Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Many, many changes. My beautiful home sold in one week at a good price and I have moved into a suite in a gorgeous retirement area. Not a home for the aged! But many of us have passed our "best before date."
I shall return to my writing routine when my life settles down. In the meantime, I have to cut back on various internet activities.
I have enjoyed being with the other Goddesses. I wish you all the best.
By for now,
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Please enjoy this excerpt:
She looked up the side of the mountain, down into the ravine and back up the rock wall, anywhere to avoid looking at him. “Yes, well, I guess we need to find a way to get out of here. And quickly.” Jayda used the wall to get to her feet, but her head spun again and she swayed. She slumped into Zane’s embrace and he held her while she retched.
“Really, Jayda, I’m pretty sure you have a concussion.” He brushed the hair from her face, his gaze raking over her features. The upturned nose fit perfectly with the rounded cheeks and full lips. Christ, she was beautiful.
Whoa, back up. What the hell was wrong with him? He had just been named head of the cougar shifters. Even considering getting involved with a wolf shifter was just a bad idea all the way around. And here he was, thinking lusty thoughts about the mate of the head honcho. Down, boy, down. He mentally refocused his libido. “There’s no hurry. We need to take this slow. Getting up the ridge may prove a little trickier than coming down.”
Once again she realized how close their bodies were and pushed from him. “Yeah, well, I think there is a reason to hurry.” She shot a glance over her shoulder. “Let’s just get out of here. You can take me back to the clinic and you and your cougars can come back and find the kits.”
The kits. He’d forgotten all about them. Zane went down on one knee and purred low in invitation. They popped out of the small crevice one at a time.
Jayda cooed. “Oh, you found them!”
“No, Jayda, you found them.” He picked one up by the scruff of the neck and smiled. “Not that I’d recommend this method again, but we have them.” Zane looked up the wall. “Now we just have to figure out how to get everyone back up to the truck.”
“Well, how did you get down here?” Jayda looked up, shading her eyes against the noonday sun. “I’m not sure I can climb.”
“I came down in cougar form. But I came in from that direction.” He turned and looked at the slope, trying to work out a solution. “I could carry you on my back.”
She didn’t respond. He turned to see her appraising him and his cock immediately stirred under her probing gaze. Embarrassed, he bent and let the kit join his sibling. “Stupid idea. Why don’t we both shift and we can each carry a kit in our mouths.” He shot her a look over his shoulder. “Do you feel well enough to shift?”
Her face flushed. “Yeah, but…” She looked from his ass to her body. “But then there’re no clothes for me when we get to the top.”
His fingers dug through his hair and he blew out a breath. Driving home with a naked Jayda next to him was definitely more than he could handle. “How about you wear my shirt and I wear my pants?” He stood, giving her a view of his shoulder, his hands covering his over-anxious cock. In all his life, Zane was sure he’d never been naked in front of woman and tried to keep his interest in her a secret. “We just need to get the hell out of here. You shift and I’ll follow.”
“Well, turn around. I’m certainly not getting naked in front of you.”
“Oh sorry.” He turned his back to her. Zane heard the rustle of clothing and imagined that tight little tank top coming off and her bra falling to the ground, leaving her full breasts exposed. He bit back a groan when the zipper of her jeans rasped, but he couldn’t control the surge of blood to his cock. He was slime. The woman had nearly lost her life trying to save the tiny cougars and all he could think about was her curvaceous, naked ass.
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Sunday, September 27, 2009
Some of her favorite stories of mine were the romantic suspense, especially my Bare Love series. She never got a chance to see Bare Seduction and Bare Devotion go to print in Tres Bare. I really wish she had. So today I am going to share a little something with you from Tres Bare.
Tres Bare by Lacey Thorn
Contains Bare Seduction and Bare Devotion
Cass Sinclair has spent the last five months at home with her parents, helping to care for her mother who was dying of cancer. After her mother's funeral Cass returns to Legacy for her friend Moira's wedding.
First on her list of things to do is Moira's bachelorette party at the home of the brother of the groom, Doug Daniels, and his best friend and business partner Damon Roberts. Cass meets Doug and Damon when she is demonstrating how to walk on her hands, wearing nothing but her lacy underwear and three-inch high heels. for the three of them it is lust at first sight and it just may lead to something more, something bigger, something so much better than they ever dreamed.
But someone doesn't like Cass' new romance and they'll do anything to stop it, even murder.
Ally wants one thing - to stop the man who killed her mother from killing anyone else. What she finds is more than she ever imagined. Blake, the fire marshal in Legacy, has finally met his match in the woman he mistakes for a pyromaniac. But the fire they ignite together is sure to burn them both in the flames of passion.
Catherine Daniels is fighting flames of her own. The time has come for her to decide what she wants - life with the man she is coming to love, or letting him walk away becasue of her fears and uncertainties. It is a decision taht she struggles with every moment... Until the night she may lose the ability to choose at all.
Both stories contain m/f/m menage scenes.
Until next month...Happy reading
It's your world...unlaced
Saturday, September 26, 2009
And to read.
