Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Overthinking....

Don't you hate it when you overthink everything you do? I'm really close to finishing Lover's Moon, the first book in a new series. Now my lovely editor may read this and go BLECH and I'll consider abandoning the whole 'series' idea but at the moment, that's the plan. I have a bit of 'tweaking' to do yet and then the final chapter. This is a longer work and I've carefully woven in a duo of very appealing (at least I think so) sexy heroes who will be featured in subsequent books. I've been sure to see they serve a major role in the current story. I've added strong emotional connections between the hero and heroine, a nasty villain, lots of magical things, etc. but it doesn't matter. The closer I come to finishing the more nerves begin to set in.

Why? At this point in my career I should be brimming with confidence but I'm just NOT. Maybe I'm feeling this way because prior to this book, I've worked with critique partners and I'm flying solo this time. So now I'm on the final chapter and thinking to myself...is this any damn good at all?

Do any of you begin to worry as you approach the end of a piece of work? Or is it just me? This morning I'm trying very hard to battle back the doubts and get in a positive frame of mind. I know that if I DON'T, writing this last chapter will be a struggle. I've heard that artists often don't like to show their work until it's completed but I'm beginning to realize I'm NOTHING like them. I like a little push here and there. A word of encouragement or even someone to say...hm, this isn't working for me so why don't you try X, Y, and Z.


Several years ago, I took my daughter for detailed aptitude testing. This was not long before she was due to start college. I learned a lot about people while going through the 'exit' meeting with her and the counselors at this 'center'. Some people are meant to work with others. Some people naturally take on leadership roles and some folks are meant to follow company guidelines and should probably not work independently. A select group work best alone (scientific researchers, for example). My daughter falls into that category. Now, me? I didn't take the test but I now know for a fact, I don't work at my best when completely alone. I like getting that little nudge from peers, that little 'way to go girl' or that wee bit of advice that might improve what I'm doing.

I know critique partners don't work for everyone. I was willing to try going it alone but hey... it's TOO lonely for me. What do you think? Let's face it, writing a book is a solitary thing but a little solitude goes a hell of a long way.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Things A Woman Should Just Know


Running late again today. We have a winter storm going on and I've been preparing for the power to go out. Been cooking like crazy and getting batteries in flashlights, candles all in place, batteries in the radio, etc.

Anyway, I'm late with a good reason. Survival! lol So if you comment and I don't comment back to you--give it a day or two as I might not have power--at least it's looking that way.

I wanted to do something fun today. I hope you'll all join in and help complete this list. The subject matter leans toward females, of course, but the guys are welcome to jump in with their own observations too.

Here we go...

Things A Woman Should Just Know

1. If you answer the phone and someone from the Jerry Springer Show is on the other end, hang up and go pack your shit. Your relationship is over.


2. If you're going to date someone who is famous—on TV, sports hero, movie star, politician, etc.—be prepared for all scenarios.

a. Plausible deniability of your existence on his part: Carry a kit with you so you can collect sperm samples and make sure you keep the dates straight and the sperm in the fridge.

b. Use your camera phone to take pics of where you are when you’re with him without his knowledge. Get naked pics of him if at all possible. Store said pics on a flash drive

you keep hidden.

c. Never leave the house looking like a damn freak cause sooner or later a camera is going to be in your face and you don’t want to be seen looking like a HAG.


3. If your husband leaves the house and isn’t going to work and comes back home and immediately jumps in the shower? Follow him next time he leaves. Take the camera. Just sayin'.


4. You husband likes to be on the computer in the dark and every time you walk into the room the screen flashes. Check your credit cards. He ain’t buying you roses. Just sayin'.


5. Expect at least one third of your offspring to disappoint you. Chances are you've already had this happen.

6. Never tell a teenager maybe to get them off your back when you really mean no.

7. Don't expect that wonderful new look the hairdresser just gave you to be something you can duplicate.

8. If your husband or boyfriend says "love ya" instead of "I love you", start looking for fresh meat.

9. If your husband gains a new male friend whom he texts way too often, you can bet your ass that man is a woman in disguise. OR he's about to come out of the closet.


10. If you play the "Which person would you run away with if you had the chance?" game, and you mean a celebrity and your spouse says the name of someone you know, pack his shit!

11. Grow your nails long, just in case your other half murmurs some other chick's name in bed. Nails are useful down there. Super glue too.

Adding this little jewel from a comment made by Melissa Bradley. Stop by her blog and check her out. http://melissasimaginarium.blogspot.com

12. If you're his secret affair, you weren't the first, you won't be the last and no, he's not leaving her for you--no matter how many babies you pop out.

