optimal viewing) OR...position the eReader between your knees. Reward yourself after each sit-up and read another line. Flat abs in no time!
2. Balance: Imagine yourself as an America's Next Top Model contestant and practice good posture. Place the eReader on your head and walk the "runway." (Okay, so it's your hallway) Chest out, stomach in, smooth stride. Repeat. Careful, don't let it drop! You look thinner and taller already!
3. Relay Race: With a friend, choose a book that you both can't wait to read. Take turns running or jogging around a local high school track. The person waiting gets to read the book! Incentive to finish the lap, anyone??
4. Power Walk: Listen to an audio book with your eReader. Put in those ear buds, plug in, and the miles will disappear faster than you can say "The End!"
5. Distract: Attach your eReader to anything but the refrigerator. Use Duct tape if necessary. Download the most fascinating story you can find. Now, there's no chance of leaving the eReader for a late-night snack, right?
6. Get Attention: Spouse playing it cool? Boyfriend bored? Proceed as usual, but lower the eReader to bat your eyelashes every few minutes. Or, try running the eReader along one leg and sigh. If all else fails, use the eReader to fan bare skin.
7. Touch: Grab an eBook or two on massage techniques. Read a few lines out loud in bed. Offer your sweetie a rub-down for the first ten minutes, then trade positions. It's sure to bring the two of you closer together!
8. Direct Message: With CHALK, write a suggestive, sexy message to your spouse or lover on the back of your eReader. Leave it in the bedroom propped on the pillows. See what happens!
9. Be Daring: Download the Kama Sutra or one of the bajillion other books on sex and intimacy on your eReader. Read them. Take a few notes on the step-by-step directions. Commit those to memory and try them out. You'll impress your lover just by trying something new and daring!
10. Discipline: A la Fifty Shades of Gray, there's always the option of getting physical. Give your partner a gentle tap on the derriere with your eReader. If he or she likes it, be careful, and don't break the screen!
Lauren Clark is the author of Dancing Naked in Dixie, Stay Tuned, and Center of Gravity (October 2012). She writes novels set in the Deep South; stories sprinkled with sunshine, suspense, and secrets.
Accolades for her writing include the Eric Hoffer Book Award for Commercial Fiction and the Readers Favorite Silver Award for Southern Fiction. Dancing Naked in Dixie was named a finalist in the 2012 William Faulkner Creative Writing Competition. USAToday.com recently recommended Stay Tuned as an indie published ebook.
A former TV news anchor, Lauren adores flavored coffee, local book stores, and anywhere she can stick her toes in the sand. Her big loves are her family, paying it forward, and true-blue friends. She has never broken an eReader screen.
EXCERPT # 1 - DNID
A flash of bright yellow speeds by, sending a spray of wet, gray slush. There’s a yelp of outrage, some fist-shaking, and a few choice cuss words lobbed after the taxi. I glance around the angry mob. Why is everyone in Manhattan looking for a cab?
The answer comes a moment later, when I overhear two women exchanging shrill weather reports. They’re both clutching iPhones, tapping and sliding manicured fingertips over the glossy screens.
“We’re going to get buried,” one hisses. She tucks her black cashmere wrap over her pearl choker and adjusts her Louis Vuitton clutch.
“Six to ten inches of snow before midnight,” the other confirms. Her red Chanel lips are pursed. “The whole city may shut down.”
A tap of panic hits me between the shoulder blades. If the airports close, how will I get to Atlanta? I have to get home. I have to pack. I need a taxi now.
With a surge of energy, I push through the group, balance on the curb, and wave my arms at the oncoming traffic. “Taxi! Taxi!”
In one miraculous instant, three yellow cabs pull up. With a rush of activity, people swarm the vehicles. I manage to latch onto a back door handle and yank it open. The weather-report ladies are on the other side of my taxi, deflecting dagger-looks from a pair of men who arrived a few steps too late.
The driver is honking his horn, waving us inside. “Come on, ladies,” he urges with a nasal shrill. “Meter’s running.”
