Monday, March 31, 2008
Rita's blog inspired me to blog about my Bad Boys. For those of you who have read Gabriel's Horn and Gabriel's Gun you know what I mean by bad. The kind of man who takes prisoners and keeps them right where he wants them. lol
Ahhhh...it's not that bad. I do have works coming soon that are more traditional romance and can't wait for all of you to read them. Yes, I admit I love happily ever after. All the lose ends tied up in a neat little bow.
But, even in those happily ever after stories my boys start out bad. There is not a nice guy in the bunch until I tame him. Notice I said "I". Well hell yeah. I bet most authors envision themselves as the hero or heroine. How else can we get into their skins and give you their thoughts?
And I must admit that those bad boys are a carry over from my personal life too. I've always been attracted to a bit of danger. Aren't we all? I don't like playing it safe with men. Give me those men who have the devil dancing in their eyes!
And I bet a whole lot of you married that Bad Boy too!
Another thing I'll admit to is that I don't necessarily need a man to be all that buffed and beautiful. I'm a sucker for a man who makes me laugh every time. So if the devil dances in his eyes and he makes me laugh. Jeez Looeeeeze. DIP ME IN CHOCOLATE AND ROLL ME IN NUTS!
Personality over biceps any day. How about you?
But after Planet of the Veil is released in July, Christmas Rescue will follow it in November and shortly after it Casino - Star Shine. Of course I'm never idle, I've got other things cooking, so don't we all? As soon as Whiskey Creek Press gives me the cover for Veils - I'll post it - count on it. Until then check my web site for a blurb and a couple of excerpts to this outer space adventure on a planet where sex slaves are trained to their master's bidding. Except of course my heroine, no one trains Belayla - no one - except possibly her conqueror Norquar. Long white blond hair and piercing blue eyes with a warriors bod to just make a girl silly. Since this is a first post and I'm kind of new at it, I'm going to be short, but get ready they are coming, just because Sutlry has been quiet for a few months doesn't mean shes been idle.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
So I guess you're wondering what that headline means....well....
*Throws the huge sack in front of everyone*
There it is...that big ol block...writer's block.
A big huge cement the not only blocks view of the hottie characters you have but also of any end in sight.
Everyone who has ever written anything from student to author, poet to a child knows the feeling. The breeze blows clearer than the words do. The words don't flow, nothing flows, and everything else goes. You find yourself becoming more interested in the lint bunny that has multiplied exponentially than the manuscript that you should be working on.
Then you start talking to the lint bunny than the manuscript. Your characters have gone on vacation and forgot to tell you about it. lol
Yes, this is a feeling this author knows all too well. When I wrote my first novella Prophecy of th Boar, the block was more "Can I really write this type of stuff?" As the experience with the writing came, so did the ways to get around small hindrances. And shortly thereafter, Smoke & Mirrors, Reel to Real, The Watchers, and The Seventh Legends came. I thought 'Well writers block is really nothing at all!!'
Then came the big one, the mammajamma that threw not only a wrench but probably the entire power tools into the mess. lol. The wrench is now lost in the engine and has been slowly pulled out. My current block is with my first novel. Glass of Infinity. The story is about a woman who has to travel back in time to save the sect of time holders she is apart of. Paranormal/Time Travel, what's not to love?!
Well, its been a while now, and I have no clue how to get out of it. So I do what every good author does, eat some chocolate then ponder. Go work off the chocolate I just ate then ponder, and then find the muses to the novel and realize that they went on vacation without letting me know. Sad but true. How did it get this way? Truth be told I have no idea, just one day I went to work on it and poof, everything left. And the little buggers didn't even leave a post it note as to where they left.
So what should you do when this happens? Well many have said to just focus on something else. Some have said to even start anew. According to Dr. Karen E. Peterson, author of Write: 10 Days to overcome writer's block. Her methods can help getting through the fog of uncertainty. Some have worked, and have also lead to more story ideas!
- Scheduling time to write and work, regardless of the quality of the output.
- Engaging in brief periods of "freewriting" or "mindwriting," in which people impulsively write whatever comes to mind.
- Challenging negative thoughts about one's skill or ability to write.
- Using writers' exercises such as "chunking". They use many websites that contain numerous creative writing exercises. Writers read an exercise, and do it.
- Use the process known as Automatic writing.
- Taking a break, meditating, or doing relaxation exercises to relieve any pressure on oneself and on the writing.
- Doing something out of the ordinary. If writer's block comes from a lack of new ideas, attempts to spark creativity by going somewhere new or doing something different can be useful.
- Returning to the writing after a lapse of a day or two.
- Write a basic plot outline of the story, if having problems keeping the story on the rails.
- Brainstorming at the beginning of the writing can help the writer by relating every point to another.
- Reading, watching movies or plays, or similar activities that might bring inspiration.
- Going out to get some fresh air.
- Set your writing down, go out and do something (something that will keep you busy) and then come back in a few hours with a fresh mind.
Though writers block can be a hindrance, it doesn't have to mean an end to your creative work. Every writer gets it. Some more than others, true the way you tackle it means a great deal. So to all those out there that write, want to write, attempt to write and may one day write, how do you do it?
Until next time, this is Mila signing out.
Join us again here at MSA...same bat time (ooooh Christian Bale...grrrrr), same bat channel.
Mila Ramos, Author of Multi-Genre Romance
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Since this is my first blog post here, I thought I'd post a bit from my recent releases.
I'm published with Red Rose Publishing, Whiskey Creek Press Torrid and contracted with Aspen Mountain Press. I've been a long time member of RWA as well.
It's wonderful to be a part of Midnight Seductions Author group.
Here are some blurbs:
Celtic Love Knots Vol. 9 published by Whiskey Creek Press Torrid (Just out!)
Wicked Temptations: Laria MacCleod and Cameron Logan are pulled into a world of magic and danger. Can they survive to enjoy their newfound love?
The Dark Mist: Keegan O’Neil and Briana MacCleod must defeat an evil Druid. Will light defeat the darkness and restore the balance of the worlds?
Wicked Pleasures – from Red Rose Publishing
Honey Jordan is in trouble. Her Pa is giving her one week to find another place to live. Her fiancé has not finished their house. She discovers that telling her best friend about Granny Cordella’s sexual legacy, a box of wicked pleasure, she now might be a criminal. Can she escape the clutches of the law and marry Brock? Can she find the topaz treasure, ‘The Jewel of the Nile?’
Brock Ryan is in trouble. He’s about to lose his house and land because the will his Pawpaw left him is missing. His fiancée Honey Jordan is in possession of certain sexual illegal items. His brother-in-law congratulates him and the Sheriff is threatening to haul Honey in for breaking the law.
Can Brock keep his fiancée out of jail and save his land?
EXCERPTS ARE ADULT:
Scotland, present day
The overhead doorbell jangled as Laria MacCleod arranged the last batch of shortbread in the display case. “Welcome to Wicked Temptations,” she called. Laria lifted her head and the bon-bon in her hand slipped through her fingers to splat on the plate when she spied Mr. Yummy making his way to the counter. She’d seen him around the village and bugger, he was even better looking up close. Thrice she’d dreamed of him and found the real man was definitely more delicious.
He stood at least six foot one with sun-kissed blonde hair that brushed his collar, and blue eyes the color of Loch Awe on a sunny day. He reminded her of a Norse god. A shiver of anticipation shimmied to her core at the thought of what she’d like to sample on this man. His aura and presence affected her like no other. She took a deep breath to refocus, to still the attraction she felt for this stranger.
