Game of Thrones’s Emilia Clarke tells her journey with brain injury. It will break your heart.

Emilia Clarke Charity

If you feel you need yet another reason to admire actress Emilia Clarke, here it is. In this very person essay that runs in The New Yorker, she recounts her near-death experiences with two aneurysms—all while filming Game of Thrones.

Her candor is refreshing. Her response to her injuries—the creation of Same You, a foundation that raises money for treatment of others who are recovering from brain injuries and stroke—is nothing less than you'd expect from a woman who is the queen of so many hearts.

—Josie

Getting to know the artists. In this case, the Sirens: Andree Belle and Molly Miller

 

Fabulous little video about one of my favorite musical duos, the Sirens,
featuring Andrèe Belle and Molly Miller.

If you're in Los Angeles, you can catch them at the Hotel Casa Madrona (Santa Monica) and Perch (Downtown LA). Call for dates and times.

Their music is filled with heart, soul…and mambo! Check out what they have to say about it.

–Josie

My guess is that she’s reading Pride and Prejudice…

Keira-knightly-as-elizabeth-bennett

 

Or maybe "The Housewife Assassin's Handbook."

I'll go with the latter.

–Josie

From "Pride and Prejudice, the Musical"

Music and Lyrics by Rita Abrams; Libretto by Josie Brown

The song: 

Bingley_2#3: IT IS A TRUTH (Complete Song)
(Sung by Bingley, Darcy and Caroline)

 Darcy and Bingley banter about the pressures on single men–particularly wealthy single men–to marry.  But while Darcy is disgusted by it, Bingley's attitude is more benign–perhaps because he is already in the throes of enchantment with one of the local beauties, Jane Bennet.

 

_________________________________

 

 


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THE HOUSEWIFE ASSASSIN'S HANDBOOK
978-0-9740214-0-9

FREE! 
ORDER NOW,  from

Amazon.com (US)  / Amazon.UK 
Also in all Amazon countries!

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“I don’t mind living in a man’s world…”

Marilyn-monroe-reading

 

"…as long as I can be a woman in it."

— Marilyn Monroe

 

____________________________

 

 

HA1 Handbook 768x1024

THE HOUSEWIFE ASSASSIN'S HANDBOOK
Murder. Suspense. Sex. 
And some handy household tips.

978-0-9740214-0-9

FREE! 
ORDER NOW,  from

Amazon.com (US)  / Amazon.UK 
Also in all Amazon countries!

BN.com (99 cents)

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The Almost Marilyn Monroe, Almost Naked

Dixie and Marilyn

The renowned burlesque dancer, Dixie Evans, died this weekend. She was known as burlesque's "Marilyn Monroe." Yes, the resemblance was uncanny! See for yourself.  Here's how she built her act.

Take it off, take it all off,

— Josie

August 10, 2013

Dixie Evans, Who Brought ‘Monroe’ to Burlesque Houses, Dies at 86

By MARGALIT FOX / New York Times

Dixie Evans, a popular stage performer billed as the “Marilyn Monroe of Burlesque” — the first two words in very large letters and the last two in very small ones — died on Aug. 3 in Las Vegas. She was 86.

Her death was announced on the Web site of the Burlesque Hall of Fame in Las Vegas, of which she was a former curator and director.

Ms. Evans was a marquee name at midcentury, mentioned in the same avid breath as Gypsy Rose Lee, Sally Rand and Lili St. Cyr. In later years, she was featured in newspaper articles and television programs about burlesque and appeared in the 2010 documentary “Behind the Burly Q.”

She was profiled in the 1996 book “Holding On: Dreamers, Visionaries, Eccentrics, and Other American Heroes,” by David Isay, with photographs by Harvey Wang.

Reflecting on her unlikely stardom in a 1992 interview with CNN, Ms. Evans said, “I was not that talented and I wasn’t that pretty.”

But her close-enough resemblance to Monroe — enhanced by a peroxide blond coiffure and the uncanny ability of Ms. Evans, who never met her subject, to mimic her speech and shimmy — ensured her success as a locus of transference.

“If you couldn’t meet the real Marilyn,” Ms. Evans told The New York Times in 1998, “you could come to the burlesque and meet me.”

Night after night from the early ’50s onward, at burlesque houses around the country, Ms. Evans took the stage in Monrovian garb and swung into musical numbers that recalled those in Monroe’s films. Unlike Monroe, she ended the numbers far more lightly attired than when she began.

She kept the act going for more than a decade, modifying it enough to mollify Monroe, who at once point threatened to sue. Wherever she played, she drew a devoted, even rarefied, following.

“Walter Cronkite used to come every year to see my act,” Ms. Evans told The Los Angeles Times in 1993.

