J.L. Langley
JL has been talking since she was about seven months old. To those who know her it comes as no surprise, in fact, most will tell you she hasn’t shut up since. At eighteen months, she was speaking in full sentences. Imagine if you will the surprise of her admirers when they complimented her mother on “what a cute little boy” she had and received a fierce glare from said little boy and a very loud correction of “I’m a girl!” Oddly enough, JL still finds herself saying that exact phrase thirty-some-odd years later.
Along with the motormouth, JL also displayed a very vivid imagination and artistic ability. The artist first surfaced in way of drawing and painting, then became more apparent with dance. JL was a member of the National Art Honor Society in high school and has won several regional and national titles in dance, specifically tap and jazz. In college she majored in Graphic Art, but chose to make dance her profession. She taught tap, jazz and ballet for fifteen years before settling into her career as a writer.
Today JL is a full-time writer, with over ten novels to her credit. Among her hobbies she includes reading, practicing her marksmanship (she happens to be a great shot), gardening, working out (although she despises cardio), searching for the perfect chocolate dessert (so far as she can tell ALL chocolate is perfect, but it requires more research) and arguing with her husband over who the air compressor and nail gun really belongs to (they belong to JL, although she might be willing to trade him for his new chainsaw).
She also writes under the name Jeigh Lynn
“With a hand on the back of his neck, Raleigh pulled him down until their foreheads touched. “I love you. I want to suffocate you in your sleep with your pillow sometimes, but I love you.”Steven chuckled and nipped Raleigh’s full bottom lip. “I love you too, Cony.” Running his fingers through the back of the thick black hair, Steven urged Raleigh forward. “Please don’t murder me in my sleep.” Their lips met.”
“What's first?" He took another swig. "I don't know. You're the one fucking this chicken. I'm just holding it's wings.”
“In a daze, Remi stepped up to the battered old bar, next to Rhys. "What will it be?" the bartender asked Remi. "I'll have a Jake and Coke-uh, Jack and Cock, uh-" Oh fuck. Remi stopped talking. He could actually feel his face heat with a blush. Someone shoot me.”
“He'd made a complete ninny of himself. Wentworth probably thought he'd never been kissed before. Which couldn't be farther from the truth. Colton had been kissed at least three times just last season.”
“Can I have Jake and Coke--uh, Jack and Cock”
“You psychotic little Georgia Peach.”
“Not only did I manage to accidentally meet the man I’m investigating, I managed to accidentally have sex with him.”
“...I got to chase my dream for a while, see what it's like, but this—" He stood and swept his arms wide. "This, and my family, is worth any price.”
“A thing of beauty, like an approaching storm. It was hard not to respect, even though you knew it was likely to erupt any moment.”
“I swore I'd never become some lord's brainless arm ornament and political host, but I've become far worse. I'm a glorified housekeeper and sperm donor. -from the journal of Payton Marcus Townsend.”
“- had a million things to do today; death would have to wait, -(The Tin Star)”
“So, do you clean, too?”“Hell, no!.. I’m gay ... not a damn housewife!”Everybody laughed.(The Tin Star)”
“Me, a tease? I am not. I put out...thank you very much.- Jamie Killian”