Tag Archives: What is Sexy

the writing chair – an update

Last I left you, I was sitting in a holey chair with no support and little time or energy for finding a replacement. Well here is a happy ending update for you. We have this building on our property, probably from the late 1800’s, and when we first moved in over 10 years ago, I got it in my head to furnish it and turn it into a ‘playhouse’–bar, bar stools, antique collectibles, big screen TV, chess, cards, books, stereo, and–wait for it–a chaise lounge. So I started thinking, would that fit in my writing room? Would it be comfortable? I made the mistake of thinking out loud and the next thing I know I hear a strange noise outside, and go downstairs to find the husband dragging the chaise from the playhouse, up the stone path to the back door of the house, because, you know, why ask for help.

Anyway, since it was here I thought I might as well try it in the room. Between the two of us we got it up the stairs and lo and behold, I love it. It’s big enough I can fit on it with a few cats (always a consideration in this house). I can sit upright, or lay down. I can work or I can nap or I can watch TV when I’m supposed to be working. And it is finally a chair befitting a romance author. Everyone thinks we lie around on chaise lounges eating bon bons and drinking champagne in our negligees anyway, at least now I’ve got one thing right–a leopard chaise! And I didn’t even have to leave the house and go to a store to find it! Let’s see if it inspires any good stories, shall we?

Cat Johnson's Leopard Writing Chaise


piggin’ strings–they’re not just for rodeos

I tend to think out of the box. It’s my job as a romance writer. Normal people see things as they are. I see things as I can remake them to suit my purposes. For instance, while other romance authors are spending tons of money, preaching to the choir by placing their bookcover in a print ad in a romance magazine, I spend my money sponsoring rodeo cowboys. I get to give back to the sport I’m writing about, and I’ve got 3 bull riders in 2 countries wearing my tag line and website on the sleeves of their riding shirts and passing out Let’s Buck stickers at rodeos, spreading the word to people who love the subject I write about, but may have never read a romance novel before. Thinking out of the box…

Anyway, I’ve recently discovered ropers. I’ve alway loved cowboys, and I specialize in bull riders in my books but while watching the National Finals Rodeo in Vegas last December (mainly because I’d sponsored Makin8.com’s trip there to broadcast from the event live–thinking out of the box…) I noticed the tie-down ropers. The ropers are hot all on their own, but they also come with some very interesting equipment… Not THAT kind, though I’m sure that is true too. I’m talking more about all the ropes and strings they use.

There’s the rope, of course, that they use to lasso the calf. Then there is that shorter, thinner string they hold in their mouths while roping (something about that is very sexy to me–perhaps I’m orally fixated.) That is the piggin’ string and it’s what they use to tie the calf’s feet together. And that’s when my wonderfully warped brain began to work. What else could you tie up with that string? Hmmm…

That’s how my newest release Texas Two-Step came to be about tie-down ropers, and their creative use of piggin’ strings with the women they love.

Enough said, you have to read it for yourself.

Let’s Buck–or rope, or string…


when the frost is on the pumpkin…

goardsI love autumn in the North East. I find something very romantic about this season more than any other. Perhaps it’s the cool crisp temperatures that make it the perfect time for snuggling in front of a crackling fire with the one you love. Around here the air conditioner comes out of the bedroom window and the flannel sheets and down comforter go on the bed.

There is likely to be a pot of something hot and aromatic bubbling on the stove for dinner by the time the sun sets, which is pretty damn early this time of year, especially once the time changes. But that’s okay too, because who can feel guilty putting on comfy pajamas by 5PM if it’s already pitch dark outside? Certainly not me. Add a glass of wine and a warm fuzzy throw big enough for two, a nice fire and a stack of wood enough to last the night, and you’ve got the makings for the perfect evening in front of the television.candle

I know there are songs written about springtime and something to be said for winter and summer, but in my book (and I am sort of an expert on this topic being a romance writer and all), autumn is the season for romance. Even our dinners with friends seem cozier. Perhaps it’s the comfort food on the menu…

What do you all think?

a year of sexy–happy anniversary to me

I realized it was just about this time last year that I joined the Eat Something Sexy blogs. What a year it has been. Since October of 2009 new bloggers have joined us here, Amy has a released another book, and I’ve had a few releases myself. So is the cycle of life. A year has passed. The weather has turned colder here in NY and the leaves have begun to fall. It is October once again.

My first real post here in October of 2009 (after a quick welcome message) was about my first experience watching the Professional Bull Riders in CT. Read it here.

Little has changed since I wrote that post. What was different was instead of driving out and back for a single event, this year I got tickets for all 3 events and became a temporary resident of CT for that weekend. I got a behind-the-scenes look at the bull housing and got up close and personal with both the bulls and the stock contractors for a fascinating tour. And instead of being just an fan, I also volunteered at the Rider Relief Fund booth helping them sell raffle tickets to raise funds to support injured bull riders before each event.

