A storyteller, a writer and an author walk into a bar…
…and the punch line is—they’re three different people.
Say whhhhat??? Isn’t a storyteller a writer, and isn’t a writer an author? To my way of thinking, no.
You see, I’m a born storyteller. I love weaving tales about pretty much anything. Ask me about our fabulous house, and I won’t give you the boilerplate rendition of how hubby and I got the best house ever. No. I’ll tell you the story of how we had the longest short sale in history (17 months!), how we looked at countless other houses, but couldn’t imagine any other than the one we got, how our realtor was an angel of mercy, how I got the news we’d be closing on our new house the day after my back surgery…. In other words, a story.
As a storyteller, I sometimes find the actual act of writing beyond frustrating. I know the story, but putting it on paper can be quite challenging for me. There’s no writing a scene three-quarters of the way through the manuscript then jumping to the beginning then the Black Moment. I have to start at the beginning, move to the middle, then the end. And heaven help me if I’m 40k words in only to realize I made a plot boo-boo in chapter three. I can’t simply make a note and move on. Oh, no… It’s back to where I made the fatal mistake, fix it, THEN move on.
A writer, on the other hand (and IMHO), undoubtedly has the discipline to put their butt in a chair and write every day. I believe the folks who pen those books about how to write 10,000 words a day are writers. I can’t image getting 10,000 words written in a day. I’m lucky to get that kind of word count in a month—hell, in two months.
Writers can also quite probably write about almost anything—they can follow the *trends* in the industry. Regency England midget vampires—got it! Teen-aged werewolf bikers—got that, too! My storyteller isn’t nearly so…flexible. A story gets stuck in my head, and I’m sorry, but that’s…the…story…period. Nothing else happens until THAT story is done. (It’s like have a bulldog for a muse…*sigh*)
And what of the *author* you ask? For me, an author is someone who most likely makes BIG BUCKS with his/her writing. So while it’s safe to assume they’re a writer, they may not be a storyteller. Allow me to explain with a well-known example I shall not name. And please, no hate mail if you know who I’m talking about. I sincerely congratulate the author on all her awesome success… However, I take strong issue with her *storytelling* abilities. Case in point—and again in my most humble opinion—there’s no story between the hero and heroine. A lot of sex, yes, but no story. What’s her GMC (goal, motivation and conflict)? What does she want? Why does she want it? What’s keeping her from getting what she wants? After reading the first book in the trilogy, I couldn’t answer those three questions—questions that should be answered after the first chapter. If the main character’s GMC isn’t defined, there’s no structure for the plot. And without a plot, there can’t be a story.
Now, can a storyteller be a writer and also an author, even by my definition? You betchum! I’m sure there are countless storytelling writers who make serious bank with their stories. Unfortunately, I am not one. As an innate storyteller, I must force myself (everyday!) to be a writer. And while I make some money with my books, it’s not what I consider author money or even moderate author money. But despite the many and varied obstacles in my way, I plan keep doing what I love—and that’s telling stories. <grin>
I want to give a huge THANK YOU to the FABulous Delilah Devlin for hosting me today!
Contest
Leave a comment for the chance to win one of the following titles:
Battle-Born Love Battle-Tested Love Erotic Escapades of a Married Couple Naughty Neighborhood On the Corner of Heartache and Hopeful – MIC On the Corner of Heartache and Hopeful – KIRA On the Corner of Heartache and Hopeful – GRACE Shattered Trust Wildflower
Excerpt
Please enjoy the following excerpt from my newest release, On a Knife’s Edge – rated R.
Lynch broke the kiss and grasped the pull tab of the sweatshirt zipper. With purposefully slowness, he lowered it. He bore his gaze into hers, giving Shasta the chance to stop him. She just stared at him with eyes so huge, so round, he thought he’d die within their brown depths.
Once the jacket hung open, he flicked it off her shoulders then skimmed the t-shirt up her torso. She lifted her arms and he pulled the shirt over her head.
He snagged her wrists. “Keep ‘em up, kay?”
Her delicate throat muscles labored as she nodded.
He ghosted his palms over her sports bra then wormed his fingers under the bottom. Still holding her gaze, he tugged it up. She licked her lips and her arms quivered slightly, but didn’t lower. Within seconds, her breasts were bared. He devoured them with his gaze.
They were flawless. The perfect size with two perfectly pearled nipples.
He outlined one areola with his finger. Her body trembled. He shifted her position so she laid prone on the seat, her feet near the handlebars and her head resting on the passenger cushion.
He kissed her again. His balls ached and his cock pounded at twice his heart rate. His hand molded around one breast. The satiny feel sent another shaft of hunger through his blood.
He kissed her eyes closed before nipping his way to her ticklish earlobe. Goose bumps erupted across her skin and her body arched toward him. His mouth journeyed down her delectable flesh to lick the velvet hollow of her neck, then down farther to a rigid nipple. Her body went completely still—almost like she’d stopped breathing—as his lips closed over the puckered crest.
Lynch stroked his tongue over the peak while his hand skimmed across her flat belly to the snug waistband of her jogging shorts.
Shasta braced her heels on the handlebars and elevated her hips. Lynch pulled while she wiggled. At last, he peeled the offending garment off one leg then the other, along with her running shoes. He replