Today I have my very last Pricked Party guest. I can’t believe July is almost over! Without further ado, here is the lovely Jayne Kingston…
Thanks so much for having me on your blog today, Sidney! I appreciate the opportunity to share a little about Ink Lust, my contribution to the smokin’ hot Pricked series Ellora’s Cave released this month, and to talk about my love of tattoos.
To say that I’m something of a late bloomer is a gross understatement. Despite that fact that I have always been fascinated with tattoos, tattooed people and the art itself—although it sadly isn’t art at all in way too many cases… but I’ll save that rant for my own blog—I was the ripe old age of twenty-seven before I got my first. And that little guy was twelve years in the making.
It was a little green snake wrapped around a little red heart that I doodled when I was fifteen. I was seventeen when I got the idea to get it low and off to one side of my lower back after watching the James Bond movie Octopussy with my then boyfriend. Cut to ten years, one marriage and three kids later, and I was ready to go!
My first tattoo artist was a guy a friend of mine dated for a summer when she was a teenager. She wanted me to go first to make sure he was good before she sat in his chair. (Nice, right?) I’m happy to say he’s beyond good, and not just because he didn’t roll his eyes at me when I handed him that somewhat tattered square of yellow legal paper proudly displaying my little doodle.
It took forty-five minutes from start to finish, and I was in love. Not with the artists—although he is a hottie—but with the little green and red doodle that has been a permanent part of me from that moment. I showed it to everyone but my father. I spent too much time with my butt propped on the bathroom sink admiring it. I would giggle to myself in dressing rooms when it would catch my eye as I was trying on clothes.
More than that… I was hooked!! I wanted more.
I’ve been to my first artist twice since then, both times for progressively bigger and more detailed work that I LOVE! I’ve sat for two more artists since then—one I shouldn’t have because I knew better going into it, and one I should have started going to a LOT sooner.
Do I regret any of my tattoos? Only one that got no farther than an outline on my hip, and I can either cover it or *gulp* have it removed. Will I do it more, even though I’m rolling well into my forties? You bet I will. How else am I going to be the most colorful granny on the block?
What’s your tattoo story? Do yours have significant meaning? Were they spur of the moment or well planned out in advance? Any you’d like to get but haven’t so far? I’d love to hear your story.
Leni Brewster should have been disappointed when her twin sister had to bail on holding her hand during her first tattoo, but going to her appointment solo means time alone with the sexy-as-hell tattoo artist who falls into the Do Not Touch category two-fold.
Only Jamie Rodriguez isn’t as off-limits as Leni thinks. Privately single for months, Jamie finds himself more than looking forward to having the hot little librarian in his chair. And when she accidentally reveals a naughty secret about herself, he can’t get his hands on her fast enough—he has to know what else she’s hiding under that buttoned-up exterior of hers.
What he discovers sets his blood to boiling, igniting a burning determination to test every single one of the boundaries, both personal and physical, she’s set for herself.
“You ready for me?”
Leni looked up at well over six feet of lean, muscled and tattooed man, bit the inside of her bottom lip and thought, More than you’ll ever know, buddy.
“You bet,” she answered, giving Jamie her sweetest smile as she sent the text she’d been writing to her sister, tucked her phone into her purse and stood.
“Are we still going with the ribcage?” he asked, leading her out of the tattoo shop’s busy waiting area and through the hall to his room at the back of the building. “It’s a tough spot for even the most seasoned aficionado. You think you can hang getting it there your first time out?”
She caught the small smirk on that beautiful mouth of his, the glint in his mossy green eyes. He was fucking with her.
“You calling me a wimp?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
“All right.” He shook his head, his tone dripping skepticism. He stepped aside and swept his arm through the open door to his room, motioning for her to go first. “We’ll find out what you’re made of when it gets down to it. Are you all right with me locking the door so no one walks in on us?”
“Please do.” She nodded and felt the first shiver of nerves. Whether it was from the long hours she had ahead of her in the chair or being locked in a room with a man she’d started fantasizing about long before her love life went to hell, she couldn’t be sure.
Jamie Rodriguez was off limits. Way off limits.
Leni lived by the rule “you don’t do your ex’s friends or your friends’ exes,” and Jamie fell woefully into the category of the former. Which was a big, big shame. Just the sight of him made her feel all warm and gooey inside.
She loved the contrast of his purposely mussed black hair and olive skin with his deep green eyes. More rugged than outright handsome, he had an edgy look that intimidated some people, and with good reason. He’d more than earned his reputation for being tough when the situation called for it, but he was also the kind of guy who’d do anything for the people he held closest to his heart.
On top of that, he had a warm, wide, readily available smile that was absolutely breathtaking. Factor in his tall, athletic frame, arms tattooed to the wrist on both sides—she had no idea how far they went under his shirt as she’d sadly never seen him without one—and the man was sex on two very long legs.
Ellora’s Cave: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10125-ink-lust.aspx
Jayne Kingston is a fledgling erotic romance author. She loves telling stories about people with a lust for life in pursuit of love hereafter. You can find her all over the internet, starting with her website: www.jaynekingston.com. See you there!