Monthly Archives: November 2011

Good girls and bad boys…


Who doesn’t love the bad boy?

I for one love to write bad boys and the good girls they corrupt…err fall in love with. My latest project, well one of the many I am digging into at the moment is about a particular bad boy named Legion.

If the name sounds demonic, that’s because this bad boy is half Demon.

For some godforsaken reason, I have a soft spot for the guy in leather with tattoos and a really badass attitude.  Yet when all those layers of toughness are peeled away by the sweet, yet highly intelligent and immensely internally strong heroine… : ), we find that sexy vulnerability which just makes us want to cuddle up to that big mean-don’t-look-at-me-unless-you-have-a-deathwish, guy and purr like a cat in heat.

Bad boys are always hot, especially when it comes to romance. The rogue, the wickedly arrogant, yet courageous pirate, or that dangerously brooding vampire, seems to bring our innate primal urges to the forefront of our mind. Don’t we just love losing control when it comes to passion?

After all we are, underneath all these layers of civilized behaviour, still animals.

For your pleasure here is a sneak peek at Legion and his “good” girl HEA…

(from my WIP Soulmate’s Kiss…)

Sal was aghast. She lifted an elegant hand to her mouth and stared at the hordes of bent misshapen gollum-like creatures through horrified eyes.

“What are they?”

Legion regarded her a moment. He hadn’t wanted to bring her this far into the pits of hell, but it was unavoidable.

“Human souls…condemned human souls.”

Sal turned to face him, her expression quite incredulous, “I though Eve took back all her souls after people die…”

Her pretty face scrunched with confusion, and perhaps a bit of revulsion.

Legion indicated the gnarled creatures with a tilt of his head.

“She does, but only the pure souls go back to her. The ones that have been tainted by wickedness and evil during their mortal lives are tossed here, by Eve herself.”

Sal gasped as a large muscular  demon yanked one of the scrawny things by the neck and threw it into a spiked wall impaling it. When he reached for another, seeming quite bored with his task, and hauled it up to throw, Sal couldn’t stand to look and averted her gaze.

“What about forgiveness?”

Her pleading look, filled with sympathy, tugged at Legion’s heart. It pissed him off that she had that power over him. He grunted and smiled sardonically.

“Forgiveness? Ha! That’s something humans have created to easy their conscience. Trust me sweet, there is no such thing in the immortal realms.

Happy Holidays!

Emma

5 Great Lines Married By Morning, by Lisa Kleypas


Today’s 5 Great Lines come from Married By Morning, by Lisa Kleypas. Enjoy.

1

“You are not a perfect woman.You have an evil temper, you’re as blind as a mole, you’re a deplorable poet, and frankly, your French accent could use some work.” Supporting himself on his elbows, Leo took her face in his hands. “But when I put those things together with the rest of you, it makes you into the most perfectly imperfect woman I’ve ever known.”

2

“I have a very pure soul. It’s only my private parts that have gotten me into trouble.”

3

“Fencing isn’t really fighting. It’s more like chess with the risk of puncture wounds”

4

“You seem to think you have a choice,” Cam said “But you have it backwards. Love chooses you. The shadow moves as the sun commands.”-

5

“I’ve told you before, I love like a madman,” he said. “Immoderate, jealous, possessive…I’m absolutely intolerable.”


Ava Delany
The Fetish Club Series, The Homecoming Series, and The Beginnings Series.
Look for my newest release- A Surprising Day – on Kindle, Allromanceebooks, and many other places where ebooks are sold.

What’s Your Hurry?


By Kay Springsteen

Have you ever read a book and when you get to the end you let out a big dreamy sigh? You wanted to get to the end – to see the characters you’ve come to adore get their satisfying ending. And yet…when you turn that last page and read the last word, you’re sad, too…because you have come to love these people and you really hate to leave them behind.

Those are the books we wish we could prolong…the ones that generate excitement when we realize there’s a sequel.