Frank Sinatra was said to be a fan. So, too, was Joe DiMaggio, who was reported to have visited the show for consolation after his divorce from Monroe in 1954.

Then, in 1962, Monroe’s suicide rendered the act obsolete overnight. As Ms. Evans told The San Francisco Chronicle in 2002, “When she died, I died.”

She held a string of jobs, doing public relations for a hotel in the Bahamas and working as a nurse’s aide in California, before an abandoned goat ranch in a dusty Western town afforded her an improbable return to burlesque’s glittering glory.

 

Mary Lee Evans was born on Aug. 28, 1926, in Long Beach, Calif., to a well-to-do family. Her father, an oilman, died when she was a girl, and the family fortunes declined precipitously. Young Mary worked in the celery fields and during World War II was an airplane mechanic.

 

Dreaming of stardom, she began her stage career as a chorus girl in touring musicals. One night, in her late teens or early 20s, she found herself stranded in San Francisco between jobs with 50 cents in her pocket. She discovered that the local burlesque theater paid four times what she had been earning.

 

A few years later, when Ms. Evans was performing at a Minsky’s burlesque house in Newark, Harold Minsky, the son of the impresario Abraham Minsky, transformed her into Marilyn.

In the late 1980s, Ms. Evans learned that her friend Jennie Lee, a retired burlesque star, was terminally ill with cancer. Ms. Lee, who was living on a former goat ranch in the desert in Helendale, Calif., had created a de facto museum there from her old memorabilia.

Ms. Evans moved in to help care for her, assuming responsibility for the collection after Ms. Lee’s death in 1990. She expanded it into the Exotic World Burlesque Museum and Striptease Hall of Fame, whose holdings included Jennie Lee’s silver-sequined pasties, Gypsy Rose Lee’s wardrobe trunk, the cremated remains of the burlesque queen Sheri Champagne and — perhaps the collection’s most curious artifact — a photograph of Lili St. Cyr with Eleanor Roosevelt.

In 1991, Ms. Evans founded the Miss Exotic World pageant, an annual competition she liked to call the Olympics of burlesque.

In 2006 Ms. Evans moved the competition and the museum, now known as the Burlesque Hall of Fame, to Las Vegas, where she made her home from then on.

 

Ms. Evans’s marriage to Harry Braelow, a prizefighter, ended in divorce. Survivors include a sister, Betty, and many nieces and nephews.

For years in the 1950s, Ms. Evans was a fixture at the Place Pigalle, a burlesque house in Miami Beach. One night, she was arrested.

“Whenever it was election time in Miami, they’d raid the strip joints,” she told The Los Angeles Times in 2009. “I told the judge, ‘Your Honor, this is the same act you saw at the policemen’s show.’ ”

His Honor dropped the charges.

This article has been revised to reflect the following correction:

Correction: August 11, 2013

An earlier version of this obituary omitted a survivor, Ms. Evans’s sister, Betty.

(c) 2013 New York Times


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Fabulous! The movie trailer for Woody Allen’s latest, “Blue Jasmine”, starring Cate Blanchett

 

I'm a total Woody Allen fan, and even had a Woody sighting myself, when he was filming his latest flick, "Blue Jasmine," here in San Francisco.

I think the trailer looks great. I love seeing all the San Francisco/Marin County shots, including a scene on the Muni F Line (the 1947 Philadelphia trolley car); several locales in Belvedere, California, across the Golden Gate Bridge; the bar, Aub ZamZam, in the Haight; Market Street; Geary Street; the Sunset District–

And of course, Ocean Beach.  

Hey, even the quaint Mount-Tam-hugging  town, Larkspur, California got into the picture.

And Cate Blanchett looks sublime, doing her "StreetCar Named Desire"-esque Blanche Dubois routine on her sister (played by British "Happy Go Lucky" wonder girl, Sally Hawkins).

It's a wonderfully updated take on that Tennessee Williams classic.

I love it that Alec Baldwin is Woody's new Every Patrician.

Definitely worth checking out, for the eye candy alone.

Because we always rely on the kindness of strangers (and no one is stranger to us than family),

–Josie

 


The-Candidate-Final4
THE CANDIDATE

Signal Press – eBook

Buy it NOW, on Amazon.com!

In all online bookstores June 15, 2013!

Seduction and intrigue are rampant on the campaign trail when a political campaign adviser discovers that Washington's power broker elite have embroiled his presidential candidate in a plot involving an act of terrorism on US soil…

SYNOPSIS

Democratic political campaign consultant Ben Brinker can’t remember the last time he was excited by a candidate’s vision. He feels he’s lost his way, both emotionally and professionally. Worst yet, his show-me-the-money policy seems to have finally caught up with him. Two of his recent clients have been disgraced in one way or another: a senator is caught in lurid sex scandal, and a congressman is indicted in a kickback scandal. In no time at all the political pundits are calling Ben a "candidate cooler." Now Ben is desperate for any campaign gig he can get.