And to experience!
When I get to these parts, reading or writing, I am thrilled to see and FEEL the diversity.
"Kiss me, Scarlett!" Rhett demands on the bridge as he leaves her to join the dying South.
Cary Grant as he cannot help himself when he kisses Ingrid Bergman on the cheek, to carry her from her husband's house in NOTORIOUS.
Do you have a favorite kiss from a novel that you love????
Tell us about it, please.
WE and I definitely want to hear what and how and why!
So in the meantime, I will give you an excerpt of one of my kisses in HER THREE-WAY MERGER! (excerpt here is NO WHERE ELSE on the net! EXCLUSIVE, EXCLUSIVE! READ ALL ABOUT IT!)
He drew back and cupped her head. “You,” he grunted as he splayed his fingers in her hair and spoke on her mouth, “always have been mine.” He pressed her to the mattress. “Let me show you.”
She grinned at him, wiggling to get her hungry pussy near his cock. “Hurry.”
He took her chin and kissed her instead. Plundering her mouth with a demanding tongue that ravished all of her—teeth, tongue, lips—leaving her wet and panting for more. “I want the taste of you I’ve needed for years.”
She ran her tongue around her lips, thinking he meant his kiss.
But he slid down her body and pushed her thighs open, spreading her wide to his view. “Christ. You are so pretty in red and cream.” He dipped a finger inside her cunt, scooped out some juice and licked his finger dry. “Try some, baby.” Then he reached inside her to extract more and hold his finger in front of her mouth.
She licked him, loving her savory musk and marveling at how much she had for him.
He outlined her labia with gentle fingertips as he told her, “Tate is the one who likes to eat pussy. His specialty.” Cord bent to her labia and gave her one long lave of his tongue. “But with you, I’m gonna become an expert.”
COME FOR MORE OVER at my blog: http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com
Ellora's Cave 2009
Bored with her sex life with a husband she still loves, but who has the Saturday-night, three-minute orgasm—his—down to a fine art, Haley takes the first step on a journey of sexual discovery when Josh, younger brother of her closest friend, expresses a decidedly carnal interest in her. The result is more than she imagined in her raunchiest fantasies.
Josh has had a crush on Haley since he was a kid, gangly and too damn tall for his weight. But he isn’t a kid anymore, and he grew into his six foot five inches, plus some. He’s come back home for one thing only—for a shot at the girl he fell for when he was too damn young to do much about it.
But Harry’s not done with his wife—not when he finds out that inside that prim repressed shell, she’s been hiding the sexual temptress he’s always hungered for. Now all Haley has to do is ask, and two men are ready to give her everything she wants.
Josh dropped his gym bag with a thump and reached for her. Krissa wrapped her arms enthusiastically around her little brother as he swung her off her feet then set her back down on the doorstep. “I missed you, Krissie! When’s supper?”
He was always hungry. Had something to do with the size of him, he figured. Standing six foot six inches, and weighing in at a clean, lean two hundred and fifty pounds, he had a hard body because he worked hard for a living. He grinned down at his sister and laughed as she swatted at his hands and flushed prettily.
God, how he had always loved to watch Krissa and Haley giggle like that and put their pretty blonde heads together, thinking he couldn’t hear them if they whispered. Shit, he’d heard every damn word. But he never let on. He learned too much information to want to tip them off to the fact his hearing was excellent, even across the room.
“Haley here yet?” he asked casually, and Krissa grinned up at him conspiratorially.
“Be patient! You know I had to damn near threaten to break off our friendship if she didn’t agree to come. You know Haley…she’ll be here if she promised.”
He’d switched jobs to come back to Spring City and be closer to family—and Haley Grant. No, Haley Gregory now. But what the fuck? Getting around a husband wasn’t the hardest thing he’d ever done. And from what Krissa had told him, Harry Gregory was a fairly inattentive husband. So much the better for him. He’d waited twelve years for a piece of Haley, and a husband wasn’t about to stand in his way now. He’d fallen hard for her when he was a gangly ninth grader and she was the Junior Prom Queen.
He had wanted her from the day she flashed her hot little breasts at him. He’d only been fourteen, but when he’d seen those delightful morsels bared for his delectation, and her fingers pinching them to tease him, he’d decided she wouldn’t be averse to letting him touch them. If she hadn’t hooked up with Harry Gregory, and if Harry hadn’t been so fucking possessive of her, Josh would definitely have sampled those nipples.
Over the twelve years that had passed since she’d dared him to taste her, he’d savored that memory. He had compared those lush, youthful breasts to every other set he’d tasted and licked, and all the rest had faded from his thoughts once he’d enjoyed them. Oh, he loved fucking and sucking. He’d gotten damn good at it over the years. But it had all been practice…practice for the next time she bared those amazing round globes to him…and he planned to see them again—soon.
As Krissa led him into the kitchen, he waved at Jim, who’d poked his head out of the living room and yelled a welcome. Talking with Krissie and Jim was appealing, but right now, food was his objective. Food then a hot shower. Krissie had invited Haley over tonight, and he wanted to be clean and sweet-smelling for her. Oh yeah. For what he planned with Haley tonight, he wanted to be sweet and clean all over.