But lately, I’ve been reading books and finding I’m sorry to read the last word for a completely different reason. I’ve been running across stories that have absolutely superb potential. I come to care about the characters, wonder about their future…but instead of that satisfying ending I’m reading toward, I get a rushed rendition of winding up the events in the story with long expository paragraphs, often a quick kiss, and some version of  “…and they all lived happily ever after.” (Or sometimes, just happily for now.)

Whatever happened to showing how the bad guy is discovered and ultimately foiled? Why can’t we be shown in greater detail how the couple got over their differences and decided to make a go of it? Why can’t writers throw in an extra plot twist, increase the stakes and the tension, so I (and other readers) have to wonder if that happy ending is going to happen?

I don’t know exactly what has brought on this rushed phenomenon in the industry. But lately I’ve been reading more books that are little more than short stories with shallow, single-stranded plots. There is no intricate path to follow on which I may lose myself in the story – it’s a straight shot from beginning to end, and over far too quickly to become lost in. There are only limited events occurring through which the characters actually develop chemistry…and in some cases, there are so few events, the characters themselves don’t develop beyond cardboard cutouts.

I recently read a very, very well-written historical. That is, the writing itself drew me into the story, made me care what happened. The research into the era had been solid. The story revolved around one main character nursing the other through a dangerous illness. With something like 80 pages spent on the nursing part, the ill character was mostly unconscious and/or delirious. So I was ready for some serious chemistry to develop when the character pulled through, became stronger, and started working about the farm. Unfortunately, I was a bit disappointed. In the space of the next 20 or so pages, the farm was tilled, planted, and some bad guys chased away, and the couple was ready to build a life together. I loved this author’s writing so much, but what made the story disappointing was that rushed ending. With so much intricate detail spent on nursing a character to health, I would have loved to see the same poured into building more chemistry between them. But the ending of the story was rushed once the character became conscious and aware, and opportunities for character development and couple chemistry were ignored or lost, not to mention a pack of loose ends that were left dangling.

I’ve seen this altogether too often lately. While the reverse is just as appalling (that is, a story that runs on and on and on, well past its expiration date), it is these suddenly ended but not quite finished stories that I’m seeing too many of lately. They simply don’t feel complete. They often feel more like watching one episode of a weekly TV series and not being able to see the other episodes. Certainly, they don’t have a movie feel about them, and not a complete novel.

A story needs to show a balance of action narrative, dialogue, and descriptive narrative from beginning to end. Back story is a place where many readers become hung up. They aren’t sure how much to tell, or when/how to present it. Back story often presents as a problem in the form of an information dump.

Information dumps can about along in a variety of ways, but they all have one thing in common. They have the potential to jar the readers out of the story. Any time too much back story information is being given to the reader, whether in the form of the character thinking about the past, or telling about an incident from the past in lengthy passages of unbroken up dialogue, or (worst of all) narrative that simply explains what happened that brought the character to a particular place, the story slows down and becomes a bit of a yawn…and far too easy to put down. A lot of attention has been devoted to showing authors the perils of not being careful with presentation of back story.

But back story is not the only time information can be presented in a less-than-ideal manner. Consider the following, which is not back story, but a telling of current events, and yet is no less an information dump than is back story.

They all went to Stan’s house, where Stan and Stella met them at the door. Stan hugged everyone, and then they went inside, to find Stella had cooked a nice dinner. They all sat down at the table and chatted while they ate steaks and baked potatoes. Then they ate dessert out on the patio. After a while, the conversation turned to a discussion of their latest problem: how to handle the new boss at work.

This is glossing over the present details. Just as too much back story slows down the reading of a story, so does glossing over the details throw off the pace by making the readers feel they were dragged through. The thing is, if you, as a writer, find yourself glossing over details, it is entirely likely the information you are presenting is unnecessary to the story. Look at the passage again. How much is really required?

They all met at Stan’s house for dinner but they kept conversation light until they got to dessert.

“Let’s take this to the patio,” suggested Stella, dishing up pie ala mode. “We can talk about the new boss.”

On the other hand, maybe the meeting at the door was important, or the dinner conversation was relevant, or the fact that Stan hugged everyone when they arrived. In that case, the passage should be expanded.

