Heather Lin

Charity Cases

2012-02-04T23:29:00.004-05:00

Hey, all. I'm a little late in posting this (from my fiance's phone) but I have a blog up at the Beyond Romance blog today. All month long, Coming Together authors are posting about the organization and why it's important to them. I've had the privelage of being involved in 3 of Coming Together's projects, but I offered up an excerpt from my very first accepted story. Click the link below to check it out!

And, if you comment, you just might win a freebie story from me!

Get Westridge in PRINT for just $5.99!

2012-01-22T20:05:00.003-05:00

Check it out! :)

Silver Flash!: "Bad Dates and Doritos"

2011-12-14T09:01:00.003-05:00

Hey, all, and welcome to another wonderful Wednesday! This week's prompt was "That came out of nowhere." Enjoy!

"So you work in advertising?"

"I sure do." Ashley picked at her salad without taking a bite. She was one hour into her date, and so far she was unimpressed by the bored-looking man across from her. Alan's shoulders were slumped. Always. And his brown eyes darted around the dining room of the cheap restaurant as if he was never really focusing on her.

"My mom worked in advertising," he commented.

"Really."

"Yeah, she was the editor in chief of a big magazine."

For the first time, Ashley's interest was piqued. "Really? Which magazine?"

"Bird."

Ashley stared. "Bird?"

"Yeah, you must have heard of it."

"What kind of magazine is it?"

Alan looked at her as if she were crazy. Or stupid. But she preferred to go with crazy. "It's about birds. You said you were a bird enthusiast."

"I said I had a parakeet when I was nine."

"Oh." He glanced down at his soup, a disdainful expression wrinkling his nose.

Ashley shoved her lettuce aside, and her fork made a squeaking noise against the bowl. Alan looked up.

"What was that?"

Ashley opened her mouth to answer but then realized that she was about to throw away a golden opportunity.

"Oh, that was my phone. Sorry." She gave him an apologetic smile and pretended to look at a message. "Oh my gosh!"

"What is it?"

"My kid threw up! All over herself. My mother just texted me. She lives with us. She has to. She has dementia. But don't worry. I'd never leave her alone with my little girl. My brother lives with us, too. He's been doing really well since he started going to the A.A. meetings. Anyway, I guess I'd better go. I had a great time. I'm so sorry to leave like this."

"No, no. It's no problem. I'll call you."

"Great! Bye!"

Ashley was already half way out the door. Alan had picked her up at her apartment, but she had no problem with grabbing a taxi and getting far far away from his infuriatingly pompous attitude.

She stopped at a grocery store a few blocks away from her apartment. She needed milk, and her cat was low on food. It had all been a lie. A very unnecessarily elaborate lie.

Ashley lived alone with her cat in a tiny one bedroom apartment. Her advertising job paid well, but she just didn't need a lot of space. It just meant there would be more to clean.

Ashley was a woman on a mission. She was going to get in, get her things, and get out. But the way the store was organized forced her to walk right past the Doritos and Root Beer. She was a sucker for Doritos and Root Beer.

"Great product placement," she murmured, gazing at the prices and trying to decide if she wanted to blow the rest of the cash in her pocket.

But while she was pondering, she felt a pair of arms grab her and drag her sharply away from where she was standing. It happened so quickly. She didn't know how to react. Then she saw the cart slam into the spot where she'd been standing.

"Well. That came out of nowhere," a male voice said.

Ashley pulled away from her rescuer and straightened her skirt before turning to take a look at the man. She wasn't sure whether she should be angry or grateful. It had hardly been a life or death situation.

"Thanks," Ashley said, finally deciding on the simple and dismissive statement.

"No problem."

The man continued standing where he was, looking over the snack section as Ashley had been just moments before. Now she felt awkward. Should she keep standing there or should she just move along? She still kind of wanted Doritos. She glanced at the man again. He was very appealing: tall, strong build, dark brown hair, darker eyes. But weird. It was weird that he'd just grabbed her like that. She was going to just get her chips and go. But as she reached for the bag, so did the man, and their hands touched.

"You go ahead," Ashley said, pulling her hand away.

The guy grabbed a bag and grinned. "You're cute."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Ashley eyed him. He couldn't be any worse than Alan.

"Want to split the cost?" she offered.

"Of the Doritos?"

"You eat half and I'll eat half. Or I'll decide you're a creep and leave you with most of the bag. It's a win-win."

The man smiled. "We can sit on the bench outside."

"Cool."

They began to walk to the front of the store together.

"I'm Ashley, by the way."

"Steve."

They shook hands briefly, and Ashley felt a stirring, a tiny breeze of butterflies in her stomach. This could be something. Or it could be nothing. But either way, her night was going to be a lot more interesting than eating a whole bag of chips by herself and watching a movie with her cat.

And be sure to check out the other Silver Flashers!

LM Brown (m/m)
AJ Jarrett (m/m)
West Thornhill (m/m)
Pia Veleno (m/m)
Freddy MacKay (m/m)
Elyzabeth VaLey (m/f)
Julie Lynn Hayes (m/m)

Silver Flash!: "Getting Intimate"

2011-12-07T08:26:00.003-05:00

I'm back! ...after a horribly failed NaNoWriMo. I'm hoping to be a little more blog-active from now on, but my real life just keeps interfering with my fake life. It's hard to find inspiration for posts and stories when I'm also trying to find inspiration for centerpieces and wall paint.

In any case, I'm here this week with a tasty little morsel. The prompt I used was "eyes were closed as if in prayer." Enjoy!

"Yeah, Baby!"

"I'm gonna hit that!"

Jaqueline tuned out the screams. She was here to dance, and even though she was naked on stage, she was still here for her, for the music, for the money. The men who came were sleazy, to say the least, and she spent her weekend nights pretending they didn't exist. She had a goal--to get herself through college--and since she could make more in two nights doing this than she could doing anything else, she danced, and used her free nights to study.

She opened her eyes and glanced at the nearest booth. It always made her feel safer, knowing that the bouncers were right there, ready to jump in if any of the customers lost their minds. Jacqueline swayed in time to the beat of the club music. She was already down to her thong; the metal pole was cold against the warm skin of her back.

She kept her eyes on the bouncer. James was a new recruit--tall and strong in a way that was barely noticeable, that just simmered beneath the surface of his tan skin. He didn't smile often, but when he did...She bit her lip and touched her breast. He was toying with a glass of soda, watching the crowd. She turned and faced away from them, but she kept her eyes on James, giving everyone a great view of her ass, and wrapped her legs around the pole.

This was the part she liked--the freedom. The body heat surrounded her, warming her bare skin like a Caribbean sun. She rubbed the pole between her breasts, between her thighs, moaning as the smooth metal caressed her clit through her barely-there panties. No one could hear over the bass. Jacqueline leaned back and swung herself around, letting her long, fiery hair brush the stage beneath her. Then she snapped up again, her bright blue eyes locking on James once more.

To her surprise, his dark brown eyes were on her, as well.

They weren't supposed to stare. The bouncers were supposed to be focused on the crowd, as he'd been before, looking for drunks and wandering hands. But he wasn't straying. His muscles were tense; she was too obvious. He was soft-spoken and sexy, and now, naked and in a place oozing with deviance, she couldn't help herself.

Her nipples puckered; intense heat spread in her stomach and slowly trickled to her loins. She sighed and continued her dance, touching herself, fleetingly, pretending her own hands were his. She couldn't take her eyes off of James. His gaze was hungry, and he mouthed five words to her that took her breath away:

"I'm going to fuck you."

Jacqueline faltered in her movements but quickly recovered. Her legs were shaky. She leapt onto the pole again, higher this time, flexing her thighs and moving up and down, feeling the liquid rush that was very familiar but somehow brand new.

As she watched, James' left hand disappeared under the table. His face was an emotionless mask, but she noticed a small tick in his jaw. His left arm moved subtly, his right one remained on the table. To anyone else, he appeared innocent--just a calm spectator.

Jacqueline let out her breath in a rush and gyrated against the pole, still keeping time to the music. She wanted to keep going, she wanted to hump the pole until she burst, but the continuous movements would become too suspicious.

She swung off again and, this time, used her frustration to her advantage. She threw herself onto her knees and crawled towards the crowd, giving James every view, shaking her bare breasts and bumping her ass up and down just for him.

But her body was begging her to continue what she’d started. She glanced behind her, to see how James was reacting. His arm moved more quickly, his visible hand was a tight fist as he tried to keep control.

Jacqueline was wet. The men in the front row noticed, and a few hooted and hollered and threw out twenties. She paid them no mind. Instead, she crawled back over to the pole, faced it, and pulled herself up. Slowly, erotically, she slid her body up the cool metal, starting at her chest and ending at her abdomen, almost giving her body what it wanted.

She finally gave in, letting her pelvis make contact. Then she leaned back, slowly, melting to the ground until her back was on the floor of the stage and her thighs gripped the pole tightly. This was it. This was all the sensuality her breathless, glistening body could handle.

She turned her head and set her sights on James one last time. His eyes were closed as if in prayer. His lips were slightly parted. He was nearing his ecstasy, and Jacqueline wanted to go with him. She rolled her hips eagerly, rubbing her clit at an almost impossible speed against the sturdy pole, until, finally, her world exploded in a rush of bright lights and bass.

Jacqueline had good timing. The music ended. Her dance was over. Singles rained down on her heaving body, but she only had eyes for James. His head was tipped back now, his body shuddered. He'd reached the end of his control as well.

When his eyes opened and met hers, she licked her lips seductively, and he smiled that smile that had turned her on so much in the first place.

This wouldn't be a bad semester at all.

As always, be sure to check out my fellow flashers!

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
West Thornhill (m/m)
Lily Sawyer (m/m)
AJ Jarrett (m/m)
Sui Lynn (m/m)
Julie Lynn Hayes (m/m)

My very first ebook at a very special price!

2011-11-16T11:19:00.002-05:00

My very first ebook, Scandal, is now just $.99 at New Concepts Publishing! If you've been wanting to try a taste of my spicier work, now's the time. Check it out! :)

Silver Flash!: "Coffee and Monsters"

2011-10-26T08:44:00.003-04:00

Happy (early) Halloween, everyone! This week's flash is a paranormal piece, using one of my prompts for the week: "That boy is a monster." If you're thinking Lady GaGa is the inspiration there....you're right. :) Enjoy!

Coffee and Monsters

"That boy is a monster. He's no good for you."

Tabatha's mother had her hands on her hips in the doorway of the kitchen. Her lips were pursed. The gray-haired lady was determined.

"You don't know him." Tabatha rolled her eyes, feeling very much like a teenager despite her twenty-five years. Her mother had that effect on her.

"I know what he did. And if God judges a man on his actions, I sure don't see a problem with doing the same."

"He was seventeen." Tabatha reached a hand into the cookie jar on the counter and began munching, fully intending to ignore every word her mother said. "It was graffiti--not murder."

"Who's to say it wasn't? You know who uses graffiti? Gangs. Gangs use graffiti. And gangs do all sorts of horrible things."

"He's not in a gang, Mom. He's an accountant."

"Well, just don't say I didn't warn you. I got involved with a boy like that, you know. When I was sixteen. I'd never had liquor before in my life. You'll be painting the town hall or defiling the school walls in no time."

"If I were sixteen, I probably would. But I'm twenty-five."

"People like that never change."

"Bye, Mom." Tabatha gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek and stuffed another cookie into her mouth.

The visit was over. It had been a lovely 15 minutes that Tabatha had no desire to repeat more than once a week.

But for once, the blond's overprotective mother had hit the nail on the head. Jermaine was a monster. The best kind. The kind that was eternally beautiful and never died.

Tabatha drove to a coffee shop twenty minutes away. She was meeting Jermaine at 6:00pm. It was their third date. As long as he wore sunglasses, the sunlight didn't affect him. He said he thought it was probably because he was supposed to be underground and his eyes knew it; they could never adjust.

The tall, dark-skinned man sat down beside her in the booth and slipped off his shades. The lighting was dim. He kissed her deeply on the lips and smiled at her with perfect white teeth.

"What are you having?" he asked.

"A peppermint mocha."

"Good choice."

A waitress approached, and Jermaine ordered for both of them. He took charge. He was beautiful. Tabatha adored him. She wasn't sure how long the feeling would last, if the flame would burn out quickly, but she was enjoying it while she could.

"A peppermint mocha and a black coffee," his deep voice rumbled.

"Coming right up." The waitress smiled and walked away.

"Come here for a minute," Jermaine whispered to Tabatha. "I want to tell you something."

She slid closer. He rested his hand on her thigh. Her body repsonded immediately. Her blood heated in her veins, her skin tingled. Jermaine let out a low growl. She knew he could sense her rise in temperature; he was always aware of her blood. His fingers slipped under her short skirt, resting on her clit through her silk panties.

"Do you think you can come before the waitress gets back?"

"I'm willing to try," she murmured.

His fingers began moving in slow circles, warming her up, making her wet until all she could feel was pleasure and anticipation.

"You're so good to me, but you never let me touch you," she moaned softly, careful not to draw attention to herself.

"Feeling the blood beneath your skin is all the pleasure I need. My blood's stopped. I couldn't do anything if I tried."

"Good point." Tabatha bucked against his hand as he pressed down harder, began to move faster.

She was getting close already. His fingers were like magic. She could barely stand it.

"I can see her. She's almost done pouring my coffee."

Tabatha bit her lip. It felt so good, she was so close. He pinched her clit quickly between his fingers and rubbed her again. That was all it took. Tabatha gripped the edge of table and shook as she came. But she stayed quiet, and the waitress gave them their drinks with that same smile, oblivious to what had happened under her table.

They each took a slow sip of smooth caffeine as Tabatha basked in her afterglow. Then Jermaine put his mug down and turned to her.

"There is one thing you can do for me," he told her in a low voice.

"What's that?"

"Let me kiss your neck." Tabatha withdrew slightly. She'd never let him near her neck. He always said it was too much temptation. "Don't worry. I can control myself."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Feeling how alive you are is the only pleasure I can have."

Tabatha's gaze softened, and she pulled her hair back, giving him access to the pulse point beneath her ear. She trusted him. He kissed her neck tenderly. Tabatha closed her eyes, enjoying the new sensation. His lips were soft against her skin. He smelled amazing.

Then she felt it--the sudden flash of pain, then warmth.

Huh. He'd bitten her. He was draining her. And she could tell he had no intention of stopping any time soon.

She couldn't fight him. She felt paralyzed. All she could do was think, and that was getting harder with each passing moment.

Damn her mother. She'd been right about him after all.

As always, be sure to see what treats (or tricks) the other flashers have in store!

Sui Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

West Thornhill (m/m)
http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

LM Brown (m/m)
http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/

Freddy MacKay (m/m)
http://freddymackay.blogspot.com/

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

Happy Spirit Day!

2011-10-20T20:58:00.002-04:00

In honor of Spirit Day tomorrow, wear some purple and watch some RENT! :)

Silver Flash!: "Like Poison: Pt. 1?"

2011-10-12T08:40:00.007-04:00

Hey, all! It's been a while. Blame the writer's block. Which I, personally, blame on the stress of trying to buy a house/planning a wedding. If only it were as easy as it seems in the novels... ;) Well, I took this week's prompt ("...got a problem with personal space...") as an opportunity to do a bit of free writing, so I honestly don't know if this is going anywhere, but I hope you enjoy it!

Eugenia lay on her mother's grave, wearing a white dress, her red hair pooled around her fair face. Her feet were bare. But the image wasn't as romantic as she'd thought it might be from watching sad movies and reading Edgar Allan Poe. The dirt was fresh and the damp grains clung to her skin and dress. It was a morbid picture for a morbid time.

The Rapture had come and gone a week ago, in the middle of the night. At least it had been the middle of the night in America; in China babies' souls had been snatched away in broad daylight. But there were no empty shoes, no free-flying people. There were only bodies. Millions. Empty.

Eugenia's mother had finally been buried last night. Morning was beginning to peek over the treetops around the graveyard. She was alone. But she figured it probably wouldn't be for long.

The supernaturals had seen this as their time to shine, and vamps and weres roamed the streets unabashedly. They'd already taken most of those who weren't claimed by God. Vampires had some locked away for farming, worried about "natural resources." The werewolves couldn't contain themselves in order to conserve anything. But they were only monsters once a month. The vamps came out every night. Every afternoon. Every morning.

Why Eugenia hadn't been snatched up, she didn't know.

But they always came around at dawn. To watch her. She suspected they had since she was young. But they never bit. They never tried. Eugenia lifted her head and gazed at the tree line. She could see them. Did they think she was stupid? She sat up and stared back at them. Why didn't they just take her? Why didn't one of them just come and put her out of her misery?

She was alone. Utterly alone. With just those eyes staring at her. Then one finally did approach. He was a tall one, impossibly attractive, with dark brown eyes and straight, jet black hair. But they were all impossibly attractive. The better to lure you in with, my dear.

Eugenia didn't move. She hadn't eaten in days. What did she care if she was drained? If they released her soul the way God had refused?

The vamp circled her, studying her. Eugenia's skin prickled. He said nothing. That drove Eugenia even more crazy than the impending death.

"You've got a problem with personal space, haven't you?" she spoke finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

The man grinned. "You're a strange one."

"I'm strange?"

"I've been watching you."

"I know."

"I bit you there. When you were young."

Eugenia hadn't been expecting that. "What?"

The man squatted down, a devilish grin on his lips. He reached out, moved her flaming hair. She let him.

"I bit you. Just there."

His fingertips brushed the twin marks on her neck that her mother had said were from chicken pocks. Eugenia's stomach dropped.

"You didn't drain me."

"I couldn't."

"I don't understand."

"Your blood is like poison."

"Poison?"

His mouth curled up further. "It's disgusting."

"Good."

"There's nothing left of the life you know. Come with me."

"No."

"Your mother is dead."

"I'm not."

"Not yet."

Eugenia was tired. She was tired of fighting and tired of this strange, week-old world. So when the man offered her his hand, she accepted. Maybe she would die. Maybe she wouldn't. But her only other option was lying here until she starved to death. She couldn't bring herself to move on her own. The man placed a hand on her waist and guided her away from the unmarked grave.

"I fear a darkness plagues you that is worse than ours."

Eugenia stared back over her shoulder at what she was leaving behind.

"I think the plague has come and gone."

And be sure to check out the other flashers!

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

West Thornhill (m/m)
http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

L. M. Brown (m/m)
http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Freddy MacKay (m/m)
http://freddymackay.blogspot.com/

Pender Mackie (m/m)
http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/

Sui Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/?zx=57a5d3d27a15dbfa

Elyzabeth M. VaLey (m/f)
http://inadreambeyond.blogspot.com/

Guest Blogger: Heather Thurmeier

2011-09-27T09:32:00.004-04:00

Hello, everyone! I've got Heather Thurmeier with me today, and she's sharing a bit about her writing process. Read, enjoy, and be sure to check out her latest release, Love and Lattes at Silver Publishing or Amazon.com!

Writing in the Right Space

Every writer has a spot they call their office. For some, I bet they even have an actual office. LOL! I can’t say I’m one of those people. I wish!

Or do I?

My writing space consists for the most part of my couch. Yep. Not glamorous. Not fancy. Definitely not conducive to long-term use. But it’s all I have for now. We don’t have the space in our current home to have the office I truly want, so I make due with what I have. And quite honestly, my current set up works for me.

The way my life is scheduled right now, I do some of my writing while my kids are at school and the rest when they’re home and otherwise occupied by playing, sleeping and watching movies. So being able to plunk my butt on the couch at any given time and grab my laptop so I can write a few lines just seems to work for me. Sometimes, I even get wild and crazy and move to the kitchen table. Ohhh, mixing it up…

Now if I could have any writing space I wanted, it wouldn’t be my couch or my kitchen table. It would be one of those beautiful octagon shaped sunrooms with windows on a bunch of sides. And those windows would look out to somewhere stunning—a lake, some mountains, a desert with lots of cool cactuses…OMG, a beach! Basically I’d be happy with any view that is an actual view. I don’t want to see a bunch of concrete or someone else’s garbage on the curb for pickup.

In my office, I’d have a little desk, a comfortable chair with good back support, an oversized chair for times when I just want to read and a little couch. Oh, and a keurig coffee machine since I can live without my coffee. And a treat machine that dispenses a variety of yummy snacks throughout the day. And…

What’s your idea of the perfect writing space?

Thank you, Heather, for having me here today!

Happy Reading!

Heather Thurmeier
~Heart, humor and a happily ever after

Blurb: Love and Lattes

Chase Bloom wants the one thing his wealth can't buy--a woman who loves him for who he really is and not just his money. Not only is Julia Walker beautiful, funny, and so incredibly sexy, she's also the first girl who doesn't seem to know who Chase is. Finally, after two years of playing the field Chase gets a chance to date a girl who's interested in him, not his status. As Julia waits at the bar in one of the local clubs, she wonders how much more cleavage she'll have to show to be granted a drink by a bartender with blinders on. Just when she thinks she's bound to die of thirst, the man of her dreams steps up to the bar and into her heart with a frosty Cosmo. Their casual encounter at the bar quickly escalates into an intimate encounter in the bedroom.

When Julia runs into Chase on her first day of work she's excited to finally see him again—until she learns he's her new boss. Now Julia must stop fantasizing about him even though her mind is constantly remembering his hands on her body, his lips on her eager flesh. But her fantasies fizzle when both Julia's first customer and her new manager threaten her to stay away from the boss. Chase is a player and Julia is his new toy. Should Julia heed the threats about Chase or is a chance to fall in love worth the risk?

LOVE AND LATTES is available now!
http://heatherthurmeier.com/
heatherthurmeier@gmail.com
Facebook: Heather Thurmeier, author
Twitter: @hthurmeier

Guest Blogger: Nicki J Markus

2011-09-17T23:09:00.006-04:00

Hey, folks! I've got Nicki J. Markus with me today, discussing the perks of the ebook market. Check it out!

When there are just too many books!

With the boom of e-publishing, the number of books out there has increased dramatically. There were already a lot to begin with, but now there is even more choice. With so many options, how does a reader decide what to try and what to leave?

I go by word of mouth a lot. If I am talking to a friend (online or in real life) and they mention a good book, I’ll be sure to at least look into it. Other times an eye-catching cover will draw my attention. Yes, I know one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but sometimes they are so pretty.... If the cover captures my interest, I’ll read the blurb. I rarely buy straight away (not least as I know I’ll get it cheaper online), but I jot down the name and will look it up further, read reviews etc

Since joining Blogger earlier this year, I have found yet another source for reviews and recommendations. I’ve already picked up a few books that way, including winning some in blog give-aways – books I might not have come across otherwise but have ended up enjoying. Don’t even start me on NetGalley and the shiny books that I just can’t seem to resist! Yes, thanks to blogging my ‘tbr’ list now sits permanently around 20-30, whereas I used to only have 1 or 2 waiting at a time.

I think e-publishing is a huge help to readers in many ways. With big name, popular authors, I still buy paperback as the prices for paperback and e-book are usually pretty similar, but e-books have become a great way for me to try new and upcoming authors. These books are usually pretty cheap and you can try the author’s work without committing to the expense of a paperback. I rarely bought a paperback book by a new author before unless I had been given a particular recommendation, but now I feel that I can explore and sample things a bit more.