Josh had always had it bad for her. But Harold Gregory was the jock-stud-prom-king dude who had stolen her away after graduation before anyone less almighty got a shot at her. And Haley wasn’t one to take on some gangly kid three years behind her in school and dump Mr. Hotstuff.
When Haley had married after graduation, Josh hadn’t gone to her wedding, even though he’d been included in the invitation. He’d spent that whole day walking by the stream that bordered the pasture a couple of miles from his house. He’d walked there with Krissa and Haley many times. He’d imagined her smiling up into his face, tucking her slim arm around his waist as he bent to catch those lush lips in a hungry kiss. He’d gone home and jacked off pathetically as he thought of that prick Harry Gregory taking her to bed when it should have been him, Josh Barnes, in that bed with her, fucking her blind.
Josh Barnes had been a gangly, awkward and fairly shy kid back then. And that wasn’t what a girl like Haley wanted. But he wasn’t a gangly kid anymore, and he’d had enough experience with women to know that what he had to offer was not something a woman would stick her nose up at. Oh yeah. He had big plans for tonight.
* * * * *
Haley was nervous. She checked her hair and her makeup three times before sliding out of her car and making her way to the wooden front porch of Krissa and Jim’s home. Hesitantly, she climbed the three steps to the front porch and pressed the doorbell button.
She almost lost her nerve, and was debating on making a run for it when the door swung open, and she found Joshua Barnes standing there.
Filling the whole damn doorway.
Her eyes must have shown her shock, because his crookedly sexy smile was enough to blow her away. “Hi! Um, is Krissa here?” Her voice sounded breathless even to her. My God! She was acting like a teenybopper on her first blind date.
She almost lost her courage as he stood aside to allow her to step inside the house. He was so tall. And so gorgeous. Oh…my…God! He was all prime, succulent male. Leaning in slightly as she scooted past him, she couldn’t hide her telltale blush as she didn’t quite manage to keep her breast from brushing his chest. She heard the quick inhalation of his breath and knew he wasn’t immune to her, either.
Her nipple tingled as if she’d leaned into an electric wire fence. Fighting down her glandular reaction to his appearance and his proximity, she stepped into the familiar foyer, and wrapped her arms around her body as if that might insulate her from his potent presence. The experimental contact told her what she had wanted to know—he was very much aware of her sexually. What she hadn’t counted on was her own reaction to the little brush of tight nipple to hard, delicious male muscle! Holy shit. Was she nuts to be here? Had she been kidding herself? Deluding herself that all she wanted was to regain an old acquaintance with the neighbor’s kid?
Haley bit the corner of her lip as she turned to face him in the tight confines of the tiny foyer, waiting for Josh to make the next tentative move. He moved slowly, and she watched as he closed the door, and shot the lock home.
Available NOW from: Jasmine-Jade/Ellora's Cave
Her Own Set of Rules
Thursday, September 24, 2009
9. A little bit of both goes along way to making a bad day better.
8. The hotter the tempt the steamy the sex and richer the chocolate.
7. Your hero can never be too rich and neither can your chocolate.
6. A mid-day quickie, either chocolate or a book, can help make the work day pass faster.
5. They are both things men will never truly understand.
4. They are both perfect under any condition, in any enviroment at anytime.
3. Tease a woman with either or both and you may just pull back a nub.
2. Like great chocolate, many women are reluctant to offer books off their 'keeper' shelf.
And the number one reason romance books are like chocolate......
1. Great chocolatiers, like great romance writers only get better with age and are best when shared with good friends and great wine.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Here's a little taste (or tease?) of Pitch Black.
Breathless seduction in a glass elevator above a darkened Kiev covers up deactivation of Katherine Belaya’s implanted GPS tracker. Nicholai Rostov may have just saved her life or led her into a trap set by the Russians. Her lust for him is simple nerves, adrenaline pumped high by threat of bullets. As they fight for survival, Kate's trust in Nick may be the only thing that’s keeping them alive.
Copyright © FIONA JAYDE, 2009
Tucking a knife into a special pocket in her pants—a girl could never be too careful—Kate exited her room and nearly collided with one of Dubrov’s bodyguards. The one she’d kissed the night before.
Her blush was hot just like the air. “Excuse me, Nicholai.” She murmured it in Russian, feeling her body temperature following suit. He wasn’t gorgeous—not Hollywood gorgeous, at least. A lean, long body, hard but not too thick under the dark German suit that was becoming standard wear for bodyguards and businessmen in this part of the world.
She couldn’t quite tell the color of his eyes—gray, green or blue. His hair—dark blond—was cropped close to his skull and not spiked up like most men did these days. His cheekbones were Slavic high, his lips unsmiling and straight, and firm and tempting when he’d kissed her on the balcony last night. And like an idiot she’d lost her head and let him, knowing that anyone could see them through the sliding doors.
He wedged in after her into the glass deathtrap that was the elevator. Raised a blond eyebrow as if asking her where she’d like to go.
