Thursday, June 30, 2011
Also, if you haven't yet, today is the very last day for you to enter to win the Country Chic gift set from Bath & Bodyworks! Click on the "Contests" tab to find out how. :)
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Congrats on your first publication, Sam! :)
What makes the perfect hero?
This question will have a different answer for everyone. We all have different tastes in men and in women. The hero in a romance story is one of the crucial parts to any story as is the heroine. For many years I was a plain and simple reader and to be honest I never really thought much about the characters. I either liked the story or didn’t.
Then because I like to challenge myself I started a career path of becoming a writer and now everything I find I have to look into detail. What type of hero would be perfect for my story? Is he mean or tender? A bad boy or the sweet boy next door? Is he sexy or rugged? Aged or mature? Young or dangerous? All these questions go around my head. I have certain authors I read who handle the dangerous guy perfectly; Diana palmer, J.R.Ward, Kresley Cole the list can continue.
Why does this have any relevance to me? Well, after spending the last three years writing, earlier this year—March—I finally received my first official acceptance email. Since then, it has been one long ride. This week—June 20th—Office hours was finally released in e-book.
Anya my key female character is a gutsy fiery red head and she needed the right kind of male to tame her. This was a struggle for me, as she was a difficult woman to let loose on the unsuspecting male characters rolling around in my head.
Not one man would do. He would have to take her and love every part of her for whom she was and would not try to change her in any way. He would need to be strong but affectionate. Anya maybe strong and give the attitude she doesn’t need a man, but in truth, she just wants to be loved.
She has been hurt in the past and cut off all of her emotional attachment to men. Her relationships are based on the more clinical.
Nathan Banks was perfect for her. He is strong, tender, affectionate and would never change anything about this woman who tempts and teases and makes up all the empty parts of his life.
I have a real affection for this couple. One of the reasons because it was the first story of mine to be published but also because for the first time the couple really seemed right. They took me on this story. I remember once being asked why I didn’t write my own stuff—at the time I didn’t write anything—and my lame reason was I would know the ending. I would know the outcome. That is why we read, to escape and to be in a world that is not our own. I thought I would know all my stories from back to front even before I typed a single word.
How wrong I was.
I never know how a story is going to end. I start writing with my characters in mind and how I would like it to end but with Office hours, I really didn’t anticipate the turns they made together.
I would love to know your thoughts on the perfect man. Who is your idea of the best male character? I have so many characters I love but the one that comes instantly to mind is Zsadist. He is damaged but still willing to learn and to love and has one of the most beautiful endings in a story I think. I was almost crying by the end of it.
Sam Crescent is passionate about fiction. She loves a good erotic romance and so it only made sense for her to spread her wings and start writing. She began writing in 2009 and finally got that first acceptance in 2011 by Total-E-Bound.
She loved creating new characters and delving into the worlds that she creates. When she’s not panicking about a story or arguing with a character, she can be found in her kitchen creating all kinds of havoc. Like her stories the creations in the kitchen can be just as dubious but sometimes things turn out great.
You can find me at:
Blurb: Office Hours
Fiery redheaded temptress Anya King is desperate for the carnal delights of
a pleasure weekend. A chance to indulge in every sexual fantasy… But demanding, sexy boss, Nathan Banks, has signed them both up for a ‘team-building’ weekend in the beautiful country town of Buxton.
An innocent weekend turns to hot, lusty sex—hot enough to melt the snow outside and the ice around their hearts. Will the job Anya loves survive the weekend? And will their time together be more than just a moment?
Excerpt: Office Hours
“What the hell is this?” Anya King stormed into her boss’s office carrying the offending memo and slammed it with as much force as she could muster onto his desk.
Nathan Banks stopped typing to glance at his personal assistant, then at the memo he’d left on her desk while she went out to lunch. “It’s about a team-building weekend. It’s a new scheme to help colleagues work together better.”
“I can clearly see what it’s about, Mr Banks. What I want to know is why my name is on that list?” Anya placed a hand on her hip. She needed to keep her head, relax and breathe.
“I signed us up for the course as a team.” He pushed the paper away, looking at her with calm composure. Anya felt anything but calm.
“You did this without even consulting me?” She swallowed down her anger, keeping her fiery temper at bay. Work relationships were supposed to be kept professional. It wouldn’t do for her to lose her temper.
“ In case you hadn’t noticed, Miss King, I happen to own this company, what I say goes and if I think this weekend will benefit my company, as my personal assistant you’ll be accompanying me. No questions asked.” He looked pointedly at the memo until she picked it up again.
Anya watched him go back to his computer, his sure, sturdy hands typing purposefully away. Clever hands that could bring a woman all kinds of sexual pleasure, if all of the rumours floating around the office were true. Anya tried not to think about her boss and sex. It was wrong and unprofessional, but sometimes when she was alone images of Nathan crept into her mind, and not all of them in employer-employee situations.
“I have plans this weekend.” She folded her arms underneath her full breasts. She needed this weekend! There was only so long she could resist her natural urges. Face it, she was over-sexed. Images of Nathan fucking her had entered her mind one too many times of late. Time away with another man, or men, should put her system back to rights. Nathan could go back to being just a man she happened to work for.
“Cancel it.” He didn’t even lift his head.
