I’m crazy busy here. How about you? I’d love to hear all about it.

I’ll catch you up on what’s happening in my life.

First, there’s little Siobhán… Adorable, right? And she’s turned all our lives upside down. I’m doing a lot of babysitting while mama takes care of her menagerie of animals and the other two girls. All of which cuts into my writing time, but I won’t complain. Ever.

Then there are the two horses we adopted from the equine rescue group, Brandi and Whiskey. No, the one on the right isn’t a baby. He’s full-grown, and doesn’t look like a pony so much as a tiny, tiny horse he’s so well-proportioned. The SIL is helping dad fortify fences so we can let them into different pasture areas. We have to arrange for a vet to come out this week. And then there’s the trainer we have to hire… But they are lovely and gentle. They both have sad stories. Brandi and her mom were starved when they were rescued. Little Whiskey was kept on a short rope and halter so long that the halter grew into his nose. We can’t wait to for the kids to be able to ride them.

As for the writing…

You probably already know I wrapped up the Crescent Moon serial. The book is available in its entirety on Amazon. If you read it, I’d love it if you’d leave a review. Those help other readers make their decisions about whether they should buy a book or not, so your opinion does count!

I finished revisions of a long, full-length BDSM-suspense novel set in the Louisiana bayou with a wealthy, ex-SEAL hero who arrives with his entourage of ex-military best friends to reclaim his crumbling plantation house and meets a home-town girl. Sorry folks, Her Only Desire doesn’t release until next year…

Based on editorial comments, I have a little more work to put in on Cowboy Heat, so all you authors out there who are still waiting on decisions whether you are in the anthology or not, you have to wait just a little while longer. I’m almost there. Promise!

I have three novellas to complete in the next three weeks–one military story, a cowboy story, and a calendar man story. Think I can do it? Cripes. I better start writing now!

On other fronts…

I’ll be at a writer’s retreat this weekend with friends from the Diamond State Romance Authors and my sister, Elle James/Myla Jackson! I need it! Time away from all the distractions at home.

On the 28th, I’ll be setting up a table at the Bismarck Craft Show to sell jewelry. And then there’s the Artist’s Studio Tour I’ll be participating in mid-October…

And I think there is a booksigning in Little Rock sometime in November, but I’ll have to post those dates later.

I think that’s everything. I hope you all are happy and doing well. I’m happy, but just a little out of my mind trying to keep all those balls in the air…  😉

On Co-Authoring

Co-authoring is something that I’d vaguely thought about, but never really in any great detail. That is, until, towards the back end of 2012, my good friend and fellow writer Lily Harlem suggested co-authoring something together. I explained I had a few projects on, so I couldn’t start right away, but I would definitely be interested. She was busy too, so we said we’d start in the early part of 2013, when all the Christmas and New Year festivities were over and done with, and life was back to normal.

The writing bug bit Lily, however, and in December she sent me a chapter that had just come to her, so she’d written it down. I managed to read it quickly, but knew I still wouldn’t be able to do anything with it until January. I was eager to try out co-authoring, but other commitments had to take priority.

Then 2013 arrived. I’d cleared my commitments and was free to start something new – hurrah! I read the chapter again and then bombarded Lily with a million and one questions about the process of co-authoring, how she thought it would work, our intended publisher, and so on. I was very lucky in that a) Lily had co-authored many times before so knew how it worked b) she was very, very patient with me and answered all my questions c) that our writing styles are quite similar, so that although we wrote from separate character viewpoints, our respective sections would still fit together well and d) we know each other well enough to give constructive and honest feedback that will be truly helpful, rather than trying to sugar coat anything for the sake of being nice.

And so we began. The chapter Lily had written back in December was from the female perspective and I was happy to write from the male perspective. I’ve done it many times before and enjoy it very much. We’d already agreed that if things didn’t work out, we wouldn’t worry too much about it, so I opened the document and began to write without thinking too hard. We had no plan, no idea what on earth the book was going to be about, really, just that it would be an erotic romance. Despite this, the words came. Fast.