And Brindle Chase suggests we can flip these items and make them true from the male POV. Hmmm...well, maybe a couple. Not all surely. Especially that one Melissa brought up. lol And the hair do thing? Nahhh. But maybe one or two, Brindle. http://www.forlorn-hope.net

Okay, that's it for my creative juices today. Got to get a load of laundry out of the dryer and put in another one. Trying to get it all done before the power takes a hike. So post your best advice. Let's us have it. Many thanks to Natalie Dae for her widely known humor and help with this post. And thanks to the commenters. http://nataliedae.blogspot.com

http://tessmackall.com




Saturday, January 8, 2011

Guest Author: Elizabeth Black

Have We Been Snookered?
By Elizabeth Black



Snooki published a novel.

For hermits like me who have been living under rocks and have no idea what a Snooki is, Snooki is a reality TV "star" of a show called "Jersey Shore". I've never seen it. I have no desire to see it. Until recently I'd never even heard of Snooki, whatever it is. Nor did I care.

Until now.

See, Snooki published a novel. And it's getting lots of publicity. Granted, it's not good publicity, but as any ornery child knows, bad attention is better than no attention at all. According to Snooki, she has read only two books – "Twilight" and "Dear John". Her novel, "A Shore Thing", is "a story about a little guidette named Gia who takes her big hair to the Jersey Shore for a summer of drunken love." Sounds like her life story, from what I've learned.

So why am I bothered by this? Because I'm a struggling writer trying to put entertaining books out there. I would love to have the audience celebretrash like Snooki has. She'll probably have great sales if only for the train wreck factor.

As a writer with small presses, my sales aren't ever going to reach J. K. Rowling proportions, but at least Rowling can write. I promote with the best of them but I know I won't reach New York Times bestseller status. I'm realistic. My sales are solid but I would like to see them improve in 2011, especially now that sales of ebook readers have taken off. I have lots of fans and I get fan mail in droves. I'm very happy that people are buying my books and enjoying them.

Yes, I'm jealous. And miffed.

It really chaps my hide that someone like Snooki publishes a novel and is successful at it. It's being published by Simon and Schuster's Gallery Press imprint, so this isn't a fly-by-night publisher or vanity press. Granted, we have to see sales figures but the amount of publicity she's getting is staggering. I counted 39,400 pages for the Google search terms "Snooki novel excerpts". No indie writer can even dream of that kind of publicity. And all for what? Who calls this writing?
"He had an okay body. Not fat at all. And naturally toned abs. She could pour a shot of tequila down his belly and slurp it out of his navel without getting splashed in the face."

"Any juicehead will get some nut shrinkage. And bacne. They fly into a 'roid rage, it is a 'road' 'roid rage."

"Yum. Johnny Hulk tasted like fresh gorilla."

"I love food. I love drinking, boys, dancing until my feet swell. I love my family, my friends, my job, my boss. And I love my body, especially the badonk." (Lizzie's note: "badonk" refers to her shapely ass.)

"Gia had never before been in jail. It wasn't nearly as gritty and disgusting as she'd seen on TV prison shows. The Seaside Heights drunk tank -- on a weekday afternoon -- was as clean and quiet as a church."

"Gia danced around a little, shaking her peaches for show. She shook it hard. Too hard. In the middle of a shimmy, her stomach cramped. A fart slipped out. A loud one. And stinky."
I found another article that includes part of an entire brain-numbing scene. I can't post the whole thing or your brain will bleed out your eyes.
A hot guido was staring at her - in a nice way - from across the room.
Gia smiled at him. His back against the wall, he stood just off the dance floor, thumb in a belt loop. His chest muscles strained the fabric of his black tank top. It fit across a tummy that was hard and flat enough to cut salami on. No tattoos, which meant plenty of empty space on his arms to ink PROPERTY OF GIA. He started as if he could see through her dress, right down to the zebra-print bra and thong set underneath.
“I found him,” Gia said to Bella, draining her Slippery Nipple in one long suck…
I wonder who will read the audio book? Brad Dourif? Patrick Stewart? I'd love to hear Patrick Stewart say "badonk" and "bacne". Or "Slippery Nipple". I'm getting wet just thinking about it.

I'm not exactly Hemingway. I write naughty books. Erotic romances. Erotica. Trashy novels. Bodice rippers. Smut. But I write good smut. I know lots of erotic romance writers who write smut so well their books singe every time you turn the page. I develop realistic and loveable characters, create engaging plots, and wield the written word like a sword. So do plenty of other writers including those outside the erotic romance genre. Yet we won't get the attention Snooki and her "novel" are getting.

Are we doing something wrong? Have writers trying to do their best to turn a word been snookered?