As luck would have it, Andrew Harris Mansfield, the charismatic junior senator from North Carolina  and former Marine pilot, asks Ben if he wants to run his soon-to-be-announced campaign for president.

Little does Ben know what's in store for Andrew, or their country–

Nor does he realize that the key to saving both have been placed in his hands.

Read an excerpt here…

Enter THE CANDIDATE'S Contest for a $100 Gift Card!

 

Andree Belle’s “Serial Monogamist” has a Mad Men feel to it, dontcha think?


MadMenWomen
Of course, none of the women of
Mad Men (January Jones' Betty, Christina Hendricks' Joan, and Elisabeth Moss' Peggy) are serial monogamists. They may have started out that way, but life and loss made them jaded, when it came to love.

The chords — and the percussion, too — of the song "Serial Monogamist," by Andree Belle, reminds me of the kind of music coming out of the 1960s, with that smoky vamp-and-dance jazz-salsa feel to it. Don't you agree?

 

Enjoy, 

— Josie

 

 

Okay, here were my favorite Oscars dresses…

 
Sexiest-Dresses-Oscars-2013

So many dresses, so little time to review every fold, hue, cut, and designer
making us ooooh and ahhhh during Sunday's Oscars 2013 presentation…

But I'll try my best. Okay, here were my favorites:

Halle Berry in a glitzy Marchesa gown…

Jessica Chastain in a copper, Art Deco-inspired gown by Armani Privé…

And  Naomi Watts is also in an Armani Privé gown,
in a glitzy silver with an intriguing cut-out.

 

Also…

Amy-adams-vanity-fair-oscars-party-2013-03

Amy Adams in gray fringed Oscar de la Renta…

 

Charlize2

 

Charlize Theron wore a peplum-waisted Dior Haute Couture gown…

 

JLaw

And Jennifer Lawrence's Dior Haute Couture
pink blush gown, with voluminous train.

 

All beautiful, don't you think?

 

I'm soooo inspired, I'm off to get my own little princess a gown!

 

— Josie

 

Olivia Luccardi has been added to the cast of NBC’s Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives

Secret Lives ahb This just in, from The Hollywood Reporter! Another new castmember has been added to the NBC drama, based on my novel, Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives. (I know my son will ask me to set him up with her…Hey, I'm just the writer of the original material. He'll have to go to someone with "producer" in their title…)

Click here to order the book, on Amazon…

–Josie

 

Olivia Luccardi has joined the Jerry Bruckheimer-produced project starring James Tupper and Martin Henderson.

Olivia Luccardi Headshot - P 2012
Olivia Luccardi

NBC's The Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives is welcoming a newcomer to the mix.

The Jerry Bruckheimer-produced drama pilot has added newcomer Olivia Luccardi to the main cast, The Hollywood Reporter has learned exclusively.

Based on the Josie Brown book, the project is described as a thriller/dramatic soap about the lingering aftermath of a murder. Luccardi will play India Deaver, the angry and uncommunicative daughter of Danielle (Perrey Reeves) and Richard Deaver (James Tupper). Martin Hendersonand Jesse L. Martin will co-star.

Husbands and Wives marked Luccardi's first pilot audition ever.

From Warner Bros. Television, Bruckheimer will executive produce alongside Sascha Penn, Jonathan Littman and KristieAnne Reed. Penn will write the pilot.

Luccardi, repped by One Entertainment, will guest star in a season two episode of HBO's Girls when it returns Jan. 13. Her previous credits consist of two short films.

E-mail: Philiana.Ng@thr.com
Twitter: @insidethetube

 

You can’t just be beautiful. You have to be smart, too. Great example: Grace Kelly.

Grace Kelly reading

 

No doubt about it: reading looks fabulous on everybody.

— Josie


HAH New-Blue Book AHBThe Housewife Assassin's Handbook
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SECRET LIVES TV Show — Jesse L. Martin Added to the Cast

I'm so glad to hear Jesse L. Martin has been added to the cast of the TV show based on my novel Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives, since I love him on SMASH. Check it out in Deadline Hollywood.

— Josie

 

Nellie Andreeva Jesse L. Martin To Star In NBC’s ‘Secret Lives Of Husbands & Wives’ Pilot

Law & Order alum Jesse L. Martin is set to star opposite Martin Hendersonin the Jerry Bruckheimer-producedNBC drama pilot The Secret Lives Of Husbands And WivesIt is described as thriller-dramatic soap that centers on a murder and the secrets and lies within a tightly woven group of three suburban couples and their families exposed in its aftermath.

