Have a list of authors whose works you adore? Whose words speak to you over and over again? Ones that give you that warm fuzzy—or scorching erotic feel you love?
My buddy Desiree Holt does that for me, every time, big time.
She and I begin a new series on each of our blogs starting tomorrow, wherein we give you a hot jolt of goodness as a blast from the past!
Join us on the 1st and 15th of each month here on my blog and over on hers, too, for OLDIES BUT GOODIES, aka Books you may have missed that you certainly do not want to!
See http://desireeholttellsall.com
Facts, fun, drama of writing fiction by Cerise! (copyright 2009-2024, Cerise DeLand)
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Strong Female Characters? Michelle Birbeck gives the scoop!
Michelle's site: www.michellebirbeck.co.uk |
I
saw a Q&A by Joss Wheadon that’s been going around tumblr for a while, and
it got me thinking about the subject in question.
The
Q&A was: So, why do you write these strong female characters? A: Because
you’re still asking me that question.
Well,
this inspired my own question, which is this: How can people NOT write strong
female characters?
I
can’t do it. No matter how hard I try, I really struggle to write weak ass,
whiney women who do nothing but snivel and wait for a man to come rescue her.
Screw that.
Now,
don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of being rescued on occasion by a big
strong man, with lots of muscles, dressed in leather, carrying weapons… sorry,
I’m getting off track there. But I don’t need
a man to come rescue me. And neither do my characters.
When
I was writing The Last Keeper, it never occurred to me at any point to write
anything but strong female
characters. I wanted them to have weaknesses, but those weaknesses weren’t what
defined them.
Serenity,
Poppy, and Helen are three of my favourite examples of what I think are strong
female characters.
Serenity
has lived through hell. She saw the destruction of her entire race, held her
brother and sister as they died. For over half of her three thousand years of
life she’s had to watch as her race was hunted down and slaughtered.
Then
she meets Ray, and everything looks up. She’s got her man, the one person in
the world meant for her. But loving him doesn’t make her weak. Being at her
happiest when she’s with him doesn’t mean she’s incapable of being happy on her
own.
And
when she loses him and breaks down, that doesn’t make her weak, either. Most of
us would break down when we lose a loved one. It’s the getting up and carrying
on, going on with her duties as last of her race, and being there for her
family when she feels like hell, that makes her strong. It’s the fact that despite
everything she’s been through, she still has it in her to get up, go out, do
the things she has to, and plaster a smile across her face. Even though that
smile is a fake one.
Then
there’s Poppy. Most feared female vampire in the world. She gave the vampire’s
ruling body, The Seats, everything they ever wanted. A sadistic way to hunt
down disobedient underlings, one that they took great delight in for centuries.
She fought her way to the top of her male dominated world, and made them
worship her.
But
then she gave up everything she had to be with the man she loved. Not because
he asked her to, but because she wanted to. And let me tell you, when Serenity
says Poppy is the only one who ever left The Seats willingly, she means it. No
one leaves The Seats. Not unless it’s feet first. No one even gains a place
among The Seats without years of servitude and fighting. But Poppy did. She forced
them to give her a place, and she fought her way out of it in search of a
better life. To me, that makes her one of the strongest characters I’ve
written, purely because she had to fight so hard for everything she wanted.
But
perhaps Helen is the strongest of all my female characters in The Last Keeper.
She lost her partner, her parents. She watched Serenity fall apart at every
loss over the years. She stood tall through everything and gave her all to keep
those she loved safe. Yet where Poppy and Serenity are immortals in the book,
Helen is basically human. She has no extra powers, no ability to heal herself,
and isn’t immortal. Yet if she has to kick Serenity’s backside from here to the
other side of the world, then she’d do it. Despite everything she knows, the
loses she’s felt, she puts everyone else first, stands tall in the face danger,
and doesn’t let anything stand in her way.
So
in all honesty, I don’t understand writing weak female characters who just want
a man to come provide for them and take care of them. We all have moments of
weakness; we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t. But those weaknesses shouldn’t be
what define us, and they shouldn’t be what define our characters, either.
I
did try writing a female character once who wasn’t strong—she certainly wasn’t
weak, either—but I got about half way through the first chapter before I threw
the whole thing out and started again. At this point I don’t ever seen me
writing any characters who aren’t capable of standing on their own two feet and
giving everything they have for what they want and what they believe in.
About
Me:
Michelle
is 29 and has been reading and writing her whole life. Her earliest memory of
books was when she was five and decided to try and teach her fish how to read
by putting her Beatrix Potter books in the fish tank with them.
Since
then her love of books has grown, and now she is writing her own and looking
forward to seeing them on her shelves, though they won’t be going anywhere near
the fish tank.
When
she’s not writing, she’s out and about on her motorbike or sitting with her
head in a book.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Naughty Sleepover for readers of erotica!
A convention with BDSM demo, sex toy demo and male strippers?
Really?
Yes! Here's one you won't EVER FORGET!
The Sassy Seven's Naughty Sleepover in February in San Antonio at The Menger Hotel.
And for ladies who want to have a great weekend, laughing and learning about stuff that perhaps you've not known too much about before, this is your weekend. In a safe environment. Controlled. Only with other women.
