Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Let me start off by saying I know my thinking regarding this situation is completely illogical. I know it makes no sense. I know 30 isn't old. But knowing didn't change anything....
I turned 30 the day after Christmas. About two weeks before, I started freaking out a little bit. I mean, it was different than other people I know who are 30 and older. It was ME turning 30. ME leaving my 20's behind and that was a little scary for me. Where had the time gone? It seemed I just graduated high school, just married my love, just had my first baby... Had it really been 12 years since I graduated? It was overwhelming to say the least. Then I started thinking about how fast the time flies and I realized the next 10 would go by even faster. It seems each year does that. Here we are heading into 2010 and I'm wondering where 2009 went!
I was freaked and then a funny thing happened. I woke up on my birthday and nothing was different (imagine that, lol). I looked the same, my kids look the same, my hubby still looks at ME the same way. It was just another birthday, another year going by. I do wish they would slow down a little bit, but there's nothing we can do about that. It's like a light switch turned on and I realized none of it mattered. Time will keep going, we'll all get older and all we can do is enjoy our time. Make the best of each day, each week, each year.
****The winner from Rae's blog yesterday is Mason Canyon. Please email me at email@example.com
***Rae has offered a free copy of book one in her series, Destiny's Magick to one lucky commenter. I will draw a name and the winner will be posted tomorrow.
The Terran Realm and World Building
Thanks, Madison, for letting me come and share the Terran Realm world and how I approach world building.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Rae Morgan and I am the creator of the Terran Realm for Liquid Silver Books. My new book, Earth Awakened, came out on December 28, 2009 and is the seventh book in the Realm (http://www.terranrealm.com). The other Terran Realm authors and I share a world protocol in order to create our books, or, in other words, I built a basic world order and the authors who came to play in my world used it as a base and added to it. This shared-world or shared-universe type of writing is very common in the science fiction and fantasy genres (Dungeons and Dragons, Dragonlance, and so on) and crossed over into the romance genres with the onslaught of paranormal books (Crimson City series and Liquid Silver’s new Strange Hollow series and, of course, the Terran Realm).
Most romance authors, however, don’t share their world orders with others; they create their own, unique worlds and write in a series (think JR Ward, Charlaine Harris, Laurel K Hamilton, Linnea Sinclair and many others in the print world and e-authors like Marisa Chenery, Kayelle Allen, Leigh Wyndfield, myself and many others).
All writers can build a world, be it a completely new one or a world existing within the context of the real world as we, the readers, know it. That’s what I did in the Terran Realm and in my Coven of the Wolf books, but it can be done in non-paranormal contexts also such as Violet Summers’ Worthington Group books.
If you think about it, most paranormal and science fiction authors build new worlds every day and don’t even realize it. My friend Linnea Sinclair says world building is like decorating a house - - “Things must mesh, must synch, must direct the eye. There must be contrasts but they must be studied, not haphazard.” (Quote from a July 2, 2002 e-mail to me after I queried her on world building.) As authors, we often do these things instinctively; we have the creative eye for decorating our worlds.
What does it take to build a world? I don’t know how other authors do it, but I start with the characters. Who are the characters asking me to tell their stories? Where are they from? What or who are the influences in their lives? What are their goals, motivations? What are the conflicts, both on a macro (world) and micro (personal) level, that could affect them? What happens to them from the beginning to the end of the book (the action or plot)?
Then I sit in the chair and begin to layer and add texture to the bare bones of an idea that is stewing in my brain. I make and create a world history, time lines, character sketches, maps and whatever else I need to create a multi-dimensional world. I need to see it in my head and having all this at my fingertips aids that process. I then add real life research which I use to make my world seem real. For Earth Awakened, I read copious reports and books on geology and climate, on the Gaia hypothesis, and on weaponry and helicopters. BTW, while I do all this thinking on paper, I do not write an outline. I use my notes, my histories, and so on to keep me and the characters honest within the context of their world and then let the characters tell me their stories.
In Earth Awakened, I didn’t throw out the world as the reader knows it, I just created a world within the real world. New York City is the NYC we all see and read about. The world’s conflicts are the same. Scientific principles are those we learn in school. The only difference is my Terrans are not Human, but are an evolutionary offshoot that developed side-by-side. Terrans live longer, are stronger and have the ability to control the elements around them. In ancient times, the Terrans would have been worshipped or feared as gods and goddesses, as great leaders, Kings and Queens, and as wizards, witches, magicians, and psychics.
By creating a world within the real world, I have kept it simple for me and any other author writing in the world. Current events are the same (the Korean threat mentioned early in the book). Terrans watch television, serve in the military, vote, go to public schools, teach, own businesses, grocery shop, drive cars and so on. But without the Terrans, the Earth would be a lot worse off than it is.
If an author creates a whole new world, she must take into consideration things such as politics, the economy, technology and scientific knowledge, language, belief systems, cultural impact, morality and the like in order to give the world depth and breathe life into the story. Creating a whole new world may seem like a daunting task, but authors do it every day. JK Rowling did it in the Harry Potter books and Linnea Sinclair did it in her Dock Five Universe.
When creating any world, be it a whole new one or one that piggy backs onto the real world, the author needs to maintain consistency. This is why I spend the time creating my world protocols in writing. I stick them in my WIP notebook along with my plot points, my character biographies, and my research. Such world histories and character sketches keep me honest. Nothing is worse than having a fan write you and tell you that you changed your world from Book One to Book Three and not in a natural evolutionary sort of way.
Lots of work? Sure, but not as hard as you think - - and well worth the effort when reviewers and fans tell you that your characters are believable and that they were pulled into the world you created and didn’t want to leave. Authors live for those kinds of comments.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Mine’s either 3 or 4. Well, at least when it comes to my writing. I’ve been thinking about that recently, in this lull period when one year winds down and we’re all eagerly planning for the next. And what I’ve realized is, I think in multiples. Let me explain.
My December release, Sex Drive (Kensington Aphrodisia), is the first in my 4-book Wild Ride to Love series. It’s a sexy “planes, trains, automobiles, and a cruise ship” series about three sisters who travel home to their baby sister’s wedding and along the way find romances of their own - and learn that the journey to love truly is one wild ride! There are 4 sisters, and 4 books. My first 4 books were also a series, the Awesome Foursome series about 4 20-something girlfriends who each found a sexy romance. So, that’s two votes for the number 4.
But I think 3 wins, and here’s why.
In my January release, Sex on the Beach (Berkley Heat), an exotic wedding turns into an erotic escapade for 3 unlikely couples who find lust - and maybe even love - on the white sands of Belize. The book I’m busily finishing off this very moment is Sex on the Slopes, which will be a December 2010 release and - you guessed it - it’s also set around a destination wedding, this time in Whistler in winter, and it follows 3 couples’ romances. Now, 2 is not my magic number, so it didn’t seem right to only have two “Sex On…” books - so I’ve proposed to my Berkley editor that I follow up with a 3rd book, Sex on the Sea, this time set on a Greek island cruise.
If that isn’t enough, here’s further support for the number 3. In January, I also have Erotique: Carrie coming out from eHarlequin’s Spice Briefs. A suburban mom believes firmly in tradition, such as the occasional Saturday night adventures at the private sex club, Erotique, that add spice to her life. In February, there’s Erotique: Jillian: an employee who’s been lusting over a visiting colleague gets match-made by her female boss. And in Erotique: Alex (March), a writer of erotic romances learns that youthful sexual fantasies really can come true. Yes, there are 3 Erotique stories.
I’m sure there’s some deep psychological reason that I think in multiples. Maybe I don’t want to let a good thing go? Yet, I’ve never been drawn to do more than 3 or 4 stories in a series . . . If you have a theory, let me know. I’m up for being psychoanalyzed!
You can find more information about all my books at my website http://www.susanlyons.ca/
, along with excerpts, behind-the-scenes notes, reviews, recipes, discussion guides, and other goodies (and a monthly contest and e-newsletter). For now, here’s an excerpt from Sex on the Beach, and a couple more questions to get us chatting. Do you have a magic, lucky, or special number? Do you ever think in multiples like me? And also, because I’m betting you’ve been doing some reading this holiday season, what books are you reading, what books did you get for Christmas, and what are you looking forward to reading in 2010? Let’s share some titles and expand everyone’s “to be read” shelves!
Last but not least, thanks so much to the Three Wicked Writers for letting me visit with you today.