Maybe I should quit my day job writing for sex toys companies, and become a dominatrix full time. I hear the money's great. Try the super kinky-bordering-on-sick stuff. And then blog about it until I go viral. And instead of writing the novels and short stories I write now, which are character, plot, and relationship-based, aim for stuff so nauseating I get prayer vigils. And include descriptive words like "badonk" and "bacne". And make fart jokes. Gotta have the fart jokes. Then I'll be hated and ridiculed on nearly 40,000 web sites. But I'll have a bestseller and I'll laugh all the way to the bank.

Nah. I'd rather stick with what I write now. My audience is smaller, but my readers are loyal and they don't ridicule me. I'm very happy with what I have and I don't want to turn into Snooki. Please God, don't let me turn into Snooki!!


My new book "Indiscretions Vol. 2: The Mile High Club and Room Service" comes out January 14, 2011. Romance Divine is the featured publisher at Rainbow EBooks
from January 14 - 16, 2011. This book of mine will be featured. "Indiscretions Vol. 2" is much hotter and kinkier than my other books. It's got it all: m/m, m/m/f, bondage, anal, airplane sex, hotel sex. I promise the words "bacne" and "Slippery Nipple" don't appear
anywhere in the pages. LOL! I will continue the series with the same characters as well as others in "Indiscretions Vol. 2 – The Convention" (tentative title). Look for it in a few months.

Here's the link to Rainbow Ebooks:

http://www.rainbowebooks.com/store/

Head on over there during Romance Divine's featured days that weekend and get 20% off my new release Indiscretions Vol. 2 - The Mile High Club and Room Service. And get 20% off my other Romance Divine titles as well.

Here's a blurb for your enjoyment:

Elizabeth Black continues her ribald Indiscretions series with "Indiscretions: Vol. 2". These two short stories follow the amorous adventures of Caryn as she wings her way across country to a writer’s convention. In "The Mile High Club", Caryn has a high altitude fling with the sexy Jeremy. Their encounter isn’t without comic complications, but a very good time is had by all. The action continues in "Room Service", when Caryn and Jeremy meet a mutual friend and the sexual action is three-times hotter!

Friday, January 7, 2011

Back on the Diet

This week, I imagine 90% of us are now on diets, are giving up smoking, getting more exercise, and generally doing the resolution thing. I’m on a diet, have been since the day after Christmas Day 2009, but it isn’t really a diet as such but a lifestyle change. I eat more healthily, take more exercise, although…yes, I slipped along the way a few times and didn’t meet last year’s target of being a UK size 12 by the summer 2010. I got into the size 12 but couldn’t do the jeans up. Bummer! So, my target is back in place, and on 1st January I needed to lose 26 pounds to reach my target by the summer of 2011. This isn’t such a bad amount, because I thought that losing a pound per week was acceptable and easily done. So far, since 1st January, I’ve lost 5 pounds. I realise that by getting back on the right track and cutting out all the naughty things I ate over Christmas, plus going back to drinking loads of water, those 5 pounds are probably just water loss. And I also know my body well enough after keeping a close eye on it this past year, that it has a habit of losing a chunk of weight then staying the same for weeks after.
Last year I did the Atkins diet, eating a portion of meat and low carb vegetables for every meal. I needed to get a massive chunk of weight off before I could change my eating habits and go on a “normal” diet. I lost 56 pounds then my body wouldn’t play the game anymore. It got used to the exercise, used to the food, and nothing worked in getting the last 26 pounds off.
This year I’ve gone down a different route. I’m eating lots of fruit, a “normal” meal at dinner time, and cutting out the naughty foods like cakes and whatever. I want to see if this diet change will fool my body and I can finally get those last stubborn pounds off. Then I have the task of keeping them off.
Why did I want to lose weight? Well, I’d gone into “comfortable” mode, where Hubby didn’t—and still doesn’t—mind what size I am. He married me for me, not what I look like. But, the day after Christmas Day in 2009, I stood scoffing something or other, and happened to glance down at myself. I looked awful. I put the food in the bin right away and said: No more! Also, I’d noticed I was going to need to go up a clothing size if I kept on, and already I was in a size I wouldn’t like to admit, plus I’d been getting out of breath. Quite simply, it frightened me. The weight was making my heart struggle to cope.
I feel healthier now. I feel more positive that I have a lot more years ahead of me. And I finally feel I’m getting back the body I was meant to have before I had 5 kids and let myself pile on the weight. I control food now, it doesn’t control me. And it feels bloody good!
Are you on a diet? If so, please share what works for you. I’m interested to know for when I hit that dreaded plateau again and need to trick my body into shedding more!

The winner of my book bundle from last week is LORETTA CANTON! Please could you email me with your 5-book selection at nataliedae@googlemail.com You can choose your books HERE and HERE. Congrats!

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Hot Hunks!

I'm sorry for not being around lately! It's been hectic around my house. And I've been dealing with some personal issues as well. Let's just say the new year has not started out great. So to help cheer myself up a bit, I've found these guys.

