Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Now for Something Completely Different
I've got a website! I'm leaving this blog live until I work out all the kinks, but be sure to check out my new internet home at HeatherLin.com.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Happy Halloween!
I've got a story titled "Long Lost" in this fun Halloween-themed anthology from House of Erotica.
The blurb:
Brian and Lacey are former high school sweethearts kept apart by Lacey's overbearing grandmother. Even years after her grandmother's death, Lacey refuses to have anything to do with Brian. In fact, she takes on a few of her grandmother's tendencies, becoming prudish and reclusive and refusing to speak to Brian until one day, out of the blue, she invites him over to her house and seduces him.
It doesn't take long for Brian to discover Lacey is not just acting like her grandmother but is actually possessed by her—and the old woman wants him out of the picture for good. The only thing he can do to bring Lacey back is remind her of just how passionate their romance was and just how deep their love still runs.
Click the pic below to check it out!
The blurb:
Brian and Lacey are former high school sweethearts kept apart by Lacey's overbearing grandmother. Even years after her grandmother's death, Lacey refuses to have anything to do with Brian. In fact, she takes on a few of her grandmother's tendencies, becoming prudish and reclusive and refusing to speak to Brian until one day, out of the blue, she invites him over to her house and seduces him.
It doesn't take long for Brian to discover Lacey is not just acting like her grandmother but is actually possessed by her—and the old woman wants him out of the picture for good. The only thing he can do to bring Lacey back is remind her of just how passionate their romance was and just how deep their love still runs.
Click the pic below to check it out!
Amazon not your style? This book is also available from All Romance E-Books.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Great Quote
"Here’s the thing, kids. A professional writer is not deemed so by how much they get paid per word, or how many words they produce, or how many awards they’ve won, or what position they hold in a writer’s organization, or how much networking they do at conventions. A professional writer does one thing — they treat their writing professionally. They produce. They edit. They constantly strive to get better. They sit their ass down in a chair and put their fingers on a keyboard and they type." -Brian Keene
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Something Serious
I am very lucky. The first poem I ever wrote was nominated by my teachers to go in an anthology of fifth grade poetry. The first short story I ever wrote with the intent to submit won $100 in a contest. I was accepted before I was ever rejected so I started out knowing I had at least some talent, someone out there who thought I could make this writing thing happen (besides my mom, who is amazing and honest, but she's also my mom).
I've spent too much of this past year feeling discouraged because, while my short stories usually find a good home, my longer work has so far only been accepted by small publishers who work mainly in the ebook/Amazon world and require a hefty amount of self-promotion which has resulted in a very minimal profit margin.
I want an agent. I want Harlequin. I want to go into my local bookstore and see my book on the shelf. I want to do book signings. I want to contribute to my household income through doing what I love. I know what I want, I'm making the effort, and I'm tired of waiting.
But I forget that I'm lucky. I'm twenty-four and I have 22 writing credits to my name, plus 20 writing credits to my legal name. That's 42 writing credits in just five years. That's really amazing.
This morning, I stumbled upon the website Literary Rejections, which has reminded me that there are plenty of aspiring authors (a category in which I still include myself) who would kill for just a sliver of the encouragement I've had.
I need to remember that everything happens in its own time. As long as I keep writing because I love to write, as long as I don't rush my work, as long as this desire burns, I'll get there. Eventually. And eventually is okay because the thing about dreams is they'll wait for you. They'll wait an entire lifetime for you to catch up to them.
And no matter how many roadblocks, detours, and distractions I run into along the way, I'm sure as hell getting there.
Friday, May 24, 2013
LAST CHANCE!
The System and Westridge are being pulled from Amazon and the Silver Publishing website tomorrow! This is a good thing for me! I hope to have these published through another company at some point in the near future, but if you want to guarantee yourself a copy GRAB IT TODAY!
Saturday, May 4, 2013
UPDATE: "Westridge"
In about a month, my rights to Westridge will be reverted from Silver Publishing back to me. This means you'll see the cover art disappear from here and my blog in the next few weeks, and the book itself will be unavailable beginning June 18th.
I plan to pursue republication through a different company, but there's no telling if/when this would happen. So if you've been putting off buying your copy in print or ebook form, do it ASAP!
Click the pick to snag yours today!
Thursday, March 28, 2013
"Butterflies" Pt. 5
Aaron pressed his lips tenderly against Lana’s, and she let the kiss deepen, thrusting her tongue eagerly against his, mimicking the erotic movement of his hips with hers.
“You need this,” he breathed in her ear as he unbuttoned her blouse.
“Won’t someone find us?” she murmured.
“No.” He slid her shirt off her shoulders and revealed the lacy white bra underneath. “Besides, if I took you somewhere else it would give you time to change your mind.”