Jim, Kari, and Buddy arrived at Stan’s around the same time. Stan was waiting in the front yard. As Kari stepped out of the car, Stan locked her into a giant bear hug.

“I’m so glad you all could make it.” He turned to Jim and shook his hand. “You must be Jim. Buddy’s told me a lot about you.”

Stella joined them. “I have steaks on the grill. Who wants to help peel the potatoes?”

Pacing in a story is critical, and that’s why the balance is important. Just as you need to plan your beginning, middle, and end to avoid rushed endings or endings that drag on, you also need to plan how much action narrative, dialogue (including thought), and descriptive narrative will give you the most balanced scenes throughout the story. You may also find yourself with explanation narrative, but it’s best to place this in dialogue or thought when possible or you risk point of view problems.

The key here would be to take it one scene at a time. Plot each scene within the overall plot of the story. For the pantser this will be harder to do, but it is not impossible. A plotter would decide during the outlining phase. A pantser simply writes the scene and then must be willing to go back into the just-written scene with red pen and scissors to trim the unnecessary bits and add in the layers and details that will round out the people and the scene itself.

One thing I sometimes suggest to authors I have edited is to use the font color option on the computer. When you read back what you’ve written, simply change the color of the font according to what type of writing – for instance, blue for action narrative, red for dialogue, and green for descriptive narrative, and perhaps keeping the explanation narrative black. Then check the colors for evenness or chunkiness throughout the scene. Frankly, there should be much less explanation narrative than action, description, or dialogue. Action and dialogue, and to an extent description are what should actually drive your stories forward.

Do you pace your stories in any way?

And now for a bit of shameless promotion: My Christmas novel, Operation: Christmas Hearts, has just been released. For today through midnight Tuesday PST, anyone who purchases a copy of this book and provides proof to my email address, wordsprite@gmail.com, will be given a PDF copy of their choice of any of my previous published works. Just include the words Operation: Christmas Hearts Cyber Monday in the title of your email.

Amazon   Astraea Press   Barnes & Noble

5 Great Lines – J.R. Ward’s Dark Lover.


5 Great Lines from J.R. Ward’s Dark Lover.

1

“You’ve won the evolutionary lottery: You’re a vampire. Let’s go to Disneyland!”

2

The half-human was the hottest thing he’d ever gotten anywhere near. And he’d cozied up to a lightning strike once or twice before.

3

“Perfect date material, she thought. A vampire with the social equivalent of road rage.”

4

“Tell me something,boys. Do you wear that leather to turn each other on? I mean, is it a dick thing with you all?”

5

Wrath dragged Beth into his arms and hugged her hard, talking in that other language again. When he pulled back, he ended the monologue with something like leelan.
Beth: “Is that vampire talk for bitch?”


Ava Delany
The Fetish Club Series, The Homecoming Series, and The Beginnings Series.
Look for my newest release- A Surprising Day – on Kindle, Allromanceebooks, and many other places where ebooks are sold.

Thanksgiving Thoughts


by Kay Springsteen

Although my mother emigrated from England, she embraced the Thanksgiving holiday as one where we would gather as a family, and we had our food traditions of turkey and all the embellishments of that meal. The house smelled incredible starting the week before because Mom would bake pies and cookies every day. The lingering scent of sugary treats baking mingled with the savory aroma of roasting meat on Thanksgiving morning, and our stomachs were all growling by midday. But we had other traditions also…parades in the morning, football games in the afternoon, and the start of Christmas season programming on TV later that night (yes, definitely dating myself here).

As Thanksgiving approaches this year, once again I realize I have much to be thankful for. Family and friends, for certain. Home and hearth. Health. And my writing. I still have a muse whispering in my ear, and people still seem to like reading what I write. But with all I’m grateful for, all the contentment with what I have, that doesn’t mean I’m complacent. I still have goals and a lot of these pertain to my writing and editing careers. After a pause for an attitude of gratitude, I’m going to be setting my goals for the New Year.