JesseMartin__120914173927Martin will play half of one of the couples, Greg Cooke, a perpetual frat boy and former hedge fund manager whose faltering finances force him into partnering with an unsavory business associate. Also starring in the pilot are Perrey Reeves and Nicole Ari Parker. Martin, repped by ICM Partners and manager Bob McGowan, is recurring on NBC’s Smash this season, and he signed on do the pilot after the schedules for the two NBC projects could be worked out. Helping the matter is the fact that both Smash and Secret Lives are shooting in New York.

Another super fabulous actress has been cast in SECRET LIVES OF HUSBANDS AND WIVES!

Yes, I am BESIDE myself! Last week word went out that another super-fantastic actress will be starring in the NBC television show based on my book, Secret Lives of Husbands and Wives: Nicole Ari Parker has starred on Broadway as well as films and television. Here's the deelio:

Nellie AndreevaNicole Ari Parker Cast In ‘Secret Lives’ NBC Pilot

EXCLUSIVE: Nicole Ari Parker has been cast as one of the leads in the Jerry Bruckheimer-produced NBC drama pilot The Secret Lives Of Husbands And WivesIt is described as thriller-dramatic soap that centers on a murder and the secrets and lies within a tightly woven group of three suburban couples and their families exposed in its aftermath. Parker will play half of one of the three couples, Paula, a tough and strikingly beautiful trophy wife who, after 12 years of a troubled marriage, questions whether to stay with her husband because of love or respect… all while having no idea that he is financially ruined. She joins Perret Reeves, recently cast as another wife. Parker, repped by Gersh and KLWGN, is coming off a full Broadway run of A Streetcar Named Desireopposite Blair Underwood.

 

What Not to get Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds as a Wedding Gift

LivelyReynolds
I love celebrity marriages! They give us something to aspire to: dreamboat spouses, fancy affairs of the heart, and  a chance to beat Vegas odds as to whether yet another Hollywood marriage will go to the wayside, and if so, how long it will take to implode.

From what I read in People Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds seem fairly grounded, having had their fair share at hard knocks, both personally and professionally. (And you know how I believe everything I read!)

That said, I'd like to propose a toast to their living happily ever after. And for you who feel compelled to help these lovebirds get off to a great start on feathering their joint nest, I'd like to suggest you skip any of thes following as wedding gifts:

+Coleman+2Mantle+Lantern+Green

 1. A green lantern.
Yes, they met on the set of the movie. However, I presume that other than that, neither views this joint project the pinnacle of their careers, therefore a household or garden accessory that subliminally suggests otherwise may not get you invited to the frequent dinner parties they are sure to hold in their new abode in Bedford, New York.

 

 


220px-Titanic_poster 2. A DVD of Titanic.
No doubt, anything that reminds Blake of the Leonardo DiCaprio she loved as a teen won't be welcomed in their home. You'll never want it said that you broke them up, now would you?

 

 

 

 

 


Pearl-earring-Johannson3. For that matter, forego DVDs of Girl with a Pearl Earring, and Match Point as well.

I have a feeling the way the camera caresses Ryan's ex-wife Scarlett Johansson would not appeal to Blake.

Makes me wonder: are you better off with a great marriage and less of a screen career, or a great screen career and fleeting relationships? Or does a Hollywood career mean you'll forego your own "happily ever after"?

I wish the happy couple both. But if I were to say which was more satisfying I'd say the former.

Here's hoping they can have their wedding cake, and eat it, too.

 

— Josie



Guide-to-Gracious-Killing (2) AHBThe Housewife Assassin's
Guide to Gracious Kil
ling

 In bookstores on September 30, 2012!

In the meantime, order Book 1,
The Housewife Assassin's Handbook

Murder. Suspense. Sex. And some handy household tips.

Read an excerpt here… 

In the US, just $2.99:

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or a gift certificate to your favorite bookstore!
Details to follow, by September 30, 2012,
with the launch of my new book!

Stranger than Fiction! Prince Harry Displays the Crown Jewels

Harry-walk-of-shameSometimes fate just plays into one's hand.

My opening scene for The Housewife Assassin's Guide to Gracious Killing, (the second in my Housewife Assassin series, to be released on September 30, 2012) starts out with my heroine, Donna Stone*, foiling a plot on Prince Harry's life while he's in San Diego, celebrating the completion of his Apache helicopter training.

I've excerpted it here, below.

Well, whattaya know? Just the other day, Harry gets caught with his pants down (in truth, off, along with everything else) while partying in Las Vegas. He was there for a charity fundraiser for the air force base on which he trained.

It's almost as if Handsome Harry, the cheeky sod, said, "That Josie Brown is a sweet bird. Why don't I give her a leg up on the sale of her new book, let her readers sneak a peek of what they're in for?"

A peek indeed!

As these pictures show, which were first released on TMZ.com, he's got a lot to offer some fine lass…

But I'm glad to see he's holding tight to the crown jewels.

You just can't buy this kind of publicity.

–Josie

Read this excerpt of
The Housewife Assassin's Guide to Gracious Killing,
in bookstores on September 8, 2012.

 

 


HAH-Hanging-Man-New-BlueIn the meantime, order Book 1,
The Housewife Assassin's Handbook
Murder. Suspense. Sex. And some handy household tips.

In the US, just $2.99:

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"This is a super sexy and fun read that you shouldn't miss!"
–Mary Jacobs, Bookhounds

 _____________________________________________

The Housewife Assassin's Guide to Gracious Killing

Chapter 1: Breaking Bad Hostessing Habits

Every woman wants to be the perfect hostess, and frets over
her inadequacies when it comes to the gracious art of entertaining.  Pshaw! A little forethought and a few hours
of  planning makes it easy as cherry pie!

There is, however, one ironclad rule that every hostess must
follow: make all your guests wish they’d never have to leave.

Especially in a coffin. With a bullet lodged in their heads.

 

Harry Happy Hour“You’re quite a saucy
minx!” Prince Harry’s  ale-slurred
come-on can barely be heard over the techno-vibe emanating from a
starship-worthy console of  the Ivy
Lounge rooftop’s head-bobbing deejay. 
“What say you give me a peek as to where that tattoo ends?”

His head is cocked
downward, as if it might give him the ex-ray vision he’ll need in order to see
the rattle on the faux-tatt’ed snake drawn from my belly, which ends
somewhere  in the nether regions that lay
under my thong bikini.

“You’re a cheeky sod. I
do have a face, you know.” I snap my fingers in front of his nose in order to
draw his eyes northward.

I’ve succeeded, sort
of.  But come on, already: the diplomacy
born and bred into the Prince of Wales can’t beat two millennia of innate urges
and four pints of Guinness.

His eyes linger below my
neck, albeit above my abdomen.

When, finally, our eyes
meet, I lean in and whisper, “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

I’m lying, even if he
doesn’t know it—yet.

His outright laugh is
accompanied with a shake of his head, and a tug at the waistline of his briefs.
“Nothing under these trollies, I’m afraid. Sorry to disappoint.”

I finger his briefs
longingly, then sigh. “I’m sure you’ll make it up to me somehow.”

His smile is his vow not
to disappoint.

God save the queen…

It’s no secret the prince
has been stateside with his Royal Air Force unit, learning the latest tricks
and treats of the AH-64D Apache helicopter: his vehicle of choice for his
upcoming tour of duty in Afghanistan. Tomorrow the soldiers complete their
training and head home. To celebrate, the soldiers are here, in San Diego,
which is just a couple of hours west of their training base, the Naval Air
Facility at El Centro.

Seems some chatter,
intercepted by MI-6, has led the Cousins to deduce that the prince is the
latest target of “the Leprechaun,” a notorious assassin affiliated with the
Irish terrorist cell known as 32CSM. If the Leprechaun succeeds in picking off
the spare to the throne, then once again the always thin strand of peace
between Ireland and Great Britain will be ripped to shreds.

If it happens on our
side of the pond, the U.S. will have mud on its face, not to mention the bluest
of blood on its hands.

So yep, I have to stop
the Leprechaun before he gets lucky.

My employer, the
freelance black ops agency known in the field as Acme Corporation, paid big
bucks to the club owners so that I could be up close and personal with the
prince. My goal is not to shag, let alone snag, Harry the Hottie. It’s to save
his adorable hide from a possible assassination attempt.

The prince leans in,
close enough to ask in a seductive albeit ale-sodden growl, “Want me to sign
your bikini?”

I look down between my
breasts. “Oops, forgot my pen. But you seem to be carrying one, in your pants
pocket. Or maybe you’re just happy to see me.”

He’s laughing so hard
his last gulp of Guinness goes down the wrong way.

“Prince Charming has a
one-track mind.” Jack Craig’s snarl comes in loud and clear through the tiny
microphone in my ear. As the team leader for this Acme Industries mission, he
is close by, but far enough away that no potential assassin can spot him.

Trust me, there is an
assassin lurking nearby.

Jack is also my main
squeeze, which is why he’s growling about my having to play the coquette while
under deep cover (in this bikini, I’m talking figuratively if not literally) as
one of the nightclub’s VIP bottle girls, and more specifically, the world’s
most eligible prince ’s pick-up du jour.