He had a point. Lana reached for the hem of his polo and pulled it up, allowing him to finish the task when her hands stopped to explore his hard, hair-roughened chest. As if of their own accord, her fingertips followed the lines of his muscles down, grazing the trail of hair that disappeared into the front of his jeans. Aaron sucked in a breath as her hand continued and hesitantly cupped the bulge rebelling against his zipper. He tilted her head up and kissed her passionately, grinding himself against her hand.
The sudden sense of control sent a rush of wet heat through her body, and his palm against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine. She reached back to undo the clasp of her bra and give him full access to her small, supple breasts. He cupped them in his hands and grazed her nipples with his thumbs before replacing them with his mouth. Lana threw her head back and moaned, involuntarily bucking her hips, feeling the loss when he stopped to remove his jeans.
Lana followed suit, kicking off her slacks, but she still hesitated at removing her white thong. Aaron paused to gently caress her cheek with his thumb. His eyes burned with desire, but he was patient. She needed that. He took her bare hips in his hands and pulled her against him, reminding her of how badly she wanted this.
“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck.
She relaxed into him, and he led her over to one of the classroom tables, pinning her gently between it and his hard body. He nibbled her earlobe and kissed the sweet spot behind her jaw. Lana was suddenly very aware that the only thing between her and Heaven was a flimsy piece of fabric. Aaron thrust against it, and she matched his movement, craving deeper contact until he finally hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and pulled them roughly down her thighs.
Her breath came in shallow gasps and Aaron trembled, impossibly tense as he struggled to keep control. Lana had never had this effect on a man. She felt empowered. It turned her on. He reached down to touch her, to feel her warmth, and she knew he would find her drenched with wanting him. He slipped a finger between the folds of her womanhood and plunged it deep within her. She arched her back, an unashamed whimper escaping her lips. In response, Aaron pressed his thumb against her clit, rolling it and wracking her body with a whole new pleasure.
He met with no resistance when he pushed her back onto the table and positioned himself over her. He kissed her passionately and nudged at her opening, easing into her. She undulated beneath him, moaning into his mouth and finding reassurance in his lips until he rested fully inside her. Her body trembled, and her breath came in short gasps, every nerve on fire.
“Please,” she whispered.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly at first, then faster, Aaron pumped in and out of her welcoming warmth. Lana had never felt so much pleasure in her life, and she met him thrust for eager thrust.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, feeling herself crest higher and higher toward beautiful release.
Aaron’s brow furrowed with concentration as he tried not to lose himself inside of Lana. She rested her wanton eyes on his. The emotion she found there was so real, so honest, that she was taken aback. It wasn’t love, but the possibility was there, and she had no doubt that the same look was on her own face. The connection she felt to this man she hardly knew was unreal. But, God, it felt good.
Lana closed her eyes and dug her fingernails into his back. She was vaguely aware of her moans increasing in volume and intensity, urging Aaron to pick up speed. He gave in gladly to her carnal plea, and she moved her fingers to grasp his hair, giving him the last erotic sensation he could handle. He cried out her name as he came inside of her, and her muscles clamped down immediately in response. Together, they rode out the ecstatic wave and collapsed in a sweaty, breathless, and blissful tangle of limbs.
But Lana cut the afterglow short, reality checking in as she remembered where she was. Her face felt hot, and she couldn’t look at Aaron. She’d never done anything that adventurous before. They’d moved so fast in such a public place. She didn’t regret it, but she wasn’t without shame.
Aaron moved next to her, pulling on his clothes as she donned hers. When her shirt was buttoned and she was in the process of fixing her hair, he cupped her chin in his hand and turned her lips towards his. He kissed her gently and searched her eyes.
“Is everything okay?”
Lana took a deep breath and pushed the what if’s and shoulda coulda woulda’s aside long enough to answer the question honestly. There they were again—a flock of butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and her smile was genuine.
“Yes. Everything’s perfect.”
He returned her smile and put and arm around her waist, leading her out to his car to drive her home.
*
The next day, Aaron walked among his students, viewing their work and making suggestions. When he came to Lana, he leaned down to pretend he was taking a closer look at her painting.
“Dinner tonight?”
Lana hesitated. Was she ready for this? She had to admit yesterday had been different from anything she’d experienced before, but it had felt undeniably right. And, after much contemplation, she’d come to class to see him again rather than hiding at home. That had to count for something.
“I can only look at these pretty butterflies for so long,” he murmured.
“Yes,” she answered quickly.
He smiled and said his next words aloud before moving on to the next student. “Nice job, Lana. You’ve really brightened up your work.”
“Thanks, Aaron,” she replied, playing along as if a romantic interlude had never taken place on the table five feet away.
Yes. She would let this continue. Because along with her art, her future had also become brighter. She glanced at Aaron’s handsome face and smiled to herself before adding one more butterfly to the canvas.
“You need this,” he breathed in her ear as he unbuttoned her blouse.
“Won’t someone find us?” she murmured.
“No.” He slid her shirt off her shoulders and revealed the lacy white bra underneath. “Besides, if I took you somewhere else it would give you time to change your mind.”