Whether or not you celebrate Thanksgiving, what are you thankful for? And do you have thoughts of goals and plans for your future? Things you can be grateful for in the future?

Guest – Karen Frisch


Please help me welcome back out monthly guest, Karen Frisch, author of Lady Delphinia’s Deception.

Moment of Rejuvenation
by Karen Frisch
Writers are among the most emotionally vulnerable people on earth. While our writing makes us both happy as well as sad at times, nothing has the power to plunge us so deeply into despair as criticism. It might be a negative review on Amazon, unwelcome words from a critique partner, a lower sales figure than we expect to see on a royalty statement, or three stars out of five on a readers’ website. Whatever the slight, no matter how minor, it cuts as much as if we’d been physically hurt.
Perhaps it’s because our own spirits soar when we write, and we can’t understand how others don’t see the brilliance of our words. They don’t feel the excitement we do or realize just how long it took us to get to the point where we couldlet go of a given scene, deeming it ready for release into the cold, cruel world.
For a time, we might get discouraged and avoid the page. Yet despite the doubts that the slight awakened, most of uskeep writing anyway. It isn’t always a matter of choice. Writing is such an integral part of our lives that we will continue to write until someone demands that we turn over what we’ve been working on. If it weren’t for deadlines from an editor or critique partner, we might never let any of our work leave our hands.
Over time, something happens without our awareness. Our liveschange. Our perception and understanding grow keener, though we don’t necessarilyrealize it at the time.
Over time, we learn. We live. We have new experiences and undergo unexpected events that challenge what we’ve always believed. Things occur that we never expected to happen, and they’re not always for the better. That’s okay. It makes them great fodder for a novel. We know we can use that pain one day. We start to write from a perspective we never had before, about changes we never saw coming. Our writing improves. It gets stronger because we have a wider range of experiences from which to draw.
Life is filled with unexpected moments, both good and bad. They give us courage to proceed. We get our second wind and survive another day. We find the courage to go back and re-read our early works and decide maybe that criticism (at least some of it) was warranted.
You never know when it will happen, but before you know it, often when you’re not expecting it, an editor who sees the value in your writing offers you a contract. Now the tears of change begin. First it’s time for tears of disbelief, then joy. Those tears of frustration that sprang from criticism are lost in the process, swept away with the tide that moves you toward writing success.
The writing journey is a cycle. Like the tides, it’s full of high moments, then it recedes for a bit. We often work in darkness, not knowing when the tide will return to lift us, to keep us afloat. Until those moments of rejuvenation come, we have to endure, knowing the high points won’t be the last we’ve seen.
As writers, we just have to wait.
Karen Frisch is the author of What’s in a Name, a December release from Avalon Books, in which a professor’s daughter and a fish market owner must overcome their differences to give two young runaway relatives a home–but first they must find the children. Her novella “A Delicate Footing” is now available in ImaJinn Books’ Christmas anthology A Regency Yuletide. She is also the author of Lady Delphinia’s Deception, a Regency from ImaJinn, and Murder Most Civil, a Victorian mystery from Mainly Murder Press that features an appearance by Henry David Thoreau.


April Dawn
Author of Crushing Desire and Bound By Love

Special excerpt….(OKAY some shameless self promo…. : ) )


Well not for anything but I’ve been busting my tush to get new works out to my readers. So I really want to put up an excerpt from my new sci-fi erotic romance, Kaden’s Breeder.

Kaden’s Breeder is my second novel being released from Sizzler Editions very soon. The cover art is being worked on as we speak..er…write and read this blog.

I love this story, as it was one of my very first erotic sci-fi love stories. It’s one of the first ideas that came to me when I began writing erotic romance and definitely one of my favorites…

That said, I would like to share this excerpt from Kaden’s Breeder…ENJOY!

Carina woke up in Kaden’s hut once again, and Kaden was not there. He had brought her back and laid her on the pallet at some point during the night.  Her cheeks reddened when she remembered the public display they had created the day before. 