She closed the sliding window and wiped the crumbs from her hands on her apron. She resisted the urge to pluck her damp shirt away from her body. I’m probably a mucky mess. Just my luck.
“May I help you?” she asked as she kept watch on the village’s two gossipy crones, Agatha and Clara in the corner.
“I’m looking for Laria MacCleod.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket.
Prickles of unease danced a Highland reel up and down her spine. Something wasn’t right. “Aye, I’m Laria.”
“This is for you, lass.” The embossed crest in the upper left hand corner caught her attention. Brighid’s Fire! Hamish Wallace. Would the man never leave her alone? Her creed, if it harm none, do what you will, she always obeyed. Hamish pushed her to her limit.
“I’ve been told this is a final offer from Wallace on your building and property.”
Her hand trembled, rattling the packet. Anger flared, heating her cheeks. “Would you give Hamish a message?”
The Viking Warrior crossed his arms and raised a tawny brow. “Aye, lass.”
“Tell that son-of-a-bitch cur he can go straight to bloody hell! I’m not selling.”
A devilish half-smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Hamish isn’t my client although I currently have the misfortune of working in his solicitor’s office. It would give me great pleasure to deliver your message.”
THE DARK MIST
The frigid fingers of evil touched Keegan O’Neill’s skin as he entered the sacred oak grove. Pushing his revulsion deep inside, he trod the fragrant earth on silent feet. Just ahead, the tree line thinned and opened to reveal a small stone circle where a group of eight white-robed druids stood. “Come, join us, Keegan.”
A space opened for him to enter, yet he stayed outside the perimeter. The vileness was so strong it brushed his soul. A sharp pain in his chest followed in its wake. “What are you about, Murdoch?”
The Druid motioned for Keegan to step into the empty spot. “We wish for you to unite with us on the path of darkness and shadow, for this is where true power lies.”
“Nay, I walk the road of truth and light, where the Gods and Goddesses lead me. Leave me be.” Keegan clenched his hands into fists, releasing his fingers on his next breath. I must reach my brother, Sloan, at Tara. Protection. When had a dark mist surrounded Murdoch’s form? Had the powerful druid blinded him?
Murdoch slowly walked over to Keegan, his face contorted with hate. “After I kill you, I will steal your spirit, your awen. Your power, given by the Goddess Danu, will be mine.”
The zing of metal pierced the silence as Murdoch sliced the air with the deadly blade. He pointed the tip at Keegan’s chest. Their laws forbade any druid to carry a weapon. Truly, the man had lost all of his senses. Keegan watched in fascination as the weapon was wrenched from Murdoch’s grasp by an unseen force. The ground shook beneath his feet, and he kneeled to keep from falling.
A blinding flash of white light and the deafening crack of thunder rent the air above the dark, jagged monoliths. The full moon illuminated the stained sandstone slab.
Murdoch pushed to his feet and brushed bits of grass and twig from his robe. “Keegan, what magic have you wrought against us?”
A brilliant, sparkling silver mist appeared, like a thousand tiny stars in front of Keegan. Stepping from the Otherworldly shimmer, a beautiful woman appeared. Her skin was the color of moonlight. Her hair, the finest spun gold, hung loosely to her knees.
“I am Ailaina, Queen of the Tuatha De Danaan. We are traveling to the safety of my palace.”
“Thank you, Great One.” Keegan could not think of anything else to say, for his tongue seemed to trip over itself. The air shifted and whirled as if a terrible storm raged around him, but it did not touch him.
Once they arrived at her palace, Ailaina removed her cloak. “Welcome to my realm, Keegan O’Neill.” She clapped her hands and a group of handmaidens ran into the room.
Keegan bowed low, giving the Queen the deference she deserved.
Ailaina touched the top of his head. “Arise, young druid. We have much to accomplish.” She turned to the women. “Bring food and drink to my bed chamber.” Returning her attention to Keegan, she gave him a wicked smile. “You were chosen by the Great Goddess for training of the sensual kind. It is the only way your magical energy given by her can be released. Your soul mate and I are the keys to unlock the Goddess’ power within you. Do not forget, your mortal lineage is one of royalty.”
Keegan tried to swallow past the hard lump in his throat. Sex with the Queen of the Tuatha De? What if I don’t please her? Tendrils of fear wrapped like a twisting vine in his gut.
Ailaina smiled and laid her hand on his cheek. “Do not worry, I shall enjoy seducing you.”
Honey Jordan stomped down the porch steps waving a big wooden spoon. “You son-of-a-cow chip!” She’d thrown all her cooking pots at the object of her displeasure—Brock Ryan. Blue enamel speckle ware littered the yard. She picked up a cast iron skillet and tossed it. Dang, just missed his ass. Mighty fine it was too. She wished it were her hands on those tight butt cheeks.
Brock ran for cover behind a large oak. “What’s got you so riled?”
“Our house is still unfinished. We can’t get married until it’s done. Have you changed your mind?” Hands on her hips she slowly advanced until she stopped a foot from him then pointed the wooden mixing spoon at his chest. “My sweet darlin,’ you can be replaced.” The town’s old biddies are still watching me with their noses in the air and whispering when I walk by, and all because of us getting caught sparking behind the mercantile.
He jerked the utensil from her hands. “What do you mean I can be replaced?”
“You have one week to finish Brock, or else.” Honey snatched the wooden weapon back, reached around and smacked his ass with the heel of the spoon.
In a twirl of red calico, she marched up the stairs into the kitchen.
Honey slammed the screen door. “Oh, that brother of yours, Emmy…” Even though she was mad, her heart pounded at the sight of him. Sun-kissed blonde hair that brushed the collar of his shirt, blue eyes with a mischievous glint and a mouth made for kissing.
Not everything I write is erotic romance (not to be mistaken for pornography, which it is not.)
I write sensual romance under the name Keelia Greer and have titles available. Go to my website for more information. www.keeliagreer.com
I hope you've enjoyed the blurbs and excerpts and getting to know me.
I look forward to see you here this time next month!
Friday, March 28, 2008
So in the name of research…(romance writers get to call a lot of fun stuff “research”)…what kind of eye candy do you like your book covers to have? I wouldn’t want to ask you to make an uninformed decision, so here are a few examples:
Do you like smolderin’ shoulders?
Or smokin’ abs?
Are you a chest chick?
A leg lady?
A back babe?
A butt bandit?
Do you love the ladies?
Or do you just want to see some lovin’?
Or is it all good????
Warning: Too much eye candy won’t rot your teeth, but if what my grandma said is true, it might make you go blind.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
There’s been a lot of talk and a lot of blogging in e-romance circles recently on the subject of men writing as women and women writing as male authors. Some bloggers are even suggesting that they would be devastated to know that their favorite authors are women and vice versa.
Some critics also claim they abhor authors who write under multiple names and suggest they can even tell if an author they are reading is…really someone else.
Does it matter? So many authors have been doing this for centuries. Newcomers to the art of pen and paper may not be aware that for centuries, women had to pretend to be men, or worse, use initials as Mary Wollstonecraft did when she covered the French Revolution beheadings for her St. Paul’s Row publisher.
As a pre-teen, my father sent me to Greece to visit the motherland and I had a very tough time. Three things saved my sanity that Year of Speaking Greekly. In an old bookshop, I discovered a dusty copy of George Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss and I devoured it. It was written in English! I read and re-read that book and I can quote you whole chunks of it to this day – but don’t worry, I won’t. The other things that got me through were warped, moldy albums I discovered in my Aunt Sia’s attic of Suzi Quattro and The Carpenters.