“Umm… Lobby please.” She really should stop staring at him, Kate thought, and ran a hand through the loose blonde strands of hair that had escaped her braid. If he had known exactly who he had been playing tonsil hockey with, he’d probably have shot her on the spot. With any luck, she would be on a plane to Moscow by tomorrow.
She focused on the lights of downtown Kiev spread before her—and not on the man who crossed his arms across his chest while the elevator gently glided down.
Then time suddenly stopped and the lit city became a dark bottomless pit.
Another blackout. Kate pressed her hands to the surprisingly cool glass and concentrated on her breathing. Her senses went to high alert, as if somehow the outage affected her directly.
Except it did. There was a man with her—a man who smelled of soap and aftershave and somehow managed to be standing much closer than she’d expected. Silence settled around them like a warm blanket, the only sounds Kate heard were her own heartbeat and his soft, steady breaths.
“Power outage,” he whispered in perfect English, his mouth a hairsbreadth from her ear. Too close for any semblance of sanity.
“Hopefully it’ll turn back on soon.” Her voice matched his in softness. Kate wondered if he heard the tremble in it.
“We have a little while.”
She felt his breath over her cheek and then his mouth found hers. Sweet, firm, and gentle. The shock of it had her melting against him. She let him press her back against the glass, his body—God, it was so solid—fitted along hers. Fleetingly she thought of the last time he’d kissed her, the hunger she’d felt in his hands and mouth. This was subtly different, tender and somehow calculated and as erotic as all hell.
His hands were light over her bare arms, stroking, just stroking, close to her breasts, nearly brushing at their sides. Cruising his lips over her mouth, her jaw, her throat, nibbling, sampling. The stubble on his skin rasped delicately at her flesh, and she gasped for breath as his teeth grazed the tendon on her neck. The heat around her was nothing to what pooled inside her belly.
Between her clenching thighs, she felt herself already creaming. She should do…something. Not stand there like some dumbstruck teenager. Except her body became pliant, languid. His.
Another ragged breath as he put both his hands around her throat, long fingers cupping her nape under her hair, thumbs stroking her neck while she swallowed.
And still she couldn’t see him.
“Let me touch you.” His growl was a soft promise in her ear.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
I have a family name that ends with "baugh". When the original family came to America, it was spelled "bach". They were of German extraction and that was pronounced like the composer. Bach. Well, they settled in an area where most of the governing bodies were groups of Scotch-Irish immigrants. And they (the Scotch-Irish) spelled "bach" as "baugh". Hence, our name now ends with baugh instead of bach.
Back then, name spelling was just one of the variables. I have an ancestor named Alice, Alys, Alis, Alics, Alyc, Alyys, Alies, and a couple more variants. As you can see, a simple name like Alice had many varients. You should see what they did with Bartholomew...
With all the texting and emoticons and other abbreviations, I just wonder how long it will be before spelling is a thing of the past. Will it be necessary? Or will we just shrug our shoulders and move on?
PS: Today begins the Falling Leaves Contest! Just click the link for details and many chances to win!
Monday, September 21, 2009
For my part, one winner will receive a free download of any current title available as of October 31st (which will include: Claimed by Darkness) as well as a two pack prize of perfume oils I had designed for me. There's a story behind that and I'll get to it in a second, but "Mia" and "Mia Afterdark" in roll-on application viles will be sent to the winner. Be sure to check out the contest which will begin October 1st.
The story: All perfumes go sweet on me. Sickeningly so and most fragrances make me sneeze. Soap and shampoo have always been my only scent, yet my nieces love the scent of vanilla in my hair. I do also. I had an internet scent wizard create a combination of my favorites using my specified high notes, low notes, and base notes (I'm an instinctive cooker and have an excellent feel for what works together) which she did. I purchased a ready made scent by the perfumer as well.
I loved my fragrance and wear it daily. My nieces and selected males I allow close enough, find reasons to get close for a sniff. I find it amusing actually. One day, I mixed the designed scent with the purchased scent and discovered that I loved it also. I promptly had the perfumer mix my scent to hers and found the perfect percentage to create a new one. Hence "Mia", my regular usage perfumed oil, and "Mia Afterdark" for those naughty sexy moments when I'm still me, just amped up for play.
Both fragrances will be included as part of the winning prize. I hope you like them as much as I do. And for those interested, the perfumer has agreed to make both scents available to others upon request as part of an "exclusive" collection. More on that later. If you order, simply request "Mia" or "Mia Afterdark" in the notes portion of the purchase to identify the scents you like.
A Review by DarkDivas:
Ms. Watt's has shown herself to be exceptionally talented and I cannot wait to see what she has in store for us next. Rated 4 1/2 Delightful Divas by Jen!
Thank you Jen!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
I’ve had the privilege of working with four editors since I sold my first erotic romance in 2006. My first editor bought my first four books. During the editing process on book four, I was reassigned to my second editor who contracted my fifth book. Which was then assigned to a third editor who worked us both to ensure the language fit the time period. But that was a one-book, one-time cooperation. Finally I was assigned to an editor who rejected four or five submissions and I almost decided my writing career was done. But my latest editor kept giving me really valuable feedback and I kept revising and resubmitting and revising… Anyway, four sets of revisions later, we reached an accord.