“How am I supposed to cancel at the last minute?” She wasn’t going to give in just like that. He was going to hear her out whether he liked it or not.
But Nathan was just as stubborn as she. “Find a way. It’s not my problem. I’ll see you here tomorrow at nine. Pack for a busy weekend and read the memo, it’ll tell you what you need.” He dismissed her, lifting up his phone to dial an associate.
Anya thought about waiting it out, to see if he really was calling someone and not just doing it to get rid of her. Instead she nodded, simmering to herself, took the memo and quietly left his office, closing the door without making a sound.
Sitting behind her desk, she grabbed her bag, pulling out her ticket and the file about her planned pleasure weekend. Tomorrow she was supposed to be leaving for a small, isolated mansion, where every little lust and desire the body craved could be experienced, along with the promise of total anonymity. The ticket alone would have left most people crying at the cost. She could only just afford it on her salary.
She sighed. It was a good job the ticket could be used on any weekend over the course of a month. But her ticket was for December, one of the busiest times of the year, which meant her time was already in short supply.
Anya usually went for the first weekend of the month, but overtime at work, along with life in general, had got the better of her this month, so she had been planning to spend the second weekend of December at her erotic hideaway. Had been, until her domineering boss had demanded her presence on his stupid team-building weekend. He said, “Jump,” and she had no choice but to say, “How high?” Anya took pride in her work, but sometimes being the best personal assistant was a pain in the arse. The reward for good work was more work. Shaking her head in disappointment, she reflected that at least there were still two weekends left after this work-together-better nonsense or whatever he wanted to call it. She folded up her ticket and placed it carefully back in her bag.
She could survive this weekend, but she would need reinforcements. Sexual reinforcements.
Snag your copy of Office Hours today from Total E-Bound!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
The prompt: "The difference is I lie for a reason!"
"What's this?" Landon held up Tina's open wallet while she was sitting at the vanity mirror, touching up her makeup.
She glanced at him under long lashes, and a wry smile touched her lips. "Looks like a jerk going through my purse to me."
He looked at the accessory again. They'd met at a bar the previous night, and he'd taken her back to a hotel room for a night of passion she'd never forget. But he'd underestimated the young woman's own talents in the bedroom. That thing she'd done with her tongue...He shook himself out of his heated reverie before new problems began to arise.
"You were drinking at a bar."
"Do three years make that much of a difference?"
Landon's cheeks grew hot. "It's the difference between a thirty-five year old having sex with someone in their twenties and a teenager."
Tina laughed. She was laughing at him. Landon looked down at the wallet again, still in shock. Last night had been nothing less than amazing. He was going to ask to see her again. But now...
The curvy, dark-haired beauty sat down next to him on the bed. She reached out and brushed his hair off of his forehead.
"You lied, too, you know."
"What did I lie about?"
Tina lifted his left hand and kissed his ring finger. He glanced down. The tan line was visible where his wedding ring had once been.
"The difference is I lie for a reason," he answered defensively.
"What reason is that?"
"I'm unhappy. She doesn't treat me right."
Tina laughed again. She was dressed; her makeup was perfect. She kissed his cheek and stood. "You never asked my age."
"You were in a bar!"
"Landon..." her smile was slightly sympathetic, almost condescending. Landon had a hunch he was dealing with the youngest, cold-hearted vixen he'd ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. And he was right. "I know you. I know your type. Don't think you're outsmarting anyone. I chose you last night. You're my plaything. I'll never be yours."
She touched his hair again, a last tender gesture to go with the sting of her words. The door snapped shut behind her, difinitively. Nothing had gone the way Landon had planned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wedding band. He slipped it back onto his finger, examined it.
Would he do it again? Landon stood and picked up his jacket, preparing to go home. He'd read once that men who cheated had an addiction. He was on number four, and this one had shaken him.
But, yes, he'd probably be right back at that same bar next Friday night, picking up some hot young thing. Only this time, he'd be sure to check their ID.
Visit the other flashers!
Lindsay Klug (m/f)
Pender Mackie (m/m)
Lily Sawyer (m/m)
Victoria Blisse (m/f)
Julie Hayes (m/m)
Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
Monday, June 20, 2011
Also, if you haven't heard, Westridge is going into print!! I haven't been this excited in a very long time! Check out the pre-realease screen by clicking the pic below. The $9.99 paperback will be available on July 4th!
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Creating The Perfect Series
Once I was published, I had a ‘what now’ moment. In that moment of OMG, I wondered where do I go from this very spot and how do I get there. So now, I’m contemplating my next work and decide I want something where I can take them beyond book one. I had always loved series when I read science fiction and fantasy. I had loved how Janet Dailey tied all her romance novels together in the eighties.
So, just what was I going to do?
I sat down and knew I wanted to write something specific to Christmas. I love Christmas. Here in the desert, we have been blessed only a few times with snow which had me jazzed to no end. Now it doesn’t stay long but it is certainly an inspiration when it happens. But the months before Christmas were pretty boring, so I attempted to bring Christmas a little closer by coming up with a plot which involved a place with a lot of snow.
And since I wrote romance, I had to make it sexy and cool and wonderful. So, I sat down and thought hard. Just how was I going to get this going? And how was I going to get Santa involved? Then moving on, I thought what does Santa do? Why bring presents of course! Then going a step further, now why would Santa want to bring home a girl? Then suddenly, it all came together like a puzzle in my head.