Excerpt from Sex on the Beach
[In “Sex With the Proper Stranger, ” model Tamiko Sato comes to the wedding as arm-candy for the groom’s deep-in-the-closet uncle. What’s she to do when resort manager Ric Nuñez proves far too tempting? Ric just might be the man who can help her heal the wounds left by past abuse, and open her heart to love.]
Ric was short of breath by the time he could finally put his feet down and touch bottom. “Stay on your back,” he told Tamiko, towing her into shallower water. Then, with one arm around her shoulders and one under her thighs, he scooped her up in his arms.
She quaked with deep shivers that wrenched her whole body as he strode toward shore.
That’s when he realized she was naked.
Before, her body had been mostly underwater, and he’d been focused on saving her. Now he saw the soft curves of small breasts, the vulnerable triangle of a completely waxed mound.
He forced his gaze away as he stumbled out of the water onto the sand, his unerring sense of direction leading him straight to the shirt and water bottle he’d discarded.
She stirred weakly, trying to free herself. Averting his eyes, he set her down gently, and she crumpled to a sitting position, hugging her knees tightly and coughing.
“Here, put this on.” He tossed her his shirt and forced himself to look away as she struggled into it.
Then he glanced back, to see her rubbing her calf. “How’s the cramp?”
“It’s” - shivers racked her body - “a bit better. But I’m f-freezing.”
From shock and pain, as much as the water temperature. He sat on the sand and pulled her awkwardly into his lap, cradling her in his arms. When she struggled, he said, “Body heat. We need to get you warm.”
Despite the cool water and the fact that he wore only soaking-wet shorts, he was overheated from exertion. He rubbed her back, her arm, whatever parts of her body he could reach.
As his warmth began to transfer to her, she slowly relaxed against him.
At dinner she’d looked like a princess, and now she was a pitiful, shivering bundle of damp shirt, cold skin, and dripping hair.
Damn it, the woman could have died tonight.
“Where the hell is Zane?” he demanded. “What was he thinking, letting you go swimming alone?”
“He d-didn’t know. I went for a w-walk.” Gradually the shivers were easing. “It was an impulse to go swimming.”
She ducked her head, wet hair trailing across his bare chest. “A stupid one. I’m out of practice, and I got out too far. And I think I’m dehydrated.”
He picked up the water bottle, unscrewed the top, and handed it to her. “Sip it.”
“Thanks.” She sipped, coughed, sipped again. Then a shudder wrenched her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You saved my life. I could have - ”
“Don’t think about it,” he said roughly. “You’re fine. Just, for God’s sake, don’t do it again.”
“Believe me, I won’t.” She sipped again, prodded her calf gingerly. “The cramp’s gone, and I’m starting to warm up.” A shiver rippled through her, and her body tensed, fighting it. “I can probably walk back now.”
Maybe. But now that her skin wasn’t so deathly cold, she felt wonderful. He’d rescued the woman, so didn’t he deserve a few minutes of holding her? “Don’t rush things. The cramp might come back.”
“Okay. Whatever you think, Ric.”
She knew his name. With all the people she’d met today, she’d remembered his name. Perhaps he hadn’t imagined that odd sense of connection, one that shouldn’t exist, considering she’d come here with another man.
Slowly her body softened against him until she was snuggled close, arms around her knees, head resting on his shoulder. His arms encircled her.
They were both soaking wet, her hair was dripping cold water on his chest, and a bony elbow poked him in the ribs. And yet he’d have been happy to sit this way for hours.
Except her warm, naked bottom pressing against his lap was too damned arousing.
Zane Slade’s woman. Not only that, but a resort guest. He never messed around with guests or staff. He’d built this business from the ground up and struggled every day to keep it in the black. He wasn’t going to screw things up over some woman.
Not when he had Mara, his sweet four-year-old daughter, depending on him.
Sex . . . It was easily found, if he wanted it. Mostly, he was too busy to care.
He’d gone without for too long. That, combined with the warm curves of a lovely woman on his lap, must be why he was feeling so horny.
Of course, he’d felt horny from the moment he laid eyes on Tamiko.
She was so different from his ex-wife - blonde, curvy Jane, who’d deserted both him and Mara. So different from the Belizean women and tourists he’d occasionally dated.
Tamiko was elegant, like a bamboo orchid: simple, clean-lined, utterly perfect. A touch mysterious; sexy, yet with a hint of purity and innocence.
No, that was crazy. There was no innocence. She was another man’s lover and a successful model.
He’d bet few men had seen her like this: scared and vulnerable. His arms tightened protectively around her.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
We're going to take the next few days off to spend Christmas with our families, but we didn't want to go without wishing all our AWESOME visitors a VERY Merry Christmas. Enjoy your holiday. Hope you have a day filled with family, good friends, good food, and lots of love! Be safe and have fun and we'll see you next week!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
By tomorrow all my kids will be home and we'll burrow in for the festivities. Not doing a big deal here. Every year, I have a Christmas Eve spread for my small family. We munch on goodies, visit, and listen to Christmas music. Of course, I always beg the hubster to put on my favorite Johnnie Mathis CD. Sometimes we'll find a good holiday movie or two so I'm hoping, somewhere, White Christmas is showing. That's my all time favorite holiday flick. Of course, the kids will almost always opt for National Lampoons Christmas Vacation and I won't complain because I love that one too. Anyway, on Christmas Day I'll fix a nice dinner and later we'll open gifts. Like many of you, I'm sure, I love the giving better than the getting.
As you know, it's been crazy for me with releases lately. That's a GOOD THING. Edge of Nowhere (Book 4:High Plains Shifters) came out last week at EC and today I'm featured in Flavors of Ecstasy IV. Every year, Ellora's Cave does four caveman anthologies and I'm fortunate to be among the wonderful authors in the final edition of the year. This collection comes out in both print and e-book today. My story is a hot little contemporary called Hotter Than Hell. Here's a blurb and excerpt of the book. Hope ya'll like it!
Ellie Grant hasn’t had the best luck with men, unless you count her friendship with Sam Dare—a friendship on the cusp of change as the sexy fireman challenges her to a weekend of no-holds-barred, hotter-than-hell sex.
Sam had spent plenty of restless nights aching for Ellie and he’s grown tired of waiting for her to notice the attraction. As a firefighter, he knows a little something about heat and, as far as he’s concerned, Ellie is the only woman who can make him burn.
An Excerpt From: HOTTER THAN HELL
Copyright © REGINA CARLYSLE, 2009
Just then his doorbell rang and he opened the door to see Ellie standing there looking as cute as hell and as mad as a hornet.
She sighed and stuck out her bottom lip. “Got another one of those?”
He held up his bottle. “A beer? Sure. But I thought you hated this stuff.”
Ellie marched past him, tossed the luggage that passed for a purse on an overstuffed chair and marched to the kitchen. “I do, but if that’s all you’ve got, I’ll take it. I’m that desperate.” She peered into the fridge, giving him a more than healthy look at her mighty fine ass then she turned. “God! Don’t you ever eat? Sam, you don’t have enough food in here to feed a mouse. Where’s the whiskey?”
As usual, she gave him little time to answer. She was a woman who was in constant motion. “Whiskey? That bad?” Sam reached into a cupboard and pulled down a bottle of his finest bourbon and reached for a squat bar glass. “So where’s Shithead?”
He dropped a couple of ice cubes into the glass then smiled when she launched herself at him with a groan. “Why don’t I listen to you, Sam? You told me. You said Scott was a jerk and I didn’t listen.”
God, she smelled great. He’d known she was going to a nightclub tonight but there wasn’t a whiff of anything stronger than the classy-smelling perfume she always wore. He wrapped his arms around her curvy body as she buried her nose against his bare chest. Sam sank his face in her wavy hair and just breathed her in. “Ah, I’m sorry, sweetheart. What happened?”
She looked up, embarrassment sharp in her soft gray eyes. “Got dumped. He walked out on me at the club. Just left me there. Now Sam, don’t go getting all pissed off. I know that look. I mean it.”
Sam fought down the urge to hunt the bastard down and smash his perfectly capped teeth down his throat. “Okay. All right. I’m listening.” Reluctantly, he released her to pour a splash of whiskey over the cubes in her glass. “Come on. Tell Dr. Sam all about it.”
He put the glass in her hand and looped an arm over her shoulder before leading her back into the living room. Once she was settled on the couch, he turned off the television.
“Hey! You don’t have to do that. You were watching that before I showed up,” she protested. “Come on, Sam, don’t let me ruin your plans.”