Drake, has been giving me daily full body massages...

AJ has been serving me tropical drinks and gourmet meals while I read on my Nook

Jace enjoys tucking me into bed at night, and of course he insists on cuddling...
and Jonas (the hero in my current WIP) has been a great inspiration for my naughty muse...


Um, I feeling better, but I may need LOTS more of this *therapy*!
 LOL

So, tell me, has your new year been a good one?

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Let's go to the movies!




I usually don't go to the movies much. Maybe a couple times a year. We rent movies every once in a while, but I'm just not a big TV person. There are a few upcoming movies that I can't wait to see though! The first is Red Riding Hood. I don't know what it is, but this movie looks great, and sexy too! Plus, Gary Oldman? Umm, yep. I'm there! This looks like a really cool remake of the classic story of Little Red Riding Hood.



Seyfried plays Valerie, a bеаυtіfυƖ young woman torn between two men. Shе іѕ іn Ɩονе wіth a brooding outsider, Peter (Shiloh Fernandez), bυt hеr parents hаνе arranged fοr hеr tο marry thе wealthy Henry (Max Irons).

Unwilling tο lose each οthеr, Valerie аnԁ Peter аrе рƖаnnіnɡ tο rυn away together whеn thеу learn thаt Valerie’s older sister hаѕ bееn kіƖƖеԁ bу thе werewolf thаt prowls thе ԁаrk forest surrounding thеіr village.

Fοr years, thе people hаνе maintained аn uneasy truce wіth thе beast, offering thе creature a monthly animal sacrifice. Bυt under a blood red moon, thе wolf hаѕ upped thе stakes bу taking a human life.

Hungry fοr revenge, thе people call οn famed werewolf hunter, Father Solomon (Gary Oldman), tο hеƖр thеm kіƖƖ thе wolf. Bυt Solomon’s arrival brings unintended consequences аѕ hе warns thаt thе wolf, whο takes human form bу day, сουƖԁ bе аnу one οf thеm.

Aѕ thе death toll rises wіth each moon, Valerie bеɡіnѕ tο suspect thаt thе werewolf сουƖԁ bе someone ѕhе Ɩονеѕ. Aѕ panic grips thе town, Valerie discovers thаt ѕhе hаѕ a unique connection tο thе beast–one thаt inexorably draws thеm together, mаkіnɡ hеr both suspect…аnԁ bait.


This one is out now, but limited release. I LOVE Ryan Gosling and this looks like a really powerful movie.




BLUE VALENTINE is a story of love found and love lost told in past and present moments in time. Flooded with romantic memories of their courtship, Dean and Cindy use one night to try and save their failing marriage. Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams star in this honest portrait of a relationship on the rocks.

While Cindy has blossomed into a woman with opportunities and options, David is still the same person he was when they met, and is unable to accept either Cindy’s growth or his lack of it. Innovatively structured, the narrative unfolds in two distinct time frames, juxtaposing scenes of first love and youthful sexuality, with those of disenchantment and discord.

I am Number Four


A teenage fugitive with an incredible secret races to stay one step ahead of the mysterious forces seeking to track and destroy him in this sci-fi action thriller from director D.J. Caruso (Disturbia, Eagle Eye). With three dead and one on the run, the race to find the elusive Number Four begins. Outwardly normal teen John Smith (Alex Pettyfer) never gets too comfortable in the same identity, and along with his guardian, Henri (Timothy Olyphant), he is constantly moving from town to town -- the perpetual new kid in a series of strangely familiar schools. Despite the fact that his nomadic lifestyle has made it difficult to form meaningful connections, John experiences the joy of first love with a beautiful young woman (Dianna Agron) and begins to unlock his full potential after arriving with Henri in a small Ohio town. With each passing day, John gains a stronger grasp on his extraordinary new powers, and his bond to the beings that share his fantastic fate grows stronger.

Are there any upcoming movies you can't wait to see?

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

A Swarm of Locusts


Has anyone been out and about since the holidays were over? I swear...yesterday, my daughter and I headed out to spend some of her Christmas money and it was like a swarm of locusts had attacked every store we stopped in! She is still working on setting up her cute little kitchen in her apartment and we were on the hunt for "gadgets". You know what I mean...potato peelers, pot scrubbers, can openers. Exciting stuff. At first glance that kind of thing is pretty cheap but damn, add up about twenty of these items and it gets pretty expensive. She had a nice gift card to a local department store and she picked up silverware (for four) along with four glasses. We stood in line for awhile to pay for the silverware and glasses. A lady was in front of us who had about a gazillion Christmas ornaments. She quibbled over the price of each one which required a 'price check' by the poor girl ringing everything up. I swear! Took about ten minutes to find what we needed and another 30 minutes standing in line to PAY. Jeez! No wonder I hate shopping!

