Posted by: Trisha Leigh | June 8, 2011

Want My Booty? Come Play!

Okay, that blog title is pretty bad and I’m convinced ya’ll can do better. If you want to win this…



…then you have to play my game.

Yes. That’s is an Advanced Reader Copy (or ARC) of Tawna Fenske’s MAKING WAVES, set for an August 1, 2011 release. Here’s the copy from the back of the book:


Juli has trouble fitting in, though she’d prefer to keep the reasons to herself. But when she mistakingly stows away on a ship of misfit corporate castoffs, her own secrets become the least of her concerns.


But Alex isn’t feeling very normal when his unscrupulous boss kicks him to the curb after twenty faithful years. Meeting Juli doesn’t do much to restore normalcy to Alex’s life either, but it sure is exhilarating!

As Alex and Juli bare each other’s secrets – and a whole lot more – they find that while normal is nice, weird can be wonderful.

My (brief) thoughts after reading:

Tawna’s debut is as quirky, funny, and warm-hearted as she is. Also, Alex is so totally hot that I do NOT condone reading this novel (at least the last third of it) in public. Making Waves is a fun, insane tale that I wanted to be a part of as much as Juli did, and if you’re looking for something to make you laugh (while fanning yourself) make sure to pick this one up.

Now you really want it, don’t you?

Well, all you have to do is write me a little story, 150 words or less, using all of the following terms:



human ashes




These are all, of course, terms from the novel and given the kind of writer Tawna is, I challenge you all to insert as much double entendre into your answers as possible. The contest closes on Sunday, June 12th at 5pm CDT.

Also, I posted an article on yesterday detailing my suggestions for summer reads. Check it out here.

Also, you can pre-order Tawna’s book here or here. Probably other places too, but you know. Options.

What I’m watching right this minute: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (season 3)



  1. Hi Trisha,
    I thought I’d try your little contest just for fun. I hope you get lots of entries and have as much fun reading them as we contestants have writing them. My entry is titled:

    A Near Miss, then a Direct Hit

    “Now, where did I hide that engagement ring?” Dick asked himself, as he rummaged through his sports gear box like a treasure hunter diving for pirate’s booty in a sunken ship. Although panic was not a natural emotion for Dick, it was not altogether unknown to him either in times like these. Here he was popping the question in two hours, and the ring had vanished like human ashes cast off long ago into the wind.

    “What’ya looking for, honey?” asked Debbie.

    “Just an old … thing,” replied Dick, guilty as boy with his hand in the cookie jar.

    “Well, don’t worry. It’ll turn up sometime … if it’s meant to be.” Her words stung his heart like weapons of manly destruction, as if she knew the source of the shame in his eyes. Then he remembered. The Battleship game tucked in under the poker set. “Yes! It was meant to be.”

  2. Oooh, this is too fun! I can’t wait to read the entries!


  3. OK, Trisha, challenge accepted! Hope you don’t mind, but I swapped an S.

    The deck I’d swabbed gleamed about as much as dank human ashes scattered at sea. I leaned on my mop, reminded myself that battleships were designed for service not sex.

    I inhaled and grinned. She always smelled like a butter cookie. I turned, unsurprised to find her watching me. “Ma’am.” I snapped to attention.

    Her eyes raked over me, lingering once where my flag no longer flew at half-mast.

    “At ease, Ensign.” I tried but part of me insisted on saluting the Rear Admiral… or admiring her rear. Suddenly, she was in my arms, our hands and mouths fighting for control. “Drop the mop.”

    “That’s not the mop.” I moaned then pillaged her mouth like a pirate on shore leave, my hands groping her booty. Fly open, skirt hiked up, I was ready to strike when she handed me a packet and said, “Sheath your weapon.”

    I grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  4. I love challenges… and although my story is entirely different from Patty’s and “Old Dry Eyes”… i figured it was worth a go.

    He sat, staring at her cookie jar, thinking on what kind of booty lay in that coveted container. He got up to pace; ever since joining the band of pirates, he had enjoyed swinging from the mainsail to board the vessels of the rich and plunder their wares… but this lass was an extraordinary find. A baker’s daughter run away from home, she held what was rarely found on these waters. Cookies.

    Stealing a look to ensure she was sleeping, he crept quickly to her side, in an attempt to grab her jug. She was only mocking sleep, however, and as a battleship brings all its weapons to bear, she swept his feet, pulling him into a roll where he landed on his back and she sitting on his chest, pinning him. “Say hello to Papa…” as she opened the jar and poured human ashes onto his astounded face.

  5. Hopped over from Tawna’s blog and couldn’t resist the challenge. Plus, I really want to read this book. Can’t resist this fun twist on the pirate tale. Here’s my entry.

    “To think, this all started with a simple game of Battleship.”

    Sidney worried her heart rate would never return to normal. She knew her body would never be the same again.

    “You were beating me. I had to pull out my secret weapons.” Lucas could not have looked more like a pirate with new found booty. Or a child with a tasty cookie. “You ready for another game? I know I’m up for it.”