All of this could happily explain my strange tastes in men, music and muses, but still, it was some years later that I discovered that my favorite author George Eliot was a woman! I was just getting over that shock when I fell in love with the books of S.E. Hinton – ACK! This writer of searing gang violence on Tulsa’s ‘Restless Ribbon’ was a fifteen year old girl!
So many romance writers write under many names. Wile other teenage boys I knew were getting into Guns & Ammo and Playboy, I was secretly stashing Harlequin Romances inside my text books. I was not a fan of the biggies at that time Georgette Heyer and Jean Plaidy. I adored Victoria Holt. Her lush depictions of foreign locales and love tortured until the very last page gave me that thirst for writing about faraway places. I was shocked to discover she WAS Jean Plaidy, whose books I did not particularly enjoy. In fact she wrote under eight different pseudonyms in her long, prolific career.
When I moved to London several years ago, I remember going to do a dinner party and the hairiest, scruffiest guy at the table turned out to be the biggest selling author of Mills & Boon romances. I asked him how he did it. How he managed to project the idea of heaving bosoms, doe-like eyes and all those other things those romance novels did so well.
“I’ve been reading them since I was a kid,” he told me, scratching his chin. Geez, he needed a shave.
So, the current crop of romance authors are not new. And who cares if they write under multiple names? I have been amused by the guessing games going on about gender identity and who writes under how many names…but to me, it all comes down to:
Can they write and do I enjoy reading it?
If it’s yes to both questions, they could write under any name and the rose would still smell as sweet….does it smell as good to you?
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Actually the day for me goes something like this.
It begins at bedtime. (My kids bedtime that is) Somewhere around ten PM the house gets settled and I get my computer time. This lasts until the first young child starts crying. Usually about an hour. Then I settle everyone down again and try to get myself some sleep. Of course the plot bunnies are now beating at my brain because my imagination won't turn off and after a few hours I can't help but get back up and sneak a bit of writing time. If typing is too noisy I'll turn to my trusty pen and notebook(Twice the work but very relaxing for me to write things out longhand)
When I'm finally too tired to work anymore I get a bit of rest and then once morning comes and my three kiddies are settled with food and cartoons I steal a bit more time. Throughout the day, between screaming and fighting and general chaos, I might get another hour or two in all if I'm lucky. LOL It's a wonder I get anything written at all, but in a strange way it works for me. I write better under presure it seems, when every moment at the computer needs to count. I always have more than one project goign and that works for me too. I probably couldn't write now in a peaceful environment and thats okay too. Every writer has to find the process that works for them and total disarray is apparently my thing.
I'd love to hear about the system everyone else uses to write.
MSA and Blog newbie
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I guess you could say this blog will be my first--ahh, that MSA should pop my cherry. LOL
Ironically, it's that very subject I want to discuss. Or should I say, I'd like to have you comment about.
Having watched the growth of the romance industry over the years as well as the rise of the erotic romance and erotica genres, I am always curious to find out what writers and readers would consider realistic.
How realistic is it to actually find a heroine who is still a technical virgin, while aware of the more exotic sexual practices? Or does she have to have experimented in her past before she meets "Mr. Right" or "Mr. Right for Now"?
And what about the hero? Can he still be "untouched" or does he have to "sow his wild oats" all over town?
Come on, tell me what you think and what you look for? I'd like to know.
Monday, March 24, 2008
the act of kissing.
Geometry. the contact between two osculating curves or the like.
LOL. Yes, I'm being fancy today. Just in case you don't know, osculation is the scientific name for kissing. I was reading another blog recently and saw the most beautiful pictures of people kissing each other. Some were long-term partners, some had been together for a month or two. Just seeing the pictures reminded me of how important an act kissing really is. Remember when you were a youngster and the only thing you ever did was kiss? Weren't they just the most innocent of days?
I had a friend read over a short story of mine a few months ago. She really enjoyed it, but remarked that I should add more kissing. I did LOL. Her comments made me think about my writing and how people like to feel when they read an erotic story. It's not just about the sex is it? It's about using all your senses and stimulating your mind. Believe it or not, the brain is the best sex toy that we have. Even as a reader we like a bit of foreplay and kissing is a vital part of that foreplay.
This weekend I asked my friends on MySpace to help with a little research regarding this topic. As readers, it seems that we all love to read about the act of kissing. Some friends even remarked that it was the most enjoyable part of the book. The general consensus was that as long as the scene was descriptive (but not overly so) and well written, then it could make for some very interesting reading indeed.
So, where does our enjoyment of reading about kissing originally stem from? If we enjoy it in our books, then how highly do we rate kissing in our everyday lives? Well, during the course of my un-scientific research, I discovered some very interesting data. One question that I asked was, on a scale of 1-10, how important is kissing to you. More than half of those surveyed rated it above 8. And 1/5th rated it 10 and above. But is a bad kiss enough to put us off a potential partner? Apparently not. Most of those surveyed felt that a bad kiss on a first date could be put down to nerves and would be willing to give the said “bad” kisser another chance. However, we are rather harsh on those who kiss badly on subsequent dates.
Most of us here will agree that we love reading and writing about sex. But when compared to kissing, how does it rate in our real lives? My question to my willing participants was: Is kissing more important than sex? Well, there was some division on this one. However, the majority of those surveyed felt that kissing WAS more important than sex. Some noted that the two had equal importance.
In examining if readers felt that kissing was more personal than sex, I again saw a division. It was a close call between those who agreed and those who disagreed. Some even noted that kissing could be just as intimate as sex and one reader told me that in the absence of sex, kissing was a wonderful method of achieving daily intimacy. Therefore, it does seem as though we regard kissing as a highly intimate and very important part of our lives. In our books, as well as our daily routines, it is regarded just as highly, if not more so than sex. This is indeed food for thought for the writers amongst us, who maybe sometimes gloss over the kissing and get straight to the sex. I know that it’s something I’ll be paying far more attention to in the future.
So, where do we think this fascination with kissing comes from? Well, our mouths are one of, if not the most sensitive parts of our bodies. Look at how babies perceive the world around them. As part of their exploration play they naturally put things in their mouth to decide if it's good or bad. Their reactions are instant. Now wouldn't it be wonderful if we could make such perceptions with prospective partners? It would save an awful lot of time and a whole lot of heartache. Sadly as we get older, we have to go beyond the stage of putting things in our mouths before deciding if they're going to hurt you or not. Relationships tend to have to get into your heart and soul before we can make a true critique upon them. But wouldn't you agree that the kissing is always good in the beginning?
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Hi dearest, how are you? I see that sexy little smile on your face as you read this, knowing you’re making yourself excited just thinking about me. Hmm? You say you’re anxious to see me here?
Well I’d love to be there, lovely.
Can anyone tell me what was wrong with the introduction to this blog?
Or in the following scenario: I get an IM from a friend, she often says “Hello my prince.” I respond, “my little pet.”
The answer? Depends on who you are. My best friend of seventeen years often calls me and we talk like we’re best friends. She says “hi honey,” and I respond with, “Damn darling, that sucks.” Or whatever my response is. Thing is, if my significant other walks in on the conversation, she glares daggers at me.
“You might give women the wrong impression,” the significant other says. “You’ve done it before.”
True, I was young and dumb and didn’t realize women were trying to pick me up, sometimes in front of the very same significant other! Women are incredible creatures, aren’t they folks?
Another friend refers to me as the silver wolf, basing her comment on my aura. Again, friend from high school and I DO write as the White Wolf, though another female writer called me the dark wolf prince. Girlfriend was upset too. Now when I talk to others on the phone, I usually throw out the word dear and babe, or my worst one, “baby.” But my tone to me is not that of seduction. It’s of “I hear you and am being sweet.”