After writing a chapter of roughly the same length as Lily’s, I skim read it and sent it back to her. And thus the mad email exchange began. Prior to this project I’d only written one full-length novel by myself and found it a learning curve, albeit it a fun and very satisfying project, but often I had to force myself to carry on and not procrastinate. With this book, however, it was totally different. It was full of surprises – because we hadn’t planned it, the chapters we sent back to one another were a total surprise, and we both had to think on our feet to work out where the plot would go next. We’d agreed not to rush one another for chapters as we both had other things on, too, and although we didn’t pressure one another, we still produced the words at lightning speed (for me, anyway!). I grew eager to read Lily’s next chapter, to see where the characters – which I’d quickly grown very fond of – would go next, what they would do. There was very, very little procrastination! None, really. Just lots of use of Google Street View.

The only thing we’d really planned was that the book would be longer than 50,000 words – to make it novel length. We did discuss how it would end, but never made a set decision, we just decided to keep writing and hope it came to a natural conclusion. We agreed that because Lily had written the first chapter, that I would write the last. That was the only time throughout the project that I felt pressure – and it was from myself, not my co-author. I had to write the last chapter, therefore the ending, therefore it had to be good, and satisfying! I put my fingers to the keys of my laptop and hoped that what came out would be good. When I finished the final chapter I read it again and made tweaks, then decided that no benefit would come of me staring at it – so I sent it to Lily. And waited with bated breath for her reply. Read the rest of this entry »

This week’s theme is “Be My Baby” and I have a scene from my recent release (doesn’t that just sound dirty?) that I’d like to share. Sure, Tommy Triplehorn’s “Be My Baby” avowal isn’t wrapped in a pretty pink bow, but it’s effective, don’t you think? Besides, I love a man who knows what he wants and isn’t gonna suffer any fools!

 If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win
a free download of this book!

When two lonely hearts collide, age becomes just a number.

Sarah Colby’s marriage was over long ago, but she’s never shed the scars her abusive husband left behind. Add the one shameful indiscretion from her past, an affair with a much younger man, and she’s haunted by that long ago summer.

Tommy Triplehorn is happy his brothers have settled down and started families of their own, but he’s feeling a little smothered by all that domesticity. Carousing and drinking no longer holds a thrill, and he thinks he knows the reason why. He’s waited long enough for Sarah Colby to get over being ashamed of their shared past. He’s old enough to know what he wants, and he wants her.

Warning: A cowboy on a mission to seduce will do whatever it takes, including offering his woman a no-holds-barred weekend of sex, even a ménage with a friend, to prove he’ll fulfill her every sexy need…

Sarah heard the slamming of a vehicle door in the distance and wondered who it might be coming this late at night.

When she opened her front door and stepped out under the porch, her eyes widened on the figure stomping through her grass. “Tommy?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even appear to be looking at her. His head was down, the brim of his hat hiding his face, but the clenched fists were telling.

Her heart stopped and then sluggishly began thudding in her chest. She backed up toward her door, reaching behind her for the knob.

Tommy stomped up the steps, his boots slamming against the wood, until he stood in front of her, gazing down with his storm-cloud eyes. “You didn’t call,” he said, his voice gruff.

Tommy angry was different from Paul Colby in a snit. Something she shouldn’t have to remind herself about. She let go of the knob and leaned back against the wood, staring up into the face she’d dreamed about every night when she’d laid in her bed alone. “You didn’t call,” she said softly, repeating his words.

Moisture filled his eyes and he glanced away blinking. “It was your choice. It was always your choice. Either you accepted me, or you used that weekend to get me out of your system. I waited for your call.”

Sarah dropped her head, wanting to hide her face so he couldn’t see her expression, couldn’t guess what a coward she’d been. He’d been so proud of her that weekend, loving the fact she’d let go of her fears and inhibitions. But the moment she’d come back home, she’d been assailed with doubts.

Caldera wasn’t Abilene. People knew them both. And there was the fact she hadn’t been completely honest with him about the baggage she’d bring to their marriage. The fact she was barren.

“I was afraid,” she whispered. “Afraid that I wouldn’t be strong enough to tell you, or if I told you that you would brush away the truth like it didn’t matter, when I know it will.”