Women who read erotica.
Women who write it.
Women who enjoy getting away from their significant others and maybe taking home a bit of knowledge to spice up their love life.
And if that cake needs icing, we have all of this:
- GIVEAWAYS of books and bling.
- A great little city that you can safely walk in.
- A hotel, historic and comfortable, as well as affordable.
- The Alamo across the street, just in case you need a shot of history with your strippers, BDSM demo, line dancing, fun games and Tex-Mex dining.
- A conference fee that includes 4 meals and one Chocolate Extravaganza.
- Authors to schmooze with.
- Editors to pitch your story idea to!
- Sassy Seven babes who are giving away tee shirts, books, bling of their own!
- Raffle baskets.
- (Yes, you will need another suitcase cuz your carry-on will NOT hold all this!)
- And love.
- So what are you waiting for?
- Got to http://sassyseven.com
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Thrills, chills and smokin' hot lovin' FATAL SUBMISSION out now by Nicole Austin!
http://www.jasminejade.com/p-10289-fatal-submission.aspx |
Yeah, you know you want it all!
New erotica horror by my pal, Nicole Austin, Fatal Submission!
Claire Hanson is a submissive in need of a Dom. Finding one in rural Illinois in 1981 is no easy feat but her requirements are simple. Forget complicated limit lists, take charge and give her lots of hot, sweaty sex. On edge, body humming with arousal, Claire aches to have her desires sated. And ruggedly handsome Dominant Mason Burke is the man she wants. But for Mason work comes first and Claire’s tired of waiting.
Mason’s loss is Dr. Carl Skinner’s lucky break. The bonus—Carl’s a rich, drop-dead gorgeous Dom with a real dungeon in his basement. Getting what you want isn’t always a good thing and the game takes a drastic turn Claire never saw coming. According to the Dungeon Master’s victims who still haunt his torture chamber, submission has fatal consequences and she’s running out of time.
Reader Advisory: This scary tale contains graphic scenes of erotic torture and violence that may cause the reader to stay up late reading with all the lights on.
An Excerpt From: FATAL SUBMISSION
Copyright © NICOLE AUSTIN, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Claire ran a brush through her hair, grabbed the checklist and walked the few blocks. A cheery bell tinkled as she opened the door to find the ice cream parlor empty. She picked a table facing the glass shop front and waited.
Did Mason do this to her on purpose? She always seemed to be waiting on him. She understood his business was relatively new and required long hours. Still, constantly waiting grew old fast.
When his Bronco pulled up outside she glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes late. He strolled toward her table, calm and in control.
“Hello, Claire.” No apology. Mason simply nodded toward the refrigerated cases. “Did you pick a flavor?”
“Not yet.” Hearing the irritation in her voice, she made an effort to lighten her tone. “I was waiting for you.”
He held out a hand to help her up and didn’t let go as they perused the offerings. Once they each had a cone they sat on a bench outside. Mason looked over the checklist without comment then locked it in his car.
“It’s a nice day. How about a walk?”
She nodded and they took a leisurely stroll, stopping every so often to window shop. As usual, Mason was in no hurry, their conversation casual.
“Why did you become a property appraiser? What drew you to the business?”
“I used to be a real estate agent, which was an okay job but I’m not a good salesperson. I do like buildings though, especially older ones.” She thought back on her childhood daydreams, how she’d stand outside a building and try to picture the interior layout.
“My friend works in a bank and complained about the excessive wait for appraisals because no one in our area did them so I checked into it.” She licked her ice cream for a moment as she remembered how everything had just clicked. “Turned out it suited me. I get to make my own hours, meet new people, use my math skills and indulge my curiosity.”
Mason nodded as if he read more into her explanation than she’d said. “And how did you discover you were a submissive?”
She didn’t even attempt to hold back a wicked grin. “Guy I was dating got invited to a munch and took me. The more I learned about BDSM the more interested I became. At first he was into it, thought it was fun. After a while he lost interest but I didn’t.” She shrugged. “We broke up and I continued to explore. Like the job, it suited me.”
Yes, there was a great deal more to it but same as with her job, getting into BDSM she’d felt the pieces click into place.
“So you’ve always been happiest when seeing to the needs of others. A true, natural submissive.”
Claire stopped in her tracks and stared at Mason for a long moment. How the hell did he do it? A bit of general small talk and he saw deeper into her heart than lifelong friends ever had. Deeper than even she had seen.
“You adapt, changing yourself to please those you love.”
He dropped that bomb so casually, as if making a general observation but getting right to the heart of the matter. And it made sense. It put several pieces of her life together. Made her take a second look at the big decisions and changes. Each and every one had been sparked by the needs of others.
At heart she was a nurturer, a caretaker. When someone she cared about needed something, Claire did whatever she could to fill the need. She’d done so her entire life and never made the connection.
“When’s the last time you did something because it pleased you?”
Good question. Racking her brain, she came up blank. She couldn’t think of one instance where something she’d done had been just for her. As she thought, Mason’s ice cream melted, a slow-moving river of chocolate rolling over his fingers.
Her first instinct was to reach out with her napkin and wipe the chocolate away for him. But what did she want? What would please her?