One friend defended my behavior as being a southern thing. I’m originally from Texas but never really claimed the “Southern” lifestyle or it’s beliefs. But it’s a great excuse, right?
Are you overly friendly with your friends or coworkers? Is it to the point of annoyance to the significant other or are they truly overreacting? True I could get myself into a LOT of trouble *wicked grins* but that hasn’t happened since I became aware of my language to others. So no more true trouble, only mild mischief for me!
The reality of this is that while I am a sweet author, as most authors are, a bit of a “schtick” is needed. I write romance. How many authors do you know that write romance are all “just good guys?” Well, none since the genre is dominated by women, but still! Without casual flirting, aren’t we just another author trying to peddle wares?
What say you?
Friday, March 21, 2008
Everyone talks about the hook! You have to draw the reader in by the first paragraph, first page or first chapter. The length varies but concept is the same. If you don’t hook the reader quickly, they’ll throw the book to the side.
I love to read but I have no set in stone ‘hook rule’. I admit some books grab me immediately while others take time and some never quite have me hooked. However, in all my years of reading and there are many, I’ve rarely set a book aside without finishing it.
How about you?
Do you have to have the immediate hook?
Below are a couple of beginnings from my books. Tell me what you think.
Be advised! Excerpts are rated R!
They Both Belong To ME
“That infernal buzzing is driving me insane. Doesn’t she know we can fuck her better than any simulation device?” Johann Zcar cursed. He’d just passed Commander Jill Mahall’s quarters. The scent of her arousal and the sound of her vibrating wand had him near eruption.
“Come here. You have to read this,” Talon Yild beckoned him in an amused voice. “I happened to have a duplichip in the main frame today while Jill conferred with Ali from Space Command. You’re not going to believe what it recorded.”
Johann’s eyes quickly scanned the document. “Fuck.”
“That’s right. When we dock on North Star in two days our Commander intends to have two pleasure droids fuck her brains out.” Talon spun his chair sideways. A cocky grin stretched his lips.
“Jesus.” Johann almost exploded at the thought of Jill with two droids.
“Look at this. Her order form to Heavenly Droids.” Talon’s fingers worked the board and an order appeared with an attachment.
“Our digital images. She wants her droids to look like us. It appears Jill is hot to have our cocks plugging her,” Talon replied smugly.
Undercover Pleasure Droid
“Mav, I found your way in,” Rebecca said with just a little too much glee for his comfort.
First Commander Maverick Spencer rolled his chair across the tiled floor. His eyes zeroed in on Rebecca’s vid screed as it flashed an advertisement for a robotic sex site. “No thanks, Rebecca. I don’t need to buy sex. But there might be something there for you.”
“Nope. But that Marston babe you downloaded into your cyber sex unit just placed an order.”
“For what? I downloaded her file for research. She’s a target in our investigation.”
“Yep, but you added her picture to your cyber sex unit. You can’t hide anything from a techno wiz.” Laughter gleamed in Rebecca’s eyes. “Anyway, she ordered a pleasure droid, a hi-tech robotic sex machine—and wait until you hear the description. She might have been describing you. Well, that is, if you have at least 10 inches in those pants.” Rebecca raised her brows suggestively.
“I think I can cover that,” Mav grumbled, his eyes scanning the banner ad.
“Excuse me.” Rebecca waved her hand in his direction. “I need to open this drawer.”
Mav rolled backward to allow her to rummage through his stash of odds and ends.
“What are you looking for?”
“A tape measure. I had better verify the length. We wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”
“If you think I’m whipping it out for you—think again. I never disappoint.” He scooted closer reading the digital data. “I’m still not sure how this pleasure droid info is going to help us.”
“I intercepted the order. The droid she wants is top of the line. An A.L.B., an artificial life bot, verbally programmable, complete with simulated skin, and…ugh…life-like body fluids.”
Mav leaned closer. “You’re not suggesting that I—” He blinked rapidly to clear the mental picture that filled his mind.
“That you take the place of the droid. Of course, just think of the undercover work.” Rebecca waggled her eyebrows.
End of excerpts!
I hoped you enjoyed my beginning here at MSA.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
I live with an overactive muse. There’s no other way of describing it, and there are times it drives me nuts. I can’t even go to the store without a new idea for a story. I have notes in scattered books, pads, scribbles on corners of napkins. I don’t even go for a walk without pen and paper somewhere on my person.
I exist in a universe of what if…
What if the woman at the check out is a goddess hiding in mortal form looking for just the right man?
What if the Devil did walk up you one day and said “Please allow me to introduce myself…”
What if the college student running to get to class on time was late because she’d just woken up after a night with a vampire? Is she hiding a bite mark beneath her blouse, under her bra, or perhaps on her inner thigh? Did she submit to him, or chain him down until he screamed for a taste, just one sweet taste of her addictive blood.
See what I mean?
Songs. Artwork. A drive to get a gallon of milk.
So why this as a subject for a blog?
A dear friend of mine on a writers list asked me how do I do it? I have 52 novels and novella’s currently out and I’ve only been writing professionally for less than 5 years now. I write short stories, flash fiction, poetry, novella’s and novels and in this month alone I’ve completed a 42K novella, and 9 short stories, so you’d think that the idea’s would just dry up, shut down and refuse to come out to play anymore.
They don’t because I allow myself to live in the world of what if. I don’t take steps to shut that down and I do babble to my husband and business partner about the ideas. I don’t see the ordinary so why don’t you try it one day.
Next time you’re shopping pick out one person working there and build an alternative life for them. It can be three lines, but try it. Listen to a song and find one phrase in it to start off a story. Ask yourself why that college girl, that nurse, that harried young mother with two children is running to finish her errands – play what if.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
It's not fun when you read a book and stumble across some facts that are not true or incorrect. Even more so when you know that they are wrong. You have to get things right. That's where the task of researching comes into play.
I know that not everybody likes to do research because it is time consuming and takes you away from writing the actual book but for me personally I really enjoy it.
A few days ago I had stopped off my at my local book store and found a huge dictionary called The Dictionary of Mythology An A-Z of Themes, Legends And Heroes. The book is 1139 pages long and is filled with amazing things that are inspiring. I have been enjoying reading up on all the things I didn't know, and it's getting my muse kicking with new book ideas.
It is really coming in handy especially for the series I am working on. It deals with Greek Gods and paranormal aspects.
I want to know are you a fan of research or is it something you would rather not want to do? For the readers, do you like books that have facts in them or would you rather read a book with non of those things?
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
As Rita Thedford, I write ultra hot regencies and contemporaries and my alter ego, Regina Carlysle writes erotic romance. My first Carlyle story is Tempting Tess, an older woman/younger man tale which will be released by Ellora's Cave on May 8. Daniel Rios, my hot latino hero, does great things with his hands. Get your minds out of the GUTTERS, my Peeps! He works in construction (although he DOES use his hands in other ways, too. lol) He's tall, lean, ripped and has a great sense of humor.
While thinking about the topic today, I took a look back at the heroes I've built for my stories and was a little surprised by their similarities. First of all, almost every one of them are DARK. Now this could be because I'm a blonde and that old adage, opposites attract, comes into play here. But the similarities don't end there. All are tall, lean with ripped muscle, full of good humor and almost every one of them talks with a slow, southern drawl. Who doesn't like a slow-talking, teasing man who knows all the right moves? He can make a woman laugh with his playful manner and have her shivering with lust, all at the same time. Oh YEAH. My kind of hero.