Sam turned and smiled, then walked over to the stereo to turn on some tunes. Sexy, smoky jazz filled the room. “Game was boring. You, however, are as fascinating as hell.” Facing her, he caught the look of dejection on her face along with something else, something that surprised him and made his heart thump hard. Her pretty eyes were focused on his bare chest. Her tongue brushed along her bottom lip and his cock instantly rose at the temptation she presented. Tonight she was wearing a short little bit of nothing skirt in a soft pink color and a matching tiny tee. She looked like a fluffy bite of cotton candy. Soft and completely edible.
Finally she switched her attention to the glass in her hand and took a tentative sip.
Mm. Interesting. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who had dirty dreams these days. He was sick to death of all this friendship stuff. Making a quick decision, he sat beside her on the couch and plucked the glass from her hand to set it on the coffee table.
“Wait. I’ll give it back. Let’s just get more comfortable.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Uh-uh. You look like a woman who needs some cuddlin’.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Come on. Let me be your teddy bear.”
Ellie laughed, then gasped when he plucked her up and settled her across his lap. She stiffened a little, no doubt noting his hard-on poking her delicious ass. But then she settled back in his arms and quietly watched him as he put the glass of false courage back in her hand. “Here, sweetheart. Take another sip and tell me all about it.”
As the story unraveled, he got pissed all over again but the guy was history now so he reined in his anger and concentrated on her. Tough work considering the way her soft, delicious body was snuggled up against him.
She sniffed a little then knuckled a tear from her cheek. He wished she wouldn’t cry. Damn woman broke his heart.
“So, um, guess I blew it.”
“Fuck that! He blew it if he couldn’t realize what a good woman you are.”
“What does being a good woman have to do with anything? God!” She rolled her eyes and gave him a scathing look. “I’ve seen the sex kittens who’ve tromped in and out of here over the past two years and don’t tell me you guys are playing cards or something. Or having funner-than-fun missionary sex. Those women didn’t look like the missionary type to me. Remember the hunk calendar that charity put out last year, Mr. April? Hot Hunks of the Dallas Fire Department? Jeez. Our street looked like a parking lot after that one. All those women showing up wearing nothing but big red bows and smiles. What in the hell would you know about anything?”
“I know a whole lot actually.”
Ellie snorted and he had to laugh. Once again he took the glass and set it aside. She went very still when he looked straight into her eyes and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Let me show you.”
“Shh. Don’t you know I’m dying to kiss you?”
Monday, December 21, 2009
The carols are playing, the lights are twinkling and erotic romance authors are drinking a little too much mulled wine - yup, you can be damn sure it's the holidays! And I love it, every single tinsel-y part of it. The greeting cards, the food and the family time. Gathering together with people you love - some of whom you haven't seen since last year, it's magical. And for most of us, 2009 hasn't been the easiest year so we most definitely deserve a wonderful holiday (and my fingers are crossed for snow!).
My Santa list is short this year - just one item. But it's an item I've been lusting after since I first discovered ebooks. It's an ereader. And it's so darn cool! I'm not a gadget person, but even I was excited when I was playing with all the settings and the buttons in the store. Finally I can shift my library of ebooks from my poor laptop onto this genius invention and then I can have every ebook I own at my fingertips whenever, wherever. It's been a long time coming, but it was worth the wait I think.
My latest release, Getting Hers, isn't a Christmas story but it does center around a woman who finally gets what's been top of her Santa list for years. And boy, did she deserve it!
Enjoy the excerpt and I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, no matter what you celebrate!
Best wishes for 2010,
Ava Rose Johnson
Parker Stevens has one golden rule – never mix business with pleasure. But when Melanie, his curvaceous secretary whose sultry red lips turn him to stone, announces she’s leaving him, he’s finally free to claim what he’s craved since she first sashayed into his office six years ago.
Melanie’s been in love with her charismatic boss since the beginning and when a sudden blackout traps them in an elevator together, fantasy finally becomes reality. Parker brings her darkest
desires to the fore, driving her from climax to climax. How on earth can she leave him now?
She had the full red lips men dreamed about, the mouth that belonged on a guy’s cock. Her heavy breasts and rounded ass formed a perfect body that could bring a grown man to his knees. One whiff of her light scent of honeysuckle could turn Parker Stevens’ cock to stone.
And she was leaving him.
With a low growl of discontentment, Parker forced his gaze back to the report on his desk that required his urgent attention and tried to forget about his delectable PA who stood behind the glass wall that separated his office from hers.
His soon to be ex-PA, that is. After six years by his side, Melanie Rainer was shifting onto an entirely new career path, one that would see her selling sexy lingerie and sex toys to the people of Austin, Texas. A damn fine choice of career as far as he was concerned. But he’d be damned if he said he wouldn’t miss her, if he said he didn’t mind the fact she was leaving him.
She’s not leaving you, you asshole. She was moving on with her life. He knew better than anyone that Melanie Rainer was wasted as his secretary. She’d go far, no doubt about it.
His gaze flickered back to where Melanie was bent over the copying machine. With her sweet ass high in the air, it was all he could do to hold back a groan.
She straightened and walked to his open door. “Looks like this thing is broken, sir,” she said, slightly breathless as she jerked her thumb toward the copier. “I’ll call the company.”
“Hang on,” he said, getting to his feet, urgent report be damned. “Let me see if I can fix it.” He crossed the room, tried to ignore her scent that got him all worked up. Today, he caught a hint of something sweet, coconut. A new shampoo maybe? As he followed her to the machine, he glanced at the back of her head, noting the severe updo that had been Melanie’s choice of hairstyle since she’d first started working for Wilson Advertising. Conservative and elegant. Very proper. He didn’t know how many times he’d imagined how her blonde hair would feel sliding through his fingers, all silky and thick. Or how many times he’d imagined digging his hands in her hair, clutching the smooth strands as her mouth went to town on his cock.
More times than he cared to admit, that’s for sure.
As her soft voice prompted him, he looked from her hair to her beautiful face and stuffed his hands in his pockets as his pants suddenly tightened. “It’s the bottom tray, gotta be.”
She swiped a stray wisp of hair out of her face and shook her head. “I checked it.”
He grinned. “Well then, let me check again.” He leaned over and grabbed the handle for the bottom tray. As soon as he pulled it out, he felt the catch. “Paper jam.” He reached in and grabbed the misbehaving piece of paper from where it was stuck at the back of the tray. “Here,” he said, straightening with the crumpled page in hand. “After six years, you’d think you’d be able to figure that one out by now.”
Her answering blush had his cock straining further. It always went this way. He made a joke, teased her about anything, and the prettiest flush rose in her cheeks. And he nearly came in his pants. Even after all this time, it was still crazy to him that just the color of this woman’s cheeks could affect him so damn much.
“Fine,” she conceded, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “Guess if I haven’t gotten it by now, I never will.”
“Ah, I’m just kidding,” he assured her, taking a step back to put some distance between them. He’d always thought that one of these days he’d lose control of his barely wielded-in lust and throw her over the desk, but so far he’d kept his desire on a short leash. The line between business and pleasure was a thick, unyielding one in his opinion. He’d never had a relationship with a colleague, not even a fling. But no one had ever tempted him the way Melanie did.
“Maybe your new secretary will get the hang of this better than I have,” Melanie said, turning back to the copying machine.
New secretary? He didn’t want a new secretary. The only woman he wanted doing his copying was her. His copying and a whole lot more.
“I doubt that, darlin’,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. At the endearment, the color in Melanie’s cheeks deepened and he smiled. How could a woman be so adorable and so sexy at the same time? “You’re the best thing about this place.”
Friday, December 18, 2009
NOTE: In honor of my release day, I will be giving away a copy of this book to one commenter and I'll announce the winner MONDAY! So yeah...you have the weekend to check things out! :-)
Today is happy release day for ME! YAY! Edge of Nowhere, the fourth book of the High Plains Shifters series is out today and I'm psyched. Just hope fans of the series like it. Lately, I've really gotten into writing shifters. Don't know where that came from really but it has been an incredible journey going from contemporaries to paranormals. Maybe I like the idea of building a world where I can do any thing I please, create my own rules. Who knows exactly what the appeal is but I'm loving it. I hope to have more of these stories to come but please tell me if you are getting sick of them. I'd hate to kick a dead horse here. So far, readers seem to really like them so I guess we'll see. Already have ideas for two more stories, one featuring Sara's sister Katalin from Edge of Nowhere and one featuring Dallas lycan pschiatrist, Dee Santos and Cloverfield lycan, Tobias Mann. So don't be shy. Share your thoughts. What Cloverfield character deserves his or her own story? Inquiring minds and all that!