Needless to say, the
club’s real bottle girls are pea green with envy. They can’t figure out how
this newbie became Cinderella of this Century.

If I told them that my
aim and my 1st degree black belt status had something to do with it,
would they believe me? Probably not. All they see is that I’m just this side of
Cougarville, which means Harry is less discriminating than they had hoped.

For once I’m glad Jack
is not here with us, in the cordoned-off VIP section. One involuntary muscle
flex and prince’s all too obvious brawny goon squad—three of his Royal Air
Force mates—would be on top of him, like suds on ale. 

At MI-6’s behest, we’ve
kept that a secret from Harry, for now anyway. Which, I’m sure, is why he feels
so cocksure. This mission wouldn’t have been so hard if the prince weren’t so
insistent about partying “like an ordinary surfer bloke,” is how he so
preciously puts it. 

Thus far the natives
have been awed as much by his title as his regular dude  personality.

Just as the deejay
ratchets up the hip hop club mix, six drunken sorority sisters stroll our way.
One of the girls, a Kate Middleton lookalike, pierces me with a jealous glare.

I stare back and smile,
as if to say Take the hint. Get lost.

Her eyes shift from me
to one of Harry’s RAF buds. She waves coyly at him, and he’s smitten. Smirking
back, he nods her over. She squeals and grabs the hand of one of her
girlfriends.

Harry's haremIn no time at all, she
and her besties have jumped the red velvet rope. They toss themselves onto the
prince’s entourage, who don’t seem to be fighting them off too hard.

In fact, they’re
snapping their fingers at me with drink orders for their new arm charms.

“Not good.” Jack’s
warning in my ear is just loud enough for me to here.

“Tell me something I
don’t know,” I mutter back.

“How about this?” Jack
is now shouting into my earpiece. “You’ve
lost Prince Harry
.”

He’s right.

The prince seems
captivated by a petite, busty blond beauty. Even in heels, she barely reaches
his chest. She had pulled him out onto the dance floor for a throbbing
sex-drenched hip grinder, Andree Belle’s Go Go Gadget
Heart
.

The strobe lights and
smoke machine make it hard to follow them in the crowd. Then I see them,
against one wall. The buxom little tart has draped her arms around his
shoulders and hugs him close, as if she’ll never let him go.

Apparently too close. I
shove my way through the crowd until I’m close enough to I hear Harry’s woozy
cry: “Blimey, you’re no bird! You’ve got
a wanker
!”

Before I can pull him
away, the prince is pricked on the neck with something  his partner has pulled from her cleavage.
Harry’s groan is loud—

Then the smell of smoke,
and the lights go out—

But not before the last
strobe catches the triumphant look on his partner’s face.

 “Oh my God, Jack! The woman with Harry—she’s—not a she! She’s—”

“I know, I saw it, too!
The Leprechaun!”

Proof it pays to hit the
M.A.C. counter before a night on the town.

 And to hang out where the lights are always
low.

Everyone is screaming
and shoving their way to the exits, leaving me room to follow the Leprechaun,
who was shoving Harry in the opposite direction, up against a wall.

“It’s too dark to see
where they went. Does anything show up on the club’s security cams?”

“I’m looking now. In the
meantime, check the wall for a hidden pocket door. The schematic of this club
shows a few of them on every level. I’m sure the Leprechaun had his exit scoped
out in advance.”

While he scans the feeds
from the security cameras, I skim the walls with my hands. Finally I find it: a
tiny catch, waist high.

I pull it open it just
in time to see the Leprechaun heaving Harry down a long corridor.

He may not be used to
running in heels, but I am. If only I wasn’t running in a bikini, too.

“Too many wobbly bits,”
I mutter under my breath.

It is inappropriate for
Jack to be laughing now, but he can’t help it. “Just two. And they’re a sight
to behold. Prince Charming will be upset he slept through it.”

The thought of Harry in
the French-manicured hands of an assassin who can start the United Kingdom and
Ireland down another bloody path of un-neighborly relations has me picking up
my pace. Unlike the Leprechaun, I’m smart enough to ditch my high heels—

But I’m still not fast
enough to reach them before the Leprechaun rolls him into the backseat of a
dark BMW and screeches off.

I can hear Jack slapping
the wall with his fist. “Aw, damn! We lost them!”

“Nope, I slipped a GPS
tracker in the prince’s trollies.”

“You did what?…In his—what?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I
didn’t peek. I’ll meet you around the corner.”

What’s a little white
lie between fake husband and wife?

Before he can say
another word, I snap off my earpiece and run down the block.

(c) 2012 Josie Brown. All rights reserved. This excerpt may not be resold or
redistributed without prior written permission from Josie Brown or
Signal Press Books (info@signaleditorial.com).