Even my historical hero has similar qualities to the modern day guys. Christian Delaford of Tempted (Wings ePress) is big, build and though he's an aristrocrat, he doesn't give a flip about the sensibilities of the day. He's an adventurer both in and out of the bedroom and hides, beneath that masculine exterior, a heart of gold. Of all my heroes, Christian is the only aristocrat. The others are all working men who ply their trades in the outdoors as ranchers, cowboys, carpenters.
Nash Logan, my hero from Hot Night at the Blue Bug Saloon (The Wild Rose Press) is a rodeo cowboy who longs for a ranch and family of his own. This smokin' hot, slow talking, long lovin' cowboy is a tall, dark, dream in denim. Matt McBride from One Dependable Man (The Wild Rose Press) is a Texas rancher with a heart bigger than the state in which he lives. A man of honor, he vows to fulfill a promise to a friend and finds love in the most unlikely place. He woos the heroine with humor and a tender touch.
I've told you about my favorite heroes. What about yours? As readers, which heroes melt your bones and have you running for a cold shower? As a writer, what type of men feature prominently in your stories? Curious minds want to KNOW.
Please visit my web sites for more information on my work:
Monday, March 17, 2008
My name is Paige Tyler and I write romantic spanking stories and other sexy erotic fiction. Yup, you read that right, romantic spanking stories! LOL!
My books are light-hearted, fun romances that definitely don't take themselves too seriously. They have a little adventure, a little humor, and a whole lot of hot sex! And a spanking or two, of course, just to keep things interesting!
To give you a taste to my writing, I thought I'd post an excerpt from my bestselling sci-fi spanking romance The Ambassador's Daughter, which just came out in print!
Sparks fly in this sci-fi spanking romance when an interplanetary ambassador’s spoiled, impetuous daughter, Inarii Kal’yle, finally meets her match in the form of her new, no-nonsense bodyguard, the handsome Rand Barany. An expert in the field of personal protection, Rand has a reputation for getting the job done, and has no patience for his charge’s blatant disregard for the rules.
Threats abound around the beautiful socialite, but are they from her father’s enemies or the obsessed stalker who has unknowingly been tracking her? Rand doesn’t know or care; his job is to keep her safe. But how can he do that when she takes a perverse sort of pleasure in slipping away from him every chance she gets? Finally, he has no choice but to do what he’s wanted to do since their first meeting – he drags he over his knee and spanks her. Outraged, she runs to her father, thinking that he will dismiss her brute of a bodyguard. But her father surprises her by siding with Rand, telling her that it’s no more than she deserves. Then, as if that weren’t enough, he practically gives Rand permission to spank her whenever the man sees fit!
But when the threats becomes all too real and they’re on the run for their lives, Inarii has no choice but to depend on Rand. Even then, her nature won’t allow her to follow his orders, and he’s forced to spank her repeatedly - for her own good, according to him. And though she may fight Rand every step of the way, it doesn’t keep her from falling for the big brute!
Chane Kal’yle was a tall, lean man with graying hair and an uncommonly deep voice when he spoke, and when Rand entered the study, the man immediately offered his hand in welcome. It was an old custom, still done on Earth, where Rand was originally from, and as Chane Kal’yle was from the planet Deuntaie, Rand appreciated the gesture.
"Mr. Barany, please sit,” the ambassador said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk.
Rand did as he was bid, and when they were both seated, it was Ambassador Kal’yle who spoke.“I must say, your resume is very impressive, Mr. Barany, for someone as young as you are,” he said, reading aloud as he scanned the holo-screen on his desk. “You completed your law degree along with a minor in civil administration in only two years, graduating with top honors. You graduated top of your class at the CP Academy, and then you were with civil protection for four years where you received many commendations for your performance. You were promoted to investigator after only three years. Then you worked with a private protection company for two years before going out on your own.” He turned his gaze on Rand. “You’ve protected quite a few prominent people, Mr. Barany, and all of them speak very highly of you.”
Rand inclined his head. “Thank you, Mr. Ambassador,” he said. He and Chane Kal’yle had already spoken earlier in the day, so he knew that he was being hired to protect the ambassador’s daughter. What he didn’t know was why he was being hired. “I’m flattered, Mr. Ambassador, and certainly interested in the job, but I also can’t help being a little curious as to why you would need me when you have your own security.”
Ambassador Kal’yle was silent for a moment before answering. “I’m going to be honest with you, Mr. Barany. My own security is not top of the line; they simply come with the position. But in recent months, the threats I’ve been receiving have become much more serious. I’m involved in several bills and agendas that have made me very unpopular with a few groups within our federated planets’ population. If it were just me, I would not be too concerned, but my daughter has been mentioned in some of the threats, and I am concerned that they will go after her to get to me. My daughter is very headstrong and my security team simply cannot keep up with her. She has gotten very good at eluding them to go where she pleases.” He frowned. “Just last night, she slipped away from her guard to go to some nightclub, and ended up getting arrested when protectors raided the place. That guard has since been dismissed, of course.” He leveled his gaze at Rand. “My daughter needs a bodyguard that she can’t bully and slip away from, Mr. Barany. Someone who will protect her from herself as well as others.”
It sounded more like the ambassador’s daughter needed a good spanking, Rand thought to himself, silently wondering if it had been wise to take on this job. It sounded like this girl was going to be a major pain in the ass. He had agreed to this job simply because protecting an ambassador’s family would be the crowning jewel on his resume, and would ensure that his current one-man company would grow in the future. So, Rand nodded. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure that she behaves herself, and to keep her safe.”
Chane Kal’yle nodded, apparently satisfied. “I suppose I should introduce you to my daughter, then.” Sitting back, he spoke to the house computer. “Mirlene, please ask Inarii to come to my study.”
“Of course, Ambassador,” the pleasant female voice answered.
A few minutes later, the door to the study opened and Inarii came into the room. Her father rose to his feet and Rand did the same, turning as he did so, only to find his resolve threatening to weaken at the sight of the ambassador’s beautiful daughter.
Though Inarii’s father was Deuntaien, her mother was of Earthen descent, and the combination was exotic looking. She was tall and slender like her father, but with just the right amount of womanly curves in all the right places. Courtesy of her Deuntaien heritage, her eyes were the clearest green he’d ever seen, and her full lips, as ridiculously clichéd as it sounded, looked like they’d been made for a man’s kisses. He had obviously seen many holos of her over the years, but none of them did justice to her actual beauty. She was truly stunning.
Rand felt himself suddenly grow hard as he thought about what else she could do with that mouth, and swore under his breath. He was here to protect the ambassador’s daughter. Keep her in line when necessary. Nothing more.“Allow me to present my daughter, Inarii,” the ambassador said. “Inarii, this is Rand Barany. I’ve hired him to be your new bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard...?” Her voice trailed off, and Rand saw her frown. “But Father, we already have plenty of guards.”
Chane Kal’yle gave his daughter an indulgent smile. “Guards who have other responsibilities. Mr. Barany’s only job will be to protect you, something he specializes in.” He gave her a pointed look. “He goes wherever you go, Inarii,” he said, and Rand thought that the man actually seemed to enjoy saying that to her.
Inarii’s eyes widened and took on a look of something close to panic as they darted to Rand, before her gaze went back to the ambassador. “But Father...”
"Inarii, I’ve made up my mind on this. You will accept Mr. Barany as your personal bodyguard. If not, I will send you home to Deuntaie, where I’m sure you’ll be safe.”
Her mouth fell open, but no words came out.