She’d love to taste both the ice cream and Mason.
Claire took a step closer, held his wrist with her free hand and acted without overthinking it. She moved even closer, stuck out her tongue and watched his expression from beneath her lashes as she slowly licked the chocolate from his hand.
Mason’s intense, ice-blue eyes heated, filling with lust. When she reached the top of his hand, she swirled her tongue around the ice cream, imagining it was his cock. She circled the scoop of chocolate, humming in appreciation of the flavor. His entire body tensed and she knew he pictured the same thing she did.
Glancing down, she noted the hard length of his erection outlined by the faded denim extending from his groin all the way across his right hip. Long and thick and hard.
Meeting his gaze, she blurted out what was on her mind. “It would please me to taste you, Mason. To drop to my knees, wrap my fist around your shaft and suck your cock to the back of my throat.”
He closed his eyes and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard then took several slow, measured breaths.
A naughty grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she watched him struggle to regain his composure. That little crack in his hard veneer gave her wicked ideas. She wondered how much teasing it would take to push Mason over the edge and out of control. Finding out would be fun.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
"Writing is outstanding...characters stole my heart!:" 5 Roses for my ROPE ME IN!
Aug132012
Rope Me In by Cerise DeLand
Series: Knights in Black Leather (# 1)
Release Date: May 18, 2012
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
Pages: 139
Source: Publisher
Series: Knights in Black Leather (# 1)
Release Date: May 18, 2012
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
Pages: 139
Source: Publisher
In Bravado, Texas, the men are good and plenty…and lonely. Not inclined to remain horny bachelors, the three MacRae brothers devise a plan to find one fine woman and get the good lovin’ they deserve. One gander at the new gal in town, charming Cara Ford, and the cowboys decide to do some old-fashioned courting. Then they’ll offer her a thoroughly modern deal—all three of them, just for luscious, lovely her.Cara has returned to Bravado to rebuild her life after cutting the cord to her self-centered husband. One man was a pain. Why would she want to tie herself to three ranchers known for their wildcattin’, no matter how sexy? Undeterred, Jed, Harry and Will rope her into their daily lives, sweet-talk her into sharing their torrid nights, and set out to convince her that three hard-lovin’ men in bed is better than one.
Review: Rope Me In by Cerise DeLand is a hot erotic romance about three sexy cowboy brothers who have been searching for the perfect woman.
Cara Ford grew up in Bravado, Texas following the MacRae brothers around with a huge school girl crush on them. When she was fifteen her family’s home burned down and they moved away. Now, years later, she is a grown woman recovering from a bad marriage. She has moved back to Bravado to go into business with her aunt. The MacRae brothers are still single and she has seen each of them around town. Rumors have her curious about the brothers, and then a package mix-up gives her the perfect opportunity to go visit the ranch and maybe find out if the rumors are true.
I very highly recommend this book and give it a rating of 5 out of 5! The writing is outstanding and the characters stole my heart. I couldn’t pick a favorite of the three MacRae brothers because I think I’m in love with all of them. I really liked Cara and was rooting for her the whole way. She’s strong and independent, but she’s not perfect. She’s flawed like the rest of us. The character development is great and we get to know each of the brothers. They are alike in some ways and yet each one is their own person with different personalities. Cara is still wounded from her marriage and she still struggles with issues from that. Not only are they getting to know each other, but Cara is learning things about herself as well.
I was completely hooked from the very start and couldn’t stand to put it down for even a minute. The heat level is extremely high, but there’s more to the story than just erotica. There’s family drama, small town drama, and romance. It’s a bit mysterious as we get to know each brother and anticipate how things are going to turn out. I thoroughly enjoyed this book from start to finish. At about 139 pages it’s a nice length because it’s long enough to give the reader a chance to really get to know the characters and their story, but without having to get into an overly long novel. I have been wanting to read Ms DeLand’s books for a while, but this is the first one I have had a chance to read. I am definitely a new fan.
*****
THANK YOU SO MUCH to Romancing the Book for this lovely review. Soooo tickled your reviewer, Michelle, loved it! : http://romancing- the-book. com/2012/ 08/review- rope-me-in- by-cerise- deland.html
*****
THANK YOU SO MUCH to Romancing the Book for this lovely review. Soooo tickled your reviewer, Michelle, loved it! : http://romancing- the-book. com/2012/ 08/review- rope-me-in- by-cerise- deland.html
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Yummy York! PUSHING HER BUTTONS by SABRINA YORK!
I am so excited about my new release, Pushing her Buttons, which comes out on August 22nd, but
is now available
for preorder on Amazon and Barnes
& Noble. This novella was the first place winner of the Celtic Hearts
Novellas Need Love Too contest and named the 2011 Distinguished Novella of the
year and tells the story of a woman battling between her desire for a dark
dominant man and her fears of being consumed by those desires.
If you like super hot sex, domination and kinky play, this
one’s for you!