What was wrong with her? Once again, she allowed a man she barely knew, a man that was not even human to…to…Crap; she couldn’t even bring herself to say what they had done.  The fact that she thoroughly enjoyed it was beside the point.  It never should have happened. 

“The next time we meet Kaden, I’ll be ready and you can bet I won’t be falling for that voodoo shit you’re doing to me!”  She was one hundred percent determined.

    “Oh good, you are awake.” 

Carina startled at the deep mesmerizing voice just behind her.  She turned around, there was Kaden…naked… and oh my God was he ever. Okay let’s make that about zero percent ready. Carina turned right back around, grabbed the thin animal blanket, and covered her own nudity.

Her face heated, her complexion could rival a lobster.  “Why are you…um…you, you know like that?” she tried not to turn around to gawk at his cock. 

He chuckled and settled down beside her, then traced the indentation of her spine with one finger all the way down to the adorable dimples just above her plump round ass.  Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. 

Kaden swiped her ear with his tongue, sending shivers dancing along her spine.  “I would like to show you the bathing pools.” 

Carina turned slightly so that she could see his face.  Damn he was gorgeous! “Bathing pools?” 

He smiled warmly at her and nodded, then stood up.

His cock had grown and stiffened so that it lay flat against his abdomen. Her mouth watered looking at the thick length of his dick. 

She slowly dragged her eyes up muscular six-pack abs and well-defined chest until she reached his grinning face. 

He wagged his eyebrows at her.

More to come soon!

Emma

5 Great lines – Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams


I will be sharing some really great lines from books on Tuesdays for a while. I hope you enjoy and find some great books to read in the process.

Here we have Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, one of my favorites. An absolutely indispensable guide for interstellar travelers, or anyone who loves a hysterically funny story.

1

In many of the more relaxed civilizations on the Outer Eastern Rim of the Galaxy, the Hitchhiker’s Guide has already supplanted the great Encyclopaedia Galactica as the standard repository of all knowledge and wisdom, for though it has many omissions and contains much that is apocryphal, or at least wildly inaccurate, it scores over the older, more pedestrian work in two important respects.
First, it is slightly cheaper; and secondly it has the words DON’T PANIC inscribed in large friendly letters on its cover.

2

Ford – You’d better be prepared for the jump into hyperspace. It’s unpleasantly like being drunk.
Arthur – What’s so unpleasant about being drunk?”
Ford – You ask a glass of water.”

3

On the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much — the wheel, New York, wars and so on — whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man — for precisely the same reasons.

4

“Ah, ” said Arthur, “this is obviously some strange usage of the word safe that I wasn’t previously aware of.

5

One of the things Ford Prefect had always found hardest to understand about humans was their habit of continually stating and repeating the very very obvious, as in It’s a nice day, or You’re very tall, or Oh dear you seem to have fallen down a thirty-foot well, are you alright? At first Ford had formed a theory to account for this strange behavior. If human beings don’t keep exercising their lips, he thought, their mouths probably seize up. After a few months’ consideration and observation he abandoned this theory in favor of a new one. If they don’t keep on exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working. After a while he abandoned this one as well as being obstructively cynical.


There you have it. Five of the best lines in HGTTG. Feel free to drop your own favorite quotes for Hitchhikers and look for great quotes from a new book next week.

Ava Delany
The Fetish Club Series, The Homecoming Series, and The Beginnings Series.
Look for my newest release- A Surprising Day – on Kindle, Allromanceebooks, and many other places where ebooks are sold.

The Mozart Effect on Writing Fiction


By Kay Springsteen

More surgeons are performing surgery with Mozart playing in the background. For patient relaxation while they’re under the knife? Nope. Because some studies have suggested surgeons who operate under the influence of Mozart do a better job. This report reminded me of the plethora of Mozart-oriented toys and videos for children because, yes, children are prime subjects for studies that show a trend toward easier learning, higher test scores, and earlier progression through the developmental milestones.