A case in point would be the Regency Draculia novels by Colleen Gleason that I was lucky enough to review via NetGalley. I had not heard of the author and might not have bought these off the shelf, but getting to read them as e-books, I was able to discover a great new author. I liked these books so much that I do plan to get them in paperback now and I will look at some of the author’s other releases too.

Of course, there are still too many books out there to ever read them all, but now there are plenty of great ways to try as many as possible!

What do you think? Have your reading habits been changed at all by the e-book revolution?

Nicki J Markus was born in England in 1982, but now lives in Adelaide, South Australia with her fiancé. She has loved both reading and writing from a young age and is also a keen linguist. She launched her writing career in 2010 and has so far had manuscripts accepted for e-book publication by both Wicked Nights Publishing and Silver Publishing. To find out more about her and her writing, visit her website/blog: http://www.nickijmarkus.com/

Also, be sure to check out Nicki's latest release, Day-Walker! It's got one sexy cover, am I right?

https://spsilverpublishing.com/product_book_info/coming-soon-c-2/day-walker-p-615

Guest Blogger: Xavier Axelson

2011-09-11T09:18:00.005-04:00

Hello, everyone!

First off: God bless America!

Second off: Please welcome author of The Incident, Xavier Axelson, to my blog today. He's here to discuss his inspiration for the story, which involves a certain underage drinking experience I'm sure most people can relate to. ;)

The Incident and the Echo
By Xavier Axelson

Since my latest novella “The Incident” was released last month, I have done a series of interviews. I’ve been asked more than once what inspired The Incident. As a part-time reporter and interviewer, I’ve learned that there is often a story beyond the surface answer that someone gives in an interview. I began to wonder what the answer behind the answer was. After answering the question a few times, I found myself rethinking what it was that inspired the story of a small town cop who is facing a dreary future unless he can find the strength to forgive himself and thus, make room in his life for love.

It was while on a walk that I began to mull the question over in my head and realized that the answer was an echo from the past. While I wrote the story of Michael Carmac and his partner, Bertram Angel, I found that it wasn’t just a story about them, but a story about a town and the way that town responds to their police force. I grew up in a very small town on the east coast. The police were almost like mythical entities that attached themselves to events and became part of the mythology of the town. I don’t know how many times growing up that I would hear, “which cop showed up? Oh it was Carmac and Angel?” or, “Then Angel showed up and shut the party down,” and, “Hey, you hear that Carmac shot that kid?” (Obviously, I am using my characters to illustrate a point.) But you get the idea. We interacted with the officers as if they were part of the family. We all knew Angel, Carmac, Fitzgerald and the rest and even addressed them by their last names to their faces.

In The Incident, Michael confronts his frustration about the public calling officers by their last names; he hates it, while Angel finds it’s welcoming. I don’t know how the cops in my town felt about being called by their last names but I do know that I never felt uncomfortable around the police station. The cops knew everyone in town and we knew them. It was not uncommon to have the cops show up at a family party and hang out. We had big parties. There was even a priest who drove around in a cop car and used to scare the shit out of people by turning on the sirens, I’ll have to ask my mother why he was allowed to do this, I’m sure there was a good reason. There is always a good reason in a small town for such behavior.

I remember an “incident” where I was at a friend’s house and there was a party going on, we were all drinking and way under age. This person’s mother was there, (we all called her Ma) and she drank with us. Well, the cops were called. Everyone scattered after hearing incoherent shouts of, “shit, its Angel and Carmac!” Not, “shit, it’s the cops!” I remember diving into the bottom bunk of my friends bunk beds with some girl while people stood in front of the bed, why I thought I wouldn’t be found there I had no idea. My parents of course, thought I was somewhere else and had no idea I was drunk at this party. I think I may have been 14 and that’s being generous. The cops made everyone leave which included the crowd standing in front of the bed. I will never forget the cop leaning down and looking right at me and saying, “that you Axelson? Get the hell outta that bed!”

Boy did I! The next thing I remember was jumping into the back of a girl’s older boyfriend’s car (a girl I hated) and being dropped off at my house. Nothing sobers you up like a run in with the cops, especially in a small town where news travels faster than light.

Did my parents already know? The lights were all on in the house. Do I just walk in like nothing happened?

I told my parents an abridged version and I just remember them looking at me like they didn’t believe a word I said. My father was pretty well known in town because of his business so I assumed he would hear the truth from the cops eventually. Or not. I never really knew what or of they knew. The point is these were the stories that inspired me to write the incident. These echoes from the past; memories of the officers who summoned fear, admiration and even a cool friendly vibe with just the mention of their last names.

Having a brother as not a small town cop but as a city beat cop (in one of the most dangerous cities on the east coast), I am painfully and vibrantly aware of what it means to be a cop. He takes his life in his hands everyday. After he was involved in a car accident where a drunk driver got on the freeway going the wrong way and he had to save the people who the drunk hit, while being injured himself, I realized just how amazingly brave he is. How brave anyone is who decides to try to protect the streets. When I told him, I was writing a cop romance he immediately started giving me ideas about a cop who falls in love with his female partner and when I stopped him and said, “its two men,” he just said, “well, it can still work whatever!” I knew he would have to get the dedication. If I could I would add, “to all the officers I knew before; small town and big, this ones for you.”

Listen to the echoes inside your cave. You never know what you’ll hear and what will inspire you.

Speaking of echoes isn’t that what Twitter is all about? Find me there and on Facebook or my website at http://www.xavieraxelson.com/ To find out about upcoming releases and who I’ll be interviewing over at my column at examiner.com

Blurb: The Incident

Officer Michael Carmac is a small town cop whose life is turned upside down by a horrific incident that neither he, nor the community he serves can forget. While Michael’s long-time friend and partner officer Bertram Angel offers support and friendly companionship during Carmac’s ordeal, Michael soon finds his feelings for Angel turning from friendship to something more. As Michael’s thoughts of guilt and personal responsibility over the incident intensify so do his emotions for Angel and the realization that love may be the only way to heal his wounded heart.

Excerpt: The Incident

Michael leaned towards Angel, the cold pie plate the only thing between them. Michael's heart was pounding and he could feel Angel’s breath soft on his face.

“No, it’s like right by your mouth, on the right,” Michael said.

Somewhere a night bird called out and the only reply was the incessant symphony coming from the bugs in the trees, but Michael didn’t hear anything except his own tormented thoughts clashing against his physical desires. Sweat had begun to run down his back and he shivered as he felt his spine twitch with excitement.

“Did I get it?” Angel asked, making another swipe at his face.

Michael leaned in, his hands shaking, the pie plate feeling slippery in his other hand. “Here,” he said as he pressed a shaking finger against Angel’s cheek. “Right here,” the last word was more a pant as he wiped the offending chocolate from Angel’s face.

Michael thought he saw something in Angel’s eyes when he touched him but he wasn’t sure. Although he wanted Angel more than words, he was terrified that what he thought he saw wasn’t real.

“Mikey,” Angel breathed, coming closer. He put a hand on Michael’s arm and pulled him close.

“Do it, whatever you’re thinking, do it.”

“I can’t,” Michael whispered.

Angel leaned so close that their lips were just about touching. “I’ll make it easy on you.” Angel ran his tongue over Michael’s lips. “Just do it.”

Michael felt the world beginning to slide sideways, and somewhere he heard the sound of something breaking.

Was this real?

His mind screamed for him to stop, to pull away, but Angel’s smell, his breath so close was making it hard to move, to breathe, to think. Before he could answer his raging thoughts, he found himself kissing Angel.

Buy Link:
http://www.seventhwindow.com/index.php?main_page=product_music_info&cPath=&products_id=37
https://spsilverpublishing.com/index/book_authors_id/70/typefilter/book_authors

Silver Flash!: "Bubble Bath"

2011-09-07T00:51:00.003-04:00

This week's prompt was to use the words candle, speaker, and star. This is what I came up with! Enjoy. :)

Jenna turned off the steaming water and pressed play on her CD player. Adele's strong, soothing voice rang from the speakers. Jenna slipped the terry bathrobe off of her slender shoulders, lit a lavender-scented candle, and settled into a relaxing bubble bath. Her thick read hair was piled high on her head, the bubbles foamed on top of the water, hiding her naked body from view.

She needed this time to herself. Her husband was putting the kids to bed, giving her a chance to relax and soak her aching feet. James was a good man. And he was still just as good-looking as he'd been in high school.

Jenna bit her lip and smiled, feeling chills crawl up her spine just thinking about him. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the water. He was a teacher. She ran a successful online shop through Etsy. Their life was simple, but it was sure worth living.

Every day Jenna got to see him with the sleeves of his button-down shirt rolled up past his elbows, his tie loose, his dark brown hair a mess. She loved him like that. She loved getting to see parts of him that no one else did. Dark hair sprinkled over his broad chest, a tiny star was tattooed between his shoulder blades, for a niece that had never been born. His legs were thick, and so was his....

"Mm," Jenna let her fingertips land between her thighs, brushing against the nub of her clit.
She sighed happily. Yes, this was exactly what she needed.

She began rubbing her fingers against her clit, beneath the water, gently at first. It felt good. It had been a while for her, a while since she'd found the time to feel desire.

As if her husband were psychic, the lock on the bathroom door clicked open, and he entered the small room. He couldn't see what her hand was doing beneath the foamy water, but his gaze flitted to her breasts and pussy, anyway. He was a man, after all, and she was naked in the water.

"Hey, James."

He grinned, that dimple she was so familiar with settling on his right cheek. He sat next to the bathtub and reached his hand into the water. His fingers found hers, discovered their motions. His eyes darkened, his smile became wicked. He replaced her fingers with his, and, quietly, deliciously, he brought her to orgasm.

"Your turn," Jenna said breathlessly.

James already had it out, stroking his erection as he watched her. Jenna leaned over the side of the tub to take him in her mouth. She sucked him and licked him, and when he came, she swallowed every drop.

"Thanks for tonight, babe," she murmured, easing back into the bath tub.

"Anytime."

Check out the other Silver Flashers!

West Thornhill (m/m)
http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

Chris Quinton (m/m)
http://chrisquinton.com

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com

Victoria Blisse (m/f)
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

Freddy MacKay (m/m)
http://freddymackay.blogspot.com

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Elyzabeth M. VaLey (m/f) <<>>
http://inadreambeyond.blogspot.com/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/

Pender Mackie (m/m)
http://pendermackie.blogspot.com

Guest Blogger: Ryssa Edwards

2011-09-04T19:24:00.009-04:00

Hey, everyone, and thanks for joining me on this lovely Sunday evening. Today I have fellow Silver Publishing author, Ryssa Edwards. She's got a lot of hot books for you, a contest, and some advice for you aspiring writers. Check it out! ;)

First, tell us a little about you and what you do.

By night, I meet interesting people, and all but bribe them to tell me their life story and let me follow them around. I call these people “characters”, and I write down their stories. They get into some pretty scary situations. It keeps me off the streets and (mostly) out of trouble.

What do you like to read?

Books. Kidding. I like reading stories. If you can tell a good story, I’ll read it. Right now, I’m on a short story kick, so I’ve been hanging around with folks like Ambrose Bierce, Stephen King, Ian Fleming and H. P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard. Can I just say this: Conan rocks!

What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

I know it sounds cliché, but the best advice I can give is . . .write!

Write all the time. Even if you don’t’ have a pen in your hand. If you something makes you stop and go, “Wow. That’s interesting.” Ask yourself why? What caught your attention? How would get someone else to see it the way you did? Over time, these little observations will make it into your characters and your worlds.

Buy a notebook. Take it everywhere. Ladies, get a purse-size notebook. Guys. . . I don’t know what to tell you. Got ten extra minutes in your day? Then you’ve got time to write daily. Pick a good exercise book. One of my favorites is A Writer’s Book of Days by Judy Reeves.

And my last bit of advice . . . don’t stop. You know those times when your internal editor is all over you? Keep writing. That voice never goes away, but if you keep going, one day you’ll get to prove it wrong.

What are your latest / upcoming releases?

I’m so glad you asked!

Hunter Angel, Midnight Gamble, part 3 of my Immortal Pleasures series is coming on September 24th. Azriel is a Hunter angel. His status is Unforgiven. In the mortal realm, he is a relentless Hunter who rids the world of angelic beings who have broken their vows.

Until he met Zane, Azriel's life was a long eternity without hope. But, now that he's met Zane, he wants more, he wants to have something he never thought he'd have: love.

But for an Unforgiven Hunter, there's only one way to have a mate: he must earn his way out of his Unforgiven status. Azriel's instincts lead him to a battle that will be the ultimate midnight gamble, winner takes all. But will he win? Or will he lose Zane forever?

And for this weekend only, readers can stop by my blog for a chance to win a signed copy of Immortal Pleasures, Volume I, parts 1 & 2 of the series.

Dreaming of a Kiss is a novel about Rafe, a college freshman who sets out to find a cure for his mother, and ends up falling in love with Kayne, a Wulf in training to be Alpha Wulf. This book is coming soon from Decadent Publishing.

Johnny V and the Razor is a short story coming soon from Dreamspinner Press. Johnny V is a driver for Mr. Donnelly, a bootlegger who got too greedy. Sloane, “the Razor”, is the muscle in his brother Nick’s bootlegging operation. When Sloane gives Mr. his final payoff, Johnny is a witness. When Johnny V and the Razor get together, it’s a hard ride through rough places.

The Moon House is a short story that’s part of the First Time for Everything Dreamspinner Press Daily Dose anthology. The Moon House is the story of Samson, a carnival strong man who falls for Jace, a virgin.

Readers can enjoy a free read today! Stop by the Male / Male Romance Discussion Group on Good Reads. “Spinner” is part of the Hot Summer Days “Dear Author” letters.

Where can we find you on the web?

Facebook: http://facebook.com/RyssaEdwards
My Blog: http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/

Thanks for having me, Heather!

Great review for Westridge!

2011-08-28T20:04:00.004-04:00

Hey, all! I'm very excited about my 4 star review from Sizzling Hot Book Reviews. Check it out!

Guest Blogger: Augusta Li

2011-08-22T08:15:00.004-04:00

I have fellow Silver Publshing author Augusta Li here with me today! She's got two releases to celebrate and that, of course, means two very lovely excerpts.

What is the best dirty joke you've ever heard?

A little penguin is driving across the desert when his car breaks down. Fortunately, a mechanic happens by a few minutes later and tows the car back to a small town. He tells the penguin to come back in half an hour, after he’s had a chance to look at the car.

The poor little penguin is burning up in the desert heat, and he wonders where to spend the half hour. Then he sees the perfect place: an ice cream parlor. He goes inside and orders a huge dish of vanilla ice cream. He’s so delighted to get to cool off that he scoops the ice cream up with his flippers, splashing it all over his face and chest. Before long it’s time for the penguin to return to the garage.

The mechanic is bent over the engine when the penguin arrives. He takes one look at the penguin and says, “Man, it looks like you blew a seal.”

To which the penguin quickly replies, “You’ve got it all wrong! This is just ice cream!”

What book that you've written so far is your favorite or the most meaningful? Why?

Honestly it’s whichever one I’m working on at the time. I get very obsessed with my characters and they stay in my head even when I’m not working. All of my books involve a great deal of internal and external conflict for the characters, even the lighter ones. My characters tend to be flawed, in some cases profoundly so, and I always find meaning in watching them overcome their struggles and find happiness in spite of their scars and shortcomings.

Do your stories tend to have a recurring theme? If so, what is it?

I suppose it’s rebellion and the rejection of traditional values. It’s the courage to find one’s own way in the face of adversity. If there’s anything like a theme in my work, it’s that the mold cast by society can be very oppressive and doesn’t fit everyone. My characters are often the people who have the nerve to say no to what others expect of them. They often exist on the fringes and are thieves, renegades, assassins, and just people who play by their own rules.

Food is a recurring theme in my books. I suppose its just another earthly pleasure to enjoy. Swords and sword culture pop up a fair bit.

Were your stories secret projects or were you able to be open with your family and friends about your writing?

I’ve never for a second tried to hide what I do. I’m proud of my work, and as far as I’m concerned if somebody has a problem with it I don’t need them. That being said, I’m a horrible perfectionist and NOBODY, other than my writing partner Eon de Beaumont, gets to see anything until at least the third draft or so. So I guess I’m not secretive about content, but I am very picky about quality.

I am fortunate enough to have two novels released this month! The first is Epiphany, available from Silver Publishing here: https://spsilverpublishing.com/

Blurb: Epiphany

1974. When the residents of the backwater town of Epiphany, Nevada, drive off a hurt and hungry young man because he has long hair, timid diner cook Elijah Tupper can't find the courage to stand up to them. Later, both guilt and strong attraction compel Elijah to seek out the drifter who calls himself only Dust. He finds him camped in the Mojave, and Dust and Elijah agree to travel together, though Elijah can't possibly imagine the task that awaits them.

Dust's painful past has left him mistrustful of people and the world. He also possesses mysterious powers, though hunger and injury have left him weak. Elijah vows to aid and protect him, even if Dust can't believe that Elijah has no ulterior motives. A fragile trust slowly forms between them, despite Dust's cynicism and Elijah's insecurity. As they seek to recover the magic that will save Dust from the forces trying to destroy him, they must enlist the aid of the county sheriff who originally banished Dust from Epiphany.

Though Sheriff Sam Woodward doesn't approve of Dust or his blossoming relationship with Elijah, he agrees to help the young men to protect his town from Dust's enchantments. In order for the three men to succeed and survive their dangerous, magical journey, each of them must adapt and grow. They'll need all of their skills to survive the corrupt city of Las Vegas and the twisted, supernatural realms beyond.

Excerpt: Epiphany

The whole frigid, lonely time he'd spent walking from Epiphany, Elijah had imagined various scenarios. He’d pictured Dust hugging him with gratitude and inviting him to be his companion. He’d anticipated being greeted with happiness and surprise by the other man. Until now, it hadn't crossed Elijah's mind that Dust might not want to see him. After all, Elijah hadn't defended Dust when the townspeople drove him away hungry. Elijah had been too scared of his mother and the sheriff to speak up. What if Dust thought he was a coward? Elijah felt queasy. He was sure, now, that he'd misinterpreted the look Dust had given him and the way he'd stroked Elijah's hand. Nobody like Dust would be interested in somebody like him: an insignificant person from an insignificant place. Elijah had been fooling himself.

As much as he wanted to turn back and save himself the hurt and humiliation, Elijah kept walking. The least he could do would be to leave the coffee and sandwiches. Dust would certainly appreciate the blanket. Elijah would set them down, apologize for what had happened at the diner, and start the long trek back home. Hopefully, he'd be able to sneak in the back door and through the mud room without his mother catching him, grilling him, and eventually pummeling him with whatever was closest to her hand. Whatever unpleasant thing befell him, he would accept as penance for not speaking up against what had been done to Dust.

The drifter sat in front of his tiny fire, hugging his knees. His dark hood covered everything but his nose, lips and chin. His frozen breath hovered in the stillness like a ghostly companion. Elijah took a deep breath and said, "Hello."

Dust turned his head quickly toward Elijah, the fire reflected in his eyes making them look like glowing embers against his shadowed face. His hand shot out in Elijah's direction as if he held a weapon, but his palm was empty. It groped the cold air, the way a person felt around for a pair of lost spectacles. He slid the hood back and squinted into the darkness. Seeing Elijah, he dropped his hand and relaxed.

"You're the cook from the diner," Dust said.

Elijah nodded. "I brought you some sandwiches and coffee."

Dust rose stiffly and walked over to where Elijah stood just at the edge of the ring of fire light. He looked amazed. "You mean you walked all the way out here to bring me sandwiches?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal," Elijah said.

"Thank you," Dust said.

Elijah slid the bag from his shoulder and held it out to Dust. "There's a blanket in there too. I thought you might be able to use one."

Dust seemed too stunned to even reach for the offered provisions, so Elijah set the bag down by the drifter's feet. "All right then," Elijah said, "guess that's it. I'm sorry about the way everybody treated you. It wasn't right, and I do apologize. Take care." He thrust his shivering hands back into his pockets and turned.

"Wait," Dust said, and Elijah faced him.

"You need anything else?"

"No," Dust said. "Why did you do this?"

"Well, you were hungry," Elijah said. "And it's cold out here."

"You mean that's it?"

"What else would there be?" Elijah asked.

"Come sit down," Dust said. "At least warm up before you walk all the way back to your town."

"Okay," Elijah said, and he followed Dust to the fire. They sat cross-legged on the hard-packed earth, looking at each other over flames. Dust unzipped the gym bag and stripped the foil from the sandwiches. He smiled at them as if they were priceless jewels before starting to eat. Then he silently tore pieces of bread and meat into chunks and shoved several of them into his mouth at a time, looking over his shoulder now and then as if Elijah’s mother might appear from behind a cactus and snatch the food away again. Elijah had never seen a human being eat like that. He was reminded of the stray dogs they sometimes had to drive away from the dumpster behind the restaurant. Dust's rapid swallowing, an occasional grunt of pleasure, and the soft crackle of the fire were the only sounds. In less than ten minutes, he'd finished three sandwiches. Elijah poured some coffee into the thermos lid and handed it to the drifter.

"Hope you like lots of sugar," Elijah said.

Dust took a long gulp. "You have some too," he said to Elijah. "To warm up." He held the little metal cup to Elijah's lips and tipped it forward. As Elijah drank from the cup in his hand, Dust slid closer until their shoulders touched. The sudden warm solidity against his arm shocked Elijah. When he realized that Dust had touched him, he almost choked. Dust lowered the cup but didn't pull away. Elijah wiped the coffee from his chin with his sleeve.

"You don't have a cigarette, do you?"

"No, sorry," Elijah said. Questions raced and collided in his mind like bumper cars. He wanted to ask Dust where he was going, where he'd come from, and why. He wanted to know how the drifter had been injured, how long it had been since he'd eaten. The biggest question also remained: Would Dust let Elijah go with him?

"You said there's a blanket in here?" Dust asked as he rummaged through the pack. He found the corner of the blue quilt that had been on Elijah's bed and unfolded it. He threw it over his shoulders like a cape and said "Well, get under."

Elijah hesitated and pulled away. He hadn't been expecting this level of familiarity so soon. It confused him and scared him a little bit. He had almost no experience with such situations, but Dust smiled sincerely, and Elijah took a deep breath, forcing himself to say, "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Come on," the drifter urged, holding the corner of the blanket out from his shoulder. "We'll both be more comfortable if we share."

Elijah spread the blanket across his back and tucked the satiny edge under his chin the way he did when he went to sleep at home. Dust's warmth beside him after his long walk acted almost as a sedative. He realized, to his surprise, that he felt completely safe and comfortable around this stranger. He poured another cup of coffee and laid his cheek lightly against Dust's shoulder.

"Dust," Elijah said, barely above a whisper. The drifter's blue-gray eyes stayed fixed on the fire.

"Dust?" he said again, a little louder.

The black-haired young man turned. He looked so beautiful and mysterious in the amber glow that Elijah inhaled sharply. "Dust, can I ask you something?"

"Dust?"

"You said, at the diner, that you were Dust," Elijah said, blushing and feeling stupid. "What should I call you?"

Dust placed a soft kiss on Elijah's forehead that him tremble from his ears to his freezing toes.

"Call me whatever you want. Call me Dust if you want to, and ask me whatever you want."