I think the first shifter story I read and fell in love with was Sherrilyn Kenyon's Night Play and of all the "hunter" stories it remains on of my favorites. Do you remember that one? It featured Vane and Bride (one of the BEST heroines ever). There are two scenes in that book that stand out to me. The scene where Vane takes Bride to a restaurant and is appalled when she only wants a salad! Restaurant staff (and Vane) treat her like a queen while the ass of an ex-boyfriend and his skinny date are stewing in the lobby. HA. Justice! Hm. I think I need to re-read that one. What are some of your favorite shifter stories?
Here's a blurb of Edge of Nowhere (available for purchase today at Ellora's Cave)
Buy it HERE!
Book 4 in the High Plains Shifters series.
From the moment Cactus Mackey rescues Sara Farmer from outlaw wolves, he knows she belongs to him—and he’s more than ready to mess up some sheets with the sassy female. But she has secrets and wants to run. Infuriating woman! He might have to tie her to his bed but he’s not about to give up until she belongs to him, body and soul.
As danger chases her, Sara knows it’s a huge mistake to fall head over heels for the sexy lycan cowboy from Wolf Creek Ranch. A single touch from this shockingly seductive man melts her like butter under the hot Texas sun, and has her yearning for impossible things. The man is big trouble to her heart and running may no longer be an option.
“Don’t let me go.”
Cactus went still at the whispered demand. The woman’s lips moved against his throat and just that simple touch had sensation rocketing through his body to settle in his cock. She’d been traumatized enough and he hated like hell that holding her this way made him hard enough to hammer nails but it couldn’t be helped. He’d been semi-erect since the moment he’d first clapped eyes on her. The instant attraction caught him off guard but then, was a man ever really prepared for the first moment he met the she-wolf who was destined to be his mate?
He settled his cheek against her tousled blonde curls and instinctively tightened his arm around her. Her name was Sara and he and others from the Wolf Creek Pack of Cloverfield, Texas had just saved her and her sister, along with Rayne Poteet, from a gang of rogue lycans. The sorry fucks made it their business to steal unmated she-wolves from the safety of their homes.
Except this woman, Sara, didn’t have a home.
Hell if she didn’t. Her home was with him.
“I won’t, darlin’. Not in this lifetime.”
Cactus sat in the backseat of the big duely double cab truck with his charge safely curled on his lap. He lifted his head from Sara’s hair and spoke over the roar of the engine. “How much longer until we’re home, Gabe?”
Cloverfield’s sheriff, who was driving them home, caught his eye in the rearview mirror. The big lycan was steering with one hand and holding Sara’s sister, Kate, close to his side. Cactus watched the big, gruff wolf’s hand stroke comfortingly over Kate’s body as she huddled against him. “About half an hour or so,” he murmured. “Almost there.”
Following behind them on the narrow stretch of twisted highway was a van full of the criminal lycans and their leader, Selena. Tonight full pack justice would be handed out to the lot of them. There would be little chance of escape for this bunch and the bloodthirsty half of his nature, his beast, would relish the chance to end their reign of terror.
Cactus returned his attention to the woman in his arms. Earlier, he’d lifted her up and carried her from the maze of old RVs and mobile homes where the captives had been held and settled her in the backseat of the truck. No one had questioned him but then, no one would dare. He wasn’t the kind of man who put up with interference from others. Cactus Mackey was a two-hundred-year-old lycan and old enough to handle his own affairs just fine. He settled back to look at the woman who he knew was his mate.
“How are you feeling?”
Her answering sigh almost broke his heart. She gave him a single look from eyes the color of Texas bluebonnets then closed them. Lowering her cheek to his chest, she settled her hand there too. Her fingers moved restlessly against his pecs and Cactus caught his breath. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll get you home soon. I’ll tuck you in nice and tight and make sure you rest up.”
“Sounds nice,” she whispered. “Tell me your name.”
“Cactus. Cactus Mackey.”
Again, that little sigh. “Funny name.”
He smiled. “What’d you expect? I’m a Texan.”
Sara shifted in his lap and his cock tightened. Gods! She had to feel the damn thing prodding her sweet, nicely plump ass. His balls went hard. Fighting off the powerful urge to fuck her right here in front of the gods and everybody was suddenly the hardest challenge he’d ever faced. Literally. But Cactus wasn’t a man who took advantage of wounded creatures and Sara was wounded, for sure. Downright shocky. Whatever had possessed him to drag her into his lap that way? Damn it! She’d been hurt, traumatized and emotionally battered. He’d felt the trembling of her body and needed to comfort her so he didn’t think twice about pulling her into his lap. She’d needed to know he represented safety and that she and her sister would be cared for in this town he called home.
“I’m Sara Farmer.”
Cactus tightened his hold and breathed in her scent. It wrapped around him like a benediction. Mine. Mine. Mine. The words whispered through his mind and he wondered if she felt it too.
“You banged up a bit?”
“I was but I heal pretty quickly for being unmated.”
Among their kind unmated females were slower to heal injuries than a full-fledged lycan. Until she consummated things with her mate and finally released her wolf, it would be that way. He didn’t respond but glanced out the window of the truck and watched the miles of desert flash by as they motored their way deep into west Texas. Some might not find the country pretty but to him, the flat prairie with its buttes and plateaus was heaven. His kind had fought the Comanche and Apache Indians generations ago claiming the land as theirs. They’d built their homes, ranches and businesses with sweat and hard work and had won Texas independence from Mexico. Cactus had been one of many of Cloverfield’s lycans to fight side by side with others to build Texas into a force in this burgeoning country.
“She asleep?” The rumbling question came from Gabe and Cactus glanced down at his charge.
“So is Kate. Poor little thing.” The comment seemed strange coming from the burly lycan who wore an air of suppressed violence around him like an aura. “Figure we should take them to the ranch.”
Cactus swallowed the denial that rushed to his lips. He wanted Sara with him but knew Gabe was right about that. Quinn, their lupa and wife of their alpha, Joe McKinnon would take care of them for the time being until it was decided what was to be done with the kidnapped sisters. They needed the care that only a woman could offer. Gods knew, he didn’t know shit about that stuff. Both Sara and Kate had said they hadn’t been assaulted but maybe they didn’t want to speak the truth to a bunch of rough-looking men.
His belly knotted.
If any of those rogues had laid a finger on Sara there would be hell to pay. No doubt about it.
“So what do you think, Cactus?” Gabe prodded, catching his gaze once again in the rearview mirror.
Cactus nodded. “Yep, I reckon that would be best.”
Later he spotted the familiar landscape that included lines of fence that days before he’d been repairing along with Dusty, another Wolf Creek cowboy. The spread was huge, dominating most of the area around Cloverfield. The only ranch that came close belonged to Rayne’s dad, Angus Poteet, and these days he farmed windmills more than he raised cattle.
Huge limestone pillars rose up in the distance signaling their approach to the ranch. They sat on opposite sides of the entry road, like sentinels. Gabe took a left through the gates and satisfaction sank tender claws into his heart as he thought of his modest brick house where a nice hot shower and fresh coffee were waiting. He glanced down at the still sleeping Sara and wondered what she’d think of the home he’d built. Hell, who was he kidding? His decorating skills were sadly lacking. In fact, the last woman who’d been in his place admitted with a sniff that he decorated like a man.
Sara shifted on his lap and Cactus studied her features in repose. Her face was a neat, pretty little oval, her lips were full and her nose was small with an obstinate little tilt at the very end. If this had been a better time, he might’ve kissed her there or traced the line of barely visible freckles that marched across the bridge. He already knew she was soft and curvy since most of those lush curves were pressed intimately against his own body.
He wanted inside this woman so much he could practically taste it.
The truck pulled to a stop in front of the ranch house, a huge two-story limestone structure that had been built years before the battle of Texas Independence, and saw Quinn McKinnon and their housekeeper, Maria, standing on the porch. The pack’s lupa was a beautiful woman, tall, blonde and curvy enough to make a wolf’s mouth water. She was also intelligent and funny. Joe adored her and so did the pack. As she marched across the front yard toward them, he noted the look of worry on her face.
Just then, Sara blinked up at him.
“We’re home,” he said.
Little lines formed between her brows as she frowned. “Home?”
“My home. Yours too, I reckon.”