“I’ll let you and Mr. Barany get acquainted, shall I?” her father said, coming around the desk and making his way to the door.
Inarii watched him leave the room, staring at the closed door for a moment. She was dressed in the Deuntaien style, the gown sleeveless and belted criss-cross style around her middle to show off her slim waist, and the silky material skimmed over the tops of her sandal-covered feet as she whirled around to face Rand Barany.
She didn’t think she’d ever seen a more handsome man. He was tall and broad shouldered with dark hair, strong, angular features, and a wide, generous mouth. He was, if truth were told, just the type of man she was attracted to, though a bit older than the type she normally went for. But she didn’t need another bodyguard, especially one that followed her everywhere she went, no matter how handsome he was. The sooner she made that clear to him, the better.
“My father is confused, Mr. Barany,” she said stiffly. “He exaggerates the threat against us. Your services would be a waste of time. As I said, we have quite a few guards in our employment, and I truly doubt that we need another. I’m sure that your services could be put to better use elsewhere.”
Rand folded his arms across his chest. “Your father seems to have a completely different opinion,” he said. “But don’t worry, I’ll make this as easy on you as possible. You won’t even notice me.”
Inarii doubted that.
“Your father is only concerned about you,” he continued.
“My father is overprotective,” she countered. “If it were up to him, I would never leave the house.”
If it were up to Rand, she’d never leave his bed, he thought, and swore under his breath again. What the hell was wrong with him? It wasn’t like he’d never seen a beautiful woman before.
Inarii tossed her long, auburn hair over her shoulder and lifted her chin. “Well, if you insist on working for me, then there’s something you should know. I don’t tolerate insolence of any kind. Contrary to what my father thinks, I need my privacy, and I won’t have you following me around everywhere I go.”
Rand clenched his jaw at the imperious tone in her voice. “First of all, I don’t work for you, Ms. Kal’yle, I work for your father, and second of all, there’s something you should know about me. I don’t tolerate insolence, either. When I tell you to do something, it’s for your own safety, so you do it without question. I’m your bodyguard, which means that I’m at your side at all times, so there will be no sneaking off to go shopping at the market, or to go dancing at some nightclub, or to meet a lover for some secret rendezvous, or do whatever it is that you do when you sneak off. Unlike your other guards, I won’t put up with your antics.”
Inarii stared at Rand Barany, wondering where her father had found such an insufferable man, and just how much her father had told him about her? “How dare you...?”
Rand folded his arms across his chest. “Oh, I dare, Ms. Kal’yle. I’m not just your bodyguard, apparently I’m also your babysitter, so I fully expect you to behave yourself and do as I tell you. Do I make myself clear?”
Inarii felt herself blush at the words. “I’m not a child, Mr. Barany, to be ordered around!” she told him hotly.
“Then behave yourself and I won’t treat you like one. Then we’ll get along like two reasonable adults.” He glanced at his watch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
She stared at Rand Barany’s retreating back, her pulse racing, her breathing ragged, and a warmth that she didn’t want to put a name to spreading through her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was attracted to the man. Which was absolutely absurd, of course! Rand Barany was rude and arrogant. He probably never even went to a school of higher education, much less read a book. He was not at all the type of man she would be attracted to. She frowned at that – just minutes ago, she was telling herself that he was exactly the type of man she would be attracted to. But that was before she learned what an ass he was.
Inarii took a deep breath and let it out slowly, smoothing her gown with her hands, trying to calm herself. Getting poor Oland fired had taught her something, at least. All she had to do was make this Rand Barany look like an incompetent imbecile, and her father would have no choice but to fire him. She just had to make it seem like it was Rand’s fault, so that her father wouldn’t follow through on his threat to send her back to their home planet. A threat that she doubted he would follow through on anyway. At that point, she could either convince her father that she didn’t need a bodyguard, or she would keep going through them until there were none left that were willing to work for her father. One thing was for sure; this Rand Barany was not going to get the better of her
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Sunday, March 16, 2008
Writing is the easy part. You can attend workshops, read how-to books, pester the family and friends who don’t run when you approach them with a manuscript in hand and basically write to your heart’s content. It’s when those voices (said family, friends and characters inside your head) start talking and telling you that you could be the next (insert name: ie - Nora, Stephen King, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Anne McCaffery, etc,) that you start treading the very fine line of reality and fantasy. Scratch fantasy, insert insanity.
All writers have at least one defective personality part. For the most part, thick skin too. And a tendency to be hard of hearing when critics are not saying anything nice. If they didn’t, they’d stop writing, probably right before that one book that sends them to the NYTimes Bestsellers List.
They also tend to wander around muttering to themselves a lot. Depends on where they are in their cycle of psychosis but you may hear things like, “you really want to do that? I mean, sheesh, doesn’t fit in with the plot I wrote for you” or “I swear I’ll never write another sentence as long as I live!” or “No! I do not want you swinging off the top of the house, you’ll break your leg, you just wait, make me write the scene that way and you will end up in the hospital” or “There, I told you it wouldn’t work out, but no, Mr. Big-shot-hero man just had to do it his way and now I can’t write you out of that corner. So whatcha gonna do this time, eh?” See what I mean? Understanding spouses tend to shake their heads and tsk with sympathy. Kids roll their eyes. Neighbors make sure their children play across town.
Okay, so that doesn’t faze you. Fine. You just go ahead and try writing. And you’ll produce a novel or novella and think it will be the next big seller and by this time next year you’ll be on easy street spending all that lovely royalty money. Uh huh. The reality is, you’d better absolutely LOVE what you’re doing, and be madly, head over heels, twitterpated for your characters, because your enthusiasm might get someone to look at your precious manuscript. And it is precious. I don’t mean that sarcastically at all. Each and every manuscript had better be the sunshine of your heart or you will find it hard to go on when someone sends it back to you with an unkind note. Your darling may have a few defects.
Thankfully, with writing, they can be fixed. This is where your pride takes its first pounding. If you’re not strong enough to hear your baby is deformed, then writing isn’t for you. Can you be big enough to take constructive criticism? Some agents/editors will take the time to tell you where your manuscript is deficient. You may not agree, you may not understand, but those rejections are the kindest ones you will receive. If they didn’t care one bit, they wouldn’t tell you how to fix it. So no matter how it hurts, buck up, suck it up, and read their suggestions carefully then do your best to look at your manuscript objectively. Then fix it and submit it again. Most likely to another house unless you’ve been invited to send it back.
And when you are accepted? Will the bucks start rolling in then? Sorry, not quite yet. The truth is, if you’re writing for money and fame, then you’re writing for the wrong reasons. Write for the love of writing, for the pleasure of telling a story well. If you write well enough, and make a promotional effort in the right areas, at the right time, you might end up earning $.10 for every hour spent editing. Not writing, you’ll most likely never earn enough to cover that time, but if you keep at it long enough and work hard enough, in five to ten years you might earn as much as you do in your day job. Yup. The cold hard facts.
So do it for love. Do it for personal satisfaction. And keep that little wild hair handy to tickle your butt back into that chair and write to the voices in your head. You’ll make friends, experience camaraderie and learn a few life lessons along the way. Most of all, and here’s the really fun part, you’ll take on some of the traits of your characters and drive your family nuts. Yeah, it’s worth it.
Morgan Q. O'Reilly
Get Some Tonight
Available Now from Dark Eden Press
Halo in Her Pocket ~ Angel or Imp, you decide
Frozen ~ Where Ice is Hot
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Some covers plunge us straight into lust. Here’s the latest from Tess MacKall, the second in her scorching hot series about Bad Boy Gabriel. Even as we drool over those chiseled abs and pumped up biceps, we’re invited to grace the body with our favorite face (not to mention gun?) and create our very own personal fantasy. Yum!
