My daughter introduced me to my new obsession, darn her! Have you heard of Poppy?
I hadn’t either, but last night while I was visiting at her house, she and the 14-year-old were cackling over Poppy’s latest. I watched one to see what had them so engaged. I didn’t get it. So, I had to watch another, then another, then… Yeah, now I’m a subscriber.
Poppy is quirky and downright creepy. If I were writing her into a story, she’d be an AI entity ready to take over the world and enslave mankind.
Dragons are creatures of myth, Do you wish there were really dragons. Of course, in the early stories about dragons, they’re not the good guys. We read those old myths and learn dragons were evil creatures who gathered treasures they fiercely protected. In those tales, dragons also kidnapped and feasted on young women until a hero came into the picture and slew the dragon and rescued the maiden, often a princess. St. George slew the dragon, so it’s been said.
Where did these myths appear? There are fables about dragons on every continent. Asian dragons have no wings. Those from Europe and other places. Dragons can breathe fire. Many can fly. They can be found inland or flying over the oceans. Dragons hoard treasure.
Years ago, I found a coffee table book called Dragonology by Ernest Drake.
I used this book when designing dragons for my stories. There are many stories about dragons these days. I’ve read many of them. My favorite being Anne McCaffrey’s Dragons of Pern. Naomi Novak used the Regency period for her dragon stories. Mercedes Lackey also has a series featuring dragons. There are many more.
On the shelf above my computer are about forty dragons. All manner of dragons. Ones from cloth, glass, metal and plastic. Every year I receive a new dragon ornament for my Christmas tree. I finally delved into writing about dragons. The first is a novella where a snooty princess is turned into an amber dragon. This story is found in a series of novellas in The Amber Chronicles. The second and third are part of a series about the island of Fyre. The Dragons of Fyre and the third is still under construction hopefully for release in March—The Children of Fyre.
Question. What are your favorite dragon authors and books? Let me know and I’ll enter you in a contest to receive a print copy of one of my books about using dragons as characters. You’ll have to let me know your email address so I can contact you.
UPDATE: The two winners are…Jeanette Whetzel and Charlene Michael!
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I’m in the doldrums. That space where, as a writer, I stall for a bit before the wind picks up and I’m sailing fast again.
Last week, I finished a story. One I had to push hard to reach The End. Adrenaline helped, because I was staring at an immoveable deadline. As soon as I wrapped up production and uploaded the sucker, I revised my plan and my bullet journal, and aimed at the next couple of hard deadlines, but then the wind died down. Ugh.
Lots of things are percolating, bubbling up like a fictional witch’s green, smelly goop. Stories I want to write, stories I have to edit. I took a bit of “me” time to hang with my daughter, which included a couple of days of shopping and junking. I played at cleaning up my workspace. Now, I have to get serious. Make myself afraid I’ll miss my dates. That’s the only way to motivate myself. I am an adrenaline junkie, and I’ve convinced myself over the years that I’m most creative when I’m riding that high. Huh. I need to change that internal narrative, because someday, I do want to be that plodding, methodical writer, who has “balance” in her life—not that I’ve ever met her.
Now, so many days have passed since I revamped my plan, that I have to revamp again, increasing my daily writing and editing page counts, in order to meet those hard dates. Here goes again…
Offer your thoughts for how I can goad myself into pushing through this slump to get back on track, and I’ll offer two stories, to two winners, readers’ choices!
A Spirited Girl. A Reluctant Dom. Fated Mates. Bridling Lucy by Sierra Brave Horse Mountain Shifters Book #3
Release Date: January 11, 2019
Genre: Adult, Romance, Paranormal, Spanking
Stubborn, prideful and self-disciplined, Chance Locklear believes his way is always right, and he doesn’t like hiccups is in his strict routine so when the matriarch of his equine-shifter clan saddles him with a spoiled, twenty-one-year-old brat from out-of-town, he’s none too pleased.
While growing up as a member of a rogue-shifter clan, Lucy Tate didn’t have the luxury of an easy or predictable life, but she’s learned to live with her parent’s self-centered behavior causing problems for her or leaving her in the lurch. When her step-father’s latest hijinks force her to abandon her job as a blackjack dealer and skip town, she resents having to live with a stranger and work as a maid while hiding out. To make matters worse, she’s been placed in the care of an arrogant but sexy game warden/werehorse who demands her respect.