Elijah swallowed hard. "I want to help you. Whatever you're trying to do, I want to help."

"Why?"

"I—"

"It's okay," Dust said. He put his arm around Elijah and pulled him closer. "I'd like it if you came with me. It's pretty rough, though, as you can see." He pointed at his camp: a backpack for a pillow and a pile of burning twigs and brush.

"I don't know what I'll be able to do," Elijah said. "I don't really have any talents, except cooking."

Dust nestled his face into Elijah's thick hair and spoke softly into his ear. "That's not true. You have a pure, innocent soul. Real goodness is rare, rarer than riches, or power, or anything. It's a treasure. Besides—" Dust gripped Elijah's chin between his thumb and finger and inclined his head so their eyes met. "—you're really cute."

My second August release is an epic steampunk adventure written with Eon de Beaumont. It’s available at Dreamspinner Press here: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php

Excerpt: Boots for the Gentleman

Finally Querrilous saw the home of his employer. It stood on top of a hillock, a Classical-style mansion surrounded by so many sapphire roses that it appeared to float on a cloud of blossoms. The flowers also lined the stone walkway that led to the temple-like abode. As Querry passed the abundant foliage, a swarm of thumb-length sprites, naked and glowing every color, rose from the leaves. He swatted them away with his gloved hand. They bit.

Querry ascended the many white steps and walked beneath columns practically covered in vines. He could have sworn the porch they supported had curved the last time he’d been here. Now it was straight and square. It was hard to say, though. Whenever he left Neroche, Querry always felt like he’d just woken from a dream. The details departed just as quickly too. Sometimes, from the corner of his eye, Querry swore the grand house resembled nothing so much as a white mound perforated by irregular holes, like those dug by badgers or rabbits.

Querry knocked on the door, and a hunched man reaching only to the thief’s belt buckle opened it. He had greenish skin, a bald head, huge, bat-like ears and a long, hooked nose. He wore a butler’s suit and white gloves.

“Good evening, sir,” the servant said. “The gentleman is expecting you. You’ll find him in his study.”

“And what floor?” Querry asked. Like everything here, it fluctuated.

“The third floor, sir. At the end of the hall.”

“Thank you,” Querry said, heading through the eerie gloom for the staircase. The dusky light that let him find his way came from the walls themselves. Still, he managed to get to the study. Inside, he found his client sitting behind a desk of pale wood. Books lined the walls, reaching dozens of feet high. Between the shelves, silk curtains hung open, revealing windows of beveled glass. A lightning-blue fire crackled in the hearth. Perched on the end of a brocade chaise, a nude young man plucked a silver harp. His skin and hair were white and his eyes deep violet.

Shimmering wings flickered in and out of existence behind him. Though he should have been shocked by such a scandalous display, Querry had learned to ignore his employer’s eccentricities.

“Ah, Mr. Knotte,” said the man behind the desk as Querry entered the room. On cue, the pale harpist stood, bowed, and left the room. Querry watched his willowy, white body as he departed. The door shut softly behind him. “Please sit down.”

Querry took one of the chairs facing his client. The gentleman rested his elbows on the desk and stretched his long fingers into an arch, tapping the tips together. “A successful evening as always, I presume?”

“Um, of course,” Querry answered, reaching to untie the sack from his belt. The gentleman made it hard for him to think. He was stunning—waves of golden hair spilling over the shoulders of his mint velvet blazer, sparkling emerald eyes, and an angular face that looked both soft and devastatingly masculine—handsome, even by fey standards. Querry could see the svelte line of the gentleman’s long neck stretching toward prominent collarbones and a smooth chest that finally disappeared behind a thin silk shirt and paisley waistcoat with pearl buttons. Trying not to make eye contact, Querry passed him the bag.

“Excellent!” the gentleman said, clapping twice. Why he was so excited with another gentleman’s old boots, or why he’d pay Querry twenty pounds to steal them when he could buy them for a few shillings, the thief had stopped trying to figure out. A growing pile of things the gentleman had commissioned Querry to burgle sat in the corner: a broken phonograph, a wooden box of old pencils, a cart wheel missing a few spokes, a porcelain doll with only one eye, a matching ladle and fork, a tangled wig and a set of lace curtains. While the thief suspected himself to be a piece in some unfathomable game, twenty pounds was still twenty pounds.

“My payment,” Querry said, feeling vulnerable. He’d started not to trust himself, his reactions and responses, and needed to leave. The helpless sensation came quicker each time he visited this house.

“Indeed, indeed,” the gentleman said, opening a drawer and sliding a bag of coins across the desk.

Querry snatched them greedily, and found himself embarrassed by his desperation. “Nice doing business,” he said, standing and extending his hand.

The gentleman just stared at his proffered palm. Then, slowly, he got to his feet and came around the front of the desk. His steps, the twist of his waist, and the movement of his hair mesmerized Querry. Querry wondered at how such simple gestures could contain such perfection. How could something as simple as a fingernail be so sublime? The two stood very close now. The gentleman’s chest grazed Querry’s shoulder. He smelled like crushed grass.

“What a fascinating creature you are,” he said in a whisper. He reached up and traced the line of Querry’s brow. The thief felt powerless to resist leaning in to the touch. Querry’s eyes fluttered shut. His breath faltered.

Get a hold of yourself—

“You’re far too beautiful for a common thief.” He stretched his neck, so that his floral breath washed Querry’s cheek and his lips rustled Querry’s hair, turning Querry’s muscles to quivering porridge.

“I’m an exceptional thief,” Querry said, fighting for lucidity. He should step away.

A musical giggle escaped the other man. Querry felt it reverberate up his spine. His pores contracted and his cock skipped. “Exceptional, certainly. Even more so, I’m certain, beneath this cumbersome gear and all of these silly machines. What are you like under there?” His fingers moved down Querry’s face and neck, over his heart and to the buckles of his padded vest. He tapped them one by one, as if he tickled the keys of a piano. Querry felt the faerie’s erection against the side of his thigh, next to his pistol. He felt himself turning to face the other against his will.

“You deserve fine, soft clothing. The best food and wines. Nights of revelry and dance. A life free from toil of any kind.” The gentleman’s hands went to Querry’s hips, pulling their bodies together. Querry curved against him and let his head fall backward so that the gentleman could pull his cravat aside and kiss up his neck. Fire bloomed in his cheeks, and a tingle spread across his pelvis. “You could stay here with me. Would you like that?”

Yes! In that moment, it was all Querry wanted. Nothing else mattered beyond the gentleman’s lips, his hair, and his body. Those sparkling eyes that, in spite of the acceptable clothing, the outward trappings of civility, betrayed something wild. Querry wanted to strip slowly and stretch out naked across the desk. He wanted to lay complacent while the gentleman used his body any way he chose. But he also knew that the desire would fade when he left this place. He knew it just as he knew that if he gave in to this lust, in time he’d stop dressing at all. He’d wander the halls nude. He’d stare out the window at the flowers for days on end. He’d forget his name, stop eating—

“No, I can’t.” He pulled away. Predictably, the gentleman looked at him with even greater awe. “I’m afraid I’ve got to be going.”

The fey lifted his chin and feigned indifference. “If you must, then you must. My offer stands. And if you find yourself short on money, there’s a house on the corner of Tinkerton Street that you may want to visit. Tinkerton Street and Grace Lane.”

“You have another job for me?”

“No,” the gentleman said, turning his back to the thief and resting his hand on the surface of the desk. “I have all that I require, for now.”

“Then what—”

“I said, I have what I require.”

Querry stood staring at the golden sheet of hair flowing over the gentleman’s back, fighting down the urge to touch it. He knew better than to ask why his client suggested the address. He could tell when he was being toyed with. Later, free from the dizzying effects of Neroche and the gentleman, he could try to work it out. Now, though, he needed to leave or he never would.

Augusta's Links:

http://augusteli.blogspot.com/
http://www.facebook.com/#!/Ninja.Gus
http://www.yaoimagic.com/
https://twitter.com/GusAndEon
http://augustali.deviantart.com/
http://yaoi.y-gallery.net/user/augusteli/

Silver Flash!: "Closing Time"

2011-08-17T13:19:00.004-04:00

I'm back, baby! Here's a tasty little morsel for your Wednesday fix. The prompt: "Anyone ever tell you you're a Grade A _______?"

"Anyone ever tell you you're a Grade A bitch?"

Johnson had Kitty cornered in the kitchen of the dark restaurant. They were the only two there, left to finish cleaning and closing. She had the keys, she was his manager, and he was sick of her. She barely looked at him, gave him orders like he wasn't even a person. He was good at what he did, made the most tips and this piece of white trash came in and treated him like he was at the bottom of the foodchain, below the bus boys and dish washers.

Telling him to clean up a drink she'd spilled had been the last straw.

"I'm your boss, and you'll do what I say if you want to keep your job."

Her voice was stern, but her hard gaze faltered as Johnny forced eye contact. Her body language was tense, defensive as his own broad body threatened hers. But there was something else...a slight tremble in her limbs. His blue eyes narrowed.

"What's your deal?"

"I don't have a deal."

Johnson moved closer and placed his hands on either side of Kitty's head, backing her up until she hit the wall.

"You can't threaten me like this. You're fired," Kitty murmured, but all Johnson could focus on
was the intense heat radiating from her body.

"What's wrong with you?" He couldn't help but grin a little now. He had a feeling he knew what
the problem had been all along.

Kitty didn't respond.

"Fine, I'm fired. You're not my boss, and I'm not your employee. Was there something you
wanted to say to me?"

Kitty all but launched her lips into his, and before Johsnon knew it, he was unbuttoning the white blouse she wore and hiking up her black pencil skirt. He needed to get through those pantyhose. Her hand was reaching into the front of his pants now, and she grabbed a firm hold of his hard cock.

Fuck it.

He ripped the netted material at her crotch and moved her tiny, silky thong aside. She wore too much makeup, her ample cleavage was always hanging out, but in this moment he loved all of it. He buried his face in her breasts, and she popped the buttons off of his shirt to feel the hard muscles of his chest underneath.

"Fuck me, Johnson," she purred.

He pulled her away from the wall and half-dragged her onto the counter, running his thumb over her clit, along her slit. She was already dripping, wanting him. She probably had been all night. So that was it. That was all this was. She just needed a good fuck.

"You on the pill or something?" he asked through ragged breathing.

"Yes." She grasped his hair in her hands, and forced his mouth to her neck.

Johnson used his thumb to keep the thong out of the way, and he entered her in one quick, smooth movement. Her muscles clamped down around him, spasmed with the same carnal pleasure that overtook his own senses. His thrusts were hard, rough, and she seemed to like it. Her moans were loud, reverberating through both of their bodies. Johnson tensed, trying to keep control. But as her moans became breathy gasps, then transformed into cries of pleasure, he knew he could let himself go. Kitty bucked against him, and he buried himself deep within her and shot hot sperm into her welcoming warmth.

When the spasms and heavy breathing subsided, Johnson pulled out and handed Kitty a rag.

"Your turn to clean up."

Kitty didn't bother to straighten her clothing as she wiped down the counter, giving him a scathing look as she did so.

"You fired me, remember?" He smirked.

She dropped the cum-covered rag into his hands.

"You're rehired."

Check out the other flashers!

Julie Hayes (m/m) http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com

Victoria Blisse (m/f) http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

WestThornhill (m/m) http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

Pia Valeno (m/m) http://piaveleno.com

Lily Sawyer (m/m) http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f) www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com

Pender Mackie (m/m) http://pendermackie.blogspot.com

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/

Freddy MacKay (m/m) http://freddymackay.blogspot.com

Guest Blogger: Julie Hayes

2011-07-31T09:52:00.003-04:00

Hey, all, and thanks for joining me on this lovely Sunday morning. Today I have fellow Silver Publishing author Julie Hayes with me, and she's got a great blog for you all on the evolution of werewolves and how she added her own twist on the legend.

On the Evolution of Werewolves

When I was growing up, a werewolf movie usually involved someone who looked like Lon Chaney Jr—big, scary, and hairy. Or the product of insanity, like Oliver Reed in the The Curse of the Werewolf. Or creepy, as in Werewolf in a Girl’s Dormitory. And who could ever forget the classic comedy, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, which not only features the hairy creature, but Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster as well, with a special guest appearance by the Invisible Man.

1981 saw a different type of werewolf film, when An American Werewolf in London was released. This was true for two reasons—the creature was CGI and not a guy in a rubber suit, and the unfortunate victim of the curse was actually cute. What a great concept—a werewolf doesn’t have to be old, ugly and hairy, he can be hot!

Flash forward to the present day. Nothing new on the werewolf film front per se, but the novels, oh the novels! Werewolves (and their close cousins the shapeshifters) have become extremely popular, especially among the authors of m/m romance, with the result that you can’t shake a literary stick without running into buttloads of them. What makes them different than their previous counterparts is that these gay werewolves are also hot hunky droolworthy guys that are definitely easy on the eyes.

Have you come a long way, baby!

Now they have packs, and forever mates. They’re heroes, not villains. And they have abs that are to die for!

The new werewolf has stepped into the shoes, or maybe he’s pushed the previous occupant out of the shoes, of the once king of the supernatural sweethearts—the vampire. Perhaps that is because of a glutted market filled with vampire tales. Some would say, quite cattily, that it’s Twilight’s fault, that it left a bad taste in people’s mouths. I would argue that point—perhaps the films did, but the books were good (even if the last one could have been better, especially if it had been split in two). Be that as it may, werewolves are here, and many of them are queer, and they’re jonesing for the attention of the reading public.

A few years ago, when the most popular werewolf around was Remus Lupin of HP fame, I heard a voice in my head who said he was a gay werewolf. I ended up writing his story. His name is Max Montague, and that story became To the Max, which was published March 26th, 2010. Max continued to talk to me, and I’m happy to say that a sequel was born, with the continuation of Max’s story, carrying on where the first one left off. The second book is For Love of Max, and is available today from Silver Publishing.

Max is not your typical werewolf hero. He’s not an alpha, and he’s not a candidate for the cover of a men’s magazine (although Richard would argue that point, but I suspect he is biased). He’s forty-four years old, has a large heart, and a lot of strange friends and family, not to mention a longtime lover, Richard. Despite being a werewolf, which is only a once a month stint, he is a very human, very likeable guy, who is often loath to speak up to defend himself. Like a lot of people. The conflicts of the first book have been happily resolved. Well, not all of them, there are some ongoing problems to be dealt with. And new ones rear their ugly heads. But that’s life, right?

I hope you enjoy reading about a werewolf who isn’t your typical steroid case with the desire to bash skulls at the least provocation. Max Montague is a gentle sensitive soul. But sometimes even nice guys can reach their limits.

No matter what kind of werewolf you prefer, they’re all fun, and that’s what counts. What will the next supernatural darling be? Perhaps dragons. That would be interesting!

Thanks for having me, Heather! Have a great day! I’d love to hear from all of you! What do you think? Do you have a favorite type of werewolf, and what is it?

Excerpt: For Love of Max

Now, where were we? Oh yes, Richard and I have our lips locked together like a couple of love-starved fools, and we're crying and laughing at the same time, and I've just agreed to marry him….

Yes, I did say marry, and I know there are those who will look upon us askance. Gay marriage is far from an accepted lifestyle in this country, even in this supposedly enlightened day and age. In fact it is not only frowned upon, but largely banned. And mostly by people who are afraid of us. Why? Good question. I won't even get into religious ethics, or a discussion of the Bible, nor Christian precepts. Let me just say that disliking or hating someone on the basis of their sexual orientation is just as wrong as hating them for the color of their skin, or for their religious beliefs. And forbidding people to legally wed for the same reason is simply wrong. Where do you draw the line? Mixed race couples, mixed religion couples? What happened to loving one another, regardless of who they are? We are not sinners, we are simply human….

Anyway, we are here and warm… and touching, and loving, and all of the bad air has been expelled, and all that is left is the love in our hearts, the love we bear for one another, which envelops us and cradles us gently. Now we truly begin….

Principessa, our darling King Charles spaniel and our only child, is running circles around us now, excited by our excitement. Her daddies are together again, and very obviously happy. We break the kiss to bestow caresses on our baby. She clambers in between us and we manage to cuddle around her.

"Max, I'm so sorry…"

"Shhh." I lay a finger against his lips. "No apologies, no regrets. Just us and the future. Our future. Together."

He nods solemnly. "I'll never leave you again, Max," he swears, "I'll never disappear without a word, I promise. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me."

"And I am yours," I echo, "'til death do us part."

Our lips come together with soft sighs, and sensual shivers that run between us like electrical charges. We haven't touched at all since the ill-fated night of the last full moon, and the undischarged desire we bear for one another is enough to jump-start a dead car battery.

"I've missed you so much," he murmurs into my lips, "I need you, Max, I always will…."

"And I need you Richard," I reply softly. "Nights without you are far too long… and lonely…."

He moves closer now, his tongue seeking and receiving permission to enter my mouth, his fingers winding through my hair. We are content to let our lips do all the talking. No need to rush, we have all the time in the world—now that we are together again, never to be parted. Our eyes locked in mutual admiration. Our hearts bound in mutual bliss. Our puppy becomes bored with us, and our apparent inactivity, and settles down for a nap, watching us with those big, brown spaniel eyes. We stretch out together in the grass, oblivious to what we might be doing to our three-piece suits. Stains are made to be removed, are they not?

He rolls me over to take the dominant position above me—I love when he does that, for just between us he does dominate and I do tend to submit—it's simply the natural order of our lives. He catches my wrists in his strong grasp, pulling them over my head, holding them against the soft grass, showing me who’s in control—not that I don't know that already.

"Tell me what Max wants." He rubs against me suggestively; the material separating us only serves to enhance the friction between our hardening cocks in a delightfully maddening way.

"Max wants Richard," I respond promptly, predictably. "Max wants Richard to come back home, where he belongs… in Max's bed… their bed…."

"Our bed," Richard echoes, licking my chin softly, squirming against me.

God, I want him so badly.

"And by the way, who's been sleeping in Richard's bed while he's been gone?"

"Not the wolf," I chuckle softly, "that would be Rachel. She's been staying with me. I let her have the bed and I'm in the library, on the couch. All alone…."

"Not tonight, sweet thing." He moves his tongue along my jaw line, sending chills all through me.

"I hope Rachel doesn't mind, but she is officially dispossessed."

"She won't mind, now she can go back to Mark. I'm sure he'll be happy, too."

"I'm sure," he replies. "Max, you wanna take a shower?"

My cock twitches at his suggestion. "I think we can do that." I attempt to maintain an air of casualness, but I fail—miserably. I’m far too excited to be suave and detached.

He brushes his fingertips lightly over my cheeks. "Max could use a shave too," he observes. "I can do that for him, if he likes?"

If he likes? I purr warmly at his touch. Max the recluse hasn't been as diligent as he should have been in keeping the five o'clock shadow at bay. Not that it's much of a shadow, my hair is too light for that, but being a wolf does have its disadvantages. One of them is a tendency toward hirsuteness. But this works out, 'cause I love the way Richard handles a straight razor—deftly, surely, and very, very sensually. I’m about to tell him so, but Swan Lake begins. Damn, someone has horrible timing.

I try to ignore it, but some people don't take a hint.

"Max, go ahead and get it, they'll just call back," my lover points out, releasing my hands. With a sigh, I squirm, raising my hips so that I can pull the phone from my pocket.

"Hello?"

"Max?" It's Juliet. Interruptus maternus. "You were supposed to call me…."

Julie's Info

Blog: http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com
Website: www.julielynnhayes.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=527332074
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3442231.Julie_Lynn_Hayes

Silver Publishing: http://silverpublishing.info/index/typefilter/book_authors/book_authors_id/88
Wicked Nights: http://wickednights.info/?page_id=361
Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_222

Wildfire Newsletter

2011-07-29T22:20:00.002-04:00

Hey, all. I have a story in the July 22nd Wildfire Newsletter from All Romance Ebooks. It's a prequel to my New Concepts Publishing release, Strangers. Third link down. Check it out!

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/newsletters.html

Silver Flash! "One of them Hot Summers, Pt. 2"

2011-07-27T08:33:00.004-04:00

The prompt I chose to use this week was "the color of night." Fit in pretty well, I'd say. I hope you enjoy this steamy piece from Shana and Coffie's story. ;)

The heat wave was just beginning. In one week, Shana had successfully unpacked all of her kitchen supplies, and now she could barely bring herself to move. The children were outside playing again. Someone had managed to break open a fire hydrant, and there was no point in letting the cool water go to waste.Shana sat in front of the television set. She couldn't afford cable, so she watched soap operas, barely able to pay attention for the sweat that dripped down her neck and between her breasts. She had to leave for work in five hours--a night shift. Ms. Fifi had been kind enough to agree to come over and watch the boys for her that night.

Shana closed her eyes and sighed, pulling the thin fabric of yet another tank top high on her torso, until it barely covered her breasts. And she was already in the shortest shorts she could find. She was half-worried she'd die of heatstroke. Where was Coffie and that fan?

Shana had hoped it was an excuse, a reason to see her again. The very thought of him heated her veins, as the sun heated her skin. He was so beautiful, with his dark skin, the color of night, and his deep, sexy voice.

"Shana?"

She must be hallucinating. The pretty blond opened her eyes, and sure enough the man himself stood in her doorway, bearing what she hoped was a working box fan.

She realized her haggard, barely-covered state and stood immediately, straightening her clothes and hair. Coffie's eyes raked shamelessly over her body.

"You look like a snowflake about to melt in this heat."

"I feel like it, too."

Coffie grinned and set the fan on the table. He helped himself to a glass of water in the kitchen, already comfortable enough to make himself at home in hers. And she didn't mind it. Not one bit. He took a long sip, then offered the glass to her. Shana licked her lips. The gesture was intimate. In the back of her mind, she knew this was progressing quickly, and she let it. She raised the glass to her lips; the very knowledge that his had been there was more than enough to spread wet heat between her thighs.

Her heartbeat quickened, and her tongue darted out once more to rid her lips of excess moisture. Coffie's eyes were fixed on the movement. She shifted and squeezed her thighs together, trying to sate the desire she felt.

"Thank you," she murmured.

The tall, statuesque man didn't respond. Instead, he reached his hand out to take the cup away and put it on the counter, then he reached out once more to touch her waist and pull her close. Shana glanced at the open door, but Coffie didn't seem to care if anyone walked in on them. He pressed his soft, smooth lips to hers, kissing her sweetly at first, then harder, his tongue begging entry to her mouth as their cravings grew stronger.

Shana's head was spinning. She hadn't experienced this type of pulse-pounding desire in too long. Her breasts heaved, heat coming at her from every direction now. She felt blissful, dizzy. His lips moved to her neck, slowly teasing the sweet spot beneath her ear as his hand worked its way up her thigh. She held on tightly for the ride as his fingers breached the defense of her shorts easily, pushing aside the thin denim and thinner cotton panties. Then his large fingertips worked their magic. He held her steady with one arm, and used his other hand to toy ruthlessly with the hard nub of her clit.

Shana gasped and shook against Coffie. God, he was amazing. Waves of pleasure swept over her in a steady, methodic rhythm. And just when she thought it couldn't get any better, Coffie dipped his index finger between her damp folds of flesh, stimulating her from the inside and out, bringing her swift and sense-shattering climax.