Some studies claim:

  • Improved test scores
  • Faster learning time
  • Produces calming effect
  • Reduces errors during tasks
  • Improvements in creativity
  • Faster physical healing

So I asked some fellow authors to participate in an experiment. For those who regularly wrote to music, I asked them to give Mozart a try. For those who didn’t write to music, I asked them to give Mozart a try as well. I asked them to pay particular attention to such things as overall word count, how it felt to write to the music, what they thought of their writing in terms of clarity, sentence construction, word usage, errors, etc. Those writers who participated had the following to say:

J.F. Jenkins: Alright, so I didn’t notice any difference in amount of productivity in terms of individual sprints. I did notice my word usage was different though, and that I was much more inspired than usual. Instead of dragging all day like I have the other few days since Nano started, my brain has been able to come up with plotlines and scene ideas faster so the down time between writing is less. My words also got bigger and it was easier to stay focused. I tried listening to simply movie scores, and those were nice too, but I found myself drifting a lot to actually listen to the music instead of just writing. I’m not sure why that is exactly.

Lisa Gay Greer:  1000 good words in 30 minutes listening to Mozart. I noticed my thoughts went in a new direction, a plot line I hadn’t thought of and that is far from mundane, and I can see middle and end to some extent. so, yes, I think it worked well to open my mind up to creativity. I’ll definitely be doing this again!

Chynna Laird:  The verdict: It was calming; I was more relaxed and completed the assignment I was working on. Yes, it may have had something to do with the fact that I LOVED what I was editing but I’d like to think that the music affected my mood and that affected my concentration and attitude.

J. Gunnar Grey:  Tried this last night, but paid too much attention to the music to write well. Let’s try it again tonight with the same music and see if the initial charm has worn off.

 J. Gunnar Grey, Part 2:  Over a thousand words written while listening, 1 CD=48 minutes x 2. Considering how slowly I usually write, that’s an amazing word count. Oh, and the first chapter is finally finished to my satisfaction.

 Brea Essex: Okay, my results: I wrote for 30 minutes to Mozart, and got 930 words. I wrote for 30 minutes to my regular playlist (all songs with words) and got 988. I’m not noticing much of a difference in sentence construction or language. I have to say, though, that this is the most productive I’ve been all week!

 Jennifer Comeaux:  I listen to my local classical station while I work and they announced Mozart next, so I took out my notebook. 270 words during a 30 minute piece. It was mostly dialogue, but there is one sentence of narrative I’m rather fond of :)

Kay Springsteen: I found myself more focused on the story, less distractible. I have a tendency to layer in details afterward and while I wrote to Mozart, I discovered that I did not have as many to layer in after I had completed scenes—the details seemed to flow into the scene naturally without me having to go back and clean up or add to what I’d written.

I’m very interested in other people who perform tasks to music—could be writing, editing, studying, reading, a completely unrelated task (like surgery or cooking dinner). Have you ever tried Mozart in the background?

And feel free to stop by my blog this week for the Save a Turkey: Gobble a Book Blog Hop. Anyone who comments on my blog wins a PDF copy of their choice – 20 different books to choose from. Then follow the link at the end of the blog  to more blogs and prizes.

 

Terrific Releases Tuesday


A Surprising Day, by Ava Delany

***NOTE: Prequel to The Wedding Night.***

Todd and Debbie engage in a game of strip poker that has bigger stakes than either of them expected.

Todd thinks Debbie is the sexiest woman alive, despite the hideous Happy Burger uniform she’s wearing. The tatts peeking from beneath her tan outfit and the band-aid that’s not quite covering the ring in her nose tell him she’s just the girl for him. Unfortunately, she seems to think he’s a geek. Damn, why didn’t he change his clothes after his interview? It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll just have to convince her to take it all off him with a game of strip poker. Then she’ll see who he really is, and he’ll see what hides beneath her bland clothes.

Debbie can’t believe the dorky-looking guy who’s been staring at her since he and his friend sat down has the nerve to ask her out. No way! She’d never agree to go out with such a square. Then Todd bets he can surprise her, and Debbie accepts the challenge. Partly because she loves a good bet, but mostly because something dark and sexy in his eyes tells her he might be worth it. She’s shocked when he comes to pick her up in a sexy black truck with barbed-wire on the grill, and when he gets her back to his place for a game of strip poker, she finds the evening’s surprises may never sto

Excerpt

“What are we going to play?”