Her hands went to her face for a quick rub before she pushed her tangled hair back. She glanced out the window and Cactus felt the fine tremor that swept her body. Tenderly, he pulled the blanket closer around her and smiled. “It’ll be okay. Quinn has been waiting for you.”
More alert, she looked frantically toward the front seat “Katie? Katie, are you okay?”
Silence fell. Finally Gabe spoke up. He’d stepped from the cab of the truck and was reaching in for Sara’s sister. “She’ll be okay. Don’t you worry. She’s just in shock.” He lifted her blanket-covered body and tucked her against him. “Figure she’ll talk when she’s ready.”
Cactus got out of the truck prepared to lift Sara into his arms but she drew back and looked at him. “I can walk.”
“Honey, you’re barefoot. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“No, you’re not.” He wasn’t about to stand there arguing so he lifted her up, despite her protests. Quinn and Maria began to fuss as they followed him and Gabe up the steps and into the house. The instant they were inside, Sara wiggled to get free. Reluctantly, Cactus set her on her dirty, bare feet grabbing her shoulder to steady her as she staggered a bit. When she’d regained her footing she raced across the room and went to her knees before her sister, whom Gabe had settled on a big leather sofa.
Sara reached for her hands and stared into her face. Cactus noted that despite a slight variation in the shades of blonde in their hair, the sisters were almost identical. For the first time in awhile, he felt a flash of alarm at the vacant expression on Katie’s face. Gabe stood nearby, a muscle working in his strong jaw.
“Kati-did, talk to me,” Sara encouraged. “You’ve been so strong. Don’t leave me now. Come on.”
Still Katie didn’t speak. She looked out on the world with a vacant stare and Cactus watched in horror as tears fell from Sara’s eyes to roll slowly down her cheeks. “It has all been too much, hasn’t it?” she whispered. “You’ve been so strong. I’ve been so proud of you. We handled the problem with Dad, didn’t we? We got away. You and me. We did it together. This other thing was nothing after that.” Sara choked and drew her sister into her arms. Turning her face into Katie’s hair, she whispered a savage command. “Stop it! Don’t go away! I mean it, Katalin!”
Questions coalesced in Cactus’ mind. What the fuck was going on? The urge to protect Sara and her sister held him in its grip and, for the first time in over a century, he felt utterly helpless. He hated it.
He stepped forward wanting to do something, wanting to discover what the hell she meant by her little speech but Quinn caught his gaze and shook her head. His lupa went to the pair and she gave Gabe a look.
“Cactus!” Gabe’s voice broke the spell.
Understanding, he gently drew Sara to her feet and pulled her against him as Gabe lifted Kate and followed Quinn and Maria up the stairs.
When they were alone, Sara stepped away and turned to face him. Waves of grief rolled from her to him. A tsunami of pain flashed through his system along with an unmistakable electrical charge that sizzled along his flesh.
“Gods!” She choked on the word as her hands went over her mouth. Tears pooled in her beautiful eyes and he couldn’t stand it another fucking minute. He went to her and cupped her face to press kisses on her forehead, her cheeks. Her salty tears dampened his lips and needing to comfort more than he needed his next breath, he settled his mouth on hers. She tasted of tragedy and passion and loss and Cactus drank each emotion, each fear as if he could draw them into himself and save her from feeling them. The blanket had fallen from her shoulders when she’d gone to comfort her sister and now she wore only an oversized tee shirt. Both women had been stolen from their beds so there was nothing unusual in that.
Cactus sent his tongue deep into her mouth, stroking the walls of her cheeks as he tasted her slowly. Drinking her gasping breath, he drew back to nip her bottom lip with his teeth. “You’re safe,” he whispered, shocked at the gruff sound of his own voice. “I won’t let anything happen to either of you. Trust me.”
“I do. I shouldn’t but I do. What is happening between us, Cactus?”
Bending, he pressed his mouth to the slender column of her throat as his hands took a journey over her back. Finally he answered her, his lips moving on her tender flesh. “You’re mine.”
“I am. At least, I think so. Gods! I shouldn’t be feeling this way after all that’s happened.”
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
I know, I know, so many jokes come to mind. Something about which body part men use for thinking … or maybe how many times a minute they think about sex. But seriously, if you’re a woman, haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to be inside a man’s head? For at least a few seconds, just to see what it’s like in there?
When I first started writing m/f erotic romance, I started from the woman’s point of view because, well, that’s what I am. But I like reading stories with both points of view … how else are you going to know how hot the man is for the woman? The first time I wrote from the man’s point of view – it was the strangest feeling. It was like putting on the skin of a wild beast. I found myself holding my body differently while I wrote. I jabbed at the keys. I read lines out loud in a growly kind of voice, and when they had too many flowing phrases I’d hack ‘em to bits.
Okay, I exaggerated at first, to get a feel for it. But men talk more directly. They don’t couch things as much as women do. “If you don’t mind, do you think we could stop at the store on the way home?” No doubt that’s a woman. What would a man say? Most likely, he’d just turn the steering wheel and head for the store.
Writing like a man, I had to think about what men notice in their surroundings. For instance, what looks like a boring hunk of metal to me is an excavator with a front-end loader to my sweetie. Writing from the man’s point of view means stepping inside an
alien world where you know the makes of the cars, but not the names of the flowers. Where a house is “blue,” not teal or sapphire. Where boobs draw your eyes like magnets. Where you don’t notice what people are wearing, unless it’s short and tight.
Of course, these are huge generalizations. Results may vary with individual men. The hero of my new book, “Doll,” is a Maine fisherman. Writing from Dustin’s point of view, I had to make sure his brain was filled with things like fuel prices, engine parts, fish-houses, boats … and of course, how hot Chloe (my heroine) is!
And then there’s the big question I had to ask my sweetie: what does sex feel like for a man? He’s more into action than words, so I had to translate his answer. I hope I did the male point of view justice in “Doll.” One of the best things about being a writer is living in other people’s worlds for a while … especially that fascinating world known as the male mind.
Readers, do you enjoy the female or the male point of view more? Authors, which do you enjoy writing more?
Even a plaything can be pushed too far…
Chloe Barnes thought her marriage to a wealthy politician would be the stuff of fairy tales. Instead, he took advantage of her naiveté and used her as a plaything to fulfill his twisted sexual needs. Ten years is enough. She returns to Bellhaven Island to sell the summer cottage she inherited, hoping the money will buy her freedom—and custody of her daughters.
Fisherman Dustin McDougal never forgot the childhood crush he once had on the fairy-like Chloe. The woman she’s become has a haunted look that brings his feelings back, stronger than ever…with a mature edge. Along with all his protective instincts.
Their passion blows stronger than a Maine nor’easter, awakening Chloe to the joy of true love. Yet it may not be strong enough to free her from the past…
Warning: This title contains politicians doing all sorts of nasty things and flashbacks of male domination. It also features hot sex on a boat, hot sex in an attic, hot sex on a work bench…you get the idea
Juniper Bell lives with her sweetie in a cabin in Alaska with no running water and a spectacular view of glaciers. She wound up in the frozen north after leaving her career as a stressed-out Los Angeles TV writer. Luckily, her love for writing survived the move. She’s been writing erotic romance for three years. “Doll” is her second book. Her first book, “The Extremist,” was published by Liquid Silver Books. Her next release, “Training the Receptionist,” will be released in March 2010 by Samhain Publishing. Visit her website at http://JuniperBell.com, her blog at http://AuthorJuniperBell.blogspot.com, friend her on FaceBook or follow her on Twitter.
Three Wicked Writers, thanks for having me on your blog!
“Even in chains, hope can fly free.”
That’s the tagline of my new book Spirit Within. It opens with a man hanging in chains in a bare stone room. This makes me contemplate my growing list of heroes I’ve tortured. Heroes in chains, heroes with scars, heroes who been done wrong… why do I find them magnificent?
Is it because I’m naïve and romantic and the thought of the human spirit transcending selfish cruelty makes me melt? Is it because strength forged in pain is something most adults can empathize with? Is it because watching a survivor fall in love is all the more poignant, for achieving a future after all seemed lost?
I think it’s all those things. In particular, I think the darkness that comes with near-death experiences is something I will always crave. Heroes and heroines who have ridden that edge are more compelling to me. It’s even better when they are self-aware of their own darkness, and don’t try to deny or hide it. They own it. And that’s how they overcome it.
All does not need to be darkness, but I find myself taken with it lately, maybe because of the winter solstice and all this literal night. How appropriate my darkest book is coming out in the darkest part of the year. For myself, I’ve been rereading dark heroes lately. Poor guys. I love watching them survive their chains.