The pretty blond's body quivered in the arms of a tall, well-built black man. Her cheeks blushed, and she glanced around quickly to make sure there were no gawkers at her windows. She saw none and moved her gaze back to Coffie's dark eyes. He raised his fingers to his mouth, tasting her juices, heating her blood all over again.

And although she could feel his large, hard need pressing against her thigh, he asked for nothing in return.

"I'll see you again, Shana," he murmured in her ear.

"Looking forward to it."

Shana watched him leave, lust and desire barely satisfied. Then she turned on the fan, ready to wait out the heat once again.

Check out the other Silver Flashers!

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com

Lindsay Klug (m/m)
www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com

West Thornhill (m/m)
http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Sui Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/

Victoria Blisse (m/f)
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/

Silver Flash!: "One of them Hot Summers, Pt. 1"

2011-07-20T12:00:00.002-04:00

Welcome to another Silver Flash Wednesday! This week, I got to choose the prompt, and I asked that flashers use "dark chocolate" or "mischief managed." I really really really wanted to use "mischief managed" because I am such a Harry Potter geek (and, after all, the last movie just came out), but nothing was coming to me. So I used "dark chocolate" and this steamy interracial story was the result. Enjoy!

Shana was the only white woman on the block. It was summertime and the heat was scorching outside. Her first floor apartment was muggy—there was no AC—and all she could do was open the windows and hope a breeze might pass through. She was a single mom with two children, waitressing six nights a week, daydreaming about rich men and a better life. But for now, this was it. She’d had such little time to herself, and even after three weeks, she was living mostly out of boxes.

But today, she had the day off. The custody battle was settled, and her children had made friends. Shana’s white tank top stuck to her sweaty chest as she leaned out the living room window. Her two young sons were jumping through a stream of water on the sidewalk while a little dark-skinned girl held the hose. Her mother was sitting on the front step, talking on a cordless phone and keeping an eye on them. Shana was glad her boys had found a place. It was easy to tell they were mixed—their skin was very light brown, and Jasper, the youngest, had blue eyes. She knew they were beautiful and made sure they knew it, but acceptance wasn’t exactly easy for some—on both ends of the racial spectrum.

But the minute she’d moved onto this block, she’d felt the sense of home they’d all longed for. Neighbor after neighbor stopped by to introduce themselves, and all of them came bearing some kind of food. Shana sighed and glanced at her messy kitchen. She should return the favor someday. Soon. But all of these boxes just seemed impossible. She opened one with pots and dishes she’d never used. It was time to find a place for them.

But the pretty blond had barely gotten through half the hand-me-down Longaberger when a knock sounded on her open door. She turned, running a hand through her long hair, in an effort to keep it from sticking to her neck.

The sight that met her blue eyes was unexpected. A tall, smooth-skinned black man stood in the doorway, smiling with perfect white teeth. Shana had never seen anything like him. His skin was impossibly dark, straight African, and it glistened like melting dark chocolate under the heat of the sun.

Damn, there was something about hot summer days on the streets of New York City. Shana’s lust was instant.

“I’m Coffie,” the man introduced himself. “My mother lives next door—Ms. Fifi? I’m visiting and thought I’d come say hello.”

Shana wiped the dust from her hands onto her skin-tight jeans. Of course. She’d heard a bit about Ms. Fifi’s sexy son.

“It’s good to meet you. Ms. Fifi’s been so kind to us.”

She took his strong hand in hers and shook it. Her knees weakened instantly. God, he was beautiful. Late thirties, confident, proud. He was in dress slacks and a wifebeater—the perfect combination of clean and casual.

“Us?” he asked, glancing around the doorframe at the children playing. “The two light-skinned boys are yours?”

Shana nodded and joined him at the door. Her children had moved into the street now, and two girls just a little bit older than her sons were with them.

“The girls are mine,” Coffie explained.

“They’re gorgeous. Is your wife still visiting with your mother?”

“No wife. God knows where their mother is.” He gave a small smile, and Shana returned it.

“Would you like a drink?” she offered. “A soda or water…? I could make lemonade.”

“Lemonade sounds wonderful.”

Coffie sat his tall frame at Shana’s small kitchen table, and she took a pitcher out of a cabinet. Coffie was turning the dial of a box fan with no result.

“It’s broken,” Shana told him.

She was unapologetic, but simple things like that served to remind her that her life wasn’t everything she’d hoped for as a little girl. She was tired, single, broke, and…God…just looking at those large, strong hands made her all too aware of how long it had been since she’d been with a man.

“I can take it for you. I’ll fix it and bring it back in a day or two.”

Shana was surprised at the offer. But, then, she’d spent the last two weeks being surprised at people’s kindness. She’s barely known her neighbors when she was growing up, and she’d never expected to be accepted, to make friends here. But she had. And here was one more. One more incredibly gorgeous friend.

She nearly spilled some of her lemon juice and bit her lip quickly, trying to keep her desire from becoming obvious. But it was overwhelming her. She couldn’t explain it. Perfection had walked through her door, and she couldn’t help her attraction to it.

Shana opened the cabinet above her head and reached for the glasses. The only clean ones were on the very top shelf. In an instant, Coffie was there, very near to her, grabbing two of them easily.

“Thanks,” she murmured softly.

She poured the drinks and handed one to him. He remained standing as he took a long sip. Her gaze lingered on his smooth lips. He caught her looking and smiled. She returned the gesture and stared at a cardboard box on the floor.

“If you need help unpacking, I’m sure my mother and her sisters would be more than happy to come over.”

“She’s already offered, but thank you. I can handle it.”

“I bet you say that a lot.”

She glanced at him, confused and intrigued by his assumption. He didn’t even know her. “Why do you say that?”

“Single parents.” He shrugged, the muscles of his shoulders rippling beneath his dark skin. “We think we can do it all.”

Shana smiled and finished the rest of her drink. “Yes, we do.”

Coffie set his empty glass down on the counter and reached his hand out to shake hers.

“It was good meeting you, Shana. I’ll see you again soon.”

He took her fan with him when he walked out the door. Shana went to the window to watch him wrangle his children. She bit her lip again, too aware of her body. He’d awakened something within her, and she knew the attraction was mutual. She couldn’t wait to see him again.

And, as always, be sure to check out the other flashers!

West Thornhill (m/m) <<>>
http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/

Chris Quinton <<>>
http://chrisquinton.com/

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

Victoria Blisse (m/f)
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/

Lindsay Klug (m/m)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Sui Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/?zx=57a5d3d27a15dbfa

Pender Mackie (m/m)
http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/

Guest Blog: Raine Delight

2011-07-10T00:33:00.005-04:00

Today I have a guest blogger after my own heart. Raine Delight, a fellow Johnny Depp and JK Rowling lover, is joining me for an interview and to discuss her latest releases. Enjoy!

What is the best dirty joke you've ever heard?

A: Ok here it goes….

Two women friends had gone out for a Girls Night Out, and had been decidedly over-enthusiastic on the cocktails. Incredibly drunk and walking home they suddenly realized they both needed to pee. They were very near a graveyard and one of them suggested they do their business behind a headstone or something. The first woman had nothing to wipe with so she took off her panties, used them and threw them away. Her friend however was wearing an expensive underwear set and didn't want to ruin hers, but was lucky enough to salvage a large ribbon from a wreath that was on a grave and proceeded to wipe herself with it. After finishing, they made their way home.

The next day the first woman's husband phones the other husband and said, "These damn girls nights out have got to stop. My wife came home last night without her panties." "That's nothing," said the other. "Mine came back with a sympathy card stuck between the cheeks of her butt that said, 'From all of us at the Fire Station, Well never forget you!'
　
What book that you've written so far is your favorite or the most meaningful? Why?

A: I think it would have to be Fiery Magic, book 3 in my Devon Falls series. It dealt with pregnancy, lovers torn apart and it was the most emotional book I have written. Most of my Devon Falls books are fun, light, steamy reads but this one took me in a direction that hadme crying in a scene as I was writing it.

Another is a WIP I am writing now. It is an M/M story that started with me listening to a song and the most heartbreaking scene literally came to me right then and there. I was writing it till one in the morning. My beta reader said as she read it, she was bawling. :) Guess that means I did good. *laughs*

How did you come up with your pen name?

A: Actually my one writer friend suggested my pen first name and I came up with the last name.
What made you want to become a writer? How do you define a successful writer?
A: I actually didn’t know I had it in me. :) I read a few boring filled with TSTL characters that had me throwing up my hands in disgust when a friend dared me to see if I could do better. That one book is locked away, never to see the light of day it was that bad. After that, my muse gave me inspiration for Devon Falls and the rest is history.

Where do you find inspiration?

A: Actually it can be a news article, a picture, a song…anything can hit me in regards to a story idea. The key thing is to see if I can make a whole story around it.

Do you have a favorite place to write?

A: Since I can’t go far to write (have a desk top computer), I write in the living room either at night (during summer vacations) or during the day an bit here and there when I am not working the day job.

Do your stories tend to have a recurring theme? If so, what is it?

A: That love is universal and can hit anybody…be it a wolf shifter, witch or a regular joe. I want to convey that everyone deserves love even if they think they don’t.

What books and/or writers have inspired you?

A: J. K. Rowling has inspired me once I heard how she started out in the business. Granted I don’t think I will ever make the billions she has made but to hear she started writing Harry Potter on napkins, etc at local pub, made me realize anything can happen in this business.

Were your stories secret projects or were you able to be open with your family and friends about your writing?

A: My family and a few close friends think, wrongly at times, that being a writer means I get million dollar bonuses and that it’s one of those jobs where if they hold their hand out I will slap them with some green. *sighs* unfortunately that isn’t the case and they haven’t supported me in this. I got lucky, though, with my DH being wonderfully supportive and always rooting for me to succeed. That helps make up for the lack of interest in my writing career.

Do you have any weird writing habits?

A: Actually no I don’t unless you count me eating red licorice bites while I write. :)

What advice would you give to any aspiring writers that might be reading this?

A: Don’t give up and yes rejection sucks but you can move on and find a new place for your "baby". Persevere and keep writing. :)

Devon Falls: Fiery Magic
Book 3
Paranormal/Dragon Shifter Sensual Romance
Secret Cravings Publishing
http://www.secretcravingspublishing.com/
Release date TBA

Tagline: Can Damien Dracon find a way to win back his mate before all is lost?

Damien Dracon is back in Devon Falls, and he is about to woo the one lady he left three years ago. Family secrets and youthful pride forced him to give up the one good thing in his life: the love of Alicia Stevens. What he doesn't expect is that Alicia has a secret of her own, and it may just tear them apart. Can two former lovers find it in themselves to forgive one another and let love grow between them? Or will past secrets haunt them and tear them apart?

Devon Falls 4: Haunting Magic Book 4
Paranormal/Wolf Shifter
Secret Cravings Publishing
http://www.secretcravingspublishing.com/
Release date TBA

Tagline: Can a wolf shifter find his mate before Halloween or will he be a lone wolf forever?

Rodrick Dracon is the twin heir to the Dragon Inn. When he finds himself longing for a mate after being footloose and fancy free, he finds himself drawn to the most obnoxious, brassy woman he has ever met: Jaxon Sinclair. She is the one woman who doesn't melt when he goes by or hangs on his every word. She is just aggravating and down right sexy as sin! Soon the sparks fly, passion goes into boiling and Halloween approaches. Can this wolf shifter get this woman to heel before the full moon? Will Jax turn the tables on this ladies man and tame the wolf?

Bio

Raine Delight loves to be pampered by her harem of men that exist solely for her pleasure. Wait…..that was in a movie she saw. Hey, she can dream. :) Raine loves to fight with her muse, attack her manuscripts and find a way to silence the many voices in her head. Inspiration hits at odd times and for Raine, a blank word document page gives her many possibilities on story ideas. Living with her two kids, a significant other who supports her every move in writing and doesn’t mind that she talks about her books like they are real people and doesn’t seem to mind she gets up at 2 am to type away on the computer. With a love for Johnny Depp, movies and 80’s hair bands, Raine finds a way to bring all her chaotic thoughts into a story that tells her readers about love and romance.

Website: http://authorrainedelight.com/

Raine’s Blog: http://authorrainedelight.wordpress.com/

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Raine_Delight

Author/Reader Loop: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Author_Raine_Delight

Email me: rainedelight@yahoo.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorRaine-Delight

Shadowfire Press: http://www.shadowfirepress.com/

Secret Cravings Publishing: http://www.secretcravingspublishing.com/

It's real!

2011-07-09T00:09:00.002-04:00

Westridge is in my hands! So excited!

And don't forget! It can be in yours, too, via Amazon.com or the Silver Publishing website!

Silver Flash!: "Favorite"

2011-07-06T09:29:00.006-04:00

Happy Wednesday, everyone, and welcome to another Silver Flash! This week's prompt was "I'd walk across _____ for you."

"I love you."

"Of course you do."

"I'd walk across oceans for you."

"You'd walk across anything for me right now."

Jahna lounged across the hotel bed, still wearing the lacy black thong and matching bra she'd put on especially to please the senator's son. She knew exactly what he liked by now. She was his favorite.

"I would." Lowell gave her a sideways grin.

He was naked, his large cock still deflating. Jahna licked her lips, ensuring the last salty drops of his cum were gone.

"I bought you this." He pulled a long, velvet-covered box from under one of the perfectly-fluffed, pure white pillows.

Jahna glanced from the box to Lowell's sweet brown eyes. He wasn't the most handsome man, but he certainly wasn't the worst she'd had, either. Not by far. She'd worked herself up through the ranks, moving from the street corner to high class clientele, always being choosy and remaining one of the lucky few to escape an STD or pregnancy or abortion gone wrong.

Hooking was an art, nearly forgotten. To be a success story, one had to possess just the right amount of coyness, sex appeal, and a touch of innocence. Most men needed something to go on --the smallest of hopes that they might be the first to truly please their woman.

And Jahna had all of it it. Her eyes widened slightly, surprised. For a moment, she gave him that pleasure of pleasing her. And then just like that the innocent flirtation, the submission to the sweet, rich man, retreated, and a playful smile touched her lips.

"That had better be a bonus and not means of payment."

Lowell smiled, his eyes bright with excitement. "It is. It's a gift."

"Thank you."

She smiled again and took the box. She opened it to find a white gold necklace laced with tiny diamonds. It was beautiful. Moments like this really made her feel like she'd reached the top. She pulled her hair aside and let Lowell place it around her neck. He kissed her skin sweetly, and her smile was temptingly demure.

"Stay the night with me," he requested.

"I can't."

"How much longer do we have?"

Jahna turned and kissed his mouth, tracing his lips with her tongue, making him groan and stand at attention once more.

"Fifteen minutes."

"You have another appointment?"

"Afraid so."

Lowell's next groan was one of disappointment. He laid her on her back on the big, plush bed, ready to make his last fifteen minutes worthwhile. Jahna glanced at the clock once again, to make sure her timing was correct. Yes. Fifteen minutes, and she'd have plenty of time to make it to his father's apartment.

She was his favorite, too.

Be sure to check out this week's other flashers!

Julie Hayes (m/m)

http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

LindsayKlug (m/m)

http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Victoria Blisse (m/f)

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/

Pender Mackie (m/m)

http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)

http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

Lily Sawyer (m/m)

http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Westridge is officially available in print!

2011-07-04T08:04:00.003-04:00

As Paula Deen would say, check it out y'all!!

And the winner is...

2011-07-01T09:22:00.003-04:00

Debra Guyette!

Congratulations, Debra!

Thanks to everyone who entered. Keep an eye out for more contests in the future! With Westridge going into print in just 3 days, I may see fit to hold another one very soon. Because I'm uber excited. :)

Getting ready...

2011-07-01T09:08:00.002-04:00

I'm putting all the names together to do the drawing for the Bath & Bodyworks gift set! In the next few minutes, the lucky winner will be announced!

All good things...

2011-06-30T08:15:00.002-04:00

It's not quite up yet, but Fiction Vixen will be the last stop on my June blog tour! It's also your last chance to win a PDF copy of Westridge. So check it out and comment later today. :)

http://www.fictionvixen.com/

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. :)

Over at Romance Reviews Today with a contest!

2011-06-29T00:31:00.001-04:00

Stop by and comment for your chance to win a PDF copy of Westridge!

http://romrevtoday.blogspot.com/

Guest Blogger: Sam Crescent

2011-06-26T08:39:00.002-04:00

I've got Sam Crescent with me today, folks. She's got one beautiful cover and one cool blog about finding the perfect hero.

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.

Bio:

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:

Blog: http://samcrescent.wordpress.com/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/SamCrescent
Facebook: http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Sam-Crescent/100002178529657
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4879423.Sam_Crescent

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!

Romance Junkies!

2011-06-25T11:36:00.001-04:00

Hey, all. I'm over at the Romance Junkies blog today talking about print books vs. ebooks. Check it out. ;)

http://www.romancejunkies.com/rjblog/

Silver Flash!: "Plaything"

2011-06-22T11:19:00.005-04:00

Hey, all! I'm a bit late posting on this lovely Wednesday, but here it is! It's a one-shot this time and not the most romantic story ever, but I sure hope you enjoy it! ;)

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're eighteen?"

"I'm legal."

"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)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Pender Mackie (m/m)
http://pendermackie.blogspot.com

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Victoria Blisse (m/f)
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

Coffee and Romance!

2011-06-20T23:59:00.003-04:00

I'm continuing my Westridge blog tour over at Coffee & Romance today! Drop on by to learn all about my muse: music. It's set to post at 6:00am.

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!

Guest Blogger: Lynn Crain

2011-06-19T09:58:00.002-04:00

Welcome to another lovely Sunday, everyone! I have Lynn Crain with me today, discussing her series, Blue Moon Magic.

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.

Bio

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 lynncrain@cox.net.

Links

Website: www.lynncrain.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/oddlynn3
Blog: http://lynncrain.blogspot.com
Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/XtraOrdinaryRomance
Facebook: www.facebook.com/oddlynn3

Blurb: Night of the Blue Moon

One father.

Two mothers.

Four siblings.

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.

Excerpt: Night of the Blue Moon

Prologue

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.

How?

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

Double the pleasure...

2011-06-18T10:49:00.003-04:00

...double the fun! To celebrate the release day of Westridge, I'm guest blogging with two lovely ladies today! I'm over at Lindsay Klug's blog talking about the reason I like to incorporate children in my work, and I'm with Julie Lynn Hayes answering the dreaded Rick Reed questions! So stop on by.

And also stop by the Silver Publishing page to snag your copy of Westridge!

Silver Flash!: "Death of a Dog, Pt. 10" FINAL CHAPTER

2011-06-15T08:22:00.004-04:00

Hey, all, and thanks for joining me for another Silver Flash! This is the last installment of "Death of a Dog," which means a whole new fun and exciting (and sexy) story next week! This week's (loose) prompt was "I took a vow of silence when he tries to talk to me." I hope you enjoy it!

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.

"Yes."

"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."

"Then don't."

"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.

The End!

Be sure to check out this week's other Silver Flashers!

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

Blogging with RJ Scott today!

2011-06-14T10:39:00.000-04:00

Stop by and check it out! :)

http://www.rjscott.co.uk/

Exciting News!!

2011-06-14T00:00:00.002-04:00

Westridge is going to print! So if ebooks aren't your thing, you're out of excuses. ;) Release date coming soon!

Guest Blogger: Tracy L. Ranson

2011-06-12T12:11:00.003-04:00

Welcome to another lovely Sunday, everyone! With me today is Tracy R. Ranson, and she'll be giving us some tips on time management. I was just talking with a co-worker the other day about how James Patterson and Nora Roberts must be going insane to write so many books in such a short amount of time, but Tracy knows how they do it!

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.
http://www.tracylranson.com/

About Tracy:

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?"

"You."

"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?"

"Rookwood."

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."

Guest Blogging with LM Brown today!

2011-06-10T10:02:00.000-04:00

Check it out! ;)

http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/

Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 9"

2011-06-08T00:00:00.002-04:00

I'm back this week! It turns out that two releases and a full time job take up a LOT of time. Enjoy! ;)

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)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

Guest Blogger: LM Brown

2011-06-05T09:26:00.003-04:00

Happy Sunday, everyone! If you're as tired as I am this morning, hopefully this guest blog from fellow Silver Publishing author LM Brown will wake you up! She's here discussing her writing process and inspiration. Be sure to check out the blurb and excerpt for Touch of a Ghost below!

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!

Strangers...

2011-06-03T23:49:00.003-04:00

...is now available from New Concepts Publishing! It's a short ebook, and short means cheap! $2.50 buys you a pretty nice chunk of steamy shapeshifter sex. So snag your copy today! Check out the blurb below and click on the pic to buy. :)

Blurb:

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.

Blog Tour: Destiny Blaine

2011-06-02T19:41:00.005-04:00

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.

Guess who's at Coffee and Romance today...

2011-06-02T19:07:00.003-04:00

That's right, everyone. I'm a busy girl. I'm over at Coffee and Romance today promoting my NCP release, Strangers. Stop by to find out about my inspiration for the story in my guest blog: "I Love This Bar."

Guest Blogging with Love Romance Passion!

2011-06-02T09:01:00.002-04:00

Hi, everyone! Just wanted to let you know I'm over at Love Romance Passion today promoing Westridge. I'm talking a bit about how to deal with bad reviews, and you can comment for your chance to win a copy of Westridge (once it's released on June 18th). Hope to see you there!

Another beautiful cover!

2011-05-31T19:55:00.002-04:00

This one's for Strangers, the VERY hot paranormal romance that's being published by New Concepts Publishing. Want to check it out? Click the pic on June 3rd (this Friday!!) to grab your copy!

Guest Blogger: Nobilis Reed

2011-05-29T12:24:00.006-04:00

Hello, everyone! Today I have fellow Coming Together contributer Nobilis Reed discussing the most dreaded and, yet, the most motivational aspect of writing: deadlines. Visit her website at http://www.nobiliserotica.com/

On Deadlines

As a parent of teenagers, I witness the mind dominated by immediate
needs and immediate desires daily. Yes, they can plan and work
towards long-term goals, but the default, if they are not vigilant, is
to pursue whatever desires are forefront in their minds at that
moment. "It's your turn to change the catbox today" is not as likely
to get results as "if you do not change the catbox, as you agreed to
do, there will be consequences."

My muse works the same way. If there are no consequences for failing
to write on any given day, it's not likely to happen. Nothing spurs
my creativity like a looming deadline. It is for this reason that I
carefully arrange my projects so that there is always something on the horizon, some goal to hit, something for which someone is depending on me. It works best if I have a deadline within the next three or four months at all times. Beyond that, it's not really impending enough to spur activity. I call this state "project saturation." It's a balance between being too busy to keep my commitments, and too idle to get things done.

Now this isn't to say that this state of obligation nirvana is a cure
for writer's block. I get blocked sometimes, even on projects that are
due in a matter of days. But I find that I can get around those blocks
by working on something else for a while, something that has a
deadline further out, and come back to my original project after
fifteen minutes or so of proving to myself, once again, that I can in
fact write, I can go back to the original project and get moving on
it.