The first book would be about a sad elf that was lonely and the present Santa brings home for him. And it had to have a great back story I could draw from and the Locklin family of elves were born. So I’d just have to wait for the book to come out to see what would happen.
Well, I got some of the coolest reviews...the best being... ‘This was definitely one of the sweetest erotic romances I've read.’ This one actually blew me away as I had thought I was pushing some boundaries here. Nope, turns out it was just good writing and a timely subject.
And the year I was planning the rest of this series was one of those rare times. I could see the snowflakes falling down from my office window and I wondered just what would be next in this wonderful world I had created. Well, there were six siblings, a cousin and some other friends, both elf and humans, who would add to the overall mix.
Originally, I had been set to just do a book at Christmas, then one summer an idea came to me that I just couldn’t get rid of...and that was for the little elf called Eggther. That was last year and I thought what better way than to follow it up with another summer book. And I did.
The next summer, Giselle’s Elf, the sixth book in the series came out. This is the culmination of all those thoughts and classes and experience I have ever had as a writer. That December, book seven, called An Elf’s Love came out and this book along with the last one took a completely different turn than I could have ever imagined.
And of course, that will spawn many, many more books in the wonderful world I created.
Lynn Crain realized at an early age she wanted to write. She took the long way to that goal by doing a variety of things like nursing, geologist, technical writer and computer manager. Even though she is no longer in the medical field, Lynn has studied natural medicine and remedies for years. She is currently getting her Ph.D. in natural medicine with an emphasis on historical medicine and is still utterly fascinated with all things medical. During her free time she weaves fantasy, futuristic and paranormal tales as well as erotic stories for various publishers. She lives in the very hot southwest with her husband, son, one dog, three cats and a snake named Sandune. She is a past board member of the Romance Writers of America, past VP of EPIC and current EPPIEs Chairman for EPIC.
She loves hearing from her readers at email@example.com.
Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/XtraOrdinaryRomance
Blurb: Night of the Blue Moon
One incredible story about that special night which changes them all. Forever.
All his life he felt he hadn’t belonged but it wasn’t until Clarity Langford appeared did he know the truth of it. Once that truth was revealed there was no going back for Connor Angus, only forward. He knows his arrival on the scene has thrown his sisters for a loop and turned their ordered world into chaos in more ways than he can imagine. Still, he had to find his way among the Elite that he had been trained to fight all his life when he discovered he is the long thought dead son of pack Elite leader, Charles Langford. And with that knowledge comes a family full of sisters, mystery and longing for things he’s not sure he has any right to obtain.
He had always been in this cage in one-way or another. It was only recently they had decided to make it his permanent room. He did remember a time when the cage hadn’t been necessary, when he had been a younger man, but that had all changed with the appearance of the blonde bitch. Or had it?
Since Connor Logan Angus had grown to manhood, it was as if the whole clan were afraid of him, of what he could do. They were his family, weren’t they? He shook his head furiously. Of course they were. He had always been with them, had never known anything else. Then why did he feel like he didn’t belong? Why did it feel like he was an outsider? And it just wasn’t the fact of his ice blue eyes or white blonde hair any more; there was more to it and he knew it.
Again, he could trace it back to the time about five years ago when some of the Betas had brought back a prize, claiming it to be an Elite Princess. Being the good son, he stayed in the shadows like his father Rowan had wanted. His father always wanted him in the shadows. He never wanted him to be seen at all and Connor couldn’t understand why. He was one of the best fighters in the clan and it irked him to no end that he was never allowed to go and fight with his brothers. Nevertheless, Father always assured him he was being saved for something special.
And this night had been no different. Kill and Rufus has brought the woman in, dragging her while she fought the whole time. Connor had always done what he was told but this time it felt wrong. Really wrong. He warred with himself until he could stand it no more. He stepped out of the shadows only to be hit by a psychic wave of energy that nearly dumped him on his ass.
Don’t let them do this to me, she pleaded, the voice booming in his head.
It took everything in him to not react. Sure he had been told that he had special powers but no one had prepared him for what they might be. He knew he could change into a wolf but it had only happened once. Being able to hear another’s thoughts, now that was something totally new and unimaginable. Again, he willed himself not to react at all, pressing his new-found gift further within himself.
“Connor,” snarled Kill, “get back into the shadows. You don’t want Father to know you were out here.”
Confused, he turned to him. “I – why are you doing this?” he questioned. This was the first time he had ever questioned his brother. Many who did so did not live to tell the tale.
“It’s none of your affair. Just do what you’re told.” Kill shoved him out of his way. “If you don’t watch it, you’ll be caged like the animal you are.”
Connor, more confused than ever, slunk back into the shadows and watched. This was not the time to try and best his brother. Not knowing if he would succeed, he tried to contact the woman. I’m sorry, I can’t help you. Although he was in deep shadow, her head pivoted his way and as if realizing her mistake, looked in another direction.
"Who are you?”
The voice was loud and clear. There was no mistaking that he had a telepathic link to this woman. More confused than ever, he shook his head. My name is Connor Logan Angus.
But you can’t be one of them.I am a member of the Beta clan. I am the third son.