“Strip poker.” The corner of his mouth lifted, revealing a slight dimple.

She cocked her head, watching him for a moment. He sat across from her, with no emotion exposed. A great poker face. Well, a bet was a bet.

“Deal.” She tapped the table in front of her, and took another drink. “But I get to pick the game.”

“Order it up.”

“Five card stud. Show ‘em if you got ‘em. Nice and easy.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and moved her hand toward the pile in front of her.

He nodded and started to deal, fingers flying as the cards hit the table.

“Ah ah ah,” he said, waving a finger like a school teacher, “antes on the table first.”

He grasped his shoe, jerking it off his foot, and placing it on the table. She unbuckled her jacket and placed it next to the shoe. Her black tank top and leather shorts would have to come off before her thigh highs and garter, but she had both shoes before she got to that point.

“This is a standing ante,” he said, his eyes wandering over her in a way that made her want to stretch and expose more of her body to him. “That means whoever wins isn’t allowed to remove their ante and put it back on. You only win the other person’s clothes, but you can’t wear them. And you can’t win your own clothes back.”

Slick. Good way to get naked quick.

“All right.” She hoisted an eyebrow. “I can agree to that.”

A moment later, when their cards dropped onto the table, he’d dealt himself a pair of twos and her a pair of sixes. She wiggled her eyebrows, and collected the shoe. He went for the other shoe, but she put out a hand to stop him.

“Come on now. You aren’t really going to give me another shoe are you? Are you afraid to take off something more substantial?”


Why I’m excited.

Todd and Debbie were super fun, in the sequel.

—-
April Dawn
-Author of Crushing Desire and Bound by Love available now through Breathless Press, All Romance, and Kindle.

Naughty Can Be Nice – Cynthia Selwyn


Since the holiday season is upon us (stop groaning, I’ve got hot man chest and a great excerpt for you) I thought I’d post an excerpt from a great Christmas story. Naughty Can Be Nice, by Cynthia Selwyn

Santa hears all your wishes and makes them come true. Especially when they’re naughty…because naughty can be nice.

Legal guardian Brenna O’Brien didn’t expect to become a single mom, especially of seven-year-old twins with troubles. What she needs is a good dose of sexual pleasure to swipe all her emotional burdens away.

Kris Kringle, Jr. doesn’t want to fill in for his dad. But when he meets a lovely lady at a Christmas party, he changes his mind; he wouldn’t mind filling her…stocking. One wish is all it takes for the sexy Santa she met to appear in her living room, wearing nothing but his boots, his red velvet hat and a silver bow.

Because at Christmas, all heartfelt wishes can come true.