Guide-to-Gracious-Killing-v6

The Housewife Assassin's
Guide to Gracious Kil
ling

  In bookstores on September 30, 2012.


In the meantime, order Book 1,
The Housewife Assassin's Handbook
Murder. Suspense. Sex. And some handy household tips.

In the US, just $2.99:

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 Read an excerpt here…

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Details to follow, by September 30, 2012,
with the launch of my new book!

There is only one man I’d leave my husband for: 007.

Daniel Craig SkyfallOkay, maybe I wouldn't actually leave Martin. I'd come home at mealtimes.

I'm just talkin' dessert now, the amuse bouche, when I rhapsodize about James Bond…well really, the James Bond, as epitomized by Daniel Craig. He's the perfect 007 for these times.

He's so spot on in the role, that I don't even mind his girly-man routine in THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO.

Check out this new trailer for SKYFALL, the latest Bond flick, which will be out in November.

Love this line:

007: Everybody needs a hobby.

Bad Guy Javier Bardem: So, what's yours?

007: Resurrection.

Ummmmmmmmmmm.

Shaken and stirred,

–Josie

HAH-Hanging-Man-New-BlueThe Housewife Assassin's Handbook

Murder. Suspense. Sex. And some handy household tips.

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"This is a super sexy and fun read that you shouldn't miss!"
–Mary Jacobs, Bookhounds

 

 

It’s that time of month. (Unless you’re on TV.)

  Tampons with eyes

We've crossed the bridge into the 21st century–unless you're an actress in a tampon commercial.

On American TV, we're still squeamish when talking about menstruation.

That is, a woman's period.

Her "little visitor."

Being "on the rag," as it were.

As Adweek points out, it's ironic that a product created in the 1930s — and on television, FINALLY, in 1973 — is still cloaked in AdLandia shorthand.

Forget code words. White short shorts or short skirts was — is — GirlSpeak for "it's okay to use tampons instead of pads, without worrying about bleedthrough."

To paraphrase, Betty Friedan: it's the feminine hygiene mystique.

The FCC has what is calls  "the seven dirty words" which are forbidden to say on TV. I'm too much of a lady to say them here, but you can guess what they are:

Has anyone noticed that dick and penis isn't on the list?

Which is possibly why, yes: those words flow trippingly through the boob tube.

At least, on basic cable, which is known for its potty mouth (DEADWOOD!!! I MISS YOU!!!!

Some of these words have already slipped into major broadcast network viewing as well.

So why not vagina? Why do television hostesses fudge it by saying "va-jay-jay? They should follow Lissa Rankin's advice and say it loud, say it proud.

Lubricant ads show couples in bed. Condom ads have now broken the television barrier, too. Turn on a football game and you'll overdose on Viagra and Cialis ads. (Puh-leeeez: get that couple out of their his-and-hers outdoor clawfoot tubs!)

The 1st Amendment makes strange bedfellows. A disparate group has coallesced around the goal of ending television censorship . It includes the Pacifica Foundation on the left, and the Cato Institute (a Libertarian think tank) on the right.

In fact, on July 13, 2010 in New York, FCC regulations regarding "fleeting" use of expletives were ruled unconstitutionally vague by a three-judge panel of the U.S. 2nd Circuit Court of Appeals,  which ruled that they violated the First Amendment in light of their possible effects regarding free speech.

Maybe we're finally crossing that bridge into the 21 century.

So that we get our celebrity fix for the day, click onto the video below. At the time (1985) , it was considered groundbreaking because she actually said the "P" word.

Several times, in fact!

Recognize the actress in this Tampax ad? When it comes to their careers, everyone's starts somewhere —

Period.

*Picture: The eyes have it! Tampons–that don't leak–are a girl's best friend.

Ewwww yuck is a fact of life,

— Josie

 

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May 2012 be the year of the (Ryan) Gosling.

Ryan_gosling-crazy_stupid_love-3

As if 2011 wasn't?

Three high-profile, well received movies in one year (four, if you remember that Blue Valentine was a limited release last Christmas) and another three on the way

Can it by the year of the Gosling, two years in a row?

Of all the young turks in film today, Ryan Gosling has the depth and breadth and height (at 6'1")  that merits a long-lived and celebrated career.

He is 3D cinematic star power, no CGI needed.

If you wanted to see a man who can lose a woman because he loves her too much, and for all the wrong reasons, as he did in Blue Valentine, go to Gosling.

If you want a tough guy with a soft center who can make a movie so much more than mayhem and violence like Drive might have been without him, go to Gosling.

If you want an actor who embodies a player like the one he played in Crazy, Stupid Love, but then can turn the role on its head by showing that he lost his soul when he broke his heart, go to Gosling.