It took fifteen years to sell my first novel; almost a year to sell my sixth. Which proves perseverance—on both the writer and editor’s part—pays off. So hang in, hang out, hang on. Good things happen when you keep trying.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Gareth's Gambit comes out today. Naturally I'm like any mother with a new baby. He's such a sweet hunk, so naturally I'm going to blog about him. He's the second in my new series, Songs of the Mages, and the first born son of Damien, the Earl of Sinclair who started the mage series. You can see a nifty trailer of Gareth at www.youtube.com/jswriter7. It's worth watching just for the beautiful music.
And here's an excerpt. A short one, but I hope intriquing. The real sex comes later, this is just a teaser.
She simply couldn’t resist. Never had she thought this man, the one she’d begun by detesting, could prove her wrong about so many things. Actually she was glad to be proven wrong when it concerned the miracle that was Gareth Townsend. She walked over to him and leaning over, kissed him sweetly on the lips.
“Thank you again, my lord Gareth. I’ll go start on my half of your assignment.”
She left a bemused Gareth starting after her, his fingers to his lips as if to keep her kiss there as long as he possibly could.
His thoughts were similar to hers. Never had he so misjudged a person. He wondered once more what her deep prejudice was against magicians of the kind she called charlatans. Maybe when she trusted him enough she’d tell him what her fears were all about. Something mattering to her a great deal, he knew.
Once again the temptation to read her mind flitted across his thoughts, and once again he put it aside.
He sighed. He managed little sleep, and every time this happened his shortened leg pained him more than he cared to admit. Oh well, he’d better go find Katie and take her out of the house for a while. He wondered briefly how Morgana would explain all the blood to her housekeeper. With both Amy’s wrists healed it might be more than puzzling.
Striving not to limp, he headed to find Katie.
Sexy exec Sienna Galvan never mixes business with pleasure until she calls a meeting with the two hunky football stars who used to be her next door neighbors and her teenage fantasies. But Cord and Tate Ryder take one look at how sweet little Sienna has grown in to an irresistibly luscious lady and they make her an offer she can’t refuse--three-way negotiations on their sofa, their yacht--and their bed. Thrilling to their risqué explorations of her body, she revels in having them both at her command, together and separately. But when they drive a harder bargain than she imagined, she must find a way to do what’s right for her business and what’s best for her heart.
She began to jump up, afraid she wasn’t knowledgeable enough to handle two men at once. But she halted. How did a woman do that, anyway? And not die of ecstasy? The girl in her had wanted both of them at once. Did the woman?
Her pussy throbbed and she knew her answer was yes, oh yes, I want you both. Just like I always had. Any way you want me. In a small but determined voice, she laid ground rules for whatever came next. “But you have to know that whatever happens here my offer is the same as my real estate agent’s.”
“Fun first.” Tate inched closer, his tone all business but his gaze lush with desire as he removed her shoes. “Business later.”
Cord put his mouth to her ear and whispered, “We have to taste you.” And in her surprise, she dissolved in his hands as he lowered his demanding mouth on hers and probed her inner recesses with a spearing tongue. “Every inch of you.” He splayed his fingers in her hair, sent a few of her hairpins flying, then claimed her lips again while one hand covered her breast.
“Give me this,” Tate commanded and took her glass. “I want to show you where this margarita really tastes good.” And in a second, she felt his cold kiss on her kneecap while his cool fingers parted her legs and stroked up her thigh. He went a few inches more and threaded his fingers around the crotch of her thong. She bucked, trying hard to hang on to her sanity and not just come right now like a frustrated nun.
“Oh, Christ, bro,” Tate groaned as his knuckles grazed her slit and she moaned at his tantalizing nudge. “She’s sopping wet for us.”
“Open for him, honey,” Cord crooned to her, one hand cupping her head, his other undoing the buttons of her blouse. “Do it and I am going to kiss your pretty mouth again while he gets his fingers all juicy with you.”
She eagerly widened her legs but the damn tight skirt was such a hindrance that she whimpered in frustration. She undulated while Cord slipped his palm into her bra and lifted out a swollen nipple. She arched into his caress. “You both have a reputation. Worse than in high school. Ah, god, that’s great, Cord.”
Cord rolled her nipple between two fingers. “Did you pebble like this for me in high school?”
“Yes, yes! Kiss me there!” she ordered, shocked but proud of her demand.
“Should have told us, baby,” Tate said as he delved beneath her thong and caught a few curls of her bush to gently tug at her heavy lips. “We would have done you.”
She squirmed at how Tate’s pull made her give off a succulent sound and damn, if she didn’t want to hear it again. On a shaky breath, she argued, “No, you would not.” I was your fat little next-door neighbor. “I was your tutor.”
“We could have been yours,” Cord murmured. “I would have loved to initiate you.”