That can’t be.
And why not?
Can you link with them like you are with me?
I don’t know. I’ve never tried.
Whether you know it or not, I do.
Only those of the same clan or family members can link. I’m an Elite. So what does that make you?
Connor sunk back into the shadows even more. That sick feeling he had been having recently floated to the top again. That’s impossible. There’s no way I can be part of your clan. I don’t understand any of this.
That makes two of us.
Buy Link: http://www.loose-id.com/Blue-Moon-Magic-4-Night-of-the-Blue-Moon.aspx
Saturday, June 18, 2011
And also stop by the Silver Publishing page to snag your copy of Westridge!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
But Amber didn't die. She peeked through her fingers. Jasmine had escaped the lake and sat, trembling, about fifteen feet away, watching the water and creatures before her. Amber didn't want to look at them, but she did.
It wasn't in time to see much. Most of the damage had been done. The bloody corpse of the lake monster sank beneath the water; the dog that was sometimes the love of her two lives didn't look much better, but he was standing, victorious.
He hadn't gone after Jasmine at all. He'd wanted the monster. He was protecting her.
The dog's eyes landed on Amber. He began to advance. Amber stood still. She was tired. Two days ago, her life had been normal. And now she'd done everything she could to get it back to the way it was and bring Raven with her. Instead, she'd dragged Jasmine down. And she wouldn't soon forget the fact that Jasmine's friend Paul had been killed in the process.
Curses and blood fed this land. But so did love. So Amber waited for the dog, waited for Raven.
He sat in front of her, then laid down at her feet, and closed his eyes. Amber knelt to the ground and touched his head. She knew something was happening, something important. But she didn't know what. Then the dog morphed, and it was Raven again. Amber stared at his beautiful, naked form.
Raven's black eyes opened, and he raised himself into a seated position. He blinked blearily, then focused his gaze on Amber.
"Is it over?" she asked.
Raven looked himself over. It was as if he'd been in another world; he was collecting himself, getting to know himself again. A strange, happy smile appeared on his lips.
"Is he gone?"
"Yes." Rave touched her face lightly with his fingertips. "I think he finally realized that you'll cross generations to be with me." Amber smiled. Raven kissed her sweetly on the lips. "And he let me save Jasmine." He glanced over at Amber's friend, and she followed his gaze.
The poor girl was just staring at them, white-faced. Her roommate was kissing a naked werewolf, and there was a dead lake monster twenty feet away from her, concealed by the water. Amber could understand her shock.
"I'll find some clothes," Raven said softly. "I need to sleep. And then we can figure out our lives together. In freedom."
A corner of Amber's mouth lifted in a smile. Raven moved in the direction of the campsite.
Jasmine watched him warily. Raven tried to give her a reassuring smile, tried to say hello, but Jasmine was determined to remain silent when it came to him. She needed to pretend he didn't exist. Amber managed to make her way over to her friend. They were both shaky, the adrenaline from the day's events wearing off.
She and Raven would be okay. The secrets were all revealed, and the dog was gone. But she wasn't so sure about Jasmine.
"Do you want to talk?" Amber asked, and Jasmine shook her head. "It's hard to explain."
"You can't pretend this never happened."
"I can't pretend what never happened?"
Jasmine looked her in the eye. It might have been amusing if her friend wasn't dead serious. But she was. And who knew? Maybe Jasmine really would be able to convince herself that today had all just been a dream. She'd sleepwalked and hit her head. Paul had never existed.
"Come on, Jasmine. We'll get you home."
Jasmine nodded, and Amber helped her friend to her feet. They went to the camp site. Raven had been understandably exhausted, and he was already asleep inside. Amber rummaged through his things until she found the motorcycle keys.
"Here, Jasmine. Take these and the bike and go. Leave the keys on my dresser. I'll be back eventually."
Jasmine looked from her friend to the man she must still view as a monster.
"I don't understand."
"It doesn't matter." Amber shrugged and gave a half-hearted smile. "It's just a dream, anyway."
Jasmine nodded and began walking away in the direction Amber pointed. Then Amber crawled into the tent and laid down next to her slumbering love. This might be Jasmine's nightmare, but for Amber and Raven the nightmare was finally over. The confusion was clear, the memories were real, and with the dog finally accepting his death, they would finally be able to live their lives out together, the way they were always meant to.
Be sure to check out this week's other Silver Flashers!
Julie Hayes (m/m)
Lindsay Klug (m/f)
Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
To Write or Not Write---That is the question…
That is the question plaguing all writers with no clear cut answer. All of us in our own ways have hindrances to our writing. Some may be the DREADED DAY JOB while others it could be family, children, issues… etc. Ever wonder how Lori Foster, Nora Roberts and Angela Knight manage to turn out so many great books in a year? I know I did until some gracious authors clued me into their secrets. It’s all about time management and having a game plan. Even if you only have an hour a day to write, you can still use your time effectively and wisely! Here are some tips:
1. Keep a small notepad handy wherever you are to jot down ideas. This is great and I keep mine with me at all times (and I do mean ALL times) so I can do my own version of shorthand to get the ideas down.
2. Work up a small outline on this pad to get general ideas of your characters and plot outline and such. It will help during the writing process.
3. Get to know your characters and give them quirks to add more dimension. Such as this character snaps their fingers when they’re nervous or angry or maybe the heroine bats her eyes when she sees a man etc
4. This is my secret: I write between 7-9 each night and everyone in the house knows not to bother me unless anything is bleeding or hanging at a funny angle. I know I don’t have children and that isn’t always possible but if you have an understanding spouse/partner, they should understand and help you out.
5. Write, write, write!!!
In order to make your dreams come true, you must be persistent!! That’s the key. Success is 1% talent and 99% perseverance. You can only improve yourself if you keep writing and learning!
To quote a very successful business man who happens to be working with my husband, I’ll just say: “If the dream is big enough, the facts don’t matter”—Dexter Yager.
Tracy L. Ranson
Passion and Desire….Across Time.
I’ve been an avid fan of history all my life. That love started in my childhood. Instead of reading us fairy tales, my father would read to us from history books that he had, on all different subjects and levels. Intrigued by the past, I hungered to read more…
As I child, I would re-write the endings of all my books if I didn’t like the way they ended. My mother thought it was cute but she had no idea then what would happen today. It was only natural that later I would go onto writing.
I earned an engineering degree before I started writing, focusing all of my time and energy on it. After a while an opportunity to change careers came into play and I took it. My passion for writing came to the forefront.
With the love and support of my husband I am able to live the dream of being a writer. He is my inspiration for romance and what true love really is.
We live in a quite little neighborhood about two minutes from where I grew up. Our house is filled with 5 tails and 5 sets of paws. Thomas, Pavel and Victor our beloved felines. Weird names you ask? My husband is a hockey fanatic and decided to name all the pets with the names of current hockey players. Toby and Izzy are border collie/dachshund mix (don't ask because their mommy was the border collie) who are boundless bundles of energy that are always so happy to see me when I come home (so is hubby!)
My dream in life has always been to mold ideas and bring stories to life that are near and dear to everyone’s heart. I am very fortunate to be living my dream now. Continuing to hone my craft with each new book, I hope I am able to touch upon my readers and inspire them.
Sneak Peek into His Wicked Intentions
Available at Desert Breeze Publishing
Buy at: http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-158/Tracy-Ranson-His-Wicked/Detail.bok
India Rookwood, daughter of an English lord, flees her country home in Scotland to escape her arranged marriage. She spends the night in the safety of Craogh Falloch only to be discovered by pirates. Taken to their captain, she sizes up the well built blond pirate reminiscent of the Vikings of old. She stands up to him and his demands, discovering in short order she stood before The Falcon, notorious pirate of legend and her father’s mortal enemy. From that moment on, India questions whether she can stand the against the tide of HIS WICKED INTENTIONS.
EXCERPT: His Wicked Intentions
Captain Rafe Blackthorne watched his men amble down the hill with a strange, resistant figure in front of them. It was a woman from the way her thin gown flapped in the breeze, and from her gait, she did not seem a bit happy about coming aboard his ship. Where did they find her? He growled low. No matter. He would frighten her into never coming back to this area again. The less people knew about his hiding place, the better.
He leaned against the mizzen mast with his thumbs casually jammed into the worn waistband of his threadbare breeches, idly watching her approach. Her presence could prove interesting. He hadn't had a woman aboard his ship for nearly a year, at least not since Jamaica. That particular female had been a whore who had stowed away in the hopes of heading toward a new life elsewhere. What she discovered later had been his price for her freedom. He had enjoyed himself quite thoroughly with his payment but had grown bored with her quickly so he dropped her off at the next port.
The new woman possessed hair as black as night, tumbling down her slender shoulders in soft, cascading waves. Her lithe form possessed high breasts, indicative of youth. He frowned. He would have guessed her to be much older from her stride.
She stormed up his gangplank, her fists clenched at her sides. His men halted their work and cast their gazes to this newcomer, a mixture of curiosity and lust written on their features. Grayson and the others lumbered up behind her. "Get moving, gel! Me captain is waiting!"
Rafe watched the expression on her face deepen. Her cheeks burned a deep crimson, a color he found extremely attractive. A woman normally did not sport such a hue until she left a man's bed.
"Where is this captain you speak of?" He smirked.
She possessed a fiery nature, one he could see himself enjoying.
She threw a look over her slender pale shoulder and noticed him. Her eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you looking at?"
"I wish you to refrain from looking at me. I doubt whether your captain would be pleased at this."
Rafe couldn't help but smile. He stood and towered over her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, he would be." He reacted instantly beneath his breeches to the whiskey-colored depths of her eyes, a mixture of innocence with a hint of deep secrecy. A slash of black lashes, a shade darker than her hair, framed those pretty orbs.
An inky eyebrow rose. "How so?" Her plump lips, rosy and red, emanated a silent enticement to be kissed. Perhaps he would have to accept her invitation and find out what else lay beneath her perfect exterior.
"Because I'm the captain."
Her shoulders fell back and her well-formed jaw dropped. "Yo -- you're the captain? You're the Black Falcon?"
His gaze traveled down, and he noticed the way her lovely breasts rose and fell in a quick rhythm, almost as if she could not control herself around him. He liked that -- sometimes. "Why do you find that so shocking?"