Today I'm staying home and writing. At the moment, I'm working on Lover's Moon and have roughly thirty pages or so to write. Lots of menage sex coming my way. Fun living vicariously through our characters, isn't it? Lover's Moon is a spin off of my Feral Moon (Ellora's Cave) and I've been busily working in sexy male characters who will each have their own stories plus advancing the plot of Lover's Moon. Starting a new series can be FUN but SCARY. The series is set in a place in Central Texas called Sanctuary where panther families live and hunt in peace. Staying close together protects them from the outside world and keeps the secret of what they are, well, SECRET! Though these stories will be largely male/female there will be some menage in each one.

There's nothing better than beginning something fresh and new!

In other news: I was tickled to pieces to learn two of my books are nominated for CAPA awards given each year by The Romance Studio. Jaguar Hunger (Ellora's Cave) is nominated in the best erotic paranormal catagory and Drilled (a Cougar Challenge story from Ellora's Cave) got a nod in the erotic contemporary catagory. Winners will be announced in February. There are some incredible authors (and many friends) on this list and I congratulate each one of them. It's amazing to be listed alongside them.

And MORE news: Riding the Edge (books three and four of my High Plains Shifters series) is now available in PRINT. So if you didn't get that nifty ebook reader for Christmas, you can read this one the old fashioned way. And for fans of the series, look for Lawman (book five) this year.

Buy it HERE



Ringo's Ride
Rayne dreamed of the day Ringo would claim her as his mate, changing her into the lycan she is meant to be. One touch from his hands burns her with a flame hot enough to scorch the Texas plains. But the moody lycan has made it clear he doesn’t want her. That’s just too damn bad! The sexy Latino lycan belongs to her and she aims to claim him, no matter what it takes.

Ringo hides the pain of his tortured past behind a menacing sneer. Learning that Rayne is meant to be his mate is unwelcome news. She deserves better than to be saddled with a man with his checkered past. It isn’t until she is taken from him that he knows she is the only woman who can heal his battered soul.


Edge of Nowhere

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.



An Excerpt From: RINGO’S RIDE

Copyright © REGINA CARLYSLE, 2009

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



Ringo Ramone raced through the hot Texas night as if someone had lit a fire under his ass. He dodged rocks and prickly cactus, ignoring the heat that singed the pads of his paws, too furious to notice. Rage beat at him until he practically shook with it. He sniffed the ground in an effort to pick up the trail of the rogue lycans who’d stolen his mate.

His mate!

Fuck!

He’d always suspected Rayne Poteet might be the one but he hadn’t wanted that. For years he’d watched her from a distance, drawn to her sweetness, her beauty. He’d slunk around in the shadows, fighting off the feelings that twisted tightly in his chest every time she so much as spoke to him. He wasn’t an emotional man and didn’t plan on changing for any she-wolf, not even Rayne. Besides, she was too good for the likes of him. He was a motherless son of a rat-bastard traitor and that’s all he’d ever be.

The huge black wolf stopped and panted. How much ground had he covered since leaving the ranch house to hunt down the men who’d taken her? Tonight they’d had a barbecue for the town of Cloverfield. It had been a happy time and, Lord knew, he’d seen too few of those in his many years. His alpha Joe McKinnon, and Quinn, the daughter of their former alpha, were celebrating their Consummation Ceremony when it all went down. Like a bunch of raving idiots, the males of the pack had been lured by rogue lycans to the south pasture while others had circled back to the ranch to steal away their unmated females.

Rayne!

She was his predestined mate. He hadn’t known it until tonight and then, in one instant of stupidity, she’d been taken before he’d had time to absorb it all. Spotting a grove of mesquite in the distance, he loped over, shifting as he ran. Naked, dripping with sweat, he leaned against the rough bark and closed his eyes. Ringo couldn’t help it. The look on her face tonight as the knowledge of their empathic connection, the proof they were a meant to be a mated pair, had gone through him like a blast from a flamethrower. Her pretty, sherry-colored eyes had gone wide as energy sizzled between them.

His cock thickened as he remembered.

Damn his horny ass!

This wasn’t the time.

Shifting back into his wolf, he took off again, scenting the air. Off in the distance, he spotted an old line shack at the edge of the ranch property. If worse came to worst, he could bring her to it. It was kept fully stocked with provisions.

Ringo continued on, running endlessly across the empty stretch of prairie. Suddenly, he spotted it. A low campfire was flickering in the predawn darkness, shooting up occasional sparks. Laughter. Male laughter. His heightened senses picked up the sound of Rayne’s breathing. It was accelerated.

A truck was parked at the very edge of the meager light and two naked men sat on the ground several yards from where Rayne lay, trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Her clothes were a mess and there were scratches on her legs. Her copper-colored hair was spread across the dusty ground like a pool of sunshine and he got a glimpse of her bare white belly and the tiny red panties she wore.