“Oh, Cord.” I’d have given you anything you wanted. (Copyright 2009, Cerise DeLand)
Now don’t you need a bigger taste????
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
As for my writing. It has been on hold for a year or two as my husband's health declined. I have three finished romance novels waiting for editing before I send them out. They've been languishing on my computer pleading with me to get them up and going. They are 50,000 - 60,000 word stories. I have a long historical awaiting my attention and a new historical begging for attention.
All in all, I have a lot to do when my life settles down and starts running smoothly. My apartment faces the Strait of Juan de Fuca so I look out on the sea. In the distance are the Olympic Mountains in Washington. The sky is gorgeous when the sun is setting. To-day it's cloudy but the mountains are peaking through.
If you enjoy a page turning, romance suspense, have a look at my book, TOO YOUNG TO DIE. It's available from Cerridwen Press as an e-book. Here's the cover. Excerpts of all my books are available on my web site. www.anitabirt.com
I'll be back in my usual Goddess spot on September 30. Promise!
Monday, September 14, 2009
This week I'm featuring a different book every day on my blog. I thought it only fitting that I do the same here, today, on the Goddesses of Storytelling! :)
Today is an April release from Ellora's Cave Splashing Good Time. Look for Body Shots Dec 15th and Ignited, an Exokita coming soon.
Reece Collins is growing tired of her Wednesday rituals of masturbating to the sight of the so called “pool boy” and her battery operated friend is leaving her unsatisfied. She craves a no-strings-attached torrid sexual encounter. Problem? The only one offering is ten years her junior.
Nathan Donovan ha s lusted over his client forever. When he happens upon her in a very compromising position, his desires swell, as he plunges head first into the deep end to save her. One brief encounter leaves him yearning for more, but when she splashes cold water on his plans, will he walk away or spank some sense into her?
“You look hot!” she told her reflection. “Irresistibly hot?” Only time would tell. Strolling over to the window she dared a peak outside. He wasn’t here yet. Would he come? Certainly Steve sounded convincing enough. The fifty dollar bill she planted in his palm was enough encouragement to make an actor out of him. She stood by his side while he made the call. If she hadn’t known better, she would have believed him. She sent him on his way after the call. No need for him to stick around for the fireworks—hopefully of a sexual nature.
The undeniable sound of tires crunching on gravel alerted her Nathan was here. And from the hurried sound of the truck coming to a stop, he wasn’t pleased. Silently she prayed her idea wouldn’t backfire. Hurrying from the room s he descended the stairs, hoping to greet him at the pool.
“What the fuck!” she heard him scream.
Too late. She wasn’t quick enough. Nathan knew and he wasn’t happy. Reese slowly opened the door and walked casually over to the pool where Nathan stood looking at the water, obviously trying to figure out where the emergency was.
Whipping around he demanded, “What s going on here?”
Lost for words Reese stood frozen in her spot. She hadn’t expected such anger. Yes, she tricked him into coming over. Maybe having Steve tell him the pool had turned an ugly color green that he couldn’t get rid of was a bad idea but she believed he’d be happy to see her. Boy was she mistaken.
“I-I-I put Steve up to it,” she confessed. “I didn’t think you would see me any other way.”
“Maybe if you picked up the phone you would have found out.” The disgust in his voice was evident.
He was pissed at her. Her plan was slowly crumbling before her eyes. She couldn’t risk losing him a second time. He couldn’t walk away out of her life. She loved him. God help her she loved him more than any man she’d ever loved in her life.
“Would you have come if I had ?” she challenged.
Looking away he shrugged.
“Then I was right to do what I did. I needed to see you, Nathan. You’ve been avoiding me. I’ve missed you.”
She watched him looking at the water. Was he searching for answers? Maybe there was hope for them after all.
Closing the gap between them, she touched his hand. “Please Nathan, look at me.”
He did as she asked and immediately her heart sank. Pain, deep pain, filled his eyes. Gone was the sparkle she loved so much, replaced with pain that cut to the core. Pain caused by her foolishness.
Touching his face she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“What’s done is done.” He tried pulling free but she refused to let him walk away.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“I wasn’t trying to compare you to Vince. It may have sounded that way at the time and I’m sorry. I love you for who you are, not because you’ve proven him wrong. It doesn’t matter to me what Vince thinks, or anyone else for that matter. The only thing that matters is what’s in here,” sh e said pointing to her heart. “And here.”She placed her hand over his heart.
She felt his heart beating rapidly through his tight black t-shirt. He covered her hand with his.
“Do you honestly believe you’ll be okay with what others think about us? Because as you’ve pointed out before I’m much younger than you.”
Until next month!
P.S. The winners of last months contest who still haven't claimed their prize are: Jean Hart Stewart and Mia Watts. If you'd like a copy of one of my releases hop over to http://amberskyze.blogspot.com/ and pick a title. Contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org with your choice and I'll send you the copy!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
I said, "I don't know what the hell it means, I don't even know if I believe this stuff. The only thing I know is that the last time someone told me Mercury was in retrograde, my life went to shit for thirty days...so whatever you do, don't sign anything until it's un-retrograde!"