Tommy stepped closer, so close his boots touched hers and his chest crowded against her breasts. When he looked down, the intensity of his stare nearly shredded her resolve. She wanted nothing more than to melt against him, cling to him. She wanted him to carry her inside and tear the clothes from her body. She wanted him deep inside her, her body wrapped around him while he plunged toward her center, baring her heart.

“I can’t give you children,” she said, tears blinding her. “I can’t get pregnant—not without a lot of medical intervention, and even then…”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly, pressing closer, his hands landing on the sandstone wall behind her.

She smacked his shoulders and shoved against him. “Of course it matters!” she cried brokenly. “It matters,” she whispered, then slid down, only to be propped up by the thigh he pushed between her legs.

“You’re out of excuses,” he whispered.

“Excuses?” She dashed away her tears with the back of a hand.

“Yeah, never heard such whinin’—too old, barren—you make it sound like all you have to offer a man is your cunt and your womb.”

She gasped. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me, Sarah Colby. I’m not buyin’ it. Your little pity party has cost me nearly a month of lost sleep. My dick’s raw from me rubbin’ on it because I can’t get you out of my head.” Read the rest of this entry »

Friday the 13 – scary or just like any other day?

My pen name was supposed to be blogging today about her erotic paranormal short story collection but I muscled in because it’s Friday the 13th! A day synonymous with horror, especially the series of movies by the same name, and my current release is a horror short story.

I love Friday the 13th. Weird, I know, since most people stay away from anything with 13 in it. But I was born on the 13th. And I do love horror movies. And when the 13th happens on a Friday I want to cozy up on the sofa with my fiancé, with a big bowl of popcorn, the lights turned off so the only light is the flickering of the images on the TV, and watch a few of the Friday the 13th movies. I loved the first one. Really liked the second one too. They were still sort of fresh back then. And slightly (slightly) plausible. The killer in both had a believable motive for killing over-sexed camp counselors. With each sequel they just got ridiculous though. But still, I watched them. Because if there’s something better than a really good horror movie, it’s a really bad horror movie. 

Although I’m against remakes (there are too many brilliant new screenwriters trying to break in to be reusing old material) I did watch the remake of Friday the 13th. And no it wasn’t just because Jared Padalecki was in it. Okay, well maybe it was a little because of that.  😀  But I did want to see how they redid the franchise and if they could breathe some new life into the movies. I was disappointed. Of course if a franchise is working, Hollywood will keep making movies so eventually there will be a Friday the 13th Part 13. Do I think it will be horrible? Yes. Will I watch it anyway? Of course. 🙂

What about you? Do you like horror movies? Will you be watching any of the Friday the 13th movies tonight?

My current release isn’t a Friday the 13th wannabe but it is about a group of friends who end up in the wrong place and end up fighting for their lives.

Stay away from the mirrors

A road trip without a plan sounded like a good idea when Lena and her friends hit the road. A mini vacation and support for Steve, recently dumped, have the friends travelling through small towns and back roads. After hours of driving in the heat in a cramped car they’re all ready for something to eat and a good night’s rest.

Reflections Inn looks perfect for the group of friends. Though a little run down, it hides a supernatural horror.

Don’t read the curse

Everything looks normal when they check in, except an old woman yelling about a curse. Intrigued, some of the friends decide to investigate. Some stay behind and learn about the curse first hand.

Run

A curse that replaces people with their repressed alter egos forces the friends to fight for their lives. And they realize they didn’t know each other as well as they thought.

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About Cindy: Cindy Carroll is a member of Sisters in Crime and a graduate of Hal Croasmun’s screenwriting ProSeries. Her interviews with writers of CSI and Flashpoint appeared in The Rewrit, the Scriptscene newsletter, the screenwriting Chapter of RWA. She writes screenplays, thrillers, and paranormals, occasionally exploring an erotic twist. A background in banking and IT doesn’t allow much in the way of excitement so she turns to writing stories that are a little dark and usually have a dead body. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her fiancé and three cats. When she’s not writing you can usually find her painting landscapes in oil or trying space paintings with spray paint.

You know when you see that title on a blog that I have my head down writing and don’t have that much time to think!