Maybe next time I’ll write a nice beta boy with a good desk job who vaccuums… Nah.
Mima is the author of 10 fantasy erotic romances. Read excerpts and reviews at www.mimawithin.com.
Spirit Within available HERE
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
First I want to start off by thanking Regina, Kelley and Anne for allowing me to be a guest today! I’m excited to celebrate my seventh release this year. To celebrate I’m giving away a copy of Body Shots to one lucky commenter.
The number one question newbie’s usually ask is - where do you find your ideas. For me it’s mostly music, television and the what-ifs.
In the case of Body Shots it was the what-ifs. Back in high school I dated a drummer in a rock band. Oh we were gonna rule the world. LOL. What did I know at the young age of 15? We broke up a few months after graduation. One day I wondered what happened to my high school sweetheart and imagined what it would be like if we ran into each other now (if I wasn’t happily married).
That’s when the premise for Body Shots was developed. Granted Reed and Sierra find each other ten years later, not the twenty ummm something I’ve been gone. And Reed is a singer, not a drummer, but you get the idea.
Ideas are everywhere if you just open your mind to them.
Body Shots Available TODAY at Ellora's Cave.
Buy it HERE!
Got tequila? Sierra does, and Reed isn’t afraid to use it. He’s determined to do shots on every inch of her skin, but Sierra has insecurities preventing him from exploring intimate areas. Her insecurities won’t stop her from lavishing his body with the heady liquor though.
Ten years ago an accident tore Sierra Allen and Reed Walker apart. Now a chance encounter has them burning for each other. A bottle of liquor and a pool table has this duo ready to quench their thirsts with one night of body shots. But will one night be enough?
“Reed, it’s been ten years. A lot has changed in that time. I’m not the girl who left. I’m not that person anymore.” I’m not the woman you loved, she wanted to scream. Yet she couldn’t deny she still had feelings for him. Ten years hadn’t erased those feelings. How she wished it had. But the truth was she loved Reed as much as she did the day she walked out of his life—for what she believed was forever.
She moved to the side and started to walk away.
Reed grabbed her arm, twisting her around.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Sierra. I know you. I can see the pain in your eyes. And I can also see the love.”
She shivered, hating his ability to read her. Her pain was from the fact she couldn’t stop loving him. She hoped he’d have moved on by now. Married and settled down. But part of her was relieved to know he hadn’t.
His hands pulled her face closer. His lips descended, capturing hers. She didn’t resist. She accepted his kiss. When his tongue invaded her mouth, she parted her lips, allowing him access. She knew she should push him away. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, devouring his mouth hungrily.
His arms enveloped her waist lifting her off the ground. She felt his bulge through his pants. It throbbed against her stomach.
She whimpered. It’d been so long since she felt a man inside her. So long since she had sex. Thoughts of having Reed inside her consumed her. Blinded by desire, she lost her grip on reality. Her legs snaked around his waist.
“Fuck me, Reed,” she whispered between kisses.
His mouth froze.
What the fuck? Why was he stopping? Wasn’t this what he wanted?
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said, before sucking his lower lip into her mouth. She nibbled and released it. “One hundred percent positive.”
Holding onto her ass, he carried her over to the bar. He set her down on a stool, picked up his beer and took a long swig.
“Got any tequila?”
“Behind the bar.” She hitched her thumb back. “Second shelf next to the vodka.”
“Don’t move.” He dragged his lips across hers.
She tapped her fingers against the side of the bar stool, wondering why he needed the tequila. She swiveled the chair around to see what he was doing. He found the tequila easily per her instructions, now he was ransacking the bar.
“Can I help you find something?” Her amusement was only going so far. If he didn’t fuck her soon, she might change her mind.
“Middle of the bar, in that little cooler type thingy. Salt is down near the cash register.”
Maybe a few shots was exactly what she needed to cool her burning skin. His touch electrified her.
He moved around the bar, collecting all the items he needed. Placing them on the counter one by one he asked, “Have you ever done body shots?”
Monday, December 14, 2009
Okay, the Tiger Woods scandal. Am I the only one sick and tired of hearing about this man's personal life?! I know that celebrities are out there in the spotlight all the time. Everything they do impacts their career. Their personal lives are always being gossiped about. That's really nothing new to any of us. If you go to the grocery store you see the magazine covers. The two big topics are always sex and weight gain. It never fails to amaze me how shallow it all is. I could care less how much weight Brittany Spears gained. AND I don't care how she lost it either! I really have no use for that sort of crap. Who has time to read all this fluff? Lately it's the sexcapades of Tiger. Various women are coming out and telling all. *rolls eyes*
What boggles my mind the most is that these people DO have families. Does anyone ever consider the kids?? Tiger has a child. What's going to happen when that child grows up and decides to google her dad's name? I personally wouldn't want to know what goes on behind my parent's bedroom door. Imagine finding hundreds of articles and pictures about your dad and his philandering?!
So many people are weighing on this issue. It just makes me crazy! I don't care what the man did or who he did it with. As far as I'm concerned that's something he, his wife and God need to deal with. What I do care about is the total lack of concern for the children. Doesn't anyone ever think of what this crap could be doing to them? It's all so tacky!
My personal feelings are simple. When I turn on the TV I want to watch a show, a movie, something to take my mind off the horrors of the world. When I watch the news I want to see REAL headlines. How's the economy? What's happening in Iraq? That's the important stuff. The trials and tribulations between Angelina and Brad is just meaningless bullshit to me.
Okay...end of rant. LOL
Now, it's your turn. Does this sort of news impact your life?
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
NOTE: Cindy is offering a free download to one lucky commenter. We'll post the winner tomorrow and get you in touch with Cindy.
First of all, thanks to Three Wicked Writers for having me here today. I’m always happy to stop by whenever I get the chance!
When it comes to the holidays I’m a giant five-year-old. I love the decorations, the carols, the cartoon television specials, and the cookies. And did I mention presents? I love finding just the right gift for just the right person. I LIKE wrapping presents and making them pretty. Of course, I really like getting presents too. Especially well thought-out ones. They don’t have to be big, but they have to be for me. One of my favorites last year was a pair of barrettes—little kiddy ones with black and red skeleton puppies on them. I suspect my husband paid less that five dollars. They make me smile every time I wear them. That is what it’s all about.
So it should come as no big surprise that I also like holiday romances. I sneak them on television this time of year when the dh and the teenage boys aren’t around. White Christmas is still one of my favorite movies: it’s got TWO great romances. Almost every year since I’ve started writing, I’ve done a seasonal story. This year’s comes out today from Ellora’s Cave. I hope you all enjoy my little contribution to the season.
Cindy Spencer Pape
Buy it HERE!
The company Christmas party goes awry in an erotic way when quiet accountant Shelby Carter is magically whisked into a miniature Victorian village with the boss’s gorgeous son Noel Holiday. Noel has always honored the policy against fraternization, but when he’s trapped for several days with sweet, sexy Shelby, he knows it’s time to start breaking the rules.
While exploring the enchanted surroundings, they delve into their deepest fantasies, even acting out scenes from a collection of erotic Victorian postcards. After all, what’s Christmas without a little magic and a whole lot of sexy fun?
Though Shelby’s crazy about Noel, she’s sure he’ll forget all about her once their interlude is over. But Noel has fallen head over snow boots in love with Shelby. Now he just has to convince her that holiday wishes can come true, and his devotion will last beyond their Yuletide Enchantment.
“What all do you have on under here?” he muttered, grinning up at her. “I don’t even know what some of these things are called.”
“Well, from what I figured out earlier, there are two petticoats, one under the hoopskirt and one over it. There’s stockings and garters. Then the bloomers—which I think were really called drawers.”
“And how does an accountant know so much about Victorian wardrobes?” He pulled off the second boot and tossed it over her shoulder. Gently, he ran his hands up her calves over the heavy black stockings.
Shelby felt her face heat. Squeezing her eyes shut, she admitted, “Romance novels. My secret vice.”
His laugh was sexy, not mocking. “Ah, hidden depths. Well, any and all knowledge might come in handy, I guess.” His fingers slid up under the lacy bottom of the drawers to find the garter tied just above her knee. After a few deft tugs, he released the tie and slowly rolled the stocking down her leg and off her foot.
Her breath caught and her pussy practically ached with longing, but she didn’t say a word to rush him. With deliberate intensity, he treated the other leg to the same lingering touch. When both feet were bare, he slid his hands up along her thighs, a wide grin spreading across his face when he discovered that her drawers weren’t sewn together in the middle.