A nice, meaty deadline can even help me power through distractions.
This weekend I happen to be a participant at the Balticon science
fiction convention (www.balticon.org) and last night I was a
contestant in a writing competition modeled after the "Iron Chef" TV
show. Alongside Helen E H Madden (www.cynicalwoman.com) and Jhada Addams (www.jhadaaddam.com) we were challenged to write as many words of erotica as we could manage in a 20 minute span of time... while the emcee was looking over our shoulders and commenting on what we were writing, while the audience was hooting and laughing at his antics, while trying to incorporate the secret ingredient--artichoke--into the story. Probably about the worst possible environment.

I wrote more than 400 words in that 20 minutes.*

That's about as fast as I write in a nice, quiet, environment. Even
though it was a silly little game, the fact that it was a competition
gave me the tools to focus on the keyboard and the screen, and just
keep writing.

My next looming project is the third book in my "Orgone Chronicles"
series. I wrote the first 50,000 words of it during nanowrimo
(www.nanowrimo.org) last year, and now it is nice and stale on my hard drive, waiting for me to get in there and start revisions. The second one, "Pirates" (www.logical-lust.com/pirates.html) is just released this weekend, and as I do my readings and promotion here at the convention, I am reminded of why I am so in love with this story. I can't wait to get back in there, feel the sweet lash of deadline's whip on my back, and write.

*And if you think that's impressive, Jhada wrote almost 500 words, and Helen wrote more than 800.

Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 8"

2011-05-24T22:17:00.004-04:00

Welcome back, boys and girls! This week, the story of Amber and Raven continues. Is Raven more monster than man? Keep reading Silver Flash to find out.

Amber immediately took a step backwards. Raven was fighting it, fighting the canine inside of him that wanted to kill her. Again. And even though she knew its intention, she didn't want to leave Raven alone to suffer.

"Are you scared?" he or it asked.

"Not as much as you'd want."

"That's a mistake."

"Stop it."

"You ever dance with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

The tone was menacing, and even in broad daylight, a shiver ran down Amber's spine. Day or night, she was outmatched. This dumb dog was just toying with her. It had been awakened by their passion. It knew exactly who she was, and it wanted to take her from Raven again. His life had to be miserable, always, for the canine to be satisfied.

The dog was beginning to win. Raven's teeth and nails grew longer, as during his first change, but it didn't stop there this time. It had become more powerful. Raven tore off his clothes in a fit of madness, and as his body contorted, Amber recognized that this was the most vulnerable he'd be until he was fully transformed. She grabbed a rock with a shaking hand and hit him hard on the back of the head.

Raven slumped to the ground, naked, half-changed. She checked to make sure that he was still breathing, then she dragged him into the tent and zipped the flap, intending to leave the wood for now and do what she did best--research and problem solving. She had to get this dog out of him. But then she heard a twig break near her, and she whirled around immediately. The sight shocked her.

"Jasmine?" she breathed.

Her friend looked awful. The blond was dirty and shaking, but Amber could still see the blue highlighter in her hair. She hadn't been to the dorm. She looked terrified. What had she seen?

"Amber. Thank God."

Maybe she hadn't seen anything.

"What's wrong?"

"There's um...There's a...I don't know."

Her eyes were wide, disbelieving. Amber glanced behind her. Did this have to do with Raven?

"Where were you last night?"

"Here. I stayed with Paul. We went skinnydipping. And then..."

"Oh, no."

Amber looked to the water.

"I don't know what happened. I think he's...dead. What do I do? I can't go back. Thank God you're here."

Amber hugged her friend tightly. Apparently her leg had been the lake monster's appetizer. Paul had been the meal. Another shiver ran down Amber's spine.

"He must have drowned. Got caught on a rock or something," she suggested.

"No. No, there was something down there." Jasmine eyed the lake, terror etched in her pretty features.

"Well, there's nothing we can do right now except go back--"

Amber was trying desperately to move the girl away from the campsite, which she hadn't seemed to notice yet in her current state.

"No!" Jasmine cut her off. "I don't know...what to tell them."

"But you can't hide here forever."

"I know. I know that."

This was hopeless. How could she convince Jasmine to go with her?

"Then we won't go back. But we have to go somewhere."

Jasmine nodded slowly.

"Okay."

Amber grabbed her friend's hand and was ready to lead her to the waiting motorcycle when there was a low growl and, with a scream, her friend was gone. Amber whirled around, trying to find Raven. She knew instantly that he was at fault. Jasmine was knocked to the ground but stood and began running away from them, through the woods, towards the shore. Raven tore after her, on all fours, more dog than human now.

"Raven!" Amber screamed after him.

Her injured leg slowed her down, and by the time she reached them, Raven had Jasmine against the shore, forcing her to choose between two monsters. Amber could do nothing more than scream his name again before he lunged.

Check out this week's other flashers!

Julie Hayes (m/m)

http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Lily Sawyer (m/m)

http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Sui Lynn (m/m)

http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/?zx=57a5d3d27a15dbfa

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)

http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

Guest Blogger: ZA Maxfield

2011-05-22T21:42:00.007-04:00

Hello, everyone! Thanks for joining me on this lovely Sunday evening as I introduce Z.A. Maxfield, author of All Stirred Up. She's here today with one hilarious dirty joke and some other interesting tidbits about what makes her tick. Enjoy!

What is the best dirty joke you've ever heard?

This is probably not the best, but so far, for forty years or so, it’s been my favorite. I wish I could tell it like my high school boyfriend Richard did, but here goes, I’ll try.

This forty-year-old dentist is afraid of sex because his mother – to protect him from the machinations of evil women who only want one thing-- always told him women had teeth down there.

One day he’s treating an incredibly sexy woman who has a phobia about dentists. He tries to relax her and reassure her, but nothing helps – until he tells her about his horrible fear of women and how he’s gotten over it enough to treat women in his practice by not thinking about their teeth down there. He tells her if he had to actually look down there, he’d use nitrous oxide or any one of the things he uses to help his patients. The woman is amused and a little turned on by the idea of a forty-year-old-virgin, and so they agree to help each other.

They get high on nitrous oxide together, and they each use an earbud to listen to Enya’s Sail Away. He puts on his rubber gloves and she takes off her skirt and panties. When the moment comes, she submits to getting a hypodermic full of Novocain to numb her gums in preparation for a filling and he opens her legs for The Big Reveal!

Shocked, he takes in her smug expression.

"Sheee? She tells him. "Shilly. Theresh no teeth down there."

"I should say not!" He gapes at her, appalled. "Just look at the condition of those GUMS?"

What book that you've written so far is your favorite or the most meaningful?

I my most meaningful story was Jumping Off Places, which is one of my novellas. It can be found in the Because of the Brave anthology I did with Josh Lanyon and Laura Baumbach.

Why?

The timing of that, my deadline, was a month after my mother passed away. I was so numb I found myself writing a lot of things I couldn’t have written even a month after that. It was unexpected and raw, emotionally. When I went to edit it a couple of months later it was clear I’d have a tough time.

How did you come up with your pen name?

Z.A. Maxfield is a combination of all my children’s names, Zoe, Alexander, Zachary and Maxfield. I have an absolutely adorable picture of my twins on the soccer field, facing away. Their jerseys say Zachary and Maxfield.

What made you want to become a writer? How do you define a successful writer?

I always wanted to be a writer because words were my first playthings. They’ve always been a favorite. Even when there’s nothing else to do, words are there to enjoy. What’s not to love? My definition of a successful writer is one who goes to bed at night happy with what he’s written for the day.

Where do you find inspiration?

Everywhere. Beware, coffee sippers at Starbuck’s, book browsers at Borders, lovely men carrying bouquets of flowers at Anime Expo. I will pull you into my churning, grinding mill of happily-ever-after and spit you out with an oh-so-stimulating lifelong romance. You are mine… Mueh heh heh…

Do you have a favorite place to write?

I like to write on that little strip of skin at the base of a hot man’s back where it meets his ass but you can only do flash fiction before you run out of room.

Do your stories tend to have a recurring theme? If so, what is it?

Inevitably, I have two themes, family and redemption -- even when I’m trying to write filthy, dirty books. I can’t help myself.

What books and/or writers have inspired you?

I love Joan Didion. She was my favorite writer for a long time, and she never gets old for me. She’s so sharp and tight and raw emotionally. Absolutely dazzling.

Were your stories secret projects or were you able to be open with your family and friends about your writing?

Oh, man. I still remember my kids telling their fifth grade teachers, "You don’t want to EVEN know what my mom writes. But she makes money." Their teacher loved that, and asked about it. I scandalized a lot of people at parent teacher meetings. On the other hand, I didn’t get invited to career day… Their loss!

Do you have any weird writing habits?

Well. If you’ve read The Long Way Home, I have to be totally in the dark and touching myself… snort… Nope. Other than the fact that I like to wear my pjs with a bra, because let’s face it… A lady doesn’t begin the day without support, no. Nothing weird about me at all. Why? Who’s been talking?

What advice would you give to any aspiring writers that might be reading this?

Write like the wind: There has never, ever been a better time to be a writer. You have the internet, you have research and a virtual view of any part of the world that strikes your fancy at the touch of a button.

Write like the wind: Publishing is going ass over teakettle and the sky is the limit as far as getting your niche market work seen. You no longer have to prove yourself to a handful of uber-erudite people in a boardroom somewhere, you can apply directly to your readers,

And most important:

Write like the wind: Amuse yourself, because in the end, that’s all that matters.

Blurb: All Stirred Up

After Brendan and his mother witness a completely random tragedy, his carefully controlled life begins to fall apart. First he starts having nightmares and panic attacks, and then he loses focus in his daily life. His board of directors insists he take a vacation at a so-called “relaxation destination” and to make matters worse, they’ve hired newly minted psychiatrist, Dr. Dirk Melovitch, to accompany him.

Dirk, whose job it is to help Brendan learn to relax, walks into the lobby of Brendan’s hotel wearing a borrowed suit and an attitude that rubs Brendan the wrong way from the moment they meet. They head for the airport and their carefully planned itinerary goes out the window, one small setback at a time.

From the airports of New York and Atlanta, to the long, lonely highways of Texas, to an upscale rehab destination in Santa Fe, Brendan and Dirk each try to gain the upper hand until both find out that it’s not just life that can get a guy All Stirred Up.

Grab your copy of All Stirred Up from Manlove Romance Press today!

Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 7"

2011-05-18T00:00:00.002-04:00

Hey, all! Welcome to another Silver Flash Wednesday! Sorry I missed out last week, but I'm back with a bang! And banging. ;) This week's prompt was "Your ego is outrageous."

What felt like a long time ago, although it had been only yesterday, Amber had been a logical thinker, a young woman who watched her alcohol intake carefully, always studied for exams, and didn't let boys get in the way.

Now, there were werewolves and monsters and reincarnated Native Americans. And she felt the instinctive, carnal need to comfort her love--a need which she'd never experienced before. Raven needed to know that she'd survived the dog's wrath, that she was undeniably tangible. So she took his hand in hers, connecting them as she built up her courage. But she didn't need to; Raven was more than willing to take the initiative.

He pulled her close and landed a long, sensual kiss on her lips, giving them time to relish in the feel of one another. Amber's hands moved to his chest, exploring the muscles beneath his cotton t-shirt, letting her fingertips trail lower, until she found the hem of his shirt. She slipped her hands beneath the cotton fabric to feel his skin against the palm of her hands. Raven groaned and grasped her hip, pulling her closer, his tongue begging entry to her warm, wet mouth. Amber gave it gladly, twining her tongue with his, gasping as his hard erection pressed against the vee of her legs through their jeans.

Memories erupted in her mind. They were married. They'd been married by the same man who marked him. And on their wedding night, they'd played hide and go seek in what had been a much more expansive version of the woods, until Raven finally managed to catch her and drag her back to their wigwam for a night of passion she thought she'd never forget. But she had. And Raven had never had that luxury.

Her legs trembled, both from anticipation of the pleasure that was going to come and as a reminder from her injured leg that it was far from healed. Raven lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing his neck as he took her farther into the woods, away from the path. There was a tent nestled between two strong trees. Amber recognized the area immediately. It had been the exact location of their home together. Raven unzipped the flap, and Amber crawled in, lying on her back on his down sleeping bag, offering herself up to him.

He crawled in on top of her. His shirt was gone, and he made hers disappear quickly, along with her bra. Her body was new to him. She hoped it would please him, and by the way his head dipped to worship her breasts, she guessed it did. His wet mouth teased her nipples ruthlessly, making her squirm and moan as desire pulsed between her thighs. She couldn't take it. She needed him.

She reached between them to unclasp the button of his jeans, and he removed them quickly before tugging hers down her thighs, being careful not to aggravate her wound or displace the bandage around it. He kissed the injury sweetly, then worked his way up her body, stopping briefly to breathe her musky scent, to taste her. Amber arched up, begging him to continue, but he didn't. Instead, he pushed her patiently back down into the padded ground and continued his journey to her mouth. He kissed her again, then readied himself at her entrance and eased inside of her.

Amber's body was charged, electric, as if it had been searching for release from this one man her whole life. She raised her hips to meet his until he rested fully inside of her. Then he pulled away and plunged back in, beginning a series of slow, steady thrusts that made her toes curl. She held onto him for dear life, pressing her fingers into his skin, caressing the scar on his shoulder gently with her thumb. This was comforting, connecting...this was lovemaking. She'd never experienced it before. Raven cared for her so deeply, and she cared for him. She kissed his shoulder, followed his rhythm, until they were one breathless, moaning entity.

Protection never came into question. He was her husband. It was unnecessary. So when they reached their peak together, it was pure, skin on skin, and Amber felt every hot, wet drop of his desire as her body spasmed around him and he exploded within her.

It was over too soon. Amber wanted to feel that way forever. But she couldn't. Raven gave her one last kiss and separated himself from her. He'd gone quiet. He left the tent to put on his clothes, giving Amber more room to replace hers. She did so quickly. Something was wrong. A chill rose in the air. The happy moment of their reunion was over, and something sinister was taking its place.

She stepped outside of the tent. Raven's back was to her, his head was in his hands. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to speak.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked.

His tone was cocky, rude, unlike him. Amber just continued to watch and wait, refusing to dignify his question with a response. He still wouldn't look at her.

"Well?" he insisted. "Did you?"

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Say you love me. You do, don't you?"

"Raven..."

"What?" his voice was testy.

"Either something's wrong or your ego is outrageous. And I don't remember that about you."

The man was quiet for a moment, then he turned. His eyes had a crazy look to them. He took one step towards her, and she held her ground. Then he seemed suddenly himself again, if only for a moment.

"He knows," he said in that deep, pained tone that she heard too often from him.

"What do you mean?"

Raven pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. His body was shaking. Then he looked at her one more time, and his eyes were yellow, his voice not entirely his.

"He wants to take you again."

Be sure to check out this week's other flashers!

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Sui Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/

Pia Valeno (m/m)
http://piaveleno.com/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

Victoria Blisse (m/f)
http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/

For those of you who got a preview...

2011-05-17T09:14:00.001-04:00

Oops. I clearly don't know what day it is. lol The Silver Flash will officially be up tomorrow, so stop back! ;)

Westridge is available for pre-order!

2011-05-14T22:57:00.002-04:00

Check it out on the Silver Publishing website. :)

Guest Blogger: Pender Mackie

2011-05-08T00:00:00.003-04:00

Welcome to another lovely Sunday, everyone! With me today is Pender Mackie (one of my personal faves) to talk about her latest release, Scent of Attraction.

Since my first published story, Scent of Attraction, was released in mid April I’ve been asked the same question again and again: How did I come up with the story?

Today I thought I’d write about … the making of Scent of Attraction.

Last October I was poking around on the Internet and came across a call for submissions for Silver Publishing. I’d been writing m/m stories for a couple of years but never submitted any of them to a publisher. I hadn’t quite worked up the nerve yet. As I sat there staring at my monitor I decided I’d do it. I’d write a story and submit it to Silver.

I didn’t want to submit something I’d already written so I needed an idea for a story. I’m one of those writers that start from a scenario rather than a specific character so I started thinking about romance and men and ‘what if’ scenarios.

With the holidays just around the corner I was Christmas shopping —with my usual lack of enthusiasm—when the perfect ‘what if’ scenario popped into my head.

In this case it was … what if a guy meets someone he’s overwhelmingly attracted to while the other man is shopping for a present for his boyfriend? Even worse, what if the poor guy works at a store and actually has to help pick out the present for the sexy man’s boyfriend? What if the handsome shopper is just as attracted but a firm believer in monogamy?

Since I have a bit of a mean streak, this scenario appealed to me. I happily abandoned my Christmas shopping and rushed home to work on my brand new story.

First I roughed out a brief bio for Shawn, my poor hapless salesman. This isn’t everything, I didn’t list his physical characteristics, his personality or his back story here, but these are little extra bits that fleshed out his character.

Favorite drink: amber rum and coke
Favorite movie: the Resident Evil series
Favorite book: Shawn’s not much of a reader
Favorite food: pizza
Favorite activity: video gaming
Favorite type of man: professional (Shawn’s a sucker for a man in a suit)

Then I did the same for Graham, the uber sexy shopper.

Favorite drink: white wine, especially Riesling
Favorite movie: Touch of Evil or any other movie in the film noir style
Favorite book: autobiographies
Favorite food: anything spicy (probably due to his Hispanic heritage)
Favorite activity: reading in bed, with a nice glass of wine
Favorite type of man: redheads (or strawberry blonds)

A surprising amount of these details worked their way into the story. The others helped me understand how each man would behave in specific situations.

The hard part (as for any writer) was getting it down with the right, nuance and tone for each scene.

Once I was satisfied, I sent my manuscript off to Silver and waited anxiously. Lucky for me, Silver is great about getting back to their writers quickly so they didn’t keep me in suspense for too long.

Now I’m busy working on my next story, Hit and Run. It’s about Gavin, a self-sufficient, slightly anti-social man who against his better judgment, falls for Jamie, his young, homeless mugger. There’s that mean streak again!

Blurb: Scent of Attraction

When Shawn takes a job at a cologne counter in a busy department store he hopes it’s the beginning of a successful career in the health and beauty industry.

But almost two years later Shawn is frustrated with his job and his love life. He’s still working the cologne counter, still single and still spending every night alone.

His job allows him to meet plenty of good-looking men but most of them are straight, and even when they aren't, Shawn is shy. He gets nervous and tongue-tied when he’s around a hot guy and the thought of going on a date with a complete stranger makes his stomach churn nervously.

When he meets friendly and outgoing Graham the attraction on both sides is intense and immediate.

Shawn might be willing to step out of his comfort zone this time, but there’s just one problem. Graham's already with someone else.

It looks like their relationship is over before they even share a kiss ...

Excerpt: Scent of Attraction

Shawn groaned quietly. Another day dealing with good-looking straight boys. He really wasn’t in the mood for them today. He groaned again and resisted tugging on his short, carefully gelled hair. Besides being an annoying reddish blond and ridiculously fine, if he touched it too much the spiked bits would flop over, ruining the overall effect. Plus, he'd look about twelve years old instead of the twenty-five he actually was.

He stood in the center of his workspace, grimacing at the glass and chrome-trimmed counters that surrounded him. The glare—combined with the insipid store music and the smell of too many competing colognes—was starting to give him a headache. His shift had barely started and it was the middle of the January sales so the store would be full of shoppers looking for things they wanted, but didn’t get for Christmas.

It was Shawn's least favorite time of year. He didn't much like winter and he didn't like the frenzied shoppers and their mindless consumerism. And he hated how the stores—including this one—pushed to sell more of everything from perfume to kitchen gadgets, as if people hadn't bought enough unnecessary junk at Christmas.

Shawn's bad mood wasn't really about gray skies or bargain-hunters, though. He knew the real reason. He'd been working at this stupid cologne counter for almost two years and still no promotion.

When he'd finished university and taken this job in a brand new city, Shawn had known he'd be pushing fragrances and skin products, but that was okay. He'd done his research. This company was one of the best in the industry and he knew they liked to promote from within, liked their executives to have ground-floor experience. It was even rumored that a couple of the VPs had started out on the fragrance or cosmetics counter, and Shawn was willing to pay his dues. He just hadn't expected it would take so long to get his first promotion, and his lack of progress was making him moody and frustrated.

But there were some good things about this job. He got to see a lot of nice looking guys—though most of them were straight. He didn't have to spend much time with Mandy; the annoying saleswoman working the cosmetics counter, and his coworker, Stefan, was great.

He'd met Stefan when he began this job and they'd become almost instant friends. Stefan was a few years older and in a long-term relationship, but he'd made an effort to befriend Shawn and show him around the city. His partner, Anthony, had been just as outgoing, and now Shawn had a couple of good friends so his social life was doing all right even if his career and love life sucked.

Stefan's shift would start soon, and Shawn knew he'd be here any minute—his coworker was obsessively punctual. As Shawn glanced at his watch, Stefan glided towards their counter in his usual snazzy business attire and, for some unknown reason, a ridiculous-looking, puffy down-filled coat. The coat was open and his hands were stuffed in the pockets. Stefan was wearing his best bland expression. That meant he was up to something.

"Morning, Shawn. Ready for another fun-filled day of adventure?"

Shawn shrugged, feigning indifference as he leaned against the counter.

"You could be a little more enthusiastic since I'm about to make all your dreams come true. Guess what I've got in my pocket?"

"Unless it's a dehydrated, instant boyfriend and a bottle of water, I don't want to know."

"Ha ha. Funny," Stefan huffed. He looked around carefully. “Where's Mandy?"

"Probably fixing her face."

"If she wears any more makeup she's going to need a heat gun to peel it all off. Here, I smuggled us in some coffee." Stefan carefully drew two takeout cups from his pockets.

Shawn brightened and pushed off from the counter. "Thanks." He accepted the coffee gratefully, taking greedy sips before stashing the cup behind the cash register sitting on the island in the middle of their station. Caffeine was almost as good as aspirin. He could actually feel the headache receding.

"Maybe you aren't making all my dreams come true but you're definitely at the top of my list of favorite people today."

"Aren't I always?" Stefan asked, grinning. He sipped his own coffee more sedately. "I like your dehydrated boyfriend idea. You could order him from the back of a comic book, like those sea monkeys."

"Yeah. You could skip the 'I like him, does he like me?' phase and the awkward first date stuff," Shawn joked. He was getting into this now. "Just add water and ta-da! Instant boyfriend. Plus, if he did something to annoy you, you could leave him on top of the radiator to dry out and shrivel up again," Shawn suggested, laughing.

"Please! Don't use the words 'shrivel' and 'boyfriend' together." Stefan shuddered theatrically as Shawn snickered.

* ** *

"Lord have mercy," Stefan muttered.

Shawn looked up, his knees stiff from prolonged kneeling. Stefan was gazing across the department store floor.

"What?" He turned awkwardly and sat on his haunches. Damn. His foot was asleep.

"Hot man at ten o'clock. To your left." Stefan spoke from the corner of his mouth as if he was in a prison yard relaying a message—jailbreak tonight, pass it on.

Shawn thought maybe Stefan had seen too many movies. It took him a few seconds to figure out where to look and when he did, he couldn't see beyond the counter from his position.

"He's coming over. Get up here!"

"Why?"

"He's hot and who knows? Maybe he's single."

"And gay?" Shawn asked only half-sarcastically.

"Maybe. Just get up here!" Stefan strode towards him and reached out to grab his arm. They both froze as the man reached their counter. Shawn looked at him, curious to see what all the fuss was about.