The only news I want to make sure you know about is the fact Crescent Moon is now available in its entirety for download. Think mummies, Egyptian gods and New Orleans. They kinda go together, don’t they? 🙂

Have fun with the question. I can’t wait to see your answers.

If you could wave a fashion wand and bring back
any style  from the past, what would it be?

Inspiration in the Details

Before setting down to get my blog on, I took a quick Q&A on my Facebook page.  Turns out people were curious about two things.  My obvious doggy love and where my inspiration comes from.

Since I aim to please, I thought we’d discuss both topics.  In my debut release, Morning Light, we meet Bo.  A yellow Labrador our heroine Tennyson has rescued.  When I sit down with a character, I like to develop them into someone I’d actually be friends with.  All of my favorite heroes and heroines are people I’d actually like to know, and I use this rule of thumb when writing them as well.  Also, if Jim Butcher is reading this, I’d really like to meet Harry Dresden—just sayin’.

Tenn is a likeable chick; she’s downright awesome, and I certainly didn’t need to work hard to make her more likeable.  She was a fully formed heroine from the moment she popped into my head.  More importantly Tenn has a heart of gold, she’s certainly the type of woman that would feed and rescue an abandoned dog.

When Bo arrived on the page, I knew Tenn would take him in and love and pamper him.  Abandoned and neglected pets are my weak spot.  Ask my husband, he’ll tell you all about how I’m a total sucker for a needy animal.  He likes to grumble, but when it comes down to it he’s the one on the floor wrestling and rough housing with them.  He’s all bluster.  With four dogs ranging in size from one hundred ten pounds all the way down to eleven, he’s quite the expert at my soft spot.

When we bought our home, many moons ago, it was a matter of a few measly days before I came home with my very own yellow Lab mix.  No furniture to speak of, freshly painted walls, and a brand new puppy.  We named him Truman and he’s still kicking, just a bit slower than he used to in those early days.  He’s a rock star.  And I’m totally biased.

But there’ll be a day he’s not with us and I’ll be a heartbroken disaster.  So, when the time came to write a big oaf of a Lab into my very first book, it only made sense that Truman would be my inspiration.  I mean, really, it wasn’t even a conscious decision.  He’s just that awesome.

I loved Bo so much in the first book that he’s making quite the appearance in the second in the series.  I also have it on good authority that he’ll be around in book three.

And you can expect to see appearances from my other three heathens some day too.  With a chocolate Lab mix that looks like she’s part brown bear-beaver, a Husky mix that outweighs every other dog in the house, and a little runt Doxie that’s all big dog attitude, I’ll never run out of inspiration for fun dog characters.

We might be maxed out on rescues at our house, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good pet story.  Leave a comment telling me all about your pet(s) and their personalities and I’ll give away one free ebook of Morning Light to a lucky reader!  Contest will end September 14^th at midnight and the winner will be randomly chosen and announced the next day.

You can find me at: www.coracade.com or join me on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/CoraCade.

*****

His toughest battle is ahead—the battle for one woman’s heart.

A Day of Pleasure, Book 1

During Noah Harper’s ten years as an Army Ranger, Tennyson Sharpe’s letters were his lifeline. With each mail call, the bright and vibrant girl of his youth slowly became the woman of his dreams.

Now he’s home—and he’s in hell. The problem? Tenn is his little brother’s best friend. Claiming her risks all kinds of collateral damage.

Tenn is getting nervous. Since Noah came home, they’ve been circling each other, neither willing to risk the status quo. It’s time to kick things up a notch and make a play for the man she’s loved since she was sixteen—before someone else does.

Dressing to impress works better than she could have dreamed. After a scorching interlude leads to a steamy morning wrapped in each other’s arms, reality comes crashing down. Shining a devastating light on Tenn’s deepest fears…and forcing Noah into scramble mode to convince her forever was always on his mind.

Warning:  This book contains some serious foreplay in the great outdoors; stand-up sex with a hot, stand-up guy; and a wounded Army Ranger who’s determined to leave no heart behind—especially the one belonging to the girl of his dreams.

Hello, and a huge thank you to Delilah for hosting me! I’m KJ Charles, and my paranormal romance The Magpie Lord is just out with Samhain. The book is set in Victorian England and —

Excuse me? Victorian England? I came here for erotic romance!

