Crawling Into Bed With Ivy Bateman
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And a Good Book "Baby, You're Cold Inside"
Important things first, are these sheets silk or cotton?
Oh dear...these are, what would you call them...technically I suppose they are flannel, but very worn cotton flannel. I'm a twister and a shaker in the sack. And by that I mean when I'm sleeping. Don't be rude Lee. I'm very twitchy, and have trouble staying comfortable in one position for long and therefore I tend to wear my sheets down to threadbare rather quickly.
What are you wearing?
I'm wearing a saucy combo of a long sleeved shirt and flannel Jammie pants that are about 3 sizes too big. They're hot and I mean that literally. Every night, at some point, I rip these bad boys off...or at least I think I take them off...perhaps that's the doing of Someone else...
What are we snacking on in bed while we read tonight?
Kettle chips with extra grease and extra salt and a side of extra dark chocolate. Oh, don't worry about your hand's Lee; just wipe the off this towel...I have beside the bed (blush) for no particular reason... but try not to get crumbs in the bed. Someone I know gets very testy about sleeping on crumbs.
If I open this nightstand drawer, what will I find?
Chaos of epic proportions! Guards for my wrists (sexy I know...and cumbersome which is why I wonder how on earth I manage to get my pants off every night while wearing these things!), spare ear plugs ( I hate my beauty sleep being interrupted even a little), pens, paper, journals that should be full of thoughts, woes and great prose but instead have lists of things I should do or calculations about what bills I should pay and when, and many empty jars of things...
Do you roll up in the blankets like a burrito, or kick the covers off during the night?
I start out all cozy but that is usually followed by kicking the covers off with wild abandon at some point during the night and later, when I'm deeply unconscious, I apparently feel the need to pull all the covers over to my side leaving Someone with a corner of the blanket. I tell you, sleeping is an adventure.
Can I put my cold feet on your calves to warm them up?
Not unless you'd like a swift kick to the nether regions. :) Sorry! It's just how I roll. Plus it would not be an easy thing to do. You'd have to get past my barrier of pillows in order to even find my legs.
What are we reading?
Why, look at that! We're reading my latest book Baby, You're Cold Inside!
Excerpt:
"Oh yes, my dear, just a little bit further...come on honey...just bend over a little further. Come on now—just a little bit lower, that's it." I bite my lip to keep from screaming. "That's right keep it up, keep it up...I'm so close, yes, baby keep it up—no, no, no! Not now!"
I lean over my desk and punch the intercom. "Phillip! Get your ass in here now!"
He doesn't respond to my holler. Maybe he has the volume turned down. He's done that before, the bad boy, trying to ignore me. What kind of assistant does that to his boss? One that doesn't last that long, that's who.
I punch the intercom button again, harder even though it won't make a difference, but I'm desperate and my buzz is quickly fading away.
"Phillip! Don't ignore me! I need to see you in my office now!"
Again, he isn't doing anything! Okay that's not true. He's still doing something. He is still filing and bending over, which is a marvel to behold, but his moves are being wasted! I open my desk drawer and pull out a squishy ball. I chuck it at the mirrored glass that stands approximately twenty feet from the front of my desk. Phillip jumps and screams like a girl. He glances at the mirrored glass looking slightly shamefaced. He can't see me, but he knows I can see him. Wow, he's a good looking guy...who isn't moving!
My morning good time feeling is being quickly defeated by the anger that is starting to build up in my system. I throw a second ball against the glass. Another girlish scream erupts from Phillip, but this time he springs into action. He hot foots it to my door and opens it at top speed. He's breathless and nervous which is perfect; it's the way I like my men.
"Yes, Ms. Sinclair? Is there something I can help you with?" He runs a hand through his shiny brown hair and steps into my office.
"No, Phillip, I just like to throw things at my wall to hear you squeal. Thank you for being so obliging." I am sarcastic to the point of it being farcical, but my lovely yet sometimes a little dim assistant doesn't pick up on it even a little.
"Oh, that's fine, Ms. Sinclair. I-I-I like to squeal for you." He blushes and looks at his large, polished shoes. "I'll go back to my desk and listen for another ball. Thank you for making me aware that you like my noises." He backs toward the door, his face now the shade of a ripe tomato. It's adorable, but I don't have time for adorable.
Baby, You're Cold Inside is my third book with Breathless Press.My first release with Breathless Press, Between the Lines, was released in January, 2012. This was followed by The Fifth Story in September, 2012.
Breathless Press Website: http://www.breathlesspress.com/
I have a blog. To see what's going on in her world and follow along with her musings go to: http://ivybmisbehavin.blogspot.com/
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Thank-you so much Lee for joining me in my bed. Now get out before Someone gets home and throws you out in the snow!
