One of the great things we love about Jess Andersen, besides her writing, is her sense of humor.  Jess enjoys sharing with her fans the “many” typos she makes as she writes her fabulous stories that entertain us.  Here are some of her fun typos.  You can find all of them on her website… www.jessicaandersen.com

Doc Jess’s Typos from Hell

.. she held herself a little stiffy …

(What a difference the letter “L” makes!!)

… their bodies were still intertwined, like they’d been going at it hot and heavy with their moths rather than their minds …

(Is that a pair of mothballs in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?)

… she looked stunning, standing naked beside the silvery waterfall and the glittering poo that spread beneath it …

(All that glitters is not gold!)

“For Chrissakes, are we going to get moving, or keep purrying around?”

(Well, I guess ‘pussying’ has that cat connotation, after all)

… he bowed over the sacrifice, humbling himself before the gods of the ski.

(I’ve known guys who worship their cars, but really? A ski?)

… cut through her like a thousand shards of colored gas …

(Well, I guess if unicorns can fart butterflies, rainbows aren’t that far off…)

… in the new Nightkeepers’ novella, Crusty Skull!

(Er, that’d be Crystal, not Crusty. Two very different concepts, that!)

… deep down inside her, a big-assed case of merves took up residence.

(I hate it when I get a case of the merves!)

… at the sound, her rear exploded … 

(Er, fear, maybe? Or else too many beans?)

Manhung in the Wild West 

(This one I sent in an email to my editor, with the end result that we now call

the book ‘Well Hung in the Wild West.’ Which is pretty accurate, really- lol.)

…he was going to get a lot of head for that one.

(Um, that should be ‘heat’. Or perhaps not 😉

He was the moist irritating person she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting.

(I think there’s a creme for that.)

… he patted the cushion, inviting her to spit beside him.

(Or ‘sit’. Depends on her mood, I guess! LOL)

… it was her kinky weapon.

(Er … ‘her kind of weapon’? Yikes! Sticks and stones may break my bones,

but whips and chains excite me …)

… her heart broke into a thousand glittering sharts …

(No. Just no. <G>)

… testing the strength of the bone that connected them.

(Bond. And no further comment!)

 … she choked up like it was a Louisville Slutter …

(a little Friday autoerotic asphyxiation, maybe?)