If you want a guy who can play a cocky political operative yet be ethical and still be believable, as he was in Ides of March–AND hold his own against George Clooney–

You got it: go to Gosling.

Yup. Time to change the Chinese calendar.

I would so enjoy looking down onto a placemat with that face on it.

Yum yum yum,

— Josie

 

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Who’da thunk it? TRUE HOLLYWOOD LIES is #9 on Amazon’s Book list for “Humor”

TrueHollywood Lies
I can't help but love the fact that TRUE HOLLYWOOD LIES is now #9 in Amazon, under Books > Literature & Fiction > Comic.

I'm in very good company: Tina Fey is at #1, Mindy Kaling at #3, and Ellen DeGeneres at #5.

Overall, TRUE HOLLYWOOD LIES' Amazon ranking at this very moment is #451.

The novel is a very satirical look at LA and celebrity, so glad others have picked up on that. Or as the critcs have put it:

"…The tone is confessional, the writing laced with venomous humor…" -The Wall Street Journal

"A fine piece of literary work." –The New York Post, Page Six

"Brown captures the humor of working for a megalomanic . . .[A] well-paced, entertaining story." –Publishers Weekly

My goal is to get TRUE HOLLYWOOD LIES somewhere in the Amazon 100. Want to help me out? If you want a quick, fun read for only $1.99, you can check it out here… 

Thanks for allowing me to share this bit of happiness,

— Josie

 

Elizabeth Taylor: jewels weren’t her career, but they made her star sparkle even brighter.

Elizabeth Taylor jewels

Sotheby's has just auctioned off Elizabeth Taylor's treasure chest (no pun intended) of jewels.

The booty (sorry!) fetched $117 million, including a necklace that features a 16th Century pearl, La Peregrina, which  had was once painted by 17th Century Spanish artist Velazquez.

That alone sold for $11.8 million, which is a record for the gem.

Also on the auction block was the actress' infamous 33.19-carat diamond ring, which was given to her by her twice-spouse, actor Richard Burton.

Despite all her great movies — National Velvet, Giant, Splendor in the Grass, Cleopatra, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf – here was a time in Elizabeth Taylor's life when she was better known for what she wore around her neck, or on her fingers and ears, than her acting.

Personally, I think that's a shame, because I think she was an arresting actress. When she was on the screen, everyone else (well, except Montgomery Clift or Richard Burton) disappeared into the background.

But she was an even better celebrity. In that stellar firmament, everyone's got a gimmick.

Hers sparkled.

Taylor put it this way: "I adore wearing gems, but not because they are mine. You can't possess radiance, you can only admire it."

If only one of her earliest suitors, Howard Hughes, had known that. His way of courting was to wear down the prey-du-jour by offering a role in a movie at his studio RKO, cold hard cash–

Or jewels.

None of which worked with Taylor.

In fact, he stalked her to a gal pal's hideway in Palm Springs. There she was, soaking up the sun poolside when Hughes, piloting one of his helicopters, landed on the lawn. His greeting — to sprinkle her with diamonds — didn't get the result he wanted:

She ran away, giggling.

Smart girl.

I guess she meant it when she said, "I have a woman's body and a child's emotions."

Admit it, ladies: don't we all?

Watch the video, below, about Sotheby's auction…

 –Josie

 

10 very broad hints that Sarah Jessica Parker is wearing the wrong hat…

Sjpx-large

Ya gotta love Sarah Jessica Parker. Not only is she the consumate fashionista, she is also too often a much better actress than the roles she chooses.

Case in point: State and Main

All the more reason to wince at her latest choice in le chapeau, which she wore while wow'ing crowds down under.

Not that I'm any style maven. In fact, I've made a few fashion missteps myself. (Full disclosure: I've been known to wear shoes from different pairs. That's what happens when all your shoes are black flats.)

That said, I would counsel Ms. Parker thusly:

Dear Ms. Parker,

(Can I call you Sarah Jessica? How about SJ? …oh, never mind! How 'bout I just call you a cab?)

You know you're wearing the wrong hat when:

1. You can be mistaken for the Wicked Witch of the West.

2. You've been invited to tea by Johnny Depp — and he's dressed as the Mad Hatter.

3. Your neck starts to hurt because of it.

4. Walls jump up out of nowhere, and smack you on the nose.

5. People on the street yell out: "Gaga! Can I have your autograph?"

6. Bees mistake it for their hive.

7. Even the posh crush attending Aston is giggling and pointing.

8. It is drawing more attention to you than your latest film.

9. Your kids won't hug you because they are scared of you.

10. Your doorman gently reminds you that Halloween is over.

(c) 2011 Josie Brown. All Rights Reserved

Just sayin',

— Josie

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