"No reason." She turned her face away from his as if she couldn't bear to look at him another moment more. "Why am I here?"
He turned to his first mate. "Why have you brought her?"
Grayson scratched his grizzled chin. "Well, Cap'n, I found her in ye cave, and I thought 'tis best I brung her."
"Good." Rafe turned to his new captive. "Who are you, girl?"
She lifted her blazing amber stare to face him, the previous emotions deepening and arousing the sleeping beast of desire within. "I will tell you if you let me go."
He took a reflexive step forward and gripped her slender arms. "Not until you tell me, will I let you go." Lust nipped at Rafe's loins as he visually caressed her face. Strong cheekbones framed her face, almost seemingly created by the finest sculptor, making for a perfect setting for her pert nose.
She lifted her determined jaw. "India."
"What an unusual name. Tell me, how did you come by it?"
"My parents named me after the country I was born in."
He shifted in his position. From the angle of her jaw to the curve of her cheek, she enticed him. He looked down again. She possessed a body he could see himself buried in all night. Gentle curves graced her form, from the gentle slope of her feminine shoulders to the indent of her waist. He could only imagine the treasures between those slender thighs -- his rod lengthened beneath his breeches. He shifted uneasily. "What's your last name?"
A cold chill passed up Rafe's spine, and he stiffened. That damned name! He ground his teeth in order to keep his emotions at bay. "Since I keep my promises, I will let you go, but not before I have shown you my hospitality as well as begged your forgiveness." He cast a glance to Grayson. "Take her to my cabin where she may wash in privacy."
Grayson tipped his fingers. "Aye, Cap'n." With that, Grayson guided India Rookwood from his sight to his cabin where she could clean up a bit.
Rafe smiled. What fortunate luck his enemy's daughter had fallen right into his hands, though he had not properly laid a trap for her, at least not yet. Rookwood would probably be worried sick. From what he knew of the evil bastard, he would stop at nothing to rescue his precious pawn. Well, Rookwood's search for his daughter would be useless. By the time Rafe did as he wished with her, the only good place for the girl would be a brothel or convent. After that, his revenge would be complete, and Ophelia's honor restored.
Rafe waited for Grayson to return then signaled his first mate over. The older man limped over and tipped his short, grubby fingers. "Tell the men to gather everything on board."
Grayson's gray eyebrows shot up. "We settin' sail so soon?"
"Yes. Be ready at eight bells."
Friday, June 10, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Raven knocked Jasmine into the water. Then the dog turned to face Amber, growling, grinning,
intimidating. Amber was scared, but she was also angry. Raven was gone. It was just her and the dog. And the damn dog was standing between her and her past, present, and future.
"Failure is not an option," she said under her breath, pumping herself up for the inevitable confrontation.
The dog cocked its head and the grin seemed to become more sardonic. He'd heard her. He disagreed. He lunged her way. Amber scrambled to dodge his advancement, but he quickly whirled back around to make another attempt. Amber couldn't evade him forever. And she knew instinctively that to turn her back on him and run would mean death. How could she make love to the man and still not affect the beast? They circled one another for what seemed like a very long time, but she knew it could only have been a few minutes.
Amber hadn't paid attention to what happened to Jasmine. She hadn't really wanted to know. But she was surprised when she heard her friend scream from the rocky shore. Jasmine distracted both of them, drew their attention away from one another.
It was something from a horror movie. Jasmine stood in the water, blood running down her face.
She'd hit her head on a rock. That must have been what had happened. It only took a moment for the dog to go after again. Jasmine fainted before he reached her. Amber tried to follow again. She was frustrated. Her leg was slowing her down to an impossibly insignificant speed. Anger, fear, impatience, love, and hatred boiled inside of her until she finally lost her head.
"Stop it!" she screamed.
The dog or Raven must have sensed something in her appeal. He turned back to her again, ears
perked, golden eyes narrowed.
"Enough. You've done enough," she said, trying desperately to appeal to the dog. "He killed you. He broke your trust. I'm sorry. But you've had your revenge. You killed me. I'm sure you've killed hundreds. That blood is on his hands. He blames himself. He'll never be the same. Let him go."
The dog seemed to consider her. He stared at her for a long while. He looked to Jasmine, then
back to Amber. He shook his head, as if to clear it. Maybe Raven was beginning to reclaim his place in his mind. But then he ran to the shore again, intent on finishing off Jasmine.But at that moment, a mouth that could easily encompass half of Amber's body rose from the water. Amber covered her eyes. She couldn't watch the two monsters fight over her friend. They would come for her next. There was growling, groaning, splashing, and yelping. She expected at any moment to be torn down by something. But she'd done her best. She'd tried, against impossible, paranormal odds.
She was sure she and Jasmine would die.
Check out the other Silver Flashers!
Julie Hayes (m/m)
Lindsay Klug (m/f)
Lily Sawyer (m/m)
Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
Sunday, June 5, 2011
What book that you've written so far is your favorite or the most meaningful? Why?
My favourite books tend to be the one I am working on at the time, but I am not sure if they count for this question or whether you mean published ones only. Out of my two published books the favourite is almost certainly Touch of a Ghost. Paranormal themes are amongst my favourites ever and my ghostly hero is my current favourite. Though if my merman story ever gets published then I suspect that one of my sexy mermen may be creeping up into the top spot.