The man wasn't particularly tall but he did have a nicely muscled frame, light olive skin, and dark wavy hair pushed back from his forehead. The whole package was presented in a dark business suit and a crisp white shirt. Shawn's pulse picked up. He loved the sight of a good-looking guy in a smart suit, and this one was gorgeous.

Scent of Attraction is available at Silver Publishing http://silverpublishing.info/product_book_info/new-release-c-1/scent-of-attraction-p-261

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Scent-of-Attraction-ebook/dp/B004VSYNUU

and several other well-known ebook sellers.

Thanks for visiting this blog and a big thank you to Heather, my fellow Silver Flash Fiction writer, for hosting me today.

If you’d like to read some of my flash fictions head over to my blog at: http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/

Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 6"

2011-05-04T00:00:00.002-04:00

Welcome back to another Wednesday of flashing! I hope you enjoy part 6!

The pain in Amber's leg was manageable. But she couldn't walk all the way to where she knew she'd find Raven--in the woods, by the lake. Where their home together once had been. She shook her head as she approached the exit of the building. It was as if she had two sets of memories. How was she supposed to handle this?

She still held the jacket in her hand. To return it or to keep as a momento, she wasn't sure. Her feet led her to the college's cafe. She would have a coffee and think things through. Jasmine might be there for a quick pick-me-up after whatever walk of shame she'd doubtless performed that morning. But when Amber stepped into the seating area, she didn't find Jasmine. She found Raven, sitting in the same seat as the previous day.

The other students gave him a barely-noticeable berth, subconciously curious and a bit afraid of the supernatural being. A black t-shirt and jeans graced his hard body. His dark eyes were locked on her. He had the look of a king on his throne, inspiring awe and a strange longing within her. But he wasn't a king. He was just hers--her king. The thought sent a rush through her veins, the same intense emotion she'd experienced in her dream, when they...Her cheeks grew hot, and she broke eye contact. Soon, she felt Raven near her. His hand touched her arm, his breath tickled her neck as he spoke quietly to her.

"You can't just pretend I'm not here."

She raised her eyes to his again. Her feelings were muddled. She didn't know what she was supposed to say. Raven kissed her cheek, and just that tender gesture set fire to her veins.

"Let's go for a ride," he suggested softly, taking the jacket gently from her hands and guiding her back through the double doors to his parked motorcycle. Amber climbed on behind him and held on tightly, both for safety and to feel him. She pressed her body against his, laid her cheek between his shoulder blades as her hair blew in the wind. He was tense. He didn't know how much she knew, but he had to know that something had changed.

They stopped on the paved path in the woods, and he dragged the vehicle off to the side, out of the way of anyone else who might come by, although the reserve appeared to be deserted. Then Raven folded his arms leaned his back against a tree, and watched her, waiting for her to make the first move.

Amber looked at him for a few long moments, examining him, soaking in the changes that he had gone through in the last hundred years or however long it had really been; the thick black mohawk and the proud posture of the warrior were gone. Her eyes lingered on the scar that marred his hand and on the ones she couldn't see. Raven shifted uncomfortably, and Amber's brown eyes met his.

"I had a dream," she admitted quietly. "I think they were memories. Of us."

For the first time since she met Raven, a small smile touched his lips. More easily now, he reached a hand out and touched her arm, caressed the skin with his thumb.

"I hoped it was you," he replied softly.

Raven pulled Amber in for a deep kiss, arousing a powerful desire that had remained dormant for the last century. It was as if she'd found a half of herself she hadn't known was missing. She knew deep down that she needed to join with him. That was the only chance she had to calm to tumult of emotion within her. But first she needed answers.

She pulled her lips away from Raven's but stayed in his arms, toying with the front of his jacket, refamiliarizing her fingertips with the feel of his torso through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Raven groaned softly, sending carnal urges ripping through Amber's body. But she bit down on her lip. She needed to focus. She needed answers. Raven pushed her tangled waves of auburn hair aside and kissed her neck tenderly, twining his fingers with hers, using the exact moves she'd remembered in her dream, remembering exactly how she liked to be touched, although she'd forgotten a long time ago.

Maybe she just needed one question answered. For now.

"Raven," she stopped him. "I just need to know what happened. What are you now? What were you then?"

Raven sighed, frustrated and clearly not wanting to discuss this as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"I made a mistake. I don't know how much you remember, but I was sent to hunt in an unfamiliar area. There was no food. The land seemed to change. Maybe I was sick, maybe it was a God playing a trick. It took me days to find the village again, and the only meat I had..." Raven stopped.

"The dog." Amber finished softly.

"The dog," he confirmed quietly. "I was desperate. I didn't have the faith in him I should have. And now...he's a part of me. With each moon, he takes over a little more of me."

"So last night..."

"The full moon. Every full moon. Unless he decides otherwise."

"You're a werewolf."

"In layman's terms."

"And he made you kill me."

Raven's body stiffened beneath her touch. His grip on her tightened.

"I tried to fight him. I promise. I tried to fight him. But his anger...He was too powerful."

"I know. I know he was."

Amber's heart clenched painfully in her chest, and she rubbed his arm soothingly. He'd been living with the guilt for all this time. It broke her heart.

"I tried to throw myself into the lake after," he admitted quietly. "But the monster wouldn't have me."

Be sure to check out the other flashers!

Lily Sawyer (m/m)
http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Julie Hayes (m/m)
http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

L. M. Brown (m/m)
http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)
http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Lynn (m/m)
http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/

Pia Valeno (m/m)
http://piaveleno.com/

RJ Scott (m/m)
http://www.rjscott.co.uk/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

Victoria Blisse (m/f)

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/

Pender Mackie (m/m)

http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/

And the winner of the Silver Flash Scavenger Hunt is...

2011-04-28T22:28:00.005-04:00

Loh Ah Mooi!

Congratulations from all of the flashers, Loh! And a big thank you to all of those who participated. You're all absolutely amazing, and we hope you continue to enjoy the Silver Flash Wednesdays.

And who knows? Another contest may pop up sooner than you think!

Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 5"

2011-04-27T00:00:00.005-04:00

Welcome back, folks! This week you'll discover the meaning of the title and the method behind the madness of Raven and Amber's strange relationship. The prompt was "You know what, there's no point to this."

The results of last week's scavenger hunt will be announced by 12:00am EST on Friday, so be sure to check back!

And, lastly, happy birthday to my mama. She's turning the big 5-0 today!

Amber was in the woods again, but instead of a paved road, there were rough dirt paths and wigwams. Raven was there, somewhere, sporting a tall mowhawk and leather legwear. The images were vague, the events dijointed. Somewhere there was a dog, a spirit running through everyone's legs. Someone was angry, yelling, Raven was arguing. What had he done? There was an animal pelt in his hand, but it wasn't anything Amber was familiar with. No raccoon, no deer...What, then? The words "lost...starving...killed...no choice" reached her ears. Tears welled in her eyes for a reason she couldn't explain. Raven was crying, too. Members of the tribe were grabbing their hair and screaming. Then his wet eyes locked on hers.

Memories she couldn't possibly have flashed before her eyes. She and Raven were on the ground in one of the bark-covered structures, lying on pelts, rolling naked in the soft fur. His tender lips kissed her neck, her breasts, her mouth. She'd never felt the kind of pleasure this phantom was giving her now, thrusting into her, grasping her hands, keeping her close, then letting her ride, gasping for air, touching her, bringing her to a powerful climax--they were a single, writhing entity.

Then she was back in the midst of the horrible screams, looking into her lover's eyes as his hands were pulled behind his back by two warriors. The spirit dog stopped in front of Amber, staring at her. She finally got a good look at him. He was some kind of mixed breed, with a long nose, pointed ears, and brown around his eyes. He just looked at her, wisdom in his dark gaze, a powerful anger emanting from his being. Raven's panted struggles drew her eyes away from the animal. The shaman was carving the hourglass symbols into her lover's smooth skin as she watched, marking his hand, shoulder, and thigh. More words, more whispers "Sacrifice...Lake Serpent..." Some wanted to throw him to the monster. The monster that Amber suddenly knew was very real. She remembered. She'd seen it many times.

But they didn't get the chance to make a decision. The shaman was preparing to carve the same hourglass symbol into Raven's cheek when the spirit dog leapt from his place at Amber's feet and charged Raven. Throughout the dream, and even now, Amber remained frozen where she stood. She watched as the spirit disappeared into her lover's body. Then Raven changed. His teeth were sharp, his nails grew into strong claws, and his eyes were the dog's angry eyes. And they locked on Amber once again.

All Amber could do was shake her head. A single, simple movement. She knew everything. Raven was her husband. He'd gone on a hunting trip, gotten lost, begun to starve, and killed his dog. He'd not only failed at his appointed task, he'd committed a forbidden act. The elders made it clear that to kill your dog was to invite its spirit into your body. And, as you had killed your loyal companion, it would kill what was dear to you. Raven broke free from his restraints and charged Amber.

She awoke with a start. Light was just beginning to shine through the dorm room window. Amber put on her spare pair of glasses and glanced over at Jasmine's bed. She was gone. The blond had probably never come home. Amber ran a hand through her hair. She'd changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in, and her eyes landed on the bandage around her calf. The wound stung. She unwrapped the gauze and gazed at the strange markings. I was definitely a bite mark; rows of tiny teeth had punctured her skin, leaving angry red, bloody blotches in their wake. Amber rewrapped the bandage quickly and focused on the clothes that were thrown carelessly over her computer chair. Raven's jacket was among them. She stood, picked it up, and smelled. All of the familiarity she'd experienced in her dreams came rushing back, warm and painful.

How could this be real? How could any of it be real? It wasn't. It couldn't be. Amber changed her clothes, pulled her hair back, and spritzed some body spray quickly across her torso. She just needed to get out of here, away from thoughts of Raven and the insaneness of her situation. But as she left the room, her eyes landed on the jacket again.

"You know what, there's no point to this," she murmured.

There was no ignoring, no denying. She was either out of her mind or she was the reincarnation of Raven's lover. And somehow it made sense for Raven to be haunted by the spirit of his dog, for her to have been a part of him and to still feel like a part of him, even though decades spanned between the last time they'd known one another. She needed to find him and try to figure out where to go from here. Amber grabbed Raven's jacket and slipped out the door.

As always, stop on by and see the other flashers!

Lily Sawyer (m/m)

http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Nicole Dennis (m/m)

http://www.nicoledennis.co.cc/

Julie Hayes (m/m)

http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

L. M. Brown (m/m)

http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)

http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Sui Lynn (m/m)

http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/

Pia Valeno (m/m)

http://piaveleno.com/

RJ Scott (m/m)

http://www.rjscott.co.uk/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)

http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

Guest Blogger: Julie Hayes

2011-04-24T00:00:00.002-04:00

Thanks for joining me on this lovely Easter Sunday, everyone! I've got Julie Lynn Hayes here today discussing her source of inspiration for Leonardo DiCaprio is a Vampire and sharing a touching tribute to Doctor Who's Elisabeth Sladen.

Inspiration is a fun subject for a writer. Discussing what inspired and helped bring their latest creation/child into being is a very satisfying prospect indeed. I’m going to discuss what inspired me to write Leonardo di Caprio is a Vampire. But first I’d like to touch on a different sort of inspiration, also having to do with a child of mine, albeit not a literary one.

When we name our characters, we can draw on a great many things for inspiration, from the people in our lives to the people we wish were in our lives. Literary and cinematic role models often fuel our imaginations when it comes to names. There are mindboggling choices we narrow down into one which defines who our character is. So it is with children. Their names stick with them for all their lives and can very often contribute to who they are and who they become. Over twenty-one years ago, I gave birth to a daughter. At that time, I was heavily influenced by the world of Doctor Who, especially the Fourth Doctor and his companion. I named my daughter Sarah, after that companion, Sarah Jane Smith. Little did I know that years later, not only would she embrace the Doctor Who fandom, she would delve into it with even greater fervor and devotion than myself. Or was it simply meant to be? Did her name help to define her interest, or was the spark that was present in her at the time of her conception lead me to the right name?

Which makes the death of her inspiration difficult to take. I just learned that Elisabeth Sladen, aka Sarah Jane Smith, passed away from cancer. I read a most wonderful loving tribute to her by Fourth Doctor Tom Baker. And although she is gone, I cannot help but feel that a piece of her lives on inside my daughter. That is inspiration at its finest. Rest in peace, Elisabeth. You will be missed.

My inspiration for Leonardo di Caprio is fairly easy to figure out, to some extent—obviously it has something to do with the actor. It happened last year when I took Sarah to see Inception. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to go, but Sarah did, and since she’d been good about going with me to see Sorceror’s Apprentice (twice), I gave in with good grace. As we were going into the movie, I couldn’t help but think about other Leo films I’d seen, which was when a voice in my head told me that Leonardo di Caprio is a Vampire.

Huh?

I’ve learned over the years not to ignore random voices that I hear because they are characters waiting to have their stories told. Not being in a position to write the words down, I held on to them and repeated them to myself throughout the movie. By the time I left the theatre, I knew there two men involved and I needed names. The inspiration for the first name came from the movie Inception itself. Cillian Murphy’s character name was Robert Fisher. That name is heard a lot during the film; it stuck with me. Robert Fisher became Fisher Roberts. On the drive home, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I was looking for inspiration for the second man’s name. I saw a billboard that spoke of hunting. Now I’m not a fan of hunting, but the name Hunter leapt out at me, and I liked it. I added Long to make Hunter Long. It wasn’t til long after that I realized what I had unconsciously done – Hunter and Fisher. Just a coincidence, I assure you, unless it was done on a subconscious level.

Another great source of inspiration is art, and also photography. We see a picture and our fertile minds begin to create a story. If the picture is of a hot sexy man, so much the better. Inspiration is anything that kicks-starts our imaginations and gets our creative juices flowing.

And sometimes inspiration is a tug at our hearts.

Blurb: Leonardo DiCaprio is a Vampire

'Twas the night before Halloween, and Fisher Roberts wishes it was over, not being a fan of this or any other holiday. But he tolerates it because his roommate/best friend Hunter Long takes a childish glee in all things Halloween. And Fisher has a vested interest in keeping Hunter happy. If only he could find the nerve to tell his childhood friend that he loves him, and has for a very long time.

Fisher thinks Hunter is carrying things a bit far this year, though. First Hunter claims to be a vampire, and he just won’t let the silly joke go. Then he forces Fisher to go to a costumed Halloween party which Fisher would rather avoid, especially when he realizes where it’s being held, and whose house it is. Things at Fisher’s job might just be going south, too, when he receives a mysterious summons to report to the editor’s office the next morning. And then Fisher goes and does something stupid—like kissing Hunter!

Bad leads to worse when Fisher ends up at the Halloween party from Hell, and he learns something that threatens to destroy his and Hunter’s relationship forever. Running from his fears, Fisher encounters a strange young man with an unusual resemblance to Leonardo di Caprio, who shows him things he never realized before, truths about his life and the people in it.

Can Fisher find his way back to Hunter, and can he find the courage to do what his heart wishes?

Excerpt: Leonardo DiCaprio is a Vampire

"Did you know that Leonardo di Caprio is a vampire?"

Fisher Roberts stopped in mid-chew of a mouthful of fibrous cereal to cast a wary, disbelieving glance at his best friend and roommate Hunter Long on the other side of the table. Wary, because he wondered what in the world Hunter was going on about so early in the morning. Disbelieving, because he only had so much time for breakfast before he had to get going to work, and he had a bad feeling that Hunter was trying to eat into that time. Why he wanted to do that was beyond Fisher. Of course, a lot of things about his roommate were beyond Fisher, despite the fact that they’d been friends since they were—well, too young to actually remember how long they’d known each other. But for as long as Fisher could remember, he and Hunter had been best buddies. And he’d learned over the years that, with Hunter, longevity did not equate to knowledge-ability, far from it.

Now, Fisher could react in one of two ways. He could ignore his roommate and keep eating. Pretend he’d heard nothing. But from past experience, that would only cause Hunter’s performance to escalate. Which would entail taking more time to decipher what he was saying, and in the process make Fisher even later to work. Or he could simply bow down to the inevitable and give in by asking him the question he was doubtless waiting to hear. Even if it brought about that smug smirk he was so fond of wearing.

Fisher finished chewing, swallowed, and managed not to roll his eyes as he reached for his juice to kill off what was left in the glass. Waste not, want not. "What do you mean?"

Hunter Long might be six foot two and possessed of a body that many a male model would kill for—at least that’s what Fisher heard the girls who flocked around him say—with the palest of blue eyes that twinkled all the time, and a smile that could and did light up a room. But honestly, he had the capacity to be an overgrown child at times, and this was one of those times. Fisher chalked it up to it being that time of year.

"Well," Hunter replied, "look at him, going on forty, and he looks just like he did what, fifteen years ago? It only stands to reason he must be a vampire. They never age, you know. I mean take a look at us. We’re almost his age, but over the years we’ll grow up to be little old men and he’ll still be playing sweet baby-faced guys even when he’s collecting social security, know what I mean?"

"There are no such things as vampires," Fisher made his typical logical reply, "and just because it’s Halloween tomorrow night, and you’ve got the house all decorated for it, doesn’t mean you have to bring it to the table. Know what I mean?" He arched a no-nonsense brow at the other man. This was not Fisher’s favorite time of year. Neither was Christmas, come to think of it. Or any other holiday. Ironic that he should write articles for a living that meant he was forced to expound on such seasonal topics for Midwest Home and Fantasy, a regional online magazine with a growing fan-base, when he had no real interest in them himself, being a practical, no-nonsense kind of a guy.

"I’m a vampire." Hunter smiled, leaning across the table toward Fisher. "Want to see my fangs?"

Click here to get your copy of Leonardo DiCaprio is a Vampire from Silver Publishing today! Be sure to visit Julie's blog for more info on the author and on past/upcoming releases.

Check out the great cover art by Reese Dante!

2011-04-22T17:15:00.005-04:00

I'm so excited about this! It looks amazing! Now I'm even more excited for the release on June 18th. :)

Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 4"

2011-04-20T00:00:00.000-04:00

Hey, all! Welcome back for another fabulous episode of Silver Flash! This week, the prompt was "Wouldn't that be romantic?" Be sure to check out this week's other bloggers, and see the Contests page for a Silver Flash! contest that's running this week.

Amber's brown eyes met Raven's black ones. He seemed perfectly serious. She didn't know what to make of any of any of this. Raven wrapped his jacket around her bare shoulders and tugged it closed in front. He was too familiar, too intimate with her. It was inappropriate and strange and she should have been outraged. But she wasn't. He was caring for her. And in this moment it seemed right somehow.

"I should go," Amber said quietly.

Raven paused, fingers still touching the skin of her neck, sending a shiver through her damp body. Her eyes were wide as she watched him. He didn't seem to want to let her go. She wasn't sure if she was afraid or not...or even if she wanted to be let go.

"You should," Raven agreed.

The splash and hiss sounded again. Amber looked towards the water. Her blurred vision and the moonlight gave everything a dreamlike effect. But she thought she saw something rise up out of the water, long-necked and angry. Another tremble shook her body. Raven's hand moved to her shoulder and tightened its grip, strangely comforting, instinctive, once again feeling too right. Amber's glance found his scars again briefly before meeting his eyes. She didn't want to leave him. She couldn't explain it. Her hand reached up and grasped his hard forearm. She wanted to kiss him. A a strange and sudden desire settled in the pit of her stomach, clenching her heart, taking her breath away. But she couldn't act on it. It didn't make sense.

She released him, and he followed suit. She struggled to stand and squinted, looking at the water once more. The strange creature, if it really had existed, was gone beneath the water again. Amber could make out the bonfire, still burning far away on the opposite shore. Raven remained where he was, squatting on the ground, staring at the rocks and sand. Amber put weight on her injured leg tentatively. It was painful, but not impossible. Raven seemed reminded of her injured state and stood with her, grasping her arm gently, helping her. The touch was electric, confusing.

"I'll take you home," Raven told her.

"How?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he just slid an arm around her waist and guided her away from the shore, into the woods. It wasn't long before they came to a paved road, used by the occasional cyclist. But tonight the only object in view was a motorcycle. This was a bad idea. How could it not be? Hopping on the back of a stranger's motorcycle and riding away with him into the night, after hearing the crazy man talk about monsters, after seeing one for herself. But he got on, revved the engine, and kicked the kickstand out of the way. He waited for Amber to make her decision.

She got on. It was barely a moment before she swung her leg over the rumbling machine, grasped his bare waist tightly, and they were on their way back to...somewhere. If only she could see clearly. Maybe it would help her to make more rational decisions. They were flying through the night now. Where was he taking her? Why was she so trusting? But within five minutes, they were back on campus, in front of the same cafe where she'd first laid eyes on Raven. Her dorm wasn't far. She managed to clumsily dismount, using Raven's hand for support. He didn't let go.

Amber raised her eyes to his once again, and before she realized exactly why or how it happened, her lips were pressed against his, desperate, bringing the heat she was already feeling to the boiling point. His lips were firm but gentle, guiding her movements, gently prying her lips open, tangling her tongue with his. He tasted sweet, like earth and honey. She would have done anything he wanted, but he pulled away and asked for nothing more. Amber didn't understand. She didn't understand what had happened in the lake tonight or why she felt so instantly and intriguingly attached to this man.

"I want to see you again," Raven said.

His eyes were dark, his tone too serious to leave room for indecision. This wasn't how Amber had imagined her love life going. Meeting a dark, scarred stranger who believed in monsters was not in her plan. She'd imagined meeting a handsome, established doctor at a conference who could complement her intelectually. She'd even considered the idea of a philosphizing, misunderstood barista. Wouldn't that be romantic? But not this. Not this danger, this uncertainty. She just didn't understand. Maybe it was the drinking. Maybe she'd lost more blood than she'd realized. Maybe she was hypnotized. In any case, she found herself saying, "You know where to find me," instead of running far, far away.

Raven gazed at Amber for a long moment. He was having a hard time leaving her. She knew because she felt the same way. But Raven gave the bike gas and drove off. Amber stood on the dimly-lit walkway, watching him go, before finally turning and heading for her dorm.

SIlver Flashers

Julie Hayes (m/m)
L. M. Brown (m/m)
Victoria Blisse (m/f)
Lindsay Klug (m/f)
Sui Lynn (m/m)
Lily Sawyer (m/m)
Pender Mackie (m/m)
Nicole Dennis (m/m)
Ryssa Edwards (m/m)
RJ Scott (m/m)

Scavenger Hunt Blogs

2011-04-18T22:30:00.002-04:00

Here they are, folks! Visit them Wednesday and send me your scavenger hunt lists to be entered into the contest.

Julie Hayes (m/m)

http://julielynnhayes.blogspot.com/

Heather Lin (m/f)

http://heatherlin88.blogspot.com/

L. M. Brown (m/m)

http://lmbrownauthor.blogspot.com/

Victoria Blisse (m/f)

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/

Lindsay Klug (m/f)

http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/

Sui Lynn (m/m)

http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/?zx=57a5d3d27a15dbfa

Lily Sawyer (m/m)

http://lilysawyerbooks.blogspot.com/

Pender Mackie (m/m)

http://pendermackie.blogspot.com/

Nicole Dennis (m/m)

http://www.nicoledennis.co.cc/captain-of-the-manor/

Ryssa Edwards (m/m)

http://ryssaedwards.blogspot.com/

RJ Scott (m/m)

http://www.rjscott.co.uk/

Silver Flash Scavenger Hunt!

