By CJ Hollenbach

I am always onboard for a book signing or a party. So when Jasmine-Jade Enterprises asked me to help promote Ellora’s Cave and Lady Jaided in Tampa, I was more than happy to oblige even though it was July. There is a special place in hell for whoever booked my 5:45 a.m. flight to the Sunshine State, though. I was accompanied by another Ellora's Cave cover model— the black, buff, and beautiful Rodney Chatman. For some reason the Hooterville airport stapled our boarding passes together. I laughed and told Rodney I felt like we were "life partners" on our honeymoon. I also added "We could BOTH do worse!"

The sweltering Florida heat hit me like a punch in the face when I got off the plane. We were met by fellow cover hunks Peter Decicco and John Desalvo, who would also be attending the festivities.

I thought the guys would balk at the outfits they were given to wear for the party, citing exploitation for the black tuxedo pants with matching fedoras, white suspenders and no shirts. But the male eye candy went along, looking chiseled and picture perfect in their minimal wrappers. I was given a white vest to wear since I'm a Lady Jaided columnist, in addition to being a model.

The guys rode to the party in the Ellora's Cave tour bus. We chatted on the way, but, sorry ladies, what is said on the bus stays on the bus, kind of like in Las Vegas. Besides, I took that damned cover model oath of secrecy. I even did the handshake.
The party was a lot of fun, with free drinks, good food, great music, and of course, plenty of beefcake. John Desalvo and I cut the Lady Jaided cake, chocolate with white icing and a picture of the magazine on top. For the record, John didn't have any cake, which would explain his trademark washboard abs. I, on the other hand, had two pieces and that is why I'm on my way to trading in my washboard for a Maytag.

On day two of the promotional tour, the guys did a photo shoot at the hotel. We picked up the nickname "Jaided Gentlemen" and caused quite a stir. Spectators were hanging off the balconies of the adjacent hotel for a glimpse of us. Passing cars slowed to watch and honked their horns. Some asked if we were shooting a Chippendale's calendar.

Then it was back onboard the bus to Borders for the book signing. John snoozed as the rest of us commiserated about reality TV shows. Peter nudged John and asked to borrow his cell phone for a call. "Guess who the girl picked on Average Joe?" Peter said into the phone. John opened his eyes. "You woke me up for that?" (Sorry, but I had to break the oath for that one!)

I did have my own "Oprah at Hermes in Paris" moment on my last night in Florida when I tried to buy some souvenirs in St. Petersburg. I entered several stores only to be told they were closed as I watched other people buy their cheesy merchandise. Taking a page from The Oprah Handbook, I would have my revenge. I bought my tacky seashell-covered crap at the airport and paid four times the price. The Big O and I have our principles!

Jasmine-Jade pulled out all the stops for the Ohio signing two weeks later. A local radio station broadcast the event live from the Borders store. Akron radio personality Stan Piatt emceed the event, which drew record crowds despite torrential rains. Six of the EC anthology/calendar Cavemen were on hand for the ladies along with several bestselling authors.

Being the old pro at signings, I was asked by a novice blond cover model, "Okay, what's going on?" I said, "This is a book signing." He looked at me and, living up to his roots, asked, "Okay, what do we do?" With a blank stare I told him, "We sign books."

It was funny to see the women standing there mesmerized by the guys all dressed in wife beater T-shirts and tight black pants. I asked the women if they wanted to have their picture taken with the guys. Their reply: "Oh, no I couldn't! I'd be too embarrassed! Where do I stand?" Then they quickly squeezed their way between the walls of muscle.

I had already warned the guys I was writing an article on the signing and they should be as witty as possible. One of the Cavemen mentioned that while posing for a group photo with a perky blonde he was getting a little excited as she rubbed his back. "I was definitely getting wood!" he said. I told him, "Believe me, NOBODY noticed!".

I did have my own "Oprah at Hermes in Paris" moment on my last night in Florida when I tried to buy some souvenirs in St. Petersburg. The Borders manager that day apologized to me saying she couldn't put my 2005 calendar page for July on their end-of-the-aisle display rack due to my bare ass in the photo. I told her I figured it might be a little too risqué. "I'm really sorry," she said. "We can't show butt crack."

By the end of the signing I was hoarse from talking and my feet were killing me. But, it was all good. We had more cake. But I only had one piece this time. I'm learning .... baby steps.