    His wiggling brows should have been corny, but Sidney found the gesture hot. Another sign she’d lost her mind. “Another round like that one and I’ll be little more than a pile of human ashes.”

    Lucas smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re surrendering already?”

    A well placed challenge. Sidney never could resist a challenge. Damn man.

    “You should know better than that.” One quick roll and she had him pinned. “Prepare to be boarded.”

  6. I want that book!!!

    Here’s my shot:

    It was Saturday night and Savannah was hard up–tired of playing strip battleship with her sometime boyfriend, she headed for the weapons show downtown. As she admired the length of a curving blade, a handsome waiter in a pirate costume offered her some rum and hors d’oeuvre. Although she was more of a Jack and coke girl, she would have gladly dunked a cookie in a glass of human ashes if he’d offered it to her in those clingy pirate trousers.
    “Are you enjoying the show?”
    “Just admiring the booty.” She replied with a lascivious grin. Savannah placed the empty glass back on the tray and slipped her business card into his palm.
    “Are you an agent?” He asked, preening in his billowy shirt.
    “I run a carpet cleaning business. Do you have any rugs that need to be shampooed?”
    “My place is all hard wood.”
    “Anything else you’d like shampooed?”

  7. I really want that darn book!

    Mom Is My Wing Man

    April’s nerves ramped up as she approached the coffee shop. Impossible to be inconspicuous with an urn full of human ashes in her arms. She promised her mom, though, and she could hardly break a death bed promise.
    She bought two coffees. She set a cup of coffee on each side of a table and put the urn in the chair in front of one, then took up residence across from the urn. A uniformed man at the next table caught her eye. Judging by the number of battleships and men with weapons about, they must be on maneuvers.
    Eying his red hair and dangling earring, she said, “You look like a pirate.”
    “I’ll show you my booty, if you show me yours,” he said. “Want a ride on my boat?”
    Why not dump mom’s ashes from his boat? “How choppy are your waves, sailor?” she asked.

  8. Can’t resist another take on the strip battleship theme:


    She stands in front of me, all fishnets and thigh-highs, strapped tit-to-toe in a sweet little pirate costume. My old battleship game is tucked under her arm. “Wanna play?”

    “Uh,” I say. A booty call in the middle of the Superbowl? But she’s so freaking hot, I might just spontaneously combust, a pile of human ashes raining down on my buffet of Doritos and fudge-striped cookies.

    Still, Dallas has the ball. “Cowboys are down, fourteen-three.”

    “Strip battleship.”

    Not sure where that came from, but I stop trying to peek around her leather mini. It’s war now. The pushup bra says her weapons outshine mine.

    “I don’t know how to play.” But the rules become apparent when I say B-10 and her shirt gets tossed aside, just like my childhood memories of the game.

    “You’re going down,” I smile.

    “Maybe.” She flicks off the TV. “But I just won.”

  9. *ahem* A Story Told in One Snippet of Dialogue:

    “Ugh. This cookie tastes like you made it from human ashes. Don’t you have any Pirate Booty? At least that’s edible…hey, what are you doing? Sit back down and finish the game…what the hell…HEY! Battleship pieces are NOT weapons! No, wait, don’t do that…gaaah!”

    (Pirate Booty is a cheddar cheezilicious snack food, for those who aren’t familiar with it.)

  10. “You did what for nookie?”

    I shook my head. “No. Not Nookie. A cookie. I shook it for a cookie.” I put my peg into the middle of to board. “A 12. The booty shake did result in nookie.”

    My sister made a gagging sound.

    “Oh, shut up. We’ve both been blessed with great asses and might as well use it to our advantage. You know my love of baked goods.”

    She raised an eye brow at me. “As a sexy pirate, I can see how you’d use your body parts as weapons. But more so to beat men – reduce them to human ashes – but for a cookie?”

    I smiled. People could say what they want about my sister and me, but they’d never describe our weekly get-togethers for Battleship as dull.

  11. The Pirate’s Code

    I’m last to arrive. As always. The other three were already on the bench with undercover wine already poured into old Starbucks cups. I grabbed mine and claimed my spot as the kids became instantly absorbed into the already ongoing game of Pirates and Princesses underneath the slide.

    “Spill it,” Rosie said as I took my first gulp.

    “The Pirate King got home early to try and plunder the booty,” I began immediately, “because he’s been complaining of how hard it is because it’s been so long…”

    “That’s what she said,” the three chorused before we all took a synchronized sip
    “…since the battleship has been boarded. Pirates get cranky without being able to bury treasure.” Knowing nods. “So, just as the old Jolly Roger was running up the flagpole and I thought he would burst into flames leaving nothing but human ashes, the whole crew swarmed on deck brandishing their little weapons.”


    “So, he had to settle for a cookie.”

    (This story idea came to be when I was having an entire conversation with another mom friend about sex and realized we had developed an entirely new language to disguise the topic from our kids.)

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