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Simple Intent, by Linda Sands
A LEGAL THRILLER based on a true story.
Available Sept 1, 2010 wherever e-books are sold.
Category Archives: secret
When Googled became a verb
The best writing places usually aren’t in your own home. Where will you get away to write this year?
The e-book and Poetry, NOT. Beware name dropping.
I was lucky enough to slip in unnoticed two summers ago to an elite and rather expensive Summer Workshop in Southampton. Okay, so I wasn’t unnoticed. I came with vodka.
And this was the thing, I have never been one of those crazed band groupies, or even someone who thinks about celebrities more than, wow, they work hard for that money, look at all the privacy they give up. Passing a well known actress on the street, I may spend more time admiring her shoes than her wrinkle-free face, and if I ever see them dining, I
…
Also posted in NY, books, news, poetry, publishing, shoes, summer, vodka, writers
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Taking Reading in Bed to a Whole New Level.
Smart asses read…
One of a few things I'm trying to not dwell on.
Here’s the backstory if you’re new here-
or if you’re like my husband who only hears the words that come after steak, beer, bed, free or panties.
I wrote a (steak) novel- actually three, but here- to minimize dwelling potential- we’re only talking about the one my agent read, liked, edited and last week pitched to a bunch of (beer) hot NYC editors.
It’s summer, so of course I have plenty to do to keep me busy (panties) during the waiting period- which I have been told can be three days, four weeks, five months, six years or somewhere short…
Also posted in books, house, sick, sleep, weird
Tagged books, impressions, words, writing
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Only in a restroom in Cusseta, Alabama.
Writers see the world… differently.
It looks kind of like this:
EVERYTHING IS, HAS, WAS, WILL OR CAN BE A STORY.
Just as everyone you meet is a potential character and every conversation you hear may be stored away for later use. Having a writer as a friend can be dangerous, partying with fellow writers fills my well. (Hello Southampton friends!)
It is so nice when people “get you,” when explanations are unnecessary and when you can experience truly witty parlay.
So, it will come as no surprise to my writing friends that I found a story in a…
This is why I speed.
Tom says it’s a testicular pleasure. And while, as a woman, I can’t quite get on board with that reason, I cannot deny the sexual reference, nor my need for speed. Maybe it’s the pleasure it brings me, when the driving fast is combined with the illegality of it. It’s like sex- but not like this kind of sex. It’s like all the best parts of sex: the power, the control, the excitement, the pleasure, the adrenaline rush, the possibility of getting caught, the newness every time, the rise in blood pressure, the release, the chance to…
What's the secret password? And "unfriending."
So, because I friend EVERYONE on Facebook, I was faced with the new problem of “unfriending” someone, actually a few someones… but I wanted to be sure they didn’t know. Repercussions and all that. So, in googling for an answer to my, “Will someone know if I unfriend them on FACEBOOK question,” I found a whole page of people asking for help in stealing passwords.
Yes. Stealing.
Passwords for email accounts, for Facebook and Myspace, for instant messenger accounts. I don’t know why I was surprised, I’m sure people hack into accounts all the time, but it seemed so creepy.…
Tagged computer, impressions, internet, technology
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A non-traditional Christmas tale, which still might have a moral.
She had been dating him since college let out for the summer. She was calling him the summer boyfriend, the guy who was friends with her girlfriend’s boyfriend, a guy her own sister used to have the hots for. Convenience and revenge made for an interesting coupling.
He repaired speedboats, played basketball and could dance- well. For those things she could forgive his moodiness, his mumbling, his desire to spend more time with the guys than her. Summer turned to Fall, and they were still an item. She went to his family functions, hung out at his house, teased…
Sometimes people get it and sometimes…
you just don’t want to go into it any more.
For the rest of you. Here’s a story.
When I was a kid, we used to have a telephone on a long long cord. We would pull it across the hallway from the kitchen to the basement door, where we would sit on the third step down and have private conversations with our boyfriends. Or for my sisters- their friends. My dad tripped over that cord a few times and made it even longer , so that there was enough slack to twist around your finger…
Anastasia wants to come to America and kill somebody.
Probably her new husband.
We all get those odd spam emails from foreign countries. They want to give us money, they want us to give them money They want to be pen pals. they want to help us save money on penis enhancing pills that we don’t even take. They want us to support wars, heal the sick and generally behave as if we are much more godly than you and I know to be true.
But this morning I had to laugh- an email from foxracer yielded this information:
Hello man my new friend!
I understand, that you do…
Tagged ads, emails, impressions
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