The first time Chance pulled her over his lap for a spanking, she was shocked and angry, but her body reacted to his touch in a completely different way. Just as the two begin to give into their shared attraction and admit they are fated mates, outside forces show up to pull them apart. Will destiny, love, and amazing sex be enough to save their relationship?
Warning: Bridling Lucy is a smoking hot, stand-alone romance with graphic sexual language. If you are offended by corporal punishment/adult discipline or sizzling, put-you-in-the-moment love scenes, you might want to look for another book.
EXCERPT
“Doesn’t matter. Truck’s not locked.” He reached out and then opened the door. “Hop up and drive.”
“Whoo hoo!” Lucy jumped in the driver’s seat, and after bucking her seatbelt, she cranked the engine.
Chance had barely gotten seated and was still closing the door as she took off in reverse. “Good Lord, woman!” He slammed his door shut before he grabbed the handle by the roof, hanging on for dear life with one hand while fastening his seatbelt with the other.
Lucy put the car in drive before heading down the dirt path serving as a driveway. She rolled down the window and smiled as the wind blew through her hair.
“It feels amazing to be behind the wheel again.”
She glanced at Chance just in time to see him remove his hat and the tie holding his long, black hair back in a low ponytail. As she maneuvered along a curve, the breeze flowed through his gorgeous locks, and her heart skipped a beat as he glanced at her. His full lips pursed together in a smirk as he did his best not to laugh. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”
“Oh, I am. Mama was so stingy on the long drive here—she wouldn’t let me behind the wheel at all.” She turned on the radio, tuning into a station playing hip hop and then bobbed and swayed as she tore up the road.
“You’re going to need to take the next right.”
She glanced at him. “That’s not the way to Ms. Banks’ house. Are we going straight to your place?”
“Yeah.”
She frowned. “I’ve been working all day. I wanted to freshen up.”
“You look terrific and smell sweet. Please, let’s go to my place.”
“Alright then.” She flipped on the signal before making the turn.
Chance grabbed the handle again. “I can see why your mama wouldn’t let you drive. Would you slow down?”
She flashed him a toothy grin. “What’s the fun in that?”
“The fun is in not flipping my truck and killing us both. Plus, you have to turn again soon. Now be a good girl so I don’t have to spank your behind before dinner.”
Lucy’s couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but with her bottom still raw from the whooping she received that morning, she applied her foot to the break. For the rest of the drive to his house, she behaved, following his directions.
Sierra Brave is a multi-published author of smoking hot romance. She writes across genres, dabbling in a little bit of everything, including ménage and BDSM. Her love of erotic fiction started in her last year of high school when she first read the sensual classic, Fanny Hill. She felt so naughty yet liberated with her copy tucked away in her book bag and hopes her work will have the same delicious effect on her readers.
I’d love to share my 10th book, Her Deception. This is my second M. M. Mayfield book. Choosing a title isn’t easy as some folks think it is. My working title was Angel, since my main character adopts the name Angel when she leaves her husband to return to stripping. So now you know! I called this book my stripper book. That gets some curious looks. After checking Amazon for titles, I discarded The Stripper’s Revenge, Angel’s Revenge, Their Deception and Their Secrets. So here is Her Revenge, my stripper book.
Her Deception
The day Patrice heard her husband order a hit to be done quickly or his ass wouldn’t be worth anything, she knew she had to leave him. The only way she knew to investigate him and his people was by returning to stripping where she would meet the people who dealt in death, drugs, and prostitution. When she worked her way through college she learned more about crime than she ever wanted to know.
Why would anyone believe Hugh, the man who played golf with the mayor of the a small town on the outskirts of Atlanta, Georgia, who socialized with the chief of police in that town and respected business owner had a second life one involving crimes? Who would believe a former stripper over this man?
Excerpt…
By the time Patrice searched every surface of furniture in every room in the house, she felt drained. Tomorrow she’d make an appearance at her office, attend the staff meeting.
Tomorrow she’d clear out with resources to start a new life away from this house. She’d miss the things she’d done to change a sterile, fashionable showplace into a beautiful home. If she could get the goods on Hugh, he’d go to jail and everything would likely be confiscated.
Nothing she took must be traced back to her.
She grabbed Hugh’s car keys and searched his Mercedes. One slip of paper between the seats contained a combination of numbers and letters. These she copied. She dared not leave anything that would catch the attention of the car’s proud owner. She had actually seen her husband take out a monogrammed silk handkerchief and wipe a speck of dust from the dashboard. He’d notice any minor damage to the carpet or any lining or cover moved, so she had to stop her search.