“Easy-access undies,” he said. “Now that’s the first thing that’s been convenient about this whole outfit.” Warm fingers slid into the gap, finding her core. He brushed against her mound, gently tracing her wet, swollen flesh.
“Lie back,” he whispered. Moving her legs farther apart, he pushed her skirts and petticoats up to her waist. She couldn’t see him now because of the hoops, so she closed her eyes, lost in the sensations of his hands gently parting the fabric of her drawers and his soft groan as his thumb rasped along her outer lips.
“So pretty. A natural redhead.” His voice was low and husky and she could feel his warm breath on her thighs. “And that pussy is so pink and plump and glistening. Is all that cream just for me?” He parted her labia and leaned in to lick at her dripping slit.
“Mmm-hmm.” It was the closest to coherent speech she could manage. There was something unbelievably erotic about having him touch her so intimately when they were both wearing so much clothing.
His busy tongue licked and probed at her entrance before moving up to circle her aching clit. Shelby let out a whimpering little cry and grabbed on to the covers to keep from lifting up off the bed. When he slid two big fingers inside her cunt, she canted her hips toward him, deepening the welcome invasion.
“You’re so tight, sweetheart. I’m going to go off like a rocket once I get inside you.” He pumped gently with his fingers, curling them a little to find a spot up inside her vagina that she hadn’t even known existed.
When the rough pad of his finger massaged it, she couldn’t help calling his name.
“That’s it, Shelby. Let it happen. I want to feel you come all over my hand, all over my face.” While his fingers kept up the steady onslaught, he took her clit into his mouth and sucked.
Shelby stopped breathing for just a second as her body coiled like a giant spring. She’d never gone up this fast or this hard before—in her limited experience, orgasms were something a girl had to work for. Apparently not with Noel. He pumped his hand two more times, sucked harder on her swollen nub, and the world shattered around her.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Thanks for coming to blog with us today.
If you were asked if I was an introvert or an extrovert, which would you guess? Most people would guess I was an extrovert, but they’d be dead wrong. Being able to do something doesn’t mean it’s my preferred choice.
It’s largely true that the creative type tends to being introverted. There are those that break the mold, but your average writer is not a party-hearty social butterfly.
It is ironic that, in today’s world, authors--long considered by the IRS as performers akin to singers and actors--are expected to be social creatures. For many people who are introverts, this ranks somewhere between an irritation and terrifying. Which means we become performance artists...actors that should be considered for the Oscar, in some cases.
I’ve found online social networking much more comfortable than face to face or live voice work. Some others even have to pick and choose online types and cannot, for instance, stomach the idea of a chat room environment. That’s one of the many reasons I tell authors to choose something from as many of the subgroupings of online promo as they are comfortable with. If you can’t at least play off enjoying doing it, you can’t do it effectively.
Personally, I am at home in an online networking environment, though the fact that I’m a strong personality and the fact that I am a Mack truck in problem-solving discussions sometimes leads to misunderstandings that frustrate me and the other party involved. I enjoy almost any type of online social medium you can name.
I can take on chat rooms that are unmoderated and no-holds-barred, which some authors run in terror from. Thirteen years plus of being a Navy wife taught me well to put on a good front when I have to, and there is very little someone can say to embarrass me these days.
Still, playing the smartarse hostess with the Navy brothers is vastly different than doing it with a chat room crowd. For one thing, I do have lines that I make sure not to cross in a chat room, even when it seems I’ll say anything and everything to the readers. The readers, fun as some of them are, are not confidants like the brothers are, and there is such a thing as TMI.
Doing live voice (internet radio and like promos) is harder still. Having notes on hand and practicing with friends for likely questions is about the best you can do. It took classes in public speaking, speech writing, and public performance for me to be able to do even a live voice appearance, let alone a public reading or Q&A session.
Face to face promo is something you can either do or you can’t. Many of the more introverted can force themselves to do these sorts of promos and some so convincingly that you might think they really enjoy doing them.
That would be me, in most face to face situations. I’m the writer who carries stuff in my arms, hoping for an excuse not to shake hands, but I can if I have to. I’m the person who shoves one hand in my pocket at public readings or white knuckles the edge of the podium, because that’s how I learned to get through public speaking. I smile convincingly. I laugh convincingly...and honestly, when I do. But somewhere deep inside, I am cringing at being in a crowd. I even do Christmas shopping online, because the crowds in stores make me feel like hives are breaking out all over my body.
It’s not that I don’t like people. Well, admittedly, a lot of people annoy me, simply because they are thoughtless or rude or lack common sense, but in general, I love people. I love talking to people. I just don’t like them pressing in around me, and I prefer to have them come to meet me rather than the other way around.
So, the questions of the day for the authors... How introverted or extroverted are you? What can or can’t you force yourself to do believably?
And for the readers... Have you ever seen an author being introverted, or do you think we all hide it pretty well and deserve the Oscar?
Available NOW at Loose ID
All I Want For Christmas Is You- One of Brenna's rare contemp erotic romances! Two years after losing her fiancé Zach in a car accident, Robin is moving on. She's set her priorities, and one of them is following through with a life plan she and Zach made together...having a baby. It would be best if said child shared some of Zach's genes.
Enter David, Zach's older brother. He's Robin's best friend, her confidant, the one person who won't think she's crazy to do this...she hopes. Since there's no chance the ladies' man will fall for her, she hopes sex with him will stop the dreams where David takes Zach's place.
It's the invitation he's been waiting for, three years of watching Robin with his little brother, then watching her grieve Zach. If only she wanted David for himself and not a convenient sperm donor to conceive his brother's child. Then again, in such close quarters, maybe he'll be able to convince her to something more permanent...if his parents don't catch wind of the whole thing first.
HEA-yes, VIOLENCE-mild, LANGUAGE-graphic, SEX-erotic
Content advisory- BDSM overtones, anal sex
Cover art by April Martinez!
Brenna Lyons wears many hats, sometimes all on the same day: president of EPIC, author of more than 80 published works, teacher, wife, mother... She's a member of ERWA, MWW, IWOFA, WPM, and Broad Universe.
In her first seven years published in novel-length, she's finaled for 11 EPPIES, 3 PEARLS (including one HM, second to Angela Knight), and a Dream Realm Award. She's also taken Spinetingler's Book of the Year for 2007.
Brenna writes in 21 established worlds plus stand-alones (for between 6 and 8 publishers, at any given time), poetry, articles, and essays. She's a bestseller in indie/e fantasy and horror, straight genre and cross-genres thereof. Brenna has been termed "one of the most deviant erotic minds in the publishing world...not for the weak." (Rachelle for Fallen Angels Reviews) Milieu-heavy dark work is practically Brenna's calling card, with or without the erotic content.
She teaches classes in everything from POV studies to advanced editing, networking to marketing.
Brenna enjoys hearing from people who read her work and can be reached at via her site.
Friday, December 4, 2009
I've been wondering about something. Now we've all heard about the recent tribulations of a very famous sports figure. It's all over the tv and newspapers. I'm not going to mention his name because I believe that personal problems should stay personal, ya know? I don't care if you are a celebrity or not...I don't want to know about your marriage troubles. But damn if I'm not shaking my head over something. Why, why, why would a supposedly smart person who jealously guards his privacy send out things on a voicemail or text messages? I don't get it. Don't they realize that a spurned lover will SELL this stuff to tabloids??? Most of us are on loops, we blog and comment and we KNOW that everythis is public these days. I know plenty of people who blab their personal troubles on blogs and loops but would I do it? Oh HELL NO. Yes, privacy is hard to come by these days but I will jealously guard whatever tiny shred of it that I have left.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
I have a confession to make: I am one of many women who didn't understand the appeal of slash for a very, very long time. Comprehending what was hot about watching two men go at it was beyond me. Slash between two women I’ve always found hot, but never got into erotic romance novels between two men.
It actually was not until my favorite fandom pairing arose that I "got" it: it's really about two men whom you find to be hot and whose chemistry you find to be hot that makes it work. It's also about that lovely, perhaps-only-slightly-subconscious desire to be the filling in that sandwich. It is my belief that this is why m/m erotic romance sells well with women who want to appreciate men’s bodies and sexuality and find it to be a turn on.