“What are we gonna do with her? Zavalos must be dead. He hasn’t shown up like he was supposed to.”

The other lycan stood and, planting his fists on his hips, stared across the fire at Rayne. Ringo lowered his body closer to the ground and moved slowly toward them, listening.

“Something went wrong. I feel it,” he said. “Let’s load her into the truck and head south. We can’t wait out here anymore. It’ll be morning soon.”

“Please. Let me go,” Rayne said.

Ringo’s heart thumped then sped in his chest at the sound of her voice. Just hearing it threatened to send him to his knees.

“Can’t do that, Red.” This from the man who was crouched before the fire. “Our pack is short on unmated females and you’ll have to come with us.”

“But I-I am,” she stammered. “I have a mate.”

The lycan who stood stalked toward her and, grabbing her shoulders, jerked her upright and slapped her. The crack of it shredded the quiet.

Red rage clouded Ringo’s mind. His fur bristled. They would die this night for trespassing on what was his. His snarl of outrage made his prey go still. With death and destruction on his mind, he leaped.

* * * * *

The first lycan had thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and run with her into the night to where a truck waited. A second man had bound her hands and feet with duct tape and covered her mouth with it too. Callously they’d tossed her into the bed of the truck and driven off. She heard the cries of the McCafferty sisters and wanted to scream her outrage. They were just girls really, no older than seventeen. No doubt they were being handled in the same sickening manner. A second truck, carrying the girls, went in another direction.

Oh gods!

There was no way in hell she could help them.

Terrified, shaken beyond anything in her experience, she’d lain there as tears leaked from her eyes. All she could see was the smattering of stars overhead. All she could hear was the sound of the truck engine and the wind as it whistled by. Closing her eyes, she prayed for Ringo.

Yes, she was lycan but not yet fully in working order, so to speak. She’d yet to shift and only tonight had it been revealed that Ringo, the lanky, dark wolf with the blacker–than-sin eyes was hers.

Hers.

Finally. After all these years of hoping and praying that he was the one who would have an unbreakable psychic connection with her, the wish had come true. He would come for her. She knew it.

They’d barely touched tonight at the barbecue at the Wolf Creek Ranch. Big Joe McKinnon, the pack’s new alpha had taken Quinn, his newly consummated mate by the hand. Joy propelled Rayne to her feet as she took a step through the crowd and toward the bandstand where the couple had gone to make an announcement. Suddenly, she brushed against six foot four inches of steely-hard muscle. She smelled the familiar scent of clean, masculine cologne and stared into the black eyes that featured prominently in most of her dreams.

“Ringo,” she gasped as his hands reached out to steady her.

“Steady there, darlin’.”

He sucked in a breath and so did she. Their eyes connected and held.

Around her the world narrowed dramatically as a low buzz of energy zipped through her system. Instantly her panties were drenched and a ball of lust tightened low in her belly. Her first thought was to press her thighs together to soothe the harsh ache in her pussy. “Wha—”

“Fuck. No. This can’t be happening,” Ringo murmured huskily. He released her as if burned and shoved his fingers through his thick, black hair. His nostrils flared. His breath whipped in and out of his lungs as if he he’d run a race.

Rayne could do nothing but stare. Ringo’s eyes narrowed on her seconds before he grabbed her arm and ushered her toward the kitchen door of the house. His grip was strong but she didn’t mind. Even a simple touch from him set her on fire. In the distance she heard shouts of “Happy consummation” from the lycan population of Cloverfield, Texas. But then she heard nothing because Ringo led her through the door, pressed her against the wall and took her mouth with a hunger she’d never experienced before. Those lips, that to others might seem cruel, softened over hers and then he nipped her bottom lip. “This can’t be happening. It can’t be you.”

He regretted her. He didn’t want her.



An Excerpt From: EDGE OF NOWHERE

Copyright © REGINA CARLYSLE, 2009

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



“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?

Probably not.

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.

“Yeah.”

“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.

Almost home.

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.”

“Quinn?”

“Your lupa.”

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.”

“I’m fine.”

“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.”

Monday, January 3, 2011

Quantity vs. Quality

First off, I need to apologize for the lateness of my post today. I had two appointments and thought I'd set my draft to post but apparently hadn't. So much for my mind and how well it works, right? lol Both my appts ran late and when I got home I had to start dinner. So here I am just realizing my post didn't post. Sorry. Anyway, here's what I'm wondering about today.

With the New Year came new writing goals for a lot of authors I’m sure. I have my own writing goal this year—to actually write. Lol Yeah, I just want to write. Not sure how much or when I’ll finish each work or how many novellas I’ll have contracted by the end of the year or how many novels. I just want to write.