I had my horoscope done once by a professional and yeah, it was amazingly accurate as far as predicting, not only my personality, but certain major life events, however, I don't read my horoscope. Just not into it. Yeah, I'm an Aries and I have an Aries (red-headed) temperament and I'm pushy and determined and impulsive and fiery and way bossy. But...can someone please explain what on earth it means when Mercury is in retrograde? I assume it means Mercury is spinning backwards and since Mercury is the God of messages, all messages get delivered in a big, incoherent jumble.
Open to suggestions readers...
Saturday, September 12, 2009
In the meantime. When my friend, Soveig Mclarent were on the short cruise we planned a murder mystery on a cruise ship. Very interesting. How do you get rid of a body? I asked the captain of our ship for assistance. I asked. "What do you do when a passenger goes missing?" He was terrific. Explained in detail what is done and when they have to call in the FBI or the RCMP, depending in which jurisdiction the ship is when the passenger disappears.
We took pictures of where and how we'd dump the body. Very interesting. Watch for further developments. We are planning a series. When I have my head together and have time to sit down and write I will clue you in.
In the meantime, check my web site, www.anitabirt.com for information about my five books published by Cerridwen Press. My historical romance, A Very Difficult Man, is available in trade paperback.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
So here's my random and pretty useless list of things I never want to see blogged about or on.
#1 Exactly what goes on behind your doctor's closed door. Leave us some mystery and our lunch.
#2 Politics. Yes, I am very well aware that America is a free country and founded on the principals of free speech. Yes, this is really happening with romance writers and their blogs. I don't get it. You want to ditch talking about your latest release or work in progress to trash a member of Congress, health care issues or whatever? Readers of your blog aren't interested in your political views, they are interested in how alpha you can make your hero or when your next book will be out or even better how hot you can make them sweat with your next love scene. Leave political opinions off your blog and everyone will be much happier. There's a time and place for everything and unless you're a political writer it has no place on your blog.
#3 Other authors, editors or publishers unless it's flattering don't tempt it. Some people forget that whatever we sent out into cyber space is never lost and available to general public anytime. Careless comments have a way of biting our butts when we least expect it. E-mails written to a friend in private can sometimes end up public fodder. I've seen and read many examples of writers venting in a letter to a trust friend, things they'd never say in a public forum. With one wrong click of the mouse or a carelessly typed address that venting has turned to bashing and there's no way to stop it, take it back or delete it. It's forever out there in cyber space waiting for just the wrong person to read it and start the cycle all over again. Be safe instead of sorry, keep your e-mails friendly and saving the trashing and bashing for your cell phone. After all, no one is perfect and we all need a stress outlet from time to time. Just remember to speak it, not type it and your butt and other body parts will be safe from any further chewing.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Some days I recline on the deck dreaming of new books or casually flip through some research material. I may even wonder what's happening with my writing career? Why the *!@$ isn't anything happening?
OK, now is not one of those times. Now EVERYTHING is happening, so I've learned to multitask. I'm trying to write a rough draft for a series my publisher is doing. It's due the end of October. While waiting for edits to come back on my currently contracted book, I started resurrecting an old manuscript, doing lots of polishing and researching. By the time I got really into it, guess what? The edits came back. And painful as it was, I had to put aside the project I was really into.
And the rough draft? I'll be lucky if I even remember my characters' names, much less their arcs. Oh, wait. That's right. I haven't even gotten around to naming them yet. (The heroine is not too happy about rolling in the hay with a guy who doesn't know her name.)
When writing was a hobby, I only worked on one book at a time and I polished to my heart's content until I was ready to let it loose. Now I have to keep all those plots and characters divided in my mind like sections of a grapefruit. I have file folders on the desk, on the floor, and in my tote bag. Thank goodness for file folders.
As long as I keep working, I may not finish anything but at least I'll get something done.
Unlock your darkest fantasies and brightest dreams...
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Q: Stacy, I'll be asking you some of the same questions I asked Sloane. To start things off, what made you decide to test games for the Naughty Games Company?
A: I thought about it for a long time. And my friend, Lorraine, kept pushing me to accept a "Game Testing" invitation. I walked into the main office ready to test a game, and hopefully find a way to "push" my own game idea.
Q: So, if Sloane wasn't going to be your partner, you would have tested games with someone else?
A: (Stacy turns bright red). Uh, that's tough to answer. I'd told Lorraine that my partner would have to be someone I knew, but I was relieved to see Sloane there. (she frowns) Actually, I was still mad at him but my hormones starting rampaging the minute I saw him. I'm not sure I would have said I'd test games with someone else.
Q: What game did you enjoy the most?
A: (A big grin crosses Stacy's face) Definitely has to be the Nerdy Professor and the Stripper. Wow. He was so needy and naive, and I...I mean Lola...got to teach him everything. I kinda enjoyed dressing up in that costumes, although I did have to practice walking in those five-inch heels and gyrating so the tassels of my pasties would twirl. Got to dance but without a pole!
Q: How about the Sheik and Bride-to-be scenario?