Excerpt

She decided to put on her robe and worry about a shower after she’d checked on the girl. Moments later, she returned to the kitchen to see her dream man—Kris, Gracie had called him—and her niece, eating pancakes at the table.
“Good morning,” he purred, getting to his feet and leaning to kiss her cheek; his scruffy stubble scraped her skin and the warmth of his lips made her face tingle. She shivered as goose bumps patterned her skin and little zings of—desire?—raced through her body. She touched her palm to her cheek and stared up into his blue-ice eyes.
Gracie hopped out of her chair, raced to her, wrapped her arms around her waist and pressed her cheek to Brenna’s belly, distracting her from the sex god standing by her kitchen table.
“Hi, Auntie Brenna. Kris said he’s helping us put up our tree today. He said he’s really good at it.” The little girl’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Brenna hadn’t seen such joy on her niece’s face since before her parents died. She looked up at Kris. He raised his eyebrows—reddish brown like his scruff.
“It’s true. I am.”
She swallowed. “I need to talk to you a minute. Could you come with me?”
“I already did.” He winked.
It should have annoyed her because it was so inappropriate and cheeky, but all she could do was flush and shiver with recollection and desire. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the living room, where she noticed unmistakably sooty footprints on her beige carpet. “Okay, who are you and what are you doing here?”
“My name is KristofferKringle, and I’m here because you wished me to be,” he said. “Because this year, I’m Santa Claus.”
Brenna shook her head. Had she heard him correctly? Was she still dreaming?
Was she insane? Had she finally snapped? Or was he some psychopath with a Claus complex? “S-S-Santa?”
“You saw my hat, didn’t you? My boots? The way I came down the chimney?”
She looked at the boot prints on the carpet. “Yes, but…”
“Remember? You wished for me.” He shrugged, as if that explained everything. “And here I am.”
But it didn’t make sense. Santa was a myth. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Kris looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. Then he turned and walked to the fireplace, laid his finger to the side of his nose and nodded.
Up the chimney he rose. There was a bang, a crash and a curse; soot poofed from the grate in a great cloud that made Brenna cough. But Kris was gone.
A split second later, he reappeared, walking out of the kitchen as if he’d never vanished up the chimney. His reddish-blond mane was streaked with sticky black creosote, and there was ash smudged on his high cheekbones. He looked like a Viking after the funeral of a friend.
“I hate that. I feel like a shake being sucked through a straw.” He shuddered. “Do you believe in me, now?”
She couldn’t. She didn’t. “I’ve gone crazy.”
Kris stepped closer, reached out and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “No, darling. You haven’t. You and I…we’re meant to be.” With that, he dropped his mouth to hers.

A little fun for Wednesday blog….


Hey everyone, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks so I sat down this weekend and decided to write a short intro…what I thought would be fun is to have y’all read it and come up with a possible “scenario” which could have gotten “Myra” into her situation…I’m curious to see what kind of warped imagination my fellow writers have…I’m sure I won’t be disappointed…  :)

Myra squinted from the bright light that filtered through the small window in the center of the ceiling. She moved to get up but found that something prevented her from doing so. Looking down at her wrists she saw the two-inch thick shackles chained to the stonewall behind her. Panic struck through her like a thunderbolt. A similar belt like shackle was clamped around her waist and held her securely to the wall, leaving only about two or three feet of chain for movement. The shackles had been positioned in such a way, to keep her at knee level at all times.

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it would burst right out of her chest. Tears flooded her eyes and clouded her vision as she stared at the slab of black wall in front of her. Horror was sinking in and her mind swarmed with questions she doubted would ever be answered. Myra closed her eyes tightly and forced herself to remember something, anything, but the only thing she could see was the flash of light just before the plane went down.

The plane…oh my god she thought, all those people, gone. Did they all die? Or were they prisoners like her? Was she a prisoner? If so, who was her jailer? Or what? Hell, was this hell? No! No! No! It couldn’t be she was a good person! She always did the right thing…It wasn’t fair she shouldn’t be punished! She felt sick to her stomach.

Tears streamed down her face, she sobbed uncontrollably and bent to hug her knees and roll her self into a fetal position. The chains wouldn’t allow it, preventing even this simplest attempt at self-comfort.

Myra sank back against the stonewall behind her. As the hopelessness of the situation began to sink in, she looked around the tiny cell. It was only about 6 feet wide and 8 feet long, she guessed. The walls were dark; smooth not quite black but a glossy shade of dark gray. There was no visible door or even an outlining of a way out. The floor was made of the same stone as the walls and felt cold and damp beneath her knees.

Again, she saw no evidence of an exit or entrance for that matter. The only opening of any kind was the window carved in to the ceiling that was at least fifteen feet high, and impossible for her to reach.

Steadying her breathing, Myra leaned back against the wall again, a chill raced down her bare back as it touched the surface. Suddenly she realized that she was cold, very cold. Looking down at her exposed breasts, it suddenly occurred to her that she was naked.

 Humiliated, she squeezed her legs together and sat on the hunches of her feet trying to cover up as best she could. Realizing the silliness of that action. She slumped back and gave up hope. Her eyes began to blur before she finally gave in to exhaustion.

 Happy Reading!

Emma