As far as my feelings about ‘what is sexy‘, they haven’t changed much over the past year either. The cowboy who got knocked out cold then jumped up to walk out of the arena under his own power. The rider who narrowly missed getting hooked with a bull horn by leaping nearly into the laps of the front row spectators yet still took the time to pose for a picture while hanging from the rail. The competitor who got bucked off before the buzzer but still smiled anyway, just happy he’d had the chance to try. And all the cowboys who, though the event was over, took the time to come back out onto the dirt and greet the fans waiting there for them. That is what makes a man sexy–going above and beyond what’s expected. It doesn’t matter if a man wears chaps and spurs, or a business suit, I truly believe it’s what’s contained inside–radiating from their heart and soul–which makes a man sexy.


nature’s bounty~clams

There’s just something raw and animalistic and yes, sexy, about catching your own food. Some of my favorite memories are clamming with friends on a salt pond in Rhode Island.


The clams are barely an hour old when we’d bring them back to the house and throw them in the closed shells on a hot BBQ grill rack. They cook only until they open up, then you take them in hand, shoot just a dash of hot sauce and eat them, all hot and tasty good, right out of the shells. No utensils, no plates. Add an icy cold beer to cool the fire of the hot sauce and you’ve got all you need.

Of course, for the catching this year, since clamming began at low tide which was 8 in the morning, we indulged in Mimosas made right on the boat out of Prosecco and orange juice.


This year we did something a little different. Since we had a professional chef with us, he insisted we not use the bounty up for our little grilling/drinking party. Instead, he brought the clams back to our rental’s kitchen and turned them into incredible home made chowder on the first night, so light and tasty people went back for third helpings. Then on the next night, the rest were made into Linguini and Clam Sauce, with tons of garlic, good olive oil and fresh parsley.

Clams in a cooler

Another summer’s Rhode Island vacation has come and gone, but the memories will last forever and next year we’ll be back. Clams, look out!

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what is sexy?

I don’t consider myself a fickle person, but I do think that things change and people change. In fact, it is things changing that change people.

Why am I babbling? Perhaps because I’ve spent the last week in computer hell, battling mysterious symptoms that come and go on my MAC while I watch helplessly as my PC is repeatedly crippled by the dreaded Blue Screen of Death.

What does all of this have to do with what’s sexy? Only this… I’m an Alpha male kinda girl. I usually write the typical uber-tough heroes.  Manly men who are not just tough guys for their professions of soldiers and firemen and cowboys, but also for their personalities. However today, after my journey to computer hell, the computer geek is my fantasy man. I dream of him charging into my life and saving the day by wrestling the evils affecting my precious laptops.

Call me fickle, or practical or maybe just a damsel in distress. Either way, as independent as I am, I’m not so much so that I don’t love a man to ride in and save me once in a while, no matter what I’m being saved from.

Until next time I bid you adieu from computer hell.


what is sexy?

It’s a subjective question. Just as some prefer diet soda and others will only drink regular, people find different aspects of another person either sexy or not. I agree with that on most levels, especially when it comes to appearance and personality traits. But what I think is most important, what can make or break a man for me in the ‘is he sexy’ department is actions.

Actions do speak so much louder than words and apparently I am most affected by them because this post has been brewing in me for a week. I let it settle down a bit because I was surprisingly volatile about it for a few days.

Here is what I’m talking about. I had the pleasure of attending the final regular season competition of the PBR (Professional Bull Riders) at the Mohegan Sun Arena in Connecticut a week ago. The arena is located in the middle of the Casino there so you get quite a mix of people as you can imagine. Throw in the top 40 professional bull riders in the country, their fans, the stock contractors, bull fighters, announcers and road crew, in addition to the usual casino goers and you get the picture of what the diverse personalities inside Mohegan Sun was like that day.

Anyway, after a great competition my husband and I went to a seafood restaurant to grab a quick dinner before we drove home. We sat at the bar since it was crowded in the restaurant part, and I was enjoying my lobster bisque and salad when a man and his wife entered.

(Here is where I get to my point so bear with me.) There was one decent seat left at the bar, and next to that, located behind a column with about a six inch wide space of countertop, was another barstool. The man took the good seat and put his wife on the other one behind the column. When I realized that, I immediately lost respect for the man. He ordered them both a meal, though how she was supposed to eat hers without adequate counter space, I don’t know. His appetizer was an entire platter of raw seafood but although I know from the Eat Something Sexy website that everything on that plate was an aphrodesiac, nothing was going to make this man sexy in my book. A sexy man would have given his wife the best seat, even if it meant standing next to her to eat.

Perhaps his lack of gentlemanly behavior wouldn’t have made me so angry if I hadn’t just been exposed to men who I consider the quintessential gentlemen, the cowboy. I watched a bullrider get trampled by a one-ton bull and still manage a wave to the crowd while being carried out of the arena on a stretcher in incredible pain. These are the men who call you ma’am, give up their seat for you, stop to sign autographs no matter how tired, rushed or hurt they are. These are the traits of a real man, a gentleman, a sexy man.

How did my encounter with the anti-gentleman end? Well I managed to keep myself under control until he told the waitress how his room had come with 2 comp tickets to the bullrides but there was no way he wanted those tickets. I had wondered why there were so many good empty seats when I could only purchase tickets up in the nose-bleed section. It was then that I asked for the check, paid the bill and we left. Though the fact he hadn’t used the tickets was pretty symbolic to my writer’s mind, because such a man didn’t belong in the same arena as those cowboys.

So there it is. What’s sexy in a man to me? It’s not how they look, or even what they eat. It’s how they act that means so much more than all the rest.