Do you have a favorite place to write?
I write on my laptop so I can generally pick it up anywhere, but mostly I like to be in my living room in my favourite chair. There is a great view from the window and more than one plot bunny has appeared whilst I have been gazing out towards the distant horizon.
Where do you find inspiration?
I can find inspiration pretty much anywhere when I am in the right frame of mind – that is the distracted, drifting, and generally wool-gathering frame of mind.
Long periods of waiting around in some of my previous day jobs have resulted in many a fantasy that has become a plot for a story, although most of them are still unpublished and need some polishing before I even submit them anyway.
Most of my plots seem to come from “what if?” scenarios that play through my mind.
What if ghosts could take solid form on one night of the year?
What if you were banished from your world when the one you loved betrayed you?
What if the world of dreams was as real as any other and that was where you met your love?
What if you had a second chance by reliving your life?
What ifs tend to pop into my mind without warning. Some might be inspired by a television show, some might be inspired by a song or some lyrics.
But without exception the what ifs that infiltrate my mind take on a life of their own and become plots for stories that soon clutter up my hard drive until they can be fleshed out and completed.
Do your stories tend to have a recurring theme? If so, what is it?
I think the only really recurring theme in my stories is the happy ending which I cannot help but give my long-suffering heroes. Although I have read many books over the years where the endings are not so happy, some of which have reduced me to tears in fact, I cannot bear to deprive my characters of a happy ending. I might make them suffer and work for it, but my heroes are too dear to me for me to leave them still searching for their happy ending when I type The End.
Of course, this may change in the future and in the realms of fanfiction I have been known to write the occasional sad ending to a story or two… something which tends to come as a shock to those who have read a number of my other stories.
But for published stories, the happy ending is something that is recurring in my stories.
Blurb: Touch of a Ghost
Andy Jessop wants a life without ghosts. He doesn’t want to see, hear, or talk to them. Ignoring them should be relatively simple.
But Andy soon finds that Benji Richards, an eternally gorgeous ghost from the fifties, is not so easy to ignore.
Halloween night is approaching and both Andy and Benji know what it could mean for them. From sunset to sunrise, it is the one night of the year when a mortal can feel the touch of a ghost.
Excerpt: Touch of a Ghost
Six weeks of freedom from ghosts! Andy Jessop almost felt like writing it on the calendar to mark the occasion. If it weren't for the fact that his calendar was still packed up in one of the lingering boxes from his move, he might even have done so.
Smiling to himself as he placed his shopping bag on the counter, he switched on the television with the remote and prepared for a night in, watching the football match. Andy put away the groceries, and fifteen minutes later he seemed to be ready for a nice, normal night in front of the telly.
Food — check. Beer — check. Ghost — check.
Andy nearly swore out loud when his mind caught up with what his eyes had already seen. He stopped himself just in time.
He knew the building had been built during the Second World War, but he hadn't seen a ghost in his flat until now. He shouldn't have been surprised. The young man looked to have been in his early twenties when he died, maybe even younger. Judging by his clothes, Andy suspected that to have been some time in the fifties. The James Dean wannabe had clearly been lingering for a while.
Just ignore him, Andy silently ordered himself. This would be his first real test in his new home. The unwelcome spook had obviously settled down for a night in front of the television, and Andy knew he couldn't let on that he could see it.
Once a single ghost learned he could see it, word would get around, and his life of normality would be over faster than he could say ectoplasm.
Andy carried his bowl of potato crisps and a bottle of beer over to the coffee table and set them down. He made sure he didn't look directly at his uninvited guest and took a seat at the opposite end of the sofa.
"Looks like it's going to be a good match," the ghost said conversationally.
Andy knew he wasn't really talking to him, or at least he wasn't expecting him to answer. Ghosts seemed to talk a lot; it seemed to be something of a habit. They didn't expect mortals to hear them.
The match started, but Andy found his concentration impeded by his ghostly guest. His gaze kept drifting to the right, much as it had done back in school when he found himself in the presence of a boy he fancied.
He wondered for a brief moment what this ghost would think about his sexuality, and then chided himself silently for even caring. Just because he found the ghost attractive, he shouldn't start losing track of things that were more important than his non-existent love life. He wanted to keep his life as normal as possible, and if that meant keeping his libido under control, that was what he would do.
Andy was aware the ghost on his sofa had no way of knowing he could see and hear him as well as he could the television, and he had no intention of letting him know his audience could receive him loud and clear. Instead he chose to concentrate on the match.
On reflection, he believed the ghost's earlier comment about the game had been correct. The match looked to be one of the best of the season so far. By half time he realised his companion wasn't that bad company. They supported the same team, and under any other circumstances —if the ghost had been just another resident in the building— Andy suspected he would have invited him over anyway.
Despite his best intentions, Andy found himself starting to get a little curious about his ghostly guest. He didn't even know his name. From the sneaky looks out of the corner of his eye, he managed to get a good look at his handsome uninvited visitor. With dark hair, blue eyes and a strong jaw line, he certainly had the right features for the brooding look, but when he smiled, as he did each time their team scored, his face lit up, and Andy's breath caught in his throat.
If he hadn't been so busy drooling, Andy might have taken a moment to be worried about his reaction to the presence of the undeniably sexy spook.