“We were here first,” Chanel Lipstick calls over the roof of the cab at me. I watch as her mouth curves into a satisfied smile. Obviously, the woman always gets what she wants and is quite comfortable taking it away from someone else. This makes me angry and slightly hysterical. I say the first thing that pops into my mind.
“I-I’m sick,” I declare, making my best wide-eyed and pitiful expression. “I can’t last out here much longer.”
This announcement makes both women stop. Cashmere Wrap throws me a dubious glance. I wrack my brain for an illness. Something awful that will make them regret trying to steal my taxi. The Flu? Salmonella? Mad Cow disease?
“Athazagoritis,” I announce, shocking even myself when the words spurt out of my mouth. This gets the desired reaction. The women offer simultaneous pitying looks, almost as if they’ve been practicing.
Chanel Lipstick waves a gloved hand, acquiescing. “Get in, dear, we can ride together.”
The trip to my apartment is an exhausting exercise in humiliation. Every mile, I curse my impulsive nature, swearing on my mother’s grave that I will never lie again—even to strangers who are mean to me—blizzard conditions or not.
The two women rapid-fire questions at me like I’m the subject of an FBI investigation. How did I learn that I had this illness? When? How many treatments do I have to have? Does it make me very sick? For how many days? Who is helping me at home?
I stutter through answers, wanting to smack my own forehead for ever saying it. Of course, Athazagoritis isn’t real. The word popped into my head because Marietta’s forever teasing me about being so scattered and missing appointments. She says Athazagoraphobia—fear of forgetting—might actually be a good thing for me.
Cashmere Wrap presses gloved fingertips to her rouged cheek. “Is it terrible?”
I think fast. “It’s somewhat rare,” I say, darting my eyes toward the snow-covered sidewalks, wishing I could jump out. “I’m able to work, but I get really tired.”
“Oh, you poor dear,” Chanel Lipstick says. “A career girl. What is it that you do?”
“I’m a writer for Getaways,” I admit, relieved that I don’t have to fib about that part.
“The travel magazine? How glamorous,” Cashmere Wrap purrs. “I hope you get your strength back. You’re so young. I would never have guessed you were ill.”
“Thank you,” I whisper and sink lower in the seat.
Then, the taxi stops and the driver announces my address and the fare. Thank goodness. I’ve managed to answer everything, every single question. Now I can get out of here. I reach for the door handle, lift, and swing one foot out onto the street.
Chanel Lipstick presses a hand on my arm. She’s holding on, and I’m not sure she’ll let go. “Oh, my dear,” Chanel Lipstick whispers. “I have to know. Is there any cure?”
Lauren Clark writes contemporary novels set in the Deep South; stories sprinkled with sunshine, suspense, and secrets. She is the author of Stay Tuned, Dancing Naked in Dixie, and Center of Gravity (October 2012).
A former TV news anchor, Lauren adores flavored coffee, local book stores, and anywhere she can stick her toes in the sand. Her big loves are her family, paying it forward, and true-blue friends. Check out her website at www.laurenclarkbooks.com. You can also find Lauren on GoodReads, Twitter, and Facebook.
Smart, Sassy Fiction with a Southern Twist
Other stops on the tour:
Sept 10 Forget The Housework, I'm Reading Guest Post/Excerpt
Sept 11 Chick Lit Reviews And News- Review/Author Interview
Sept 12 Nette's Bookshelf Excerpt/Guest Post
Sept 15 Chick Lit & WIne Review
Sept 16 The Thoughts Of A Girl, Review/Excerpt
Sept 17 Library Mosaic Excerpt
Sept 18 Desperado Penguin Review
Sept 19 Captivated Reading Excerpt
Sept 20 WV Stitcher Review
Sept 21 Kritters Ramblings Review/Author Interview
Sept 22 Steph The Book Worm Review
Sept 23 Aria's Dark Muse Review
Sept 24 Amy's Booket List Review
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