A: He looked so yummy in that costume. I got to dance in that one, too. And once my character, Fatima, gave into her own lusty feelings, things progressed quickly. (She leans in closer to me) And, I loved that edible Jasmine oil!
Q: I understand you found creative ways to have sex on your "off" night from testing games. Tell me about that.
A: (Stacy laughs) We weren't supposed to have sex on our "off" nights, but managed to satisfy our hunger for sex. You know, "telling" each other what to do or what you're doing or just watching each other satisfy your own needs sends each partner into overdrive, climax and sexual release. We couldn't touch, but had a great time!
Q: I heard a rumor about you two in a movie theatre. So...
A: Uh. I don't think we should talk about that. I mean, being in public and... No, let's have another question.
Q: Hmm. I think we're missing something about your escapade in the movies but we'll move on. Tell me about the last role-playing game you played..."The Lady and Her Butler".
A: (Stacy relaxes) Nice one, except that Sloane seemed distant and bothered by something, although he played his role perfectly. I enjoyed being the novice virgin and made sure I learned quickly as my role card suggested. Got to get in a bathtub with Sloane and enjoyed the bubbles popping around us.
Q: Trouble between you two developed. Tell us about those.
A: Uh, every romance has something or someone blocking their path. (Stacy shrugs her shoulders) Ours was no different. You'll have to read the book to find out what almost kept us apart.
Q: Anything else we should know about you or the book?
A: I had a great time playing the games and get to keep the costumes...for future use. Read the book and find out how we played games...and spent our "off" time...and what things almost separated us forever.
You can get more information about "Sexy Games" by April Ash at www.aprilash.net. In the "My Books" section you can read a blurb and click on a notation under the blurb to read three excerpts...one for each role-playing scenario. "Sexy Games" is available at:
Also, visit www.mariannestephens.net for information on my mainstream romance books.
Monday, September 7, 2009
I didn't really expect the promo bit when I was focused in on being published. Now fourteen books later I'm juggling my time like a circus clown. That's was enough venting, but if any of you have ideas to help, what promo works the best, etc. do let me know. AARRRGHHHH!
Guess I was feeling unusually frustrated, and then last night I had an interesting dream. My current hero (Jono in 'Quest for Magic', book 5 in the Songs of the Mages series)) is undergoing an emotional awakening so maybe that's what triggered it. In my dream a good friend of mine and I had gone to a second hand shop looking for a desk for her. I love second hand shops, by the way. We found a lovely little desk and loaded it in her car somehow. Don't know quite how. Maybe it was a station wagon, but I not only dislike them but have a bad back that should have made me of no help. I'm not loading anything when awake! Anyway we got it to her place, carried it to her office and she left me to do something or other. This is a dream, remember. They can be short on logical details if you want them to be. While she was gone I was cleaning out the desk for her and found an old coin wedged in the back of one of the drawers. Don't ask my everybody else had missed it, this is still a dream. I knew enough about old British coins to know this was an exceptionally valuable gold pound piece. Worth beaucoup bucks. (I don't know much about them at all, but again, this is MY dream, so don't quibble.)
Anyway I stood there looking at it, wondering who it belonged to? Me? My friend?
The consignment shop owner? Doubtful, but if we reported it to her would she track down the former owner or pocket it? The former owner? The desk was old enough it probably had several owners. Which one do you pick?
Finders keepers doesn't seem quite right here. Or does it?
Some dreams are fun....
Friday, September 4, 2009
Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door. ~Saul Bellow
Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. ~From the television show The Wonder Years
As for the heroine of Lost Memories, Honie, she's desperate to find a way to regain those memories and feelings. She feels lost and disconnected without the memories taken from her.
Did I mention that it releases on September Sixteenth? And that this is it's awesome cover.
Lost Memories Blurb:
Honie is trying to regain the lost pieces of her memory. Escorting a small group of shifters, she finds her mate among the crew and is torn between desire and fury. She can’t deny her body aches for his, but doesn’t know if she can forgive him for leaving her.
Mace believed his mate was dead and is elated she’s alive. He’s determined to break through her anger and uses the journey to reestablish the bond between them. If his words can’t soothe her anger, maybe a little hot sex will help.
Sparks fly between them and searing glances become heated caresses and sated sighs. But their mission takes them into danger and they’ll have to trust each other to survive.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
I was recounting the story of a woman who had asked for a Tarot reading last Sunday. To cut a long story short, she was unhappy with her life. Her husband of 20 years (and father of her five children) was having affairs, and wasn't there for her.
Needless to say, the cards just told her to get her act together, decide what she wanted to do, and do it (though not in those terms!).
But once a doormat... I'd like to think she went home and really thought about things, and acted on them. I'll never know.
But so many of the people who ask for readings are desperate for solutions. Once they might have confided in a family member, a friend, or pastor. Now they come to a stranger and a set of cardboard rectangles. It's very sad, and an indictment on our society.
What happened to the Empoyerment of Women?
It's a very worrying trend. What happened to the New Man? Are we, as romance writers, closing our eyes to the awful truth/ What do you think?