2011-04-18T10:46:00.005-04:00

Hey, everyone! I've organized a little contest for all of you Silver Flash! readers out there. This Wednesday, April 20th, list this week's participating authors and the names of their main characters, e-mail them to me here, and you'll be entered to win this fabulous prize package:

One travel bottle of Bath & Bodyworks Sensual Amber bodywash and Sensual Amber lotion from Heather Lin

One bookthong from Lindsay Klug

Homemade bath bombs from Victoria Blisse

One ebook from RJ Scott

One ebook from Lily Sawyer

One ebook from Pender Mackie

One ebook from Julie Hayes

One ebook from LM Brown

One ebook from Xavier Axelson

The deadline for entries is 11:59pm EST on Tuesday, April 26th, and the drawing will take place on Thursday, April 28th with the winner being announced right here by midnight on Friday, April 29th. We hope you'll join us! :)

Guest Blogger: Joyee Flynn (with a contest!)

2011-04-17T00:00:00.001-04:00

Hello and welcome to a lovely Sunday with Joyee Flynn and one hot M/M excerpt! Keep reading to learn more about her caffeine addiction, themes in her writing, and even some advice for all of you aspiring writers out there. Joyee is also holding an exciting contest!: Comment to enter in to win the first book in an exciting new series from Joyee Flynn-My Maven, My Everything. Contest runs till April 18th and winner to be announced in comment section of post.

How long have you been an author?

I was first published May 2010

What's the one thing you can't write without?

Caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine.

Where do you find inspiration?

My dreams or nightmares, believe it or not. A lot of times I have some crazy dream that develops into something I can use in a story and I just run with it after I mull it over.

Do you have a favorite place to write?

Curled up on my couch with my laptop. It's comfortable even if I get stiff sitting that way and pup can come put his head on my knee every so often to offer support.

Do your stories tend to have a recurring theme? If so, what is it?

Yes, several actually but I have two main ones that readers can see often in my books.

1-Bigger isn't always better or stronger. I like to show that size isn't always reflected in the character of a person. Sometimes my smallest characters are the ones who are the physically strongest along with mentally and emotionally.

2-No matter who you are or your background, everyone has a breaking point. And I truly believe that. I don't follow the stereotypes that real men don't cry and a strong person can handle anything. That's just bullshit to me. I've seen some of the most manly, strong men I've ever known break down and cry when they experience tragedy or loss and it doesn't make them weak. It makes them human. Emotions to me aren't male or female and everyone has that line that once crossed just falls under too much to handle without cracking.

What books and/or writers have inspired you?

That's a LONG list. I'm a very eclectic reader, though I do tend to stay in fiction. Dante's Inferno is a big one. I love the idea that Hell isn't just Hell and Heaven isn't always Heavenly. Anne Rice is another one. My dog's named after one of her characters, Marius, after all. Laurell Hamilton's Anita Blake series takes the cake to me for originality and breaking molds. I'm all about pushing boundaries and reading authors like her shows me that I'm not the only one. And Charlaine Harris who I'd love to be when I'm all grown up. She's another one who doesn't write within the preset ideas of characters. The woman writes some bad ass fairies that don't make you think Tinkerbelle.

Do you have any weird writing habits?

Yes, I time myself. I know, that's one most people don't hear. After about forty-five minutes my hands and wrist start cramping from a college injury. So I have my little timer where ever I'm working and finish the sentence I was writing when it beeps. Then I take about a ten minute break, get up, stretch, let the pup out, throw some laundry in, or other chores that bring me back to the real world for a while. And it helps me plot out where the story's going when I sit back down for the next round of writing.

What advice would you give to any aspiring writers that might be reading this?

Run. Run far away… okay, not really. But think about it very hard if this is a career you can handle. There is a LOT more to being an author than I would ever have thought. And while I love it and wouldn't give it up for any other job in the world, I do wish I'd been better prepared for what I would have to face daily. I work 80-90 hour work weeks and maybe 35-40% of that is writing time. There's about 1k emails a day I have to filter through, read, and figure out which ones I need to reply to. And not all of them are very nice. Hell, some are just downright mean at times. But then there are the ones that are great and have me tearing up that my work has touched someone or gotten them through a rough patch in their life. And that's all any author wants, that their story took the reader out of reality for a while and gave them a good time. Being an author is a roller coaster, from the reviews, to the edits, to release days sitting on the edge of your seat waiting to see how your newest book is going to do. So I would say that any aspiring author understand that before submitting any manuscript. This is not a profession you can wade into, it's jumping in the deep end and seeing if you sink or swim.

Blurb: My Maven, My Everything

Madden "Mad" Forrest is a Son of Thanatus, a secret order rumored to be descended from gods. The members possess the ability to hear the souls of the dead and travel the country speaking for those without a voice and helping to lay them to rest. After a particularly stressful job Mad heads to New Orleans and picks up a hot twink in the hotel bar.

Josh McGreggor is out for a night of pleasure before heading off to a new job. The perfect man who invites him over to his table is answer to his desires. What neither expected was the strength of their feelings after one night's passion or that they don't want to part in the light of day.

Can the two men navigate through the minefield that arises from their roles to find love or will they be destined to continue their lives all alone?

The Tame Excerpt: My Maven, My Everything

“And people wonder why I demand witnesses,” I grumbled to myself as I ran my fingers through my shoulder-length black hair. I knew I was so going to tie one off when I got back to my hotel room after this shit.

“Fuck you!” Mike made a lunge for me, but I stepped to the side as Tim grabbed his arm. “You’re just a fucking nut job who thinks he sees dead people! Next you’re going to tell us that you can talk to them, too.”

“No he’s not, Boyle,” Chief Handly said calmly as he joined us with Officer Sanchez right behind him. “I called him in here. Are you questioning my orders and ability to be a cop?”

“No, sir.” Mike got himself under control then as Handly gave him a nod and then waved me to follow him. We walked about twenty feet away before the Chief turned to stare daggers at me. He was shorter than me, but only by a few inches. I was six-six, which helped people not fuck with me often, given what I did.

“Start talking, Forrest.”

“I need to know a few things before I risk you killing me for what I’m about to tell you,” I said slowly, eyeing the man over. He raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest before giving me a nod. “How did you find out about me, or I guess who to contact for help?”

“A buddy of mine who works for the FBI. He and I served together in the Army years ago. When I told him about my missing officer, he told me who to contact and what you guys did. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I’m buying what you can do. But if he believes it, and he’s one jaded son of a bitch, I’m willing to take a leap of faith.”

“Did he tell you that we can do more than just find a body?”

“Yeah,” Handly answered slowly, his eyes starting to go wide. “He said you can hear the last thought the person had before they died. Something like the soul repeats it over and over and cannot rest until it’s heard.”

“That’s about right,” I said, rubbing my hands over my face in frustration. “How long have you had Mike Boyle in your department, Chief?”

“A long time. Are you getting at what I think you are?”

“Yeah, and it’s not just Garrett over there, it’s his wife, too.”

“Why would Boyle—” Chief started to ask but then cut himself off. “He was banging Garrett’s wife, wasn’t he? Did Garrett find out?”

“Garrett walked in on them, and Boyle killed them both so he didn’t lose his plush life when his wife divorced him. I guess she’s got a nice prenup.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Handly swore, his voice rising in volume each time. “I can’t prove this off of what you’re saying, Madden.”

“No, but it gives you a step in the right direction on how to solve it. And it also makes me think I’m his planned scapegoat. So that’s why I asked Sanchez to get you in here.”

“You didn’t tell any of them where you were staying, right? You got a hotel in a different town?”

“I always get one at least a county over. As soon as I show you, I’m getting the hell out of dodge,” I answered firmly. This wasn’t my fight, and I wanted no part in it. I was about to do what I was sent here for, and only that. “You ready for this?”

“No, but let’s do it anyways.” I felt bad for the Chief. This was a mess I wouldn’t want to clean up either. He suddenly looked older as he shook his head and turned to walk back to his men. I followed him, feeling the urge to help the two poor murdered souls get stronger the longer I was around.

Once we got back to the group, I took the lead and led them to Garrett and his wife. As soon as they were visible, Mike made his move and launched at me. He was lucky that Meyers stepped in because I had no problem laying the asshole out. And again, with what I do, knowing how to defend myself was a must. I had black belts in several forms of martial arts, and also was as an accomplished marksman.

“Sanchez, escort Madden back to his car,” the Chief ordered as he and Meyers restrained Boyle. He turned to me then. “I’ll be in touch. Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied with a solemn nod. We didn’t get paid for what we did from law enforcement or most people who contacted us. It was more a trade of favors. The Chief knew if one of our people was ever falsely accused of a murder when we were called in, he’d be asked to step in and attest to what we could do. It wasn’t blackmail or asking for the police to be in our pockets. It was about having credible references.

“I don’t know how you did what you just did, or what the fuck is really going on,” Sanchez said as we got to my car. He stuck out his hand for me to shake. “But thank you. Garrett was a good guy, and no one deserves to just get dumped like a bag of trash like that.”

“I agree. It’s why I do what I do.” I shook his hand and got in my rental car. I know it might seem cold to find two murdered people and leave like that. But given everything that was going on with Boyle being involved, I wanted to get the fuck out of there for self-preservation.

The Wild Excerpt: My Maven, My Everything

“Do you want me to roll over?” Josh asked me moments later after I’d slicked up my hand and cock and was rubbing my fingers against his hole. “How do you want me?”

“I want to see you,” I answered, shocking myself down to my very core. It was a very intimate position, one I normally shied away from. But I wanted to see the gorgeous man, not just close my eyes and fuck him. “And then you’re going to ride me later. And then I’m going to figure out a way to play how you want without handcuffs.”

“Three times? You can go three times in one night?” He gasped and then moaned as I pushed a finger in. “I like the burn. I like a little pain.”

“Good to know,” I replied before latching back onto his nipple and biting down hard. “And I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

“Personally, I think we should go for four rounds. We started early. it’s only after ten.”

“Whatever you want, baby.” I slid a second finger as I squeezed his ass hard and went back to torturing his nipples. They seemed to be a major hot spot for him because he went wild under me.

“So close, I’m so fucking close.” Josh groaned as I quickly stretched him out.

“Do you want to come now or while I’m fucking you?”

“Both. I recover quickly,” he begged. I angled my fingers to rub over his sweet spot as I scissored them back and forth. Staring at his face, I thrust into him harder and faster. Josh’s eyes went wide a second before he threw back his head and arched his back, screaming as he came. I almost froze in shock as I witnessed the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Part of me wanted to grieve because one night with Josh was not enough.

“Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” I groaned as I slid in a third finger and made fast work of opening him up. His orgasm was just starting to ebb as he was ready for me. I pulled my fingers out of his hole and he moaned quietly and just that was almost enough to have me coming. As quickly as I could, I tore open a condom and rolled it on, wishing desperately that I could ride his sweet ass bareback. “Are you ready for me, baby?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Josh gasped and pulled his knees to his chest. “Hard and fast, my Greek god, hard and fast.”

“Why Greek?” I had to ask as I lined up my cock to his pretty pink hole.

“Long dark hair, olive skin, tall and muscular with deep, dark eyes? Yeah, you scream that you’re from Greece or European.” He snickered. He was fairly accurate. My lineage did date back to Roman times, but that really made me more Italian than anything.

“Glad you like.” I didn’t give him time to reply, pushing my cock in his ass instead. Sweet hell, he felt like nirvana. The further I pushed into him, the more I never wanted to leave his tight hold. We both moaned as I bottomed out inside of him, and he wrapped his legs around my hips.

“I’ve never been this full.” Josh gasped as he ran his hands up my arms. “Just how big are you? I didn’t get a chance to really look.”

I leaned over him further, pushing more of my cock inside of him as I went to answer. “Over ten inches. Us Greek gods have big cocks.”

“I can tell.” Just to feed my ego, I pulled out and thrust back into him hard. Josh gasped, smiling and squeezing the muscles in his ass. I knew it was his own way to drive me insane, and it worked.

“You want it hard and fast right?” I asked, silently begging that he wasn’t just teasing me.

“Oh yeah, pound that meat into my ass so I can feel you all week.”

I groaned at the image of him walking funny tomorrow from my being inside of him tonight. Then I took him at his word, fucking him harder than I can ever remember having sex before. Josh made the prettiest sounds while I slammed into his hole over and over again.

“Come for me right now,” I growled when I got close. I grabbed his cock and started stroking him in time with my thrusts. “I want your cum.”

“Fuck!” He cried out as he came, arching his back as his eyes fluttered. I’d never found makeup attractive on a man before, but on Josh it accented his features so perfectly that it made my mouth water. The second his ass clamped down on my cock, I followed him over, roaring out my orgasm as I thrust inside of him.

“I’m so glad you accepted my invitation.” I chuckled in his ear minutes later as I started to come back down from my orgasm.

“You’ve still not accepted mine.” He purred and thrust his hips up. “I’ve offered to let you tie me down and blow you on my knees.”

“Which do you want first?” I groaned as I pulled out of him. I left him to think it over as I took care of the condom in the bathroom and cleaned myself up. Normally I would have cleaned up my partner as well, but we were far from done for the night. I gasped as I came back to the bedroom and walked into another breathtaking sight. Josh was on his knees next to the bed, still naked as he eyed me over like I was his own personal wet dream.

“I figure I should get you hard again if I’m demanding more sex.” He winked up at me.

Click here to get your copy of My Maven, My Everything from Siren Publishing today! Be sure to visit Joyee's website for more info on the author and on past/upcoming releases. And don't forget to comment for your chance to win!

Silver Flash!: "Death of a Dog, Pt. 3"

2011-04-13T00:00:00.002-04:00

Welcome back, everyone! This week Ryssa was super nice and gave us the choice of two prompts. ;) I chose "What's that noise?"

Amber was sure she'd die. She could see nothing but the moonlight fading fast above her. Then, the pressure on her leg released, strong arms wrapped around her bare waist, and she was pulled back to the surface. She gasped for air as her head broke through the water. Her glasses were gone; her world was abstract. At first, she thought Ash had come back for her after all, but she quickly realized the figure on the shore hadn't been in her imagination. A very strong, very naked man was swimming her to shore. She couldn't quite see his face. Relief mixed with a new fear in her mind.

Amber's body hit the shore, and she crawled onto the rocky beach. The man's arms were still around her, supporting her as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was shaking, and, with the adrenaline leaving her body, pain erupted in her leg. She gritted her teeth and bore it without a sound. She had three older brothers. She'd learned a long time ago to never cry uncle.

Then, squinting in the moonlight, she saw it. The same scar on the palm of this man's hand as she'd seen on the man in the cafe. She lifted her blurred vision to his face and found the same dark eyes. He was unsmiling, eyes narrowed, suspicion etched in his every feature. What was he doing here? Who was he? Why was he naked in the woods at night, staring across a lake at a college party?

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back so that she was sitting on her butt. His grip was powerful, sending a jolt through Amber as her body complied to his will. Her injured leg stretched straight out across the ground. Fear sreaked through Amber's veins. She would never be able to fight him. But even as he held her fast, he didn't seem to have any intention of harming her, only questioning her.

"How did you know?" he asked sharply, holding her arm in one hand and pushing her dripping hair aside with the other, examining her face, searching for...something.

"How did I know what?" she answered timidly.

"My name."

"I don't."

"You said it. You called for me. How did you know?"

Amber's eyes were wide. This man was crazy.

"I don't...I don't remember. I was scared. I just...I saw you..."

"And you yelled my name."

Amber searched her brain desperately, trying to satisfy this man's questions so he would just let her go. But pain and exhaustion muddled her mind. She glanced at her leg for the first time, but all she saw was a red blur. She couldn't tell how hurt she was. And she didn't know what had hurt her. The man followed her gaze, and his concentration moved immediately to her blurry, bloody leg.

"Shit," he muttered.

Without a word, he ran into the woods. Amber was left alone. But she didn't move. She didn't know how to get back to the other shore, she couldn't see, her leg ached. So she just sat there, in too-short shorts and a ridiculously pink bra. Had the man left her there? Was she free from him? She couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Then she heard something, coming from the water. A great splashing and a long, low hiss. A chill ran down her spine.

She wished the man would come back. And a moment later, he did. He knelt down by her leg. The splash and hiss sounded again.

"What's that noise?" Amber asked breathlessly, fear making it difficult for her to speak.

"The lake monster."

Amber stared at the vague shape of a man in front of her. He must be joking. And what exactly was he doing down there? He'd donned a pair of jeans, and the sudden flash of pain through her body told her he'd just tied his shirt around her wound. Yes. He was definitely crazy. But her fear of the unknown, of being stuck there alone, outweighed her fear of him. He came close to her, remaining shirtless, holding the military-style jacket she'd seen earlier in his hand.

"Now answer me," he demanded. "You shouted my name. You shouted 'Raven' across the water."

"Raven," she whispered, as the faint memory resurfaced. "I don't know how I knew."

He stared at her for a long time. Was he angry? She was telling the truth. It must have been a lucky guess. All she knew was that the experience had been something like a dream where her life should have been flashing before her eyes.

"You're the girl from earlier. From the coffee shop," he observed.

Amber nodded. Raven grasped her hair again, moving it aside again, examining her face again, smelling her scent, if she wasn't mistaken. She wasn't sure how to react, so she didn't. But as he occupied the intimate space, she was able to see another hourglass scar, identical to the one on his hand, on his shoulder.

"What is that?" she whispered.

"A warning."

"Of what?"

"Another type of monster."

As always, be sure to check out the other flashers!

Lindsay Klug (M/F) Victoria Blisse (M/F) Pia Veleno (M/M) Rj Scott (M/M) Julie Hayes (M/M) Lily Sawyer (M/M) Sui Lynn (M/M) Pender Mackie (M/M) Ryssa Edwards (M/M)

Guest Blogger: Berengaria Brown

2011-04-10T00:00:00.002-04:00

Happy Sunday, everyone! Joining me today is my first guest blogger, Berengaria Brown. She's got a sexy excerpt for you and a fun blog about recurring themes in her work. I have to admit I'm pretty jealous of all of her travel adventures, and I'm sure you'll enjoy reading about them and how they influence her work as much as I did. :)

Do your stories tend to have a recurring theme? If so, what is it?

My books seem to have several recurring themes: China, vacations, water, and gardens.

"Changing Cherry", "Chinese Love Triad", and "Terracotta Warriors" (releasing 30 March) are all set in China. I have spent some time in China on business and love their centuries of tradition, the polite, helpful people, their beautiful country. Also, I write a lot of two men/one woman ménages, and in a country with many millions more young men than women, because of their one-child policy, such ménages make excellent sense.

Everyone loves a vacation and vacations leave time for people to discover more about each other, spend long hours having fun together (in and out of bed) and are a great way to move the story forward. "Summer Sizzle", "Vivienne’s Vacation", "Huldah’s Two Hikers", "Three for the Road", and "Double Satisfaction" are all set during vacations. "Combustion", and "Flash Flood", include mini-vacations.

As for water and gardens, my characters love the beach, lakes, the countryside. The "Sex Odyssey" series is set in Resort City, a beachside town. "Dance for Three" has a hot beach scene, "Summer Sizzle" is set at the beach, and the heroine in "Flash Flood" gets caught in a tidal wave. "Tempting Tenealle" involves a courtyard garden, the gardens in "Double Satisfaction" are purely awesome, and "Huldah’s Two Hikers" is set on a hike through a national park.

My newest release, is "Strung Tight" the final book in the "Sex Odyssey" series. Jeff lives in the trailer Park at Resort City and Pete arrives there as a tour guide with a group of very demanding clients.

Blurb: Strung Tight

After a scorching night of sex and sin, two men need to make a decision in their lives.

Jeff works nights playing guitar at a strip club. Pete works days as a tour guide. Neither man is happy and both search for fulfillment. Can they find it in each other’s arms?

While the sex is great, and the orgasms body shaking, how can their relationship survive if they’re separated by time? Surrendering to wild emotions is easy. Real life is messy but the fight for love is worth it.

EXCERPT: Strung Tight

The two men gazed into each other’s eyes. Lust exploded like a visible force, and Jeff took two hurried paces to close the gap between them. Pete stepped into Jeff’s embrace and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s waist, lifting his face for a kiss.

Jeff gently pressed his lips to Pete’s, then swiped his tongue along the seam of the blond’s mouth. He opened and Jeff slid his tongue inside, enjoying Pete’s taste of coffee and mints and something spicy.

He trailed his tongue behind Pete’s teeth, and along the insides of his cheeks, then tangled it with the blond’s in an erotic dance, before sucking his tongue into his mouth.

They didn’t break the kiss until both of them were breathless. Even then Jeff nibbled on Pete’s lower lip and ran his hands up and down the man’s spine, wanting to get closer, needing to be inside him, right now, but not wanting to seem to be rushing or coercing the blond.

Jeff pulled Pete’s shirt up, stroking the soft skin, loving the feel of muscles and bones and sinews moving under his touch. "Take it off," he whispered hoarsely.

"You too. I liked the look of your chest in the club."

They broke apart a few inches and shed their shirts. Jeff took Pete’s hand and led him to the end of the trailer where he sank onto the sofa and pulled Pete onto his lap. Teasingly, Pete rubbed his ass across Jeff’s cock, making him groan. "If you keep that up I’ll get zipper burn!"

Pete stood up. "Well, take your pants off. I’d like to see your cock."

"Together. We’ll take them off together," replied Jeff, standing as well.

It took Jeff a few minutes to get his boots and socks off and Pete watched him. Pete had bare feet inside his loafers, so that part of the program had taken him all of one second.

They stood facing each other, hands on belts, and, like the dancers in the strip club, they slowly undid their belts, pulled them out of the loops, dropped them to the floor, then unzipped.

Pete remained still and watched as Jeff spread the fly of his jeans wide, displaying dark blue briefs. He put his hands on his hips and nodded to Pete.

Pete’s pants were a lot looser than the jeans Jeff was wearing. Just as he’d hoped, when Pete opened them, the pants slid to the floor, leaving him in his tighty whiteys.

Jeff pushed his jeans down his legs and stepped out of them, then hooked a finger in one side of his briefs. Pete mirrored his actions, stepping out of his pants and sliding the underwear down an inch or two on one side.

Turning forty-five degrees, Jeff slid his briefs off his butt, leaving it exposed, but his cock covered. He turned his head over his shoulder, watching to see what Pete would do next.

Pete turned his back to him, dropped his underwear to the floor, pushed his ass out, and bent his knees, displaying his puckered rosette for Jeff. It was the sexiest ass Jeff had ever seen, the hole a deep pink, beckoning him to sink his aching dick in it. Below the yummy anus, in the gap between Pete’s legs, his balls hung, and Jeff had to lick his lips and swallow hard, they looked so delicious. He couldn’t wait to get them in his mouth.

But wait? Was that the edge of a tattoo showing on the inside of Pete’s thigh? God! What other treasures was the blond hiding? And he had a little secret yet to display himself. "Turn around," he ordered, hoping not to sound as needy as he felt.

"Drop your pants and we’ll turn together," suggested Pete, his voice alive with laughter.