Pushing Her Buttons
by Sabrina York
Every single day, he’s there. Waiting. Watching her. Closed
in with her for a hundred stories as they ride the elevator to their floor. And
every single day, for a hundred floors, Samantha simmers with banked lust. She
wants him—her mysterious neighbor who seems to get off on tempting her. Whose
eyes promise the kind of kinky domination she’s too afraid to give in to. And
then just when she thinks she’s safe, just when she’s convinced she can resist
his allure, he steps up his relentless pursuit. The passion that flares between
them burns so hot and so bright it could consume them both. But that’s just on
the way up. Who knows what will happen when they’re going down.
Reader Advisory: Samantha’s sexy neighbor tries to drive her
wild with lust, and he’ll stop at nothing to succeed. Spanking? Of course.
Leather straps? You bet. Girl-on-girl action? Oh yeah. Wear your
flame-retardant panties while reading this one.
An Excerpt From:
PUSHING HER BUTTONS
Copyright © SABRINA
YORK, 2012
All Rights Reserved,
Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
Wednesday
I
almost got off the elevator when he stepped on, that slick sophisticated
creature oozing with masculinity, the man who haunted my dreams. He could turn
me into a bundle of jangled, weeping nerves with a look.
So I
didn’t look.
This
took some effort.
I
wanted to, was drawn to the energy, the intensity, the heat rolling off him in
waves. Instead I diligently studied the sleek chrome of the elevator doors as
they slid silently shut.
We
were alone, together, in a box. Again. For a hundred floors.
“Going
up?” His voice was a slithering snake, raspy, undulating and smooth.
I
nodded. A short, curt dip of my head.
From
the corner of my eye, I watched as he pressed the button for our floor. His
thumb was long and blunt. He did it slowly, caressing the face. As though
making a promise.
And
all the while, he stared at me. Tracking my every reaction. Taking in the rise
of my breast, the quick dash of my tongue on suddenly dry lips, the quiver of a
lash.
This
unrelenting attention made my skin prickle, my nipples swell.
I
riffled in my purse for a stick of gum. There was no gum but I riffled anyway.
Honestly.
How long could an elevator ride last? I focused on the lights of the header,
ignoring his presence. Desperately trying to, at least, as his searing gaze
lingered and stroked.
I
was managing quite well, thank you very much.
Until
he did it.
He
made a noise I couldn’t ignore. It was something feral, between a grunt and a
moan. A sound a lion might make, unconsciously, distractedly, upon sighting a
particularly juicy gazelle. Or a female in heat.
I
was not a female in heat.
More
than one man had commented on my frigidity. The idiots. My coolness was merely
a reflection of their ineptitude.
This
man was probably not inept. A frightening truth for someone like me.
The
sound, the growl, the urgent hungry groan, washed through me in a vibrating
bass.
I
punched the button for our floor several times in succession. It was a tell and
I knew it, but I couldn’t help myself. Panic rose in my throat as the heat he
sent off swirled around me, sank in and settled in my belly.
His
interest in me had never been a secret. He’d tried flirting and sweet talk,
he’d asked me out more than once but I always shot him down. I knew what kind
of man he was. He had that vibe, that look, that alluring menace.
I
knew what he was, for God’s sake. I could smell it, feel it, taste it. I’d been
there before and sworn I’d never go there again.
Any
woman with a pulse would think him attractive, what with that sable hair
flopping onto his forehead, that square dented chin, that boyish insouciance
belied by a satyr’s smirk. And, ah. Those deep-brown eyes ringed with sinful
sooty lashes. Those exquisitely molded lips. That hard athlete’s physique.
But
not every woman would notice the simmering passion, the sultry sadism that
called to a woman like me. Telegraphed in secret code. Tapping. Tapping on my
nerves.
I
did not want a man like that. Not anymore. A man like that would eat me alive.
Against
my will, I caught a glimpse of his chiseled reflection in the chrome. He’d
opened his suit jacket and tucked his fingers into the front pockets of his
slacks. He leaned like a lazy panther against the mirrored wall and tipped his
head back, studying the ceiling. His long legs were crossed at the ankles,
showcasing immaculate Ferragamos gleaming with a high gloss. A crooked grin
tugged at his luscious lips.
Mercy.
Those lips.
Heat
sizzled through me as I imagined those lips on me, sucking, nuzzling, nipping.
But
that would never happen. He was not my type and I was not his. I wasn’t.
I
told myself to look away but I didn’t do it quickly enough.
He
straightened as we neared our floor. Adjusted his jacket. Shook out his pants.
Raked his thick dark curls…
And
caught my gaze in the mirror. Caught me staring hungrily.
Horrified
by this wash of vulnerability, I turned my head. Our eyes locked again but this
time directly, intimately, across the car. Tangled, tied.
His
body stiffened, nostrils flared, pupils dilated. He leaned slightly, almost
imperceptibly, toward me. His scent, his aura intensified. He held me immobile
by the sheer power of his intent.
And
then he licked his lips.
Something
within me liquefied. My knees went weak and I nearly dropped my briefcase. Who
knows what would have happed, what could have happened, if the elevator hadn’t
opened at just that moment?
The
welcome ding snapped me out of this lazy, hazy daze. I clutched my briefcase to
my chest and rushed through the doors almost before they were open, doing a
determined power walk to my penthouse.
He
followed, slowly stalking. I didn’t hesitate. I waved my keycard over the lock
and slipped inside. To safety.