Exhausted, but keyed-up, Patrice went back to the master bathroom upstairs and filled the whirlpool tub to soak. For the last time she poured her favorite bath salts, a gift from Hugh.
Climbing into the tub, she sank up to her neck in foaming water. Even over the noise of the water jets, she heard the hateful words echoing. “Get the job done before Friday or forget the price we discussed. If the man is alive to stand trial, we’re all dead.”
She didn’t want to hear them. Enough already, think about something else. Blue Atlanta skies, magnolia blossoms, fragrant honeysuckle, juicy ripe peaches, symphony music, the man who introduced her to the world of Atlanta culture.
Warmth melted her bones and moving water lulled her. “We don’t pay you to think. Just kill the man like we told you to. Make it look good, the way you always have. My employers don’t leave loose ends alive, you should know that.”
Patrice woke with a start in a tub of cold water. Was someone in the house? Had she really heard the hateful words or has she dreamed them? She stood shivering as she grabbed her towel from the warming rack and wrapped it around her body. She listened. No thumps, no footsteps. Surely her subconscious had awakened her to keep her from drowning in her bath.
Surely the noise had been her imagination, like the sound of Hugh’s voice moments ago. She yanked her soft robe from its hook on the door, then put it on. Grabbing her cell phone and the gun on the ledge of the tub – she had kept them within reach – she crept to her room.
The downstairs alarm hadn’t gone off, but a woman couldn’t be too careful. If Hugh had returned home early he’d have called out to her. He didn’t know she had heard him order a man killed.
Carrying her gun and cell phone she eased into the hall and searched. Her guilty conscience made her jumpy. Since there would be no sleep for her, she selected a few of her books and other items Hugh wouldn’t notice were missing.
She emptied jewelry cases into the bag with lingerie and sleepwear. The street-smart person knew to take salable things, so she filled an overnight bag with Hugh’s watches and rings. He’d think they’d been robbed, a false trail.
Once she’d moved that suitcase down to the garage, she selected her two most expensive furs. She lugged them down to the garage and put them in her car’s trunk.
Since she’d done everything, she went to her bedroom to rest. She mussed the bed. Her cook and housekeeper would believe this morning was just like any other morning.
For the few hours she dozed, she didn’t rest well. A memory made her bolt straight up in bed. Vacations. Foreign banks. Yeah, she and Hugh had visited one bank in the Bahamas and one in Switzerland. What had they been called? She didn’t sleep, but she did remember details about off shore banks.
Update! The entire family has decided that AQUAMAN is the best super-hero movie ever! We LOVED it! I will say, the dialog wasn’t the best (that honor goes to the two DEADPOOL movies!), but we loved the humor, the CGI-ocean scenery and creatures (I want a seahorse!), and the non-stop action! And of course, for all the girls, Jason Momoa WET for over two hours was a divine treat!
Just a reminder. ANIMAL will release a little after midnight tomorrow night! I hope you’ll keep it on you TBR-right now list! It’s fun and very sexy!
Oh, and I had another really weird dream last night. I know, like you care, right? But dang, I have to share anyway.
Last night, I dreamed that my dad was back in the hospital and scheduled for release. So, I got all domestic and made a stew that took me nine days to get right (I’m guessing that nursery rhyme “…in the pot, nine days old” was in my head). Anyway, he arrived home and I gave him the Christmas present I’d made him—a hand-painted ceramic head of Santa Claus (yeah, don’t know where that came from). He looked at it and put it aside. Said “that’s nice”, which told me he wasn’t impressed, and them my mom popped into the kitchen and brought him back a bowl of steaming…ramen. I was so pissed she hadn’t served him the reindeer stew I’d slaved over, especially given the fact that every time I went outside, Santa’s reindeer attacked me because Donner was in the pot!
Tomorrow, it’s back to the grindstone. I’m starting a new story, Big Sky Wedding, which will revisit Jamie and Sky from Big Sky SEAL. I’ll also be finishing up reading all those sexy Stranded stories, and working on edits for an author friend. So, busy, busy! Have a great week, y’all! ~DD
I’m in the doldrums. That space where, as a writer, I stall for a bit before the wind picks up and I’m sailing fast again.
About the Author