Jeff turned his back on the other man, pulled off his underwear, and looked over a shoulder, resting one hand lightly across his hot, hard cock. Pete had straightened up and was looking across at him.

Jeff couldn’t help a huge grin spreading across his face. This man was perfect for him. Hell, he hadn’t had this much fun in a year, and they weren’t even in bed yet!

"On the count of three. One."

"Two."

"Three!" they both called together turning to face each other.

It was a tattoo! A swirling tribal pattern, spiraling and twisting and turning from the upper inside of Pete’s left thigh, across his groin and lower belly, to just below his bellybutton. It was a maze of black and blue and red lines, an intricate, yet clean, pattern that drew his gaze unerring to the man’s cock. And what a beautiful cock it was. Red and thick and long, pre-cum already beading in the slit of a fat, flat head he couldn’t wait to suck. "Very nice," he managed to say.

Pete’s gaze was glued to Jeff’s cock. He didn’t even look up when he said, "I’ve always wondered what one of those would feel like inside me. It’s a Prince Albert piercing isn’t it? Damn but I’ve hit the jackpot tonight."

"I aim to make sure you’ll come harder than you’ve ever come before," said Jeff, pulling Pete into his arms and rubbing their cocks together.

Pete lifted his face to be kissed, wrapping his arms around Jeff’s waist and rubbing his nipples across Jeff’s chest. When they broke apart from kissing, Pete whispered, "I don’t think I can wait any longer. I need you inside me, now."

"That’s what I want, too."

Click here to get your copy of Strung Tight at Evernight Publishing today! And be sure to visit Berengaria's blog and website for more info on the author and on past/upcoming releases.

Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog: Pt. 2"

2011-04-06T00:00:00.006-04:00

Welcome back for another round! This week's prompt was "That will come back to haunt you." Enjoy!

Party central was one mile from the college. Jasmine's friend, Tara, threw them on the rocky shore of a wide lake that was hidden from view by a dense forest. Amber and Jasmine arrived together. The bonfire made the whole shore glow, flickering off of the deep water and beer bottles. Jasmine had convinced Amber to put on her shortest denim shorts, but she wore a long-sleeved shirt and kept her auburn hair straight and free; she didn't have the patience for curling irons. The girls sat down with a few friends from their classes. Amber knew Ash from History, and he handed her a beer.

"Hey, Amber," he greeted.

"Hey, Ash."

"Want a cig?"

"No, thanks."

"Prude."

"Ass."

They clinked their beers together and drank. It didn't take long for Jasmine to end up in some boy's lap; another couple formed across from her. Amber felt awkward. She couldn't just throw herself at someone like that. She glanced over at Ash, and he winked. She smiled politely and finished her beer. Then she stood.

"Do you want another?"

"Sure."

Ash grinned; his body language was tense, hopeful. Amber considered the option for a moment. Ash was quite good-looking, actually. Blond hair, blue eyes...He played some kind of sport. What was it? Lacrosse? Maybe. Amber reached into a cooler and grabbed two bottles.

But Ash had no idea what he wanted. Not many of her friends did. Amber was the odd one out. She was studying Psychology. After she graduated, there would be graduate school, and then she'd work under a reputable psychologist and eventually open her own practice. Men were in there, of course. Somewhere. But it would take someone special to make her look twice. Someone interesting.

Her mind flitted to the man from the college café before she could stop it. What was it about him? He was so attractive, so intriguing, but so...not dangerous, exactly, but certainly not safe. Amber told herself he'd only entered her brain as an example of someone she would never be interested in.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped. It was Ash, cigarette in hand.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Daydreaming. Here you go." She handed him the beer and touched his cigarette lightly with her index finger. "That will come back to haunt you, you know."

"So they tell me." He took a puff and blew it out again. "I like you, you know."

"I know."

"Oh." He seemed taken aback.

Amber blushed. That hadn't been the right response. "Um, sorry, I'm just...focusing on school right now."

"Prude."

"Ass."

Amber smiled, and they clinked bottles. The mood was light again.

"Hey, do you...want to go for a swim?"

Amber looked from Ash to the water. The idea of swimming at night had never really occurred to her. She supposed it was warm enough, but she hadn't brought any swim wear. Ash was grinning. She could do it. She could be spontaneous. And it might help to make up for the fact she just rejected him.

"Okay."

"Cool."

Ash threw his cigarette down and stomped on it. Then he tossed his keys down beside the cooler and peeled off his shirt. His shoes and sneakers came off next. Amber hesitated, then pulled off her shirt and tossed her slip-ons aside. It wasn't much different than wearing a bikini, and she left her shorts and glasses on. She wasn't planning on going under water, after all. She glanced around. No one seemed to be paying much attention. People were playing volleyball or roasting marshmallows or making out. Ash took her hand and tugged, encouraging her to join him in the water. She waded. He dove in.

Germs. Germs were on her mind. What exactly was in this water? Algae could carry E. Coli, couldn't it? But Ash pulled her down, laughing and splashing, and she let go of her reservations. The water was cool, refreshing against her skin. She and Ash had known one another for a year, and while they didn't talk often, conversation was free and easy when they did. Amber began to backstroke, pushing herself along. The full moon shone on the surface. Ash splashed her, and she swam after him.

Before she knew it, they were far from shore, and she couldn't find the bottom of the lake with her feet. The sensation was terrifying and exhilerating all at the same time. Ash shook the water out of his hair. Amber's glasses were wet; she could barely see. But she could feel. Strong arms grabbed her around the waist. She thought Ash was just goofing around, but then his lips pressed down on hers. Amber struggled and finally managed to break free, swimming clumsily away. Ash grabbed her again. Fear and anger erupted in her heart, and she smacked him.

"Cut it out!" she shrieked.

"Ow! Dammit, Amber. You're such a bitch."

Ash rubbed his face and headed back to shore. Amber watched him go as best she could through her foggy lenses. She should have known the swim wasn't as innocent as it had seemed. She was upset, embarrassed. She wasn't ready to follow him back yet. She kept herself afloat, anxiety burning in her chest.

But Amber's problem quickly became insignificant. Something brushed against her leg beneath the water. The depths remained dark, even with the full moon shining. Before she could decide whether or not to be afraid, something snapped closed on her calf and tugged, trying to pull under the surface. Panic was at the forefront of Amber's mind, making her dizzy, near fainting. She thrashed wildly, struggling against the insistent weight.

Through her terror, she caught a glimpse of the opposite shore and what she thought was the tall, naked figure of a man. Moisture dripped from her glasses. It could easily have been an illusion. But she screamed the first name that came into her terrified mind. It just seemed right somehow.

"Raven!"

Then she was pulled under.

More next week! Be sure to check out the other flashers! Julie Hayes (m/m) Sui Lynn (m/m) RJ Scott (m/m) L. M. Brown (m/m) Lindsay Klug (m/f) Pender Mackie (m/m) Ryssa Edwards (m/m)

Perhaps running late is a condition...

2011-04-03T09:33:00.002-04:00

But I can explain! I just started working again. So now it's a matter of balancing work and art instead of...the couch and art? In any case, my addition to Lisabet Sarai's excerpt festival appeared yesterday on her blog! It's a promo for Scandal (one of the last, I fear, since I'll soon have two new ebooks to focus on). So go ahead and check it out, guys! Remember, the person with the most comments during the festival gets some yummy free books to read. ;)

Silver Flash!: "The Death of a Dog, Pt. 1"

2011-03-30T00:00:00.008-04:00

Guess who's back in flash! This week's prompt was to use the words "highlighter, hourglass, and coffee mug." I'm gonna be honest, here: I'm not sure how I like the title yet. But I have big plans for this one, so be sure to tune in for the next few weeks!

"And then a formal fallacy is a non sequitur which means that the premise and the conclusion are somehow disconnected. So a false dichotomy could be considered a formal fallacy, right?"

There was no answer. Amber glanced up from her textbook to find Jasmine running a blue highlighter through her pale blond hair, leaving a colorful streak, probably unaware that her friend had spoken at all.

"What are you doing?" Amber asked, exasperated.

"It's for the party tonight. Doesn't it look cool?" Jasmine smiled and flipped her long locks for effect.

Amber rolled her eyes and closed the textbook. Jasmine had managed to focus on schoolwork for approximately ten minutes, but Amber never really expected to study when Jasmine called her down to the college coffee shop for it. She toyed with her coffee mug for a moment before lifting the warm liquid to her lips and taking a sip. Jasmine checked her reflection in a compact mirror, then snapped it shut and leaned in towards her friend. She snatched the eyeglasses from Amber's nose and put them on herself.

"So are you coming tonight?" she asked, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue.

Amber had to squint a little to see her friend clearly.

"I don't know. I guess."

"Good." Jasmine slid the thick frames down her nose, her attention caught by something behind Amber.

Amber grabbed her glasses back and turned. She should have known. It was a cute guy. But even as she tried to be flippant about her friend's hormones, she found her gaze lingering. He wasn't just cute. He was beautiful, with short dark hair, black eyes, and smooth, olive skin. A ripped military-style jacket complimented his linebacker build. But something seemed off about him. He didn't seem like he belonged there.

The man's eyes shot up, meeting Amber's before she could turn back to Jasmine.

"I'm inviting him to the party," Jasmine whispered, primping her temporarily-colored hair and standing.

Amber caught her arm.

"Don't, Jasmine. He seems...old. Too old to be here."

"It's called a non-traditional student, Amber, and they need love, too."

She grinned and walked over to the man. Amber watched the exchange. It was painful. The man was clearly not interested, and Jasmine was making an ass out of herself, flirting and bending over so he could see down her shirt. He didn't even look. But as Jasmine finally gave up and walked back towards the table, the strange man's eyes found Amber's once more. She couldn't decipher his expression. She turned her attention back to Jasmine.

"Ugh. Total bust," her friend said, plopping back down in her seat and crossing her arms. "I practically told him I'd bang him if he came tonight and nothing. Must be gay."

"He's creepy, anyway. Let's just go."

"Good plan! I need to pick out an outfit. Then I'll come by your dorm and help you pick yours."

They both gathered their things and stood. Amber took a moment to down the rest of her coffee, but before they made it any farther, the strange man stood to leave. He passed right by them. Amber felt a shiver run down her spine. The musky scent of man and a strange, earthy scent reached her nostrils. She tried to keep her gaze low; the last thing she wanted to do was look into those dark eyes again.

Instead, her eyes landed on his large left hand and an even more unsettling sight: a crude tattoo in the shape of an hourglass was carved into the man's palm. Something about that scared her more than anything so far. No sane person would do that to themselves. They began walking in the opposite direction.

Amber hoped she'd never see him again.

As always, folks, be sure to check out the other flashers!

RJ Scott M/M

LM Brown M/M

Victoria Blisse M/F

Lily Sawyer M/M

Julie Hayes M/M

Pender Mackie M/M

Sui Lynn M/M

Ryssa Edwards M/M

Pia Veleno M/M

Lindsay Klug M/F

Diane Adams M/M

A day late, but...

2011-03-24T14:06:00.005-04:00

Lisabet Sarai is hosting authors on her Beyond Romance blog for the next month! Each day is devoted to a different author (look for me on April 2nd), and the best part is there are PRIZES! The person who posts the most comments will win one copy of the three books that Lisabet currently has in print. Second prize is one print book and third prize is an ebook. She's a great author who I had the pleasure of appearing in Coming Together: Al Fresco with. I'm also a fan of the Oh Get a Grip! blog, which she regularly contributes to.

In short, check it out! :)

Silver Flashers!

2011-03-23T10:02:00.003-04:00

Hey, all. I've had an extremely busy week, so I'm sitting this one out. But I encourage you to check out all of the other great flashers!

RJ Scott M/M
LM Brown M/M
Victoria Blisse M/F
Lily Sawyer M/M
Julie Hayes M/M
Pender Mackie M/M
Sui Lynn M/M
Ryssa Edwards M/M
Pia Veleno M/M

Stalking Amazon.com...

2011-03-18T22:36:00.003-04:00

Gotta Have It: 69 Stories of Sudden Sex has been getting some AMAZING reviews on Amazon.com! The reviewers tend to cite their favorite stories, and, like any hopeful writer, I've been waiting for my name to appear. And it did!

Jennifer L. Lopez stated that "The first story, Seven-Letter Word by Heather Lin, is fun and sexy, and it sets the tone so that you won't want to put the book down after just one story. "

elseinw mentioned the story, too, saying "'Seven Letter Word' gets things off to a quick start with a special kind of room service."

I still can't express just how excited I am to be included in this anthology. If you haven't checked it out yet, follow this link!

Silver Flash!: "Tie a Yellow Ribbon...Pt. 2"

2011-03-16T00:00:00.024-04:00

I'm back this week with the second part of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon..." This week's prompt was "Don't look at me like that." And, since I have the attention span of a three-year-old, this will probably be the last time we see Anthony and Rhonda for a while.

But I promise they go out with a bang. ;)

Anthony glanced around the apartment. There was secondhand furniture and a few knick knacks he remembered from the apartment Rhonda had lived in before his arrest. All of Anthony's things were still in storage. But the apartment was clean and homey--everything they'd wanted it to be.

He sat at the tiny table in the tiny kitchen with a cup of coffee in front of him, made just the way he liked it. Rhonda's back was to him as she made grilled cheese in a frying pan. Her shoulders were slumped. Guilt poured down in torrents. This had been hard for her. Of course it had. All he wanted was to provide a life for them, and he'd put their entire future in jeopardy trying to do it.

Anthony wanted to stand. He wanted to wrap his arms around Rhonda's slender waist and reassure her, feel close to her again. She hadn't put on the necklace. The leather string hung out of her pocket.

But he was frozen where he sat. He wasn't sure how she'd react.

Rhonda seemed unaware of his inner turmoil. She slid the sandwich onto a plate and set it in front of him. She hadn't made anything for herself. And Anthony couldn't eat. He had questions. Rhonda was too quiet, too calm as she leaned back against the counter, watching him.

"Have you...," he began.

A small smile settled on Rhonda's lips, as if she knew what he was going to ask.

"Have you been with anyone else?"

Rhonda looked him dead in the eye. Her voice was serious.

"Yeah, Anthony. I've been fuckin' guys all over the place. You were gone. I had needs. And I was angry."

Anthony felt his stomach drop. His nostrils flared. His careful tiptoeing was forgotten. He half-stood, ready to do...he didn't know what. Then she smiled.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm...disappointed, Anthony. We've lost a year. But I'm yours. Just yours."

He calmed down immediately and sat back in his chair. Rhonda turned away again and began piling dishes into the sink to soak. She was so distant. And that made him feel worse than anything she could have done or said. But he was going to fix this.

"Come here, Rho."

She turned, considering him as she dried her hands on a dish towel. Then she did as he asked, standing in front of him, walls still securely in place. But Anthony was going to break them. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap. Rhonda stiffened, but when his lips met hers, she seemed to melt.

She was straddling him, her breasts pushed against his chest, his hard erection nestled securely in the jean-clad vee of her legs as they kissed. Anthony grabbed her ass, clutched the back of her tank top. He hadn't felt a woman in a long time. He moved his mouth to her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin as he carressed it. She had one hand in his hair and the other holding his shirt. Anthony's grip moved to her hips, rocking her back and forth, begging for more friction. Rhonda complied, moaning in his ear as the movement provided her with pleasure of her own.

He couldn't take it anymore. He had to have her.

Anthony let the forgotten dinner fall to the floor and lifted Rhonda onto the table. Her breath and body were shaking, anticipating the passion that was about to be unleashed.

"I missed you so much," Anthony breathed in her ear.

She answered with her hands, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down his legs. He freed his hard length from his underwear, and she explored the organ with soft hands as he fumbled with the clasp of her jeans. Rhonda lifted her hips, letting him pull down her jeans and underwear and drop them to the floor. He pushed her flat on her back and plunged a finger into her moist depths, rubbing her clit erratically with his thumb, making her squirm, taking only enough time to make sure that she was ready for him. Then he lined himself up with her dripping entrance and plunged into her awaiting depths.

She was tight and wet around him, an ocean of beautiful, sinful sensation, and the way her body rose up to meet his told him that she was lost in the same sea. She'd been quiet that afternoon, cautious, but, just as he'd hoped, she was opening up to him.

Rhonda moaned and writhed against him, her large breasts clothed but tantalizing. Anthony slipped a hand under her tanktop, almost blinded by pure, carnal pleasure but still needing to feel the warm, fleshy mounds. He wouldn't last long, but the way she wrapped her legs around him and the rapid, shallow sound of her breathing told him he wouldn't need to.

"I love you," he groaned.

"You'd fucking better," she answered between gasps.

Then that slightly surprised look came into her eyes, and he knew he could let himself go.

"Anthony...," she moaned.

His hands gripped her waist, and he felt the familiar hot, liquid rush just as her muscles clamped down around him. When the spasms ended, they were both left panting, sweaty, but, more importantly, bonded. Anthony pulled out of Rhonda, and she sat up at the edge of the table, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly before he could make a move to clean up or replace his clothes. She didn't seem to care, and he wasn't about to stop her.

"I missed you," Rhonda admitted finally.

"I know, Rho."

He kissed the top of her head. After a moment, they parted, and he pulled up his pants and handed Rhonda's jeans to her. Before she put them on, she straightened her tank top and pulled the necklace he'd made out of her pocket. She placed it carefully around her neck.

And that was all the reassurance Anthony needed.

Be sure to check out this week's other flashers!

Lindsay Klug (M/F)
LM Brown (M/M)
Lily Sawyer (M/M)
RJ Scott (M/M)
Sui Lynn (M/M)
Pender Mackie (M/M)
Victoria Blisse (M/F)
Julie Hayes (M/M)
Ryssa Edwards (M/M)

Vice

2011-03-10T13:46:00.003-05:00

Hey, everyone! Just wanted to let you know that my (somewhat dark) erotic short story, Vice, has been accepted into Static Movement's Obsession anthology. It details a young cocktail waitress's growing obsession with a dangerous man. Steamy sex wasn't a requirement for this submission, but I'm really excited that the editor, Dorothy Davies, was so open to it.

For now, here's the cover art, linked up to Static Movement's website. I'll let you know when the official release date's been set!

Archived show, y'all.

2011-03-09T20:18:00.003-05:00

That was my Paula Deen impression, for those of you who couldn't tell. Less impressive via blog. Whomp whomp.

So if you missed the radio show tonight, check out the archived convo below. I'm the second one, around the 27 minute mark, but I vote you check out the whole thing. It's a great insight into the workings of the erotic world, featuring Rachel Kramer Bussel, DL King, Jeremy Edwards, Elizabeth Daniels, and myself.

Listen to internet radio with rarebirdradio on Blog Talk Radio

Video did not kill the radio star...

2011-03-09T14:49:00.006-05:00

So join me tonight when I call into Rare Bird Radio to chat with Rachel Kramer Bussel, Jeremy Edwards, and Elizabeth Daniels! We'll be promoting Gotta Have It: 69 Stories of Sudden Sex at 7:00pm EST/4:00pm PST.

Silver Flash!: "Tie a Yellow Ribbon..."

2011-03-09T00:00:00.012-05:00

The prompt: use the words playground, pier, and diamond. This could turn into a two-parter, so check back next week! Although, of course, I hope you'll stop back again before then. ;)

Anthony stood in the overgrown playground. The equipment was beginning to rust. But this was where he and Rhonda had said they'd meet thirteen months ago, if she still wanted to be with him. It was right across the street from the apartment they might have gotten if he hadn't fucked up. Anthony had done something terrible, but he loved her. And she'd been confused when he'd left her. It was understandable. He couldn't steal a man's credit card and expect his sweetheart to send him love letters every week. She hadn't written to him at all, actually, the whole time he'd been in the county jail. Or picked up the phone when he called.

Still, he held onto hope.

The tall, hard-muscled man strode through the tall weeds and gave the merry-go-round a shove. The resounding squeak was slow and loud. Rhonda knew he'd been released. The rest was up to her. Anthony fiddled with the necklace in his pocket. He didn't have much, but he'd managed to make her this. He took out the tiny glass bottle and held it up in the light. Inside was a small shard of wood. It was from the pier where he'd taken her on their first date, a boat ride on the lake. Their romance had been hot and heavy. They'd spent most of their time below deck, exploring all the different ways they could rock the boat.

He squeezed his large hand around the bottle. He wasn't sure what he was hoping it would prove. His love for her, the fact that he'd changed his ways...probably a combination of the two. Anthony glanced around the playground. There wasn't any sign of her. He decided to make another round and then call it quits. For all he knew, she'd moved on. His broad shoulders slumped. He barely knew who he was without her. He barely knew who he was with her, but at least she helped him see who he could be.

Suddenly, as he was about to give up, he caught sight of something attached to the top of the slide that hadn't been there before. As he realized what it was, his mouth lifted up in a grin. It was a yellow ribbon. And below it stood Rhonda, just as he remembered her, slender arms crossed over her chest, blue eyes sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight. He couldn't read her expression, but she'd come and that had to mean something. He approached her slowly, unsure of how to proceed.

"Hey, Rho," he greeted in his deep voice, hands shoved in his pockets, still fidgeting with the gift he had for her.

She looked him up and down, trying to decide--he assumed--if the man standing before her was still worthwhile. Finally, the smallest of smiles touched her lips, and her defensive stance relaxed.

"Hey, Anthony."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I made you this."

He held out the necklace to her, and she took it, examining it. Anthony muttered his explanation, feeling suddenly stupid. It wasn't enough.

"I stopped to see the boats before I came here. Thought it might help you remember...you know...what we had."

"I didn't forget."

"I still love you."

Rhonda stared at Anthony for a long time. Anthony looked back at her, admiring the way her jeans hugged her lower half and the way her tank top revealed the generous cleavage he'd fervently fantasized about on his loneliest nights. His admiration didn't go unnoticed, and he could feel his face grow hot. He was supposed to be impressing her, and here he was objectifying her. She just shook her head and sighed. To his surprise, she smiled.

"Do you want to come up? I was thinking of making dinner. I'm sure you haven't had a good meal in a while."

Relief and elation struck Anthony harder than he could have anticipated.

"Yes."

"I'm just over there."

She pointed across the street, at a familiar building visible above the vine-infested fence. Anthony was surprised. Instantly he knew it was the apartment they'd planned on living in together.

"You bought it?"

"I'm renting to own." Rhonda stepped forward and touched a hand to Anthony's chest. It was the most female contact he'd had in a year, and the simple gesture had him ready to melt at her feet. "I still love you, too. I never stopped. You'd just better never do anything that stupid again. Times are hard. Don't make them harder."

"I won't. I'm sorry."

Rhonda nodded her acceptance, then trailed her fingertips down the length of his arm, making his skin tingle. Anthony hadn't felt so much in a very long time. It would take time for them to get back to the way things were, but she was willing and he was willing, and that was all he needed to know. Rhonda intertwined her fingers with his and pulled him towards the gap in the fence. Anthony grabbed the yellow ribbon from the top of the slide as they went. The splinter would remind Rhonda of his love, and this classic gesture would remind him of hers.

And be sure to check out the other flashers!

Julie Hayes (M/M)
Diane Adams (M/M)
Lindsay Klug (M/F)
RJ Scott (M/M)
Lily Sawyer (M/M)
Sui Lynn (M/M)
Pender Mackie(M/M)
Victoria Blisse (M/F)
Ryssa Edwards (M/M)