The genre of m/m erotic romance had gone mainstream recently, and I blame it on the British sci-fi television show known as Torchwood. Its pairing of two of the main characters, Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones, have sold the show for many people who may have never watched it. I personally got into the show because I am a fan of the original show it spun off from, which is Doctor Who. Torchwood broke through a lot of boundaries for the GLBT world with its loose boundaries and definitions of sexuality with its omnisexual main character, Jack.
Often times my writing is inspired by what I read and watch on television, and I write what I consider to be “gender blind” characters for the most part. So far, my books have featured m/f, f/f, f/f/f, f/f/m, m/m, and m/f/m pairings. My scifi/paranormal erotic romance book Dawn of the Seraphs is my entry into the wide, wonderful world of m/m and it definitely won’t be my last! :D
Readers and writers, feel free to sound off! Are you a fan of the m/m genre and if so, why? Do you have any preferences as to associated genres? Do you prefer m/m paranormals, historicals, contemporary?
The winner of Madison's contest yesterday is Analisa! Please email firstname.lastname@example.org
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
As I started writing I fell in love with the town and the men. There's some so incredibly sexy about those confident, strong, alpha men who work hard and have a passion for pleasing their women. Who know how to caress a women with their work-roughened fingers. Who enjoy a cold beer, and the laid back life in small town America.
This is the Malone Brothers. The journey to Last Chance started out with Ty's story in Satisfy Me and now, I'm SO excited that the second book in the Malone Brother's series, Bliss, has hit the virtual bookshelf!
Ethan Malone has had his fair share of women. Life is short and he damn sure plans to enjoy it. When Lindy Bliss starts work at Malone Constructions, he never expected to want her. She’s nothing like the women he usually brings to his bed. Immediately he’s drawn by her quality work on the job, and her sharp, sarcastic tongue. Of course, the way his name hugs Lindy’s breasts in her work shirt has a whole hell of a lot to do with it too. He needs to get the tomboy, with the stripper name out of her faded jeans and tool belt, so he can play with the feminine curves beneath.
Before he loses a finger or two because he’s distracted by his perpetual hard on, Ethan propositions Lindy for a no-holds-barred weekend of sexual pleasure. Once he has her under his roof and in his bed, he isn’t sure he wants to let her out again. Having Lindy beneath him is exactly what he thought it would be…pure Bliss
Lindy ordered her usual Coors Light and added an order of cheesy fries. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation for the grease and beer fest she had planned.
A few minutes later her meal arrived. She wasted no time diving in to savor the fries and cheese on her plate. Behind her, the rickety door creaked open. Loud footsteps crunched across broken peanut shells in her direction. Stuffing another gooey, clump of fries in her mouth she chewed like she hadn’t eaten in days when a familiar scent of freshly cut trees, and the musky smell of a hard-working man swirled around her.
“Been a while since someone fed ya, has it?” Ethan pulled out the bar stool next to her and sat down.
Great. Just my luck.
Lindy finished her bite. “Well, I’ve been so busy picking up the slack for all the meat-heads I work with I hardly have time to do something as trivial as eat. Not used to a woman eating in front of you? I may be thin but I’m not a dry salad kind of girl, like the ones you’re used to, I’m sure.” She pushed another bite in her mouth. This one not as big as the last though.
Rich, hearty laughter erupted from Ethan’s perfect mouth snaked around her, causing goose bumps to pebble up her arms.
“I have to give it to you for your comebacks, Bliss. That one was pretty good. A crock of shit, but funny.”
Lindy downed the rest of her beer in one gulp. “Isn’t it bad enough I have to see you all day at work? Why are you coming into Smokey’s now too?” Ethan and his younger brother Shane did come in from time to time, but they spent most of their time at The Last Chance. Smokey’s was pretty far out of town. Not that Last Chance was all that big to begin with, but she figured the guys liked to hang out closer to town since that’s where they lived.
He gave her a wink and smile. His smile made all the women in town melt like warm butter. It pissed the hell out of her that it worked on her too. Not that she’d let him know it. Before she could think of something smart to say, Smokey walked up.
“I’ll have a bottle of Coors.” Ethan tilted his head toward her. “Bring another light beer out for the lady, too.”
“I can order for myself, Malone.”
“Oh, come on, Bliss. Aren’t ladies supposed to like it when a man orders a drink for them?” The right side of his mouth rose as if he tried to hide his smile.
The man took pleasure in grating on her nerves. She could see it in the light in his sparkling blue eyes. “Only a woman without a brain--like the ones you usually date.”
“Usually, huh? Does that mean we’re on a date now?”
Oh yeah. He was enjoying this. Ethan Malone was the devil himself. He didn’t even try to hide his smile this time.
“I guess I’ll leave you two alone.” Smokey looked at her and winked. She hadn’t even realized he was still there. And what the heck was the wink about? She’d known Smokey since she was ten years old and the man never winked at her.
“Please, you know we aren’t on a date as much as I do. First of all, I don’t date jerks and second, I’m so not your type.”
Ethan took a swig of the beer. “What makes you think you’re not my type?”
“I have eyes.” He licked his lips and watched her. She kind of wished she was his type, which surprised the hell out of her. Honestly, even though Ethan was the hottest thing in a pair of faded jeans and a tool belt, he wasn’t really her type either. It wasn’t too often that Lindy dated, but when she did, the men sure weren’t womanizers. Or alphas, and Ethan was both of those.
“The women I date have eyes, Bliss.”
Lindy tried to hide her smile. “Good one, Malone. You know what I meant. I’m not stacked, flirtatious, and I don’t put out to any man with a six-pack.”
Ethan set his bottle on the bar. “So you’ve noticed my six-pack, huh?”
This time she couldn’t help but laugh. Part of her knew he was serious. The man really did know how hot he was, but that wasn’t his only quality, he had a good sense of humor. Ethan joked around more than anyone she knew.
“You like me.” He leaned toward her. “Admit it, Bliss. You want me just as much as I want you. You might not be my usual type, but you’re damn sexy and I have to tell you, I’m tired of pretending I think otherwise.”
Lindy knew she stared at him open-mouthed, but there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Never in a million years did she expect to hear Ethan Malone come on to her. Hell, they didn’t even get along all that well. But he was right. She wanted him, but was it in her best interest to have him? Being the only woman on the site, she already had to fight for all the guys’ respect. If they found out she was sleeping with Ethan, one of the owners, she’d never live it down. “Listen, Malone.”
Ethan reached up and put a finger to her mouth. “Shh. Don’t even say it. I want you, Lindy Bliss, and when I want something, you can be damn sure I’m not going to give up until I have it.”
What kind of heroes do you like to read about?
At 9:00 PM Pacific time this evening I will draw a name from ALL the commenters and the winner will get a FREE copy of Bliss! The winner will be posted on the blog tomorrow!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Anyway, we found a great deal on a very pretty coat, bought a hat and gloves and naturally, she tried on a few things to 'get ideas'. Afterwards, we checked out New Moon. Yes, definitely Team Jacob here! LOL. All in all, the afternoon wasn't traumatic in any way but I didn't do any actual holiday shopping. Just a lot of looking.
It's funny. I remember how easy Christmas shopping was when my kids were little. Of course, there was always that ONE toy that was virtually impossible to find. I tend to think it's some kind of conspiracy because it has been this way for as long as I can remember. Back in the 80's you couldn't find a Cabbage Patch Doll to save your soul. I was living in Houston at the time (newly married, no kids) and there was such a run on these things that a local radio station filled up a football stadium and flew a plane overhead to "drop" Cabbage Patch dolls to the crowd. Crazy!
Aside from that, I recall that every year we had mountains of gifts under the tree. Little kids gifts are easy and usually cheap so we tended to buy a LOT of stuff. Ever wrapped a gazillion five and ten dollar toys???? The gift wrap and bows was almost as expensive as the darn toys.
These days the pile of gifts isn't so huge and there's an explanation for that. My kids are now grown and the request is usually for 'big ticket' items like electronics, gaming systems, etc. I've been noting all the commercials and print ads for e-book readers and all indicators are that these will be big sellers this year. YAY for us ebook readers and authors!!!! Barnes and Noble has announced they have already sold out of the Nook but are offering certificates for gift giving and promising they will be available after the first of the year. The e-bookwise reader that I have is now marked down to $90. So if you want to 'get your feet wet' with an ebook reader, this is a good opportunity.
Do you start early with the shopping stuff? Or are you a last minute shopper? A good friend of mine does all her shopping on Christmas Eve. It's a tradition at her house doing the mad scramble thing. Yes, I quickly told her that I loved her but she was NUTS!