I’m amazed by my friend Natalie Dae and just how prolific she is. Before she signed off on Facebook last night, she posted an 8K word count for the day. Now some of you may be thinking---oh rough draft—heck yeah, if I work ten hours I can get down some word count too. No, Natalie’s work is polished. Meaning when those 8K are down?—they are submission ready. Yeah, she’s amazing.

I’m not like Nat. Writers like her are very rare. When I’m in the zone (which isn’t every day), I’ll get down about 3K polished words. My personal best was 5200. Now rough count, just banging away at the keys and getting the story down—which I haven’t done in a couple of years now—I could produce 10K in a day. But that’s just it. It’s a rough rough draft. Going back over it seven or eight more times to get the book submission ready is a lot of work and not the way I do it anymore. I constantly self edit as I write.

And I can’t predict how much work I’ll be able to produce in a year either. The last two months of my life have netted about 10K. That’s it. A freebie Christmas story and about four K on a WIP. Bronchitis got in the way of my productivity for sure. Then add to that the holidays, and well…

Basically, life seems to throw a lot of curve balls at me.

So all of these goals I see posted everywhere about how much work this author or that author plans for the coming year make me feel kind of…well…stupid. Lol Yeah, stupid. I so wish I could simply say: Book X will be finished by the end of January. Book M will be finished by the end of March, etc etc. But I can’t.

Now, in my head I have what I consider the optimum number of releases for an author who is electronically published--and quasi full time. I tend to believe that a novella release every couple of months with one or two full blown novels a year is about what every author should shoot for. The every two-month schedule being a good timeline to keep interest up in an author’s work and keep their pen name out there, but at the same time not flood the market with too much—and I have more thoughts coming up on that too. So why one or two big novels? Some authors don’t write longer works and that’s fine. But for me, I like the idea of showcasing just how well I can handle a more complicated storyline and maintain interest without the work coming across as padded. But…that’s just me and doesn’t apply to anyone else.

In addition to those reasons for my optimum number of releases, I have concerns over the quality of the work I produce. Like I said at the beginning of the post, authors like Natalie Dae are extremely rare. And I most certainly AM NOT one of them. When you’re just the average author—like me—how can you maintain quality and produce more work than I’ve described. Let’s see…a novella every two months in a year is six novellas. At an average of 30K each, allowing for some to be shorter and some to be longer, that’s 180,000 words. Or?
Figure that as writing five days a week and taking off weekends…that’s 693 words each day—five days a week. Doesn’t sound like a lot does it?

Yeah, right. Doesn’t SOUND like a lot. But now let’s figure in the days you just don’t feel like writing. Writers block. Uh huh. Now let’s figure in the latest virus going around the schools or at your church. Add in the fact that you just fell off your front porch (been there, done that) and twisted your knee to the point you can’t walk and sure as hell don’t feel like writing. Ohhhh…and don’t forget you have to clean the house, do the laundry, pick up the kids at school, make dinner, help with homework, have a social life (what’s that?), and figure in snuggle time with the love of your life (what’s that?).

Can you really get in 693 words a day? Or are you just hoping you’ll do 3K in one day, lol—like I do, and make up for the days you didn’t.

And I still haven’t figured in the full blown novel at an average of 60K. sighhhhhh And I haven’t figured in all that time you have to put into promotions.

And then there is this…in producing all that word count, do you sacrifice quality? Now granted I’ve given what you may now be thinking is a pretty high word count as what I think is the optimum level a quasi-full time author should be working at. But really? I think I can meet that goal of six novellas a year and one or two big novels. I might miss it by one novella or one big book, but close. And I think I can maintain quality.

But what about those authors who are producing more than that? Half a million words a year? It’s called churning. Simply getting down the words and putting it out there. And there are publishers who will publish it, too. Now I’m not talking about authors like Natalie who can easily produce half a million words in quality works a year. And I’m not talking about authors who may have submitted a book to publisher B a year ago and it is just now releasing along with a book they submitted two months ago at a different publisher—making it appear as though they have two books that were written closely together and really weren’t.

I’m talking about true churning. Here are my questions:

Does the author involved in churning think they are doing themselves a favor in the long run? Or do they even realize their work isn’t quite up to snuff?

Do YOU, the author, ever worry that you’re producing too much and back off?

Do YOU, the reader, ever read a book and know that the author has sacrificed quality to simply get out another title? And if so, how does that affect your buying habits where this author is concerned?

It’s a hard subject with some hard questions. What does everyone think?

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Let's welcome guest author Bianca Somerland to Three Wicked Writers today!