He had a point. Lana reached for the hem of his polo and pulled it up, allowing him to finish the task when her hands stopped to explore his hard, hair-roughened chest. As if of their own accord, her fingertips followed the lines of his muscles down, grazing the trail of hair that disappeared into the front of his jeans. Aaron sucked in a breath as her hand continued and hesitantly cupped the bulge rebelling against his zipper. He tilted her head up and kissed her passionately, grinding himself against her hand.
The sudden sense of control sent a rush of wet heat through her body, and his palm against her bare skin sent shivers down her spine. She reached back to undo the clasp of her bra and give him full access to her small, supple breasts. He cupped them in his hands and grazed her nipples with his thumbs before replacing them with his mouth. Lana threw her head back and moaned, involuntarily bucking her hips, feeling the loss when he stopped to remove his jeans.
Lana followed suit, kicking off her slacks, but she still hesitated at removing her white thong. Aaron paused to gently caress her cheek with his thumb. His eyes burned with desire, but he was patient. She needed that. He took her bare hips in his hands and pulled her against him, reminding her of how badly she wanted this.
“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck.
She relaxed into him, and he led her over to one of the classroom tables, pinning her gently between it and his hard body. He nibbled her earlobe and kissed the sweet spot behind her jaw. Lana was suddenly very aware that the only thing between her and Heaven was a flimsy piece of fabric. Aaron thrust against it, and she matched his movement, craving deeper contact until he finally hooked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and pulled them roughly down her thighs.
Her breath came in shallow gasps and Aaron trembled, impossibly tense as he struggled to keep control. Lana had never had this effect on a man. She felt empowered. It turned her on. He reached down to touch her, to feel her warmth, and she knew he would find her drenched with wanting him. He slipped a finger between the folds of her womanhood and plunged it deep within her. She arched her back, an unashamed whimper escaping her lips. In response, Aaron pressed his thumb against her clit, rolling it and wracking her body with a whole new pleasure.
He met with no resistance when he pushed her back onto the table and positioned himself over her. He kissed her passionately and nudged at her opening, easing into her. She undulated beneath him, moaning into his mouth and finding reassurance in his lips until he rested fully inside her. Her body trembled, and her breath came in short gasps, every nerve on fire.
“Please,” she whispered.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly at first, then faster, Aaron pumped in and out of her welcoming warmth. Lana had never felt so much pleasure in her life, and she met him thrust for eager thrust.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, feeling herself crest higher and higher toward beautiful release.
Aaron’s brow furrowed with concentration as he tried not to lose himself inside of Lana. She rested her wanton eyes on his. The emotion she found there was so real, so honest, that she was taken aback. It wasn’t love, but the possibility was there, and she had no doubt that the same look was on her own face. The connection she felt to this man she hardly knew was unreal. But, God, it felt good.
Lana closed her eyes and dug her fingernails into his back. She was vaguely aware of her moans increasing in volume and intensity, urging Aaron to pick up speed. He gave in gladly to her carnal plea, and she moved her fingers to grasp his hair, giving him the last erotic sensation he could handle. He cried out her name as he came inside of her, and her muscles clamped down immediately in response. Together, they rode out the ecstatic wave and collapsed in a sweaty, breathless, and blissful tangle of limbs.
But Lana cut the afterglow short, reality checking in as she remembered where she was. Her face felt hot, and she couldn’t look at Aaron. She’d never done anything that adventurous before. They’d moved so fast in such a public place. She didn’t regret it, but she wasn’t without shame.
Aaron moved next to her, pulling on his clothes as she donned hers. When her shirt was buttoned and she was in the process of fixing her hair, he cupped her chin in his hand and turned her lips towards his. He kissed her gently and searched her eyes.
“Is everything okay?”
Lana took a deep breath and pushed the what if’s and shoulda coulda woulda’s aside long enough to answer the question honestly. There they were again—a flock of butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and her smile was genuine.
“Yes. Everything’s perfect.”
He returned her smile and put and arm around her waist, leading her out to his car to drive her home.
*
The next day, Aaron walked among his students, viewing their work and making suggestions. When he came to Lana, he leaned down to pretend he was taking a closer look at her painting.
“Dinner tonight?”
Lana hesitated. Was she ready for this? She had to admit yesterday had been different from anything she’d experienced before, but it had felt undeniably right. And, after much contemplation, she’d come to class to see him again rather than hiding at home. That had to count for something.
“I can only look at these pretty butterflies for so long,” he murmured.
“Yes,” she answered quickly.
He smiled and said his next words aloud before moving on to the next student. “Nice job, Lana. You’ve really brightened up your work.”
“Thanks, Aaron,” she replied, playing along as if a romantic interlude had never taken place on the table five feet away.
Yes. She would let this continue. Because along with her art, her future had also become brighter. She glanced at Aaron’s handsome face and smiled to herself before adding one more butterfly to the canvas.
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