I
tried not to look back. Really. I did. It was only a quick glance but the sight
of him standing next to his double-doored entrance, pinning me with a
heavy-lidded gaze, rocketed through me like a fist to my solar plexus. There
was heat in his eyes. And hunger. And certainty.
I
shut the door, shutting him out. Shutting it out. He wasn’t my type. I wasn’t
his.
A
man like that could destroy the woman I was, melt the
mask I had worked so hard to forge. I refused to think about him. I refused to
want him.
I
didn’t sleep all night.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Remedies for Writer's Block! Kate Hill's got 'em!
Some days I feel like I can accomplish just about anything.
I have a steady flow of ideas and I can write for hours. Other days it’s hard
to complete a single sentence. Since consistency is a main ingredient in
finishing a story, those days when I don’t feel like writing are frustrating to
say the least.
Everyone has their own way of getting through those low
periods and I thought I’d share mine and ask what others do when they’re in the
same situation.
If I have a day when it’s actual writer’s block that’s
stopping me from working, I’ve found that putting aside my current story and
writing something else helps. If I write whatever catches my interest at the
moment, it gets my creative juices flowing.
Sometimes the ideas are there, but I have something else on
my mind or I’m just feeling down. When that happens I tend to get lazy and
would rather hang around than get work done. One thing that almost always gets
me out of that state of mind is exercise. For me daily exercise makes me feel
energized but also relaxed and helps me focus on work. Sometimes a little extra
exercise, even for a short time, is all I need to lift my spirits so I can get
back to work.
There are times when the desire to work isn’t the problem,
but I’m stuck at a certain plot point. I can write, rewrite and turn over
dozens of ideas, but nothing seems to work. In that situation, I try to find
something that relaxes me. On thing that almost never fails to clear up any
problem I’m having with a scene is to take a warm shower. It might sound crazy,
but it seems like as soon as I’m in the shower, ideas start flowing. The
biggest problem is trying to write down all the scenes in my head while I’m
dripping wet.
What are some of your favorite ways to relax and get
focused? Do any specific activities help stimulate your creativity?
About Kate
Kate Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing
romantic fantasies. When she's not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading,
working out, and researching vampires and Viking history. You can visit her online at http://www.kate-hill.com
Coming in August 2012
Alaskan Flame
by Kate Hill
From Changeling Press
Blurb:
The son of a sex
demon and a fallen angel, Oliver struggles to keep his libido under control
while on duty as a shadowing angel in the wilderness of Alaska. He needs help
and it arrives in the form of a sexy, no-nonsense former demon.
Henrie, a shadowing
angel with experience, is the perfect woman to assist a man desperate to regain
his self-control. What she discovers is he actually needs to cut loose,
especially on the evil forces that are secretly plotting to destroy him.
The following excerpt from
ALASKAN FLAME is for readers 18 and over.
Henrie awoke with an
uneasy feeling. Her muscles tightened and she sat up quickly.
Oliver stood near
the dresser, searching through her open travel bag.
He held up a red
lace bra and sniffed it. "Interesting."
"What the hell
are you doing?" she demanded, springing out of bed, not caring that she
might as well have been naked. Her snug T-shirt, the material so thin it was
see-through, and tiny boy shorts offered little coverage.
His smoldering gaze
swept her. "I didn't think you'd mind if I looked through your things--not
after you helped yourself to mine."
If she hadn't been
so furious, she'd have been taken aback.
He tossed the bra
aside and continued his search. He pulled out specially made handcuffs that
were strong enough to restrain most demons.
He smiled. "Are
these for business or pleasure?"
"None of your
damn business."
He tugged her red
and black flogger out of the bag. "Even more interesting."
"Get your claws
off my stuff!" Henrie picked up the bra and several other items he'd
carelessly discarded and shoved them back into the bag. She grasped the flogger
and tried to take it from him, but he refused to let it go. Glaring at him, she
said, "Drop it. You have no business looking in my bag."
"But you can
search my closet and that's no problem?"
"What makes you
think--"
"Give me some
credit." He scoffed.
"That's not the
point. Give me my flogger."
"Maybe you'd
prefer a spanking." His eyes glistened and he pulled the flogger away and
wrapped the leather tails around his fist.
"I don't take
'em. I give 'em. And if you don't return my property, I will whip your
ass."
His smile broadened.
"Promise?"
"If you're in
the mood for games, maybe your issues out here aren't so big after all. If
Rutendo finds out you bothered him and me because you're just a lonely
little boy, he won't be too happy."
"Oh
please." He raised his eyes to heaven. "You're actually threatening
to tell daddy."
Despite his bravado
he tossed the flogger to her.
She caught it,
stepped closer and placed the handle under his chin. Curling her lip, she said,
"We both know Rutendo isn't your daddy. How about telling me the name of
the angel who is?"
The rage in his eyes
nearly took her aback, but she stood her ground, waiting for him to answer.
"My parentage
is none of your business."
"Since it's the
only thing Rutendo told me about you, I'd say it's important to my assignment
here. That makes it my business."
"Apparently
Rutendo has already told you everything you need to know."
"You act like a
child and I'm not the maternal type. If you do one more thing to piss me off,
I'm out of here, got it?"