Here’s a cover that draws us immediately into the mood and opulent surroundings of the heroine’s Victorian world - and, to me, one that matches the richly textured voice of its talented author, MC Halliday. And by the way, if luster and softness are part of what you seek when you pick up a book, you might like to stop by the Midnight Seductions Yahoo Group, where erotic poet R. Paul Sardanas posted poems and chatted with us yesterday afternoon.
Sometimes you have to read the fine print. I can hardly wait for the upcoming May 1 release of Quillia Rain’s erotic romance and suspense combo, In a Lover’s Silence. Very interesting file she’s carrying there!
I totally love my new cover from Freya’s Bower for my forthcoming romantic suspense Nadja’s Literary Cappuccino. Those faces peering out at us are tender and almost innocent, but dark times lie ahead in the steamy haze. It’s still a couple months till the book comes out, so here’s a sneak preview:
It all seems simple enough: Ukrainian immigrant Nadja Petrov is determined to hold on to her thriving new coffee shop, Nadja's Literary Cappuccino, and Java Beans District Rep Kevin Langley is equally determined to move into town with a Java Beans franchise and run her out of business. She scopes him out, he keeps a watchful eye on her, and the sparring begins. But there are other players involved, and the web of intrigue soon threatens Nadja, her shop and her aunt as well as Kevin, his franchise and his son. Within this caldron simmers a sexual attraction between Nadja and Kevin that catapults them to overcome their fears of intimacy and commitment. Their lovemaking is tender and raw. Can their love survive tragedy, doubts and fire?
See you next month!
Friday, March 14, 2008
Some experts theorize the start of fiction gender preference begins early. At a young age, girls can sit still for much longer periods of time than boys, says Louann Brizendine, author of The Female Brain. "Girls have an easier time with reading or written work, and it's not a stretch to extrapolate [that] to adult life," Brizendine says. “Indeed, adult women talk more in social settings and use more words than men,” she says futher. "Reading requires…the ability to 'feel into' the characters. That is something women are both more interested in and also better at than men."
Literary critic Lisa Zunshine, offers cognitive science to better understand fiction, with the hypothesis in her book, Why We Read Fiction. Ms. Zunshine suggests fiction as a literary form offers us pleasure because it engages our ability to mind-read, “a term used by cognitive psychologists, interchangeably with ‘Theory of Mind,’ to describe our ability to explain people’s behavior in terms of their thoughts, feelings, beliefs, and desires.”
Women are more likely than men to enjoy reading fiction because, “they generally want more input for their Theory-of-Mind adaptations,” says Zunshine. “They want to experience other ‘minds in action’—which is another way of defining ‘empathy’—much more than men do.”
Zunshine underscores the fact that cognitive research in this field is based on “average statistical scores,” and does not mean to absoloutely imply what individual men or women read. Also, she mentioned the biological difference between male and female Theory-of-Mind is small, and accounts for a theory of “somewhat greater” preference for fiction among women.
Regardless of why, the facts indicate women read the vast majority of fiction and yet, the mainstay of novels accepted by literary publishers and the opinions of fiction are written by men. As Lakshmi Chaudhry in the magazine, In These Times, wrote, "Unlike the gods of the literary establishment who remain predominately male—both as writers and critics—their humble readers are overwhelmingly female."
As a woman, a voracious reader and multi-genre author, I would like to believe my opinions count. Perhaps, we might consider genre fiction as the last bastion of the gender gap that began to crumble in the 1970’s. As with our stance then for equal rights, we should embrace our preferences as women and not be ashamed of enjoying fiction in any genre, be it romance or erotica or chick lit or mystery.
Nor should we view the voice of male literary critics important, with their evident support of male authored novels and discriminatory opinions of genre fiction.
Let us always remember, it’s what women read that generates success in the fiction publishing industry. The bottom line: until men begin reading and buying genre as we do, women make it a sustainable and viable business.
If women were to stop reading, the industry would absolutely crash and fold. Hark yea men of elitist literature, only women readers could put it back together again.
MC HallidayDeep, sometimes dark, always delicious tales of women through the ages http://members.shaw.ca/mchalliday/
HE KING'S DAUGHTER ~ Samhain Publishing
A BRIBE AGAINST THE INNOCENT ~DI Octavia Cambridge Mystery: Volume I
http://www.darkedenpress.com/genre_mainstream_myst-crime.html 2007 P&E Reader Polls voted # 5 Best Mystery Novel
A LION FROM THE FOREST ~DI Octavia Cambridge Mystery: Volume II http://www.darkedenpress.com/auth_mc-halliday.html
I CAME UP STAIRS ~A Victorian Courtesan's Memoirs: Book I http://www.darkedenpress.com/book_mc-halliday-i-came-up-stairs.html
Book trailers for THE KING'S DAUGHTER, A BRIBE AGAINST THE INNOCENT, A LION FROM THE FOREST and I CAME UP STAIRS at: http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=authormchalliday
Sources for facts and quotes used in this post: Why Hemingway Is Chick-Lit/Women read more fiction than men by Lakshmi Chaudhry In These Times August 16, 2006 Why Women Read More Than Men by Eric Weiner September 5, 2007 NPR.org
Thursday, March 13, 2008
With spring just around the corner, my thoughts always turn to visiting the zoo. All the shows and new animals added during the year are a bonus. But, it wasn’t all memorable at one of my visits.
The principal of the grade school in our community asked each parent to act as chaperone to watch over four students. The time I volunteered as chaperone is one I’ll never forget.
I was assigned a group of fourth and fifth grade boys to take around to see the different animals. At that age, the young guys are more than a little curious. My group wanted to stop at the ape house first. When we were within a few feet of the ape cage all the boys stood close to the heavy bars watching with interest the activity going on inside.
Hearing giggles, I was in for a shock. A huge orange orangutan was leaning back and enjoying himself immensely as he moved his hand back and forth between his legs stroking himself. The more I tried to move my group along, the more resistance I got. It didn’t look as though they were ready to leave the exciting show behind.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I felt the orangutan knew he had a captive audience and decided to give them more of what they were clapping for. When I glanced around, I saw a few adults watching trying to hide snickers. That didn’t help my situation much.
Before boarding the bus to come home, we were near a fenced in field, with a number of antelope wandering around. I thought everything sexual ended with the orangutan, but I was wrong. It looked as if one of the antelope’s wanted to mate with another and this drew the kid’s attention again. I wondered if spending all winter cooped up inside gave the animals more vigor and their only interest in the spring turned to sex.
So many questions flew my way seconds later. What was the antelope doing to the other antelope? Was he trying to hurt him? Were they fighting? All I could say was I don’t know. No and no.
You can bet one thing. I’d never volunteer to take inquisitive young boys to the zoo again. Now, if they’d asked me to chaperone them anywhere else, I would be ready and willing.
I’ll leave you today with information about my new release. Watch for Rekindled Love coming soon from Dark Eden Press.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
It's no secret that I'm into Yoga and meditation as well. It's good for the body, mind, and soul- but did you know how good it was for sex? Part of a happy and fulfilled life is a great sex life. Different Yoga poses can lead to better controlled sexual poses. One branch of Yoga, called Kundalini, deals with harnessing your sexual power. Yoga asanas and breathing exercises will help you achieve a good, healthy state. Being relaxed can help to cure impotence and other physiologically weaknesses. Yoga can help you attain a greater degree of relaxation.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
A hand tangled in her hair, and held her head, Garin whispered in her ear. “That’s it, little one, scream, cry, beg, let me have it all.”