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf (lusting after bad boys)

Thanks to Madison Scott with the Three Wicked Writer’s for having me here today. This is my sixth stop on my blog tour leading up to the release of Rosemary Entwined and it’s been a wild ride.
And speaking of wild rides (don’t get to indulge in clichés very often, so please forgive me if I sprinkle them in my posts) today’s subject is those sexy, leather donning men with the devil-may-care smile. The ones you know will get you into trouble. The ones that would have played the villain once upon a time.
I refuse to say that all women do it, but some of us just don’t get turned on by the men who pull out our chairs and hold the door open. We don’t dream of being handed up into a carriage by a gentlemen. Those soulful eyes leave us cold.
So what do we want?
Well, personally, I want to be yanked out of that chair with no mistake as to where I’m going. Push me into the door on the way into my apartment. Throw me over the back of your horse and ride away with me.
Now, why is that?
Damned if I know. I’m not Freud, but I am an erotic writer, and by knowing what I like, I’m able to do a pretty good job giving it to those who share my tastes. Not to say I never write a nice guy, they’re good to have around sometimes. Like that time of the month when chunky monkey and loose jogging pants make up your entire menu and wardrobe.
Just kidding. Honestly though, I couldn’t write a purely nice guy without getting bored. Which is why I write ménages.
And to make my point, I want you to picture this:
Dry leaves crunch under your flip flops as you skip through the woods. A low growl sounds somewhere behind you. Your heart stutters in your chest. Something’s coming. Heavy footsteps approach from the left. You’re surrounded.
A broad form steps into the moonlight. An axe rested on one shoulder, he scans the woods. The growl fades away.
With a gentle glow in his bright green eyes, the huntsman looks at you and holds out his hand. “Come with me, I’ll keep you safe.”
The subtle scent of wood smoke drifts off him. Comforting, familiar. And you know, to the depths of your soul, that you have nothing more to fear.
Aww. The guy sounds swell. You’re in for a night of sweet, sweet lovin’
But what if it went the other way?
White fangs glow in the light of the moon as the wolf creeps out of the shadows. You bolt in the direction of the footsteps and your lips part as you prepare to scream.
A big hand clamps over your mouth. “You don’t want to do that.”
Breathing hard and fast through your nose, you smell the wildness of him, the aroma of wind rushing over rapids mixed with earth and trees and leaves. Cold adrenaline pumps through your veins, urging you to run.
But he holds you tight.
“Hush, just listen to me.” He spins you around and presses you back against a tree. “Tell me you don’t want this, that you didn’t take the shortcut through the woods hoping I’d find you, and I’ll let you go.” Raw heat burns in his yellow eyes as he leans closer. “Or keep quiet and I’ll give you exactly what you need.”
He moves his hand. You hear the footsteps pass. And you don’t make a sound.
Umm. I’ll take option number two. Not to say that in real life you’d ever put yourself in a situation like that, but in an erotic fantasy, a little danger can be thrilling.
And now you’ve gotten a glimpse of how my twisted mind works.

Bianca Sommerland was born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. When not reading neurotically or writing as though the fate of the world rests on her keyboard, she is either watching hockey or teaching her daughters the beauty of a classic, steel pony while reminiscing about her days in Auto Body Mechanics.
Her time is balanced with utmost care between normal family life, and the internal paranormal realm where her characters reside. For the most part, she succeeds. She is currently working on a risqué new ménage novel called, EMBRACING EVIL. You can find her at http://imnoangelauthorsblog.wordpress.com/




Rosemary Entwined blurb
One kiss might save her, but if Rosemary has to lose even one of her men, she doesn’t want a prince.
The only role of Rosemary's nest of men is to feed her insatiable hunger for lust, but that's not what she wants for them. Or what they want from her. While Rosemary presses for them to live their own lives, they each find ways to steal into her heart. With the threat of her mother's nest hanging over them, Rosemary decides to surrender to the love they offer and focus on building their combined strength to stand against the inevitable attacks.
When her control over her powers slips, another problem arises. The nest is incomplete. A prince must be chosen, and if he is not among her men, she'll be forced to let one of them go.
She once feared her heart wasn't big enough to hold them all. Now she fears she's not strong enough to release even one. Even if it costs her her life.

Friday, December 31, 2010

Winner Announcement!


Anne Rainey will contact her winner direct. 

The winner of an ebook from Madison's backlist is...Susan! Yay you! Congrats! Could you email Madison at: writermadisonscott@yahoo.com

The winner of a copy of Latin Rhythm from Tess is...Valerie! Congrats, love! Could you email Tess at: teasyone@hotmail.com

The winner of Scared by Sarah Masters from Nat is...JenB! Yeee har! Well done! Could you email Nat at: nataliedae@googlemail.com

The winner of an e-book from Regina's backlist is...Emily! Yippee! Congrats! Could you email Regina at: reginacarlysle@yahoo.com

WELL DONE EVERYONE, AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OUR READERS!