"Go on then. I
asked Rutendo for help, not hindrance."
"Hind. .
.whether I leave or not I'm going to have to kick your ass."
Maybe it was too
many months of being good, but she hadn't felt this kind of passion in. . .
Too long.
By his scent and the
look in his eyes, he was just as aroused. Or annoyed. Or an intriguing
combination of both.
Watch it. He's
half sex demon.
And she'd dealt with
many of his kind before. After all, hadn't Rutendo said Oliver could benefit
from her brand of discipline?
"Kiss my
ass?" he said with feigned innocence.
"Kick
your ass!"
Leaning so close
that the tip of his nose touched hers, he said, "Either one sounds
fun."
That was all Henrie
could take. Grasping her flogger, she shifted to her winged form and shoved
Oliver so hard in the chest that he stepped back, hit the bed and flopped onto
his back.
She raised the
flogger and as it fell, he grasped it, the tendrils wrapping around his arm. At
that moment he shifted to his winged form and tugged her on top of him. In a
blink he pinned her beneath him on the bed. He was lean but rock-hard and his
body as hot as the flames of hell.
Both furious and
aroused, Henri snapped her sharp teeth at his throat--more a warning than a
bite intended to do real harm. He jerked back before her fangs actually reached
his flesh.
"Was that a
love bite, Henrie?" he purred, his blue eyes blazing.
"Who could love
you?"
"Okay, who
cares about love. How about a fuck?"
She was tempted to
say yes.
"You want it. I
can smell it." He dipped his head toward her breasts and inhaled. Then he
held her gaze again. "I can see it. Like I said before. You're full of
hellfire. We might be shadowing angels, but some things can't ever be driven
out of us no matter how hard we try."
"You're
right," she said, her voice just above a whisper.
His lashes lowered
over his eyes and he dipped his head toward hers. Just before he kissed her,
she shifted her weight and managed to push him off her.
She stood, avoiding
his grasp.
"This isn't
right," she said, her heart pounding. She paced the room, glancing at the
half naked hunk sprawled across her bed. He raised himself on his elbows, the
motion tightening the muscles in his sleek stomach. His long legs parted and
the muscles in his thighs, not to mention his bulging crotch, strained against
his black trousers. His long fingers rested over the flogger and his intense
blue eyes followed her every motion.
"Just because
it isn't right doesn't necessarily make it wrong," he said.
"Oh that's just
great. A little demonic philosophy."
"I'm not a
demon anymore."
"Neither am
I," she said fiercely, because at the moment she felt more demonic than
she had in years.
"Denial is an
ugly thing, isn't it?"
"From what I
found in your closet, I'm guessing you don't abstain much."
He grinned and rose
swiftly, pointing at her with a long finger. "So you did search my
stuff."
"Okay I
apologize. Rutendo didn't tell me much about you so I needed to find out."
"You could have
asked."
"And given you
the chance to lie?"
"Are you always
this much of a skeptic?"
"Show me a
shadowing angel who isn't."
He shrugged.
"You've got me there. Is that men's cologne you're wearing?"
"Yeah,
why?" She liked wearing men's fragrance. It made her feel sexy. Powerful.
His eyes gleamed
with lust and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Come here." His
mouth descended on hers.
Henrie had seen the
kiss coming. She could have rejected him again. Something told her he wouldn't
push the issue. However she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her.
She parted her lips
and her tongue met his thrust for thrust. Closing her eyes, she moaned softly
and trailed her long, sharp nails up his back, knowing that she left marks.
Was this sin? No,
there were far worse things than a pair of shadowing angels letting off
proverbial steam.
He broke the kiss
and stepped back just enough to hold the flogger between them. "Are you
really any good with this?"
Her hand closed over
his around the handle. Their gazes locked and she leaned nearer to speak
against his lips. "You have no idea."
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The Other End of the Bookshelf? A man who writes erotic romance, Tim Smith tells us where that is!
I’m a man who writes straight contemporary erotic romance.
Now that we have that out of the way and if you’re still
reading, allow me to present my credentials. I’ve been a published author for
ten years. I have nine books out and two more slated for release later this
year. One of my books is a bestseller and I’ve won several literary awards.
I’ve done personal appearances from Chicago to New York to Key West, and many
points in between. I blog two or three times a month and usually get good
responses. My books have consistently received above-average reviews.
http://www.amazon.com/Lido-Key-Vic-Fallon-ebook/dp/B0081NXWLC/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1336682390&sr=1-2 |
I grew an armadillo’s hide a long time ago because I’ve spent
many years working in a field populated mostly by women and I’m accustomed to
being one of the only men in the office. Gender-specific remarks and jokes
don’t bother me but in the world of romance stories, there seems to be a bias
in some circles, an unwritten rule that says “No guys allowed.”
A couple of review sites told me flat out that they wouldn’t
review a romance written by a man unless it was male/male. One publisher said
the only way they would consider my submission was if I used a pseudonym so
their readers wouldn’t think a man wrote it. At book festivals and RomCons I’ve
been shunned by readers and bloggers, and one well-known author actually
laughed in my face when I told her what I write. I’ve also been shot down on
chat boards with the opinion “a man can’t write a believable romance.” I’d like
to counter that one with the following review quotes, all for different
books.