Jessie moaned as he slid the whip across her clit, then let go of her hair. She waited for another blow from the whip, but it didn’t come. Instead she felt the vibrator being removed. The bed bowed as Garin got on the bed, knelt between her legs and lifted her hips. She moaned again as he entered her, and began to move slowly in and out of her.
“Please,” she begged, she had to have some release. “Faster… harder.”
He complied, and she felt her body contract, her muscles spasm. Garin came with her, holding her hips when her body went limp, so he could finish. As he let her down, the scarves untied and released her. She half turned, and removed the blindfold, to look at him. He grinned at her and lay next to her.
(Excerpt from Jessie’s Dirty Little Secret)
Now that you’re all hot and bothered, here’s my question…Why do we erotic / romance writers put so much influence on the orgasm?
I mean in real life a woman doesn’t have an orgasm every single time we have sex, yet in our books the heroine is expected to. The readers expect it. Granted in Jessie’s Dirty Little Secret, Jessie is having sex with an incubus so he wants her to orgasm. But in contemporary book with just a normal guy and gal, why?
Also now a days, reader don’t always want stars exploding. They want it straight.
The thing is an orgasm isn’t always mind blowing, some times it’s nothing more than the vaginal walls contracting and relaxing. Like in Jessie. Yes there are those that leave you trembling and unable to move. Those are the ones we all strive for, and a few luck woman get them, over and over.
Perhaps I just answered my own question, we write them so we can have them. Even if it’s just in our mind.
~~ Jade Twilight~~
Love prefers Twilight to daylight.
So fondle my pages, and I'll turn you on.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
I figured that subject header would catch your attention.
Elizabeth Black here. I'm one of the writers with Midnight Seductions. My f/f contemporary erotic short story "Neighbors" was accepted by Dark Eden Publications about a week ago. I received my contract in my e-mail two days ago!!!! I am so psyched! My paranormal erotic romance novel "An Unexpected Guest" is being looked at right now by Ellora's Cave. It will be awhile before I hear more from EC, but at least I made it past the first hurde. This novel takes place in a haunted bed and breakfast on the Massachusetts coast, right next to the Atlantic ocean.
My fiction has appeared in Scarlet Magazine, Tit-Elation, and For The Girls. I'm currently working on some UFO Abduction/Sex stories for a new e-zine from Hawaii. That one will be online in a couple of months. I also write sex articles and quizzes for a sex toys web site.
I have a fun and sexy blog called The Countess. Go to this link to see my latest insanity:
My MySpace page is located here: Elizabeth Black - MySpace
Feel free to head to both blogs to read my latest excerpts (especially from Scarlet) and my sex posts.
I am the sex writer for the British e-zine, Nuts4chic. For those in the States, N4C is very similar to People Magazine and other celebrity gossip/pop culture rags. My column appears every Wednesday, give or take. My next column will be about either cunnilingus or fun places to have sex outside the bedroom (plus the thrill of almost getting caught!).
Here is a link to one of my previous N4C articles. Iit's a scorcher about giving a great blow job. This article was so hot that it didn't pass the N4C censor the week it was scheduled to air, and N4C had to run my oldie but goodie about the Altoids mints/blowjob myth (click on the link to read that article. It's fun!). I toned the article down from a five alarm fire to a three alarm, but it's still a scorcher.
In order to tone down the article, I left out the part about giving a woman a "pearl necklace", because it was probably a bit too over the top, and I realized at the last minute that women don't get "pearl necklaces" from giving head. If anyone reading has no clue what I'm talking about and wants to know what a pearl necklace is, just ask me and I'll post the def in comments.
Enjoy the read! Here's the article: Going Down Anyone?
Here's an excerpt, including commentary from Jade Twilight, another Midnight Fantasies author:
Don't limit yourself to your mouth. Jade reminds us that we can use our lips, mouth, hands, and even our breasts. Above all, be gentle. Don't leave teeth marks on him. He's sensitive, and when it hurts it's no fun. My husband likes to brag that, in the early days of our relationship, I broke him. Twice. I was a little rough on him, and it complained by steering clear of me for awhile. He told one of his co-workers about what I had done, and every time I saw that guy, he gave me the warmest, most welcoming grin. I bet he fantasized about me more than a few times. I love having that kind of power over men.
I also describe four fun BJ techniques, listed as follows:
No clue what they are and you are dying to know? Read the article!!!
Hi everyone, My name is…Dee Dawning and I’ll be writing the blog for Midnight Seductions on or about the ninth of each month.
For those who scratch their collective heads and wonder who the h*ll is Dee Dawning, here is a thumbnail. I live in
Back to the blog. Sometimes what I write will be serious and sometimes I may be a little silly. For my first blog, I’m going to be serious. Well, almost. My subject is the male response to the eternal women’s question, ‘Does Size Matter? Are you ready?
Does Size Matters to Men?
Size has been debated among women for hundreds of years, maybe since Adam and Eve. (Eve used to talk to Adam’s other ribs) So I thought a little input from a male perspective might be in order. Yes, a lover should be thoughtful, adventurous, imaginative, have good technique, etc. and proper sized equipment to satisfy his partner.
I’m an average male with average equipment and an over-average imagination. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to be a freak, but an inch here and an eighth of an inch there would be fine with me.
Now, Mother Nature, in her infinite wisdom not only didn’t make all peni$es alike. She also didn’t make all vagin@s alike. Ladies, I ask you, does it make sense that an average woman with an average size vagin@ can’t be satisfied by an average size peni$?
Case in point, a former wife (deceased) divorced her first husband because he was too big. Let me repeat that—not too small but TOO B-I-G. So obviously, there can be a downside to being upsized. However, like in Goldilocks, my average sized peni$ fit just right.
So ladies think about this. If you feel the men you have sex with are undersized, is it really them or you? Could the wondrous, dainty and little tunnel of love, between your legs not be so little after all? In reality might it be the size of Carlsbad Cavern?
For Rachel, sex isn’t dirty; it’s a celebration of life. Rachel Cooke doesn’t give it to just anyone, but once she does, she enjoys it to the maximum, so prepare for the sexual experience of your life.
Rachel, can’t help but notice the luscious man sitting next to her at the bar in Pokey’s restaurant and lounge. His name is Scott and he seems preoccupied. When he starts mumbling indelicacies about Reverend Robertson and someone named Carol, Rachel’s innocent question appears to set inevitable romantic forces in motion.
They go dancing and as the evening progresses, so does their attraction. It’s evident they desire each other but Rachel has issues. It’s not obvious, but Rachel has a mixed race background and after just ending a disastrous relationship with Lester, her agent, she is not about to get close to anyone without laying her cards on the table. When Scott casually remarks that like her, he too, is only interested in getting to know her and if she happened to be sitting naked next to him, he wouldn’t lay a hand on her. She takes him up on it.
This leads them to spend a sexless night, fully naked in her Hilton hotel suite, a test of his resolve and character. Scott has no idea of the sexual adventuress that lies beneath Rachel’s demur, delightfully perky persona and after a wet hot passionate interlude in the shower, the following morning, all hell breaks loose and they wind up making love everywhere. Even in the depths of Hoover Dam.
In closing here’s a couple one liners from the late, great Rodney Dangerfield.
A girl phoned me the other day and said "Come on over, there's nobody home." I went over. Nobody was home.
“When I was a kid my parents moved a lot, but I always found them.”