Are you suggesting the Victorians aren’t sexy?

Bonnets? Top hats? Frilly bloomers on their piano legs? That is not sexy.

Did you know that Victorian women could go to the doctor for an orgasm?

Say what?

True. Women suffering from ‘hysteria’, a catch-all diagnosis for being overwrought, emotionally unstable or (as we’d see it) frustrated, could go to the doctor, who would induce a ‘hysterical paroxysm’ to relieve the symptoms. Guess what a hysterical paroxysm is?

You are having a laugh.

Nope. The electric vibrator was invented because doctors complained of repetitive strain injuries to their hands. (‘How was work, dear?’ ‘Exhausting. I had to induce fourteen clitoral orgasms. My fingers are killing me.’ ‘That’s outrageous! You should complain to your boss!’)

Tell me more.

About the Femme de Voyage blow-up doll, perhaps? Or the Victorian obsession with spanking? Go on, ask your local library for a copy of Victorian bestsellers Lady Bumtickler’s Revels or The Whippingham Papers. Or, if you have your m/m kink on, try Sins of the Cities of the Plain, the earliest English gay porn, which includes your actual fan-fiction of a famous real-life transvestite and his noble husband…

All right, you’ve convinced me. The Victorians were as kinky as the rest of us. Carry on.

Thank you.

The Magpie Lord is an m/m paranormal romance, featuring Lord Crane, a smuggler turned earl, and magician Stephen Day, who has every reason to loathe Crane’s family. Stephen has a moral obligation to save Crane from a curse but he does not want to find himself in the devastatingly attractive nobleman’s bed – and in the excerpt below, he’s even ready to abuse his magical gifts to stop himself from giving in to temptation.

I hope you enjoy it! The Magpie Lord is out now with Samhain, and I’ve a free electronic copy to give away – please just comment, ensuring you leave an email address, for a chance to win. (Drawing closes Thursday!)

The shaman knelt before him in the moonlight, painfully close. At some point, Crane wasn’t sure when, he’d moved so that his arms were now resting on Crane’s thighs, warm and heavy. His hair glimmered dark copper in the cold light, and his caressing thumb was sending spangles of sensation up towards Crane’s elbow now.

Crane looked down at him. As if he’d felt the gaze, Stephen looked up, mouth slightly open, and his wide eyes met Crane’s for a long breathless moment.

Crane reached out with his free hand and brushed his thumb slowly over Stephen’s lips, pushing them gently apart, feeling his mouth move softly, opening, accepting the touch. His breath came fast against Crane’s hand. Crane’s need was suddenly, violently urgent after the night’s terror, and Stephen Day was kneeling before him, lips inviting, pupils dilated, a gift to be unwrapped. He pushed his thumb further into the warm mouth and felt a flicker of tongue against his skin, a tentative taste.

“Stephen,” said Crane softly, trying out the name.

Stephen tilted his head back a little. “I…I don’t…”

“Oh, you do.” Crane stroked his fingers possessively over the small chin. “You really do. Lovely boy.”

“I’m twenty-eight,” Stephen said weakly, and Crane’s lips curved, knowing that was surrender.

His hand closed on Stephen’s jaw, pulling him closer. “Come here. Unless you want to stay on your knees, of course,” he added, with a twitch of a brow, and something in the other man’s eyes went suddenly dark.

“Listen to me,” Stephen said. “I have been clearing the abreaction for the last few minutes. This has been dull and uneventful, and you’re keen to go in and do something more interesting than talk to me. I’m very boring and drab and unattractive, after all, and you’d be much happier talking to Mr. Merrick. You want to forget about me and go in, so you’re quite glad to hear that the abreaction has cleared.”

“Has it?” said Crane. “Oh, good. Can we go in?”

“Of course,” mumbled Stephen. He leaned backwards, shifting his bony elbows off Crane’s legs. The moonlight greyed his rather dull, mud-coloured eyes and nondescript features. He looked drawn and tense, almost distressed. Crane didn’t know why.

Please comment for a chance to win The Magpie Lord (or if you want to chat about Victorian kink!) Click on the cover to learn more about the story!