“The sensual scenes are beautifully written and perfectly
illustrate the evolving emotion and attraction between the characters.”
“Tim Smith has a great deal of talent for writing erotic
scenes.”
“I enjoyed reading The
Sweet Distraction as it gave me a new perspective of the male/female
relationship from a guy’s viewpoint.”
“Anywhere the Heart
Goes is a fun, enjoyable romp through the often confusing world of
relationships. It artfully and humorously portrays the eternal struggle of men
and women in their complicated dance of getting along.”
“This is a beautiful portrayal of an evolving romance
between two individuals.”
Please don’t think I’m complaining, because I’m not. I’m
truly grateful for the successes I’ve had and for being accepted by many
readers and peers. A wise person once said “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” I
suppose the point I’m trying to make is “Don’t judge an author by their
gender.” You might miss out on something pretty good.
Bio:
Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling
author and a freelance photographer. His latest release is the romantic mystery
Lido Key from eXtasy Books. More
information about his books can be found at his website, www.timsmithauthor.com.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Can Bad Boys Be Good? Welcome Kathy Kulig!
Can bad boys, I mean really bad
boys, be redeemed and become heroes? That question will be answered, at least
for demon Dante Akanto, in my new release from Ellora’s Cave Damned and Defiant. Readers love the
Alpha male and many times there’s a tortured side that makes these Alpha guys
lean toward a dark side. I asked a few friends to come up with a few movies
where the bad guy was redeemed. Redemption stories can be very powerful stories
and creates lots of conflict in a romance novel.
One on my favorite movies I think is
a great example of bad boy redeemed is Pitch
Black with Vin Diesel as Riddick. He plays a dangerous criminal
marooned on a sun-scorched planet with deadly creatures that come out when the
sun goes down. He’s their savior as the survivors struggle to fight for their
lives. Another movie is Return of the
Jedi. Darth Vader has been the evil villain throughout the series, and
in this movie, he becomes a father trying to save his son. Other characters
and/or movies: Jack Sparrow in Pirates
of the Caribbean, The Good, The Bad, The Ugly, Tim Robbins in Shawshank Redemption, Megamind and Marko Ramius in Hunt For Red October. In
National Treasure 2, Book of Secrets, the bad archeologist
sacrifices himself to save others, even
the Terminator performs an act of
heroism in one of the remakes.
When I planned the three-book
story arc for Demon in Exile I knew
Dante Akanto wasn’t the worst of the bad guys, Gwyllain, the demoness and ruler
of Anartia was the ultimate evil villain. But I planned to have Dante as a
continuing antagonist throughout the series until I got reader mail. Readers
wanted to see Dante find love. Readers cared about him, the bad guy.
They sympathized with him because
of HOW he became a demon. Over a hundred and fifty years ago, he was dying,
betrayed and murdered (almost) by his ex-wife. Demons from an alternative world
rescued him and gave him immortal life but for a price. He had to do the
demoness’s bidding. He retained his human side which is shown during various
crises.
Then in book one, Desert of the Damned, Dante does one
heroic deed and readers get a glimpse of this human side. I believe it was this
point readers found hope that he could be redeemed. What ordeals does he have
to go through to get there? What choices? And at what cost? That’s the
rollercoaster ride Dante is faced in book three. Demon and mortal in one Alpha
body struggling on two war fronts— an alternative dimension and Earth. Check
out Damned and Defiant to see if love and courage can conquer the demon.
Damned and Defiant
Paranormal Erotic Romance
Ellora’s Cave, Release date:
August 15
ISBN: 9781419940804
Book 3 in the Demons in Exile series.
Blurb:
Mortal women surrender to Dante’s seductions. He is a Drone,
an immortal who feeds off their lifeforce energy—the chi that keeps his kind
alive. When his dimension is on the edge of destruction, Dante must seek the
help of one special woman.
Haley Moore is a Sha Warrior—a mortal with excess lifeforce
energy. She has always had a strong attraction to Dante and when they meet
again he thinks luck is on his side because his quota of chi energy would be
obtained after one scorching scene with this mortal. But the problem is that he
is overwhelmingly attracted to her and once with this woman won’t be enough.
Haley tries to draw out the man buried deep within the demon.
Their fierce, undeniable passion unravels his plans and threatens her life. Can
Dante bear to abandon her when he leaves Earth forever? Dante will have to
choose whether to return to his world or to give up his immortality and share
his future with Haley.
Excerpt: (Copyright 2012, Kathy Kulig. All rights reserved.)
The
skinwalker—part man, part coyote—shifted into his human form as he gazed upon
the young woman, his quarry. She removed her clothes and dropped them onto the
cool, desert sand. She gave him a lustful glance as if she was the one
controlling the seduction. “Nice trick with the coyote. Are you a magician?”
Her words were slurred. But the trance hadn’t taken hold.
“Something
like that,” he answered. He felt a flush of heat on his face. How the hell was
she still aware? Something wasn’t right. This Kithra was different than the
others, and he wasn’t sure why. He slid his hands over her arms and sparks
skidded across her skin.