Andy walked through to the kitchen to retrieve another beer from the fridge. He had just reached inside when he heard a second voice coming from the direction of the television.
"Benji, I've been looking all over for you," the older woman scolded.
Andy peered around the corner of the fridge, casually taking in the scene, while making it appear he couldn't tear his eyes away from the television.
Benji? Andy gave his guest another quick glance, contemplating whether he looked like a Benji or not. Then he stopped himself and shook his head in annoyance. This wasn't a good sign at all. A nameless ghost would be much easier to ignore than one he actually knew.
The woman —another ghost— stood right in front of the television set, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. She had the same dark hair as the other ghost and similar enough features that Andy immediately guessed they were related. Benji's next words confirmed that.
"Ma, you're in the way," Benji complained, waving her to one side.
"Isn't this old Foster's place?" Benji's mother commented as she stepped to the side and looked around the room. "Whatever has he done to it?"
Andy frowned. The place had been a bit of a dump when he'd moved in, and he'd spent a lot of time over the last few weeks making it into a place he felt comfortable in. It might not be the tidiest flat in the building, but he didn't see any call for the ghost's sneer.
If she hadn't been a ghost he would have told her all of this, but as it was, he didn't dare reveal that he'd heard her disparaging remark.
"Foster moved out," Benji told her. "Moved in with his daughter a couple of months ago. Andy Jessop's the new tenant. He's a photographer for the local rag."
Andy tried not to be surprised Benji knew so much about him. He knew ghosts, especially those with little to occupy their time, spent their days snooping into other people's business. He had figured that out a long time ago, when they started snooping into his.Andy took a swig of his beer and walked back over to the sofa. He sat down and immediately put his feet back up onto the table.
"Feet off the furniture!" His latest guest suddenly barked at him.
He reacted instantaneously, dropping his feet to the floor, just as he had done whenever his own mother had scolded him.
He heard the two ghosts gasp in astonishment, and he rose to his feet quickly, feigning he had forgotten something in the kitchen, even as he silently cursed himself for the slip.
"Just a coincidence," Benji said. "He can't see or hear us. He'd have said something earlier if he could."
Buy your copy today from Silver Publishing!
Friday, June 3, 2011
Elise is the beautiful bartender at Manny's, and Johnny is the mysterious and oh-so-sexy bouncer. They've been sleeping together for a month, but Elise is starting to want more. She wants to get to know Johnny, to find out who he really is. When a customer gets rowdy in the bar and then threatens her life later that night, she gets the opportunity to do just that. She discovers the secret Johnny's been trying to keep—he's a shape shifter, and he's been living his life on the run to avoid being recruited by the government for his talents. Elise got what she wanted, but it may mean the end of their affair instead of the beginning of a relationship.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Epic fail on my part for not posting this yesterday, but this is a super hot book from Destiny Blaine. Best of all, it's being offered at a 10% discount for the first week of its release! That's this week! So read the info below and grab your copy of Roping in Forever today!
Blurb: Roping in Forever
Corbin Cansey will love the daylights out of Bella McDermott. That is, just as soon as he gets around to it. Corbin has been running from Bella since she was a teenager, and he’s been looking the other way since she became old enough to win his heart.
The trouble is, Bella is tired of waiting. She follows Corbin to a San Antonio rodeo and watches as he indulges in a few sex-related activities. Green with envy, Bella realizes it’s time to teach Corbin a few valuable lessons about loving a woman.
Bella gives Corbin a good taste of what he’s been dishing up—a stout dose of jealousy. And even though her plan is destined to fail, her notions are guaranteed to make a man twitch in his Wranglers, assuming he can keep them pulled up where they belong.
Excerpt: Roping in Forever
Corbin knew he’d drawn a bad bull. He’d sort of had an uneasy feeling earlier that day when he’d first arrived at the fairgrounds, but after he’d held Bella in his arms, everything changed.
She gave him strength. She made him believe in himself and his abilities. If Corbin listened to some of the whispers around him, staying on Captain Crazy was next to impossible, but for some reason he felt like a man who was about to take the best ride of his life.
Tucking his gloved hands under the rope, Corbin realized all eyes were on him. Hell, half the fans were on their feet, acting like they were getting ready to watch a cowboy’s last rodeo. He hated it when these situations happened. Half the time, a bull’s reputation made a loser out of a cowboy. When the crowd seemed to stand behind the bull rather than the man riding him, well, it just seemed like the odds stacked up against a fella.
Corbin searched the stands, found the large letter A, and dropped his gaze down, looking straight across the arena into the brilliant-blue sparkling, and quite watered down, eyes of the woman he loved. He tilted his hat and slapped his chest.
Bella was his heart. The rodeo was his job.
"You’re good to go," Travis assured him, helping Corbin lower himself atop the angry bull that would either make or break him in this competition. "You got this, Corbin."
Corbin swung his gaze toward Bella, one last time. "You’re damn straight I got this." Smiling wide, he raised his right arm and his head and shoulders flew back. "Okay, fellas! Let’s see if this bull can give a good ride!"
Get your copy of Roping in Forever today from Siren Allure today! And be sure to keep yourself updated on Destiny Blaine's latest projects by following her Twitter, Website, and Facebook.