“I
love the desert at night,” she added as her eyelids flickered. The air around
her body crackled with electricity, her short, blonde hair stood out from the
static. Not his usual choice for Kithras. He preferred ones with long, dark
hair like the Drones from Prygos. It had to be her level of energy that drew
him to this one.
“Yes,”
he murmured, then waved his hand over her face, deepening the trance with
little effort. He extended a finger and ran it down the side of her cheek, her
neck, between her small breasts and cut diagonally across her flat stomach to
her narrow hips. When his finger skimmed close to her pubic area she shivered
and moaned. She was a slight creature with an athletic build. He preferred his
Kithra to have a few more curves but she would provide adequate chi for his
needs. Pointing to the blanket, he smiled when she complied and stretched out
on it, her arms and legs spread.
Dante
Akanto gave her a knowing smile, stepped back and paced around the naked woman.
He watched her hands slide over her breasts and rub her pussy. “Fuck me,
Dante.” She writhed on the Navajo blanket, deep in the sexual trance, almost
ready for the offering. A rush of hot, sexual sensations surged through him and
his cock hardened. No! He had to fight his urges or he’d risk killing her
during the collection.
Beside
her, a campfire blazed, keeping away the night creatures of the Arizona desert.
She moaned, teasing him with her sultry movements and her scent. The look she
gave him made him ache with a desperate hunger. The woman’s sexual appetite
could yank her out of the trance if he wasn’t careful. Dante swirled the energy
field around her, easing her deeper into his spell. Her eyes glazed over.
Better.
Finally, this Kithra was becoming receptive to his influences. Her energy level
was high and hard to manage. Probably a Sha Warrior. Lucky for him to pick a
mortal with so much lifeforce. He’d meet his quota after this collection.
Moving over to his Harley, he removed the rest of his clothes, cowboy boots,
leather pants and hung them over his bike.
Naked
and fully aroused, he stood over her and stroked his cock. The woman was quite
beautiful. Was she purposefully downplaying her appearance by wearing worn
jeans and a baggy T-shirt? What struck Dante the most was her eyes. Large and
golden brown, they shone with intelligence, but also appeared dark with
despair. Like a polished jewel that had lost its sparkle. He sensed a toughness
within her, a fear maybe, brought on by a life of tragedy or loss.
Don’t get personal with
your quarry.
He’d
seen her walking along the highway alone. Young, attractive, fearless and
carrying a backpack. A traveler? Homeless? He didn’t know. She was the perfect
Kithra or quarry. She accepted his offer for a ride, with a little telepathic
influence on his part, and he’d driven her out into the desert. No one would
see them here.
She’d
laughed when he’d swung the bike off the road, heading into open desert. While
he made a campfire, she’d taken his Navajo blanket from the saddlebag and
spread it out by the fire. Now naked and in trance, he craved to take her as a
mortal man would take a mortal woman, but he couldn’t. She didn’t need to be
naked for the collection. And tonight it was making his task more difficult.
Dante
had to make his quota of human lifeforce energy to the demoness of Anartia. The
immortals needed his offering to maintain their world. If he failed, he’d be
replaced—destroyed—by Gwyllain, or her consort Tarik, the rulers of Anartia.
The woman watched him
with hunger and lust in her eyes. The need to climax was great. His cock ached.
But he’d have to wait until the offering. Stay in control. The more he teased
and prolonged her orgasm, the better the harvest of chi. She whimpered as she
watched him work his cock.
Straddling
her body, he knelt on either side of her waist. Dante leaned forward and
stroked her breasts, then eased his hand over her belly and between her legs.
The woman sucked in a breath. The aura around her body told him she was close
but he wasn’t ready to harvest her energy yet. As he rubbed her clit, cream
coated her folds and moistened his finger. He plunged inside her pussy and
shoved deep. She cried out, raising her hips off the blanket. The scent of her
arousal was mixed with the scents of the desert—the earth, the sage and
mesquite. He loved the desert, and he loved taking his Kithra here. The
distraction of its beauty helped him control his own desire.
“Fuck
me or lick me. I can’t wait any more.” She reached down and grabbed his cock
and squeezed him.
Damn,
it felt good. But he pulled her hand away and pressed both arms above her head.
He couldn’t risk having her touch him like that. It’d been so long since he’d
had the pleasure to seek release with a human.
Leaning
forward, he brushed his lips over her nipple, then bit gently and rolled his
tongue over the erect peak. He repeated the tease to the other nipple and she
moaned in pleasure. “So good,” she breathed.
“Yes.”
He didn’t even know her name. No matter. She wouldn’t remember him after the
collection. “Stay still,” he ordered.
“Yes.”
She nodded and stopped writhing but he still ached to drive his cock into her.
A vibration surged through him as he prepared for the harvest. Opening his
mouth, he held his lips close to hers without touching. She parted her lips as
if anticipating a deep kiss and her chi energy flowed in a stream of light from
her mouth into his. She cried out as the orgasm shattered her but he held her
down. His cock throbbed and his balls tightened, his body tensed, aching for
release as the chi energy rushed into him. Control, control. He had to slow
down or he’d drain her.
#
I love your blog, Cerise! Thanks so much for having me as a
guest!!!
All the best,
Kathy Kulig
www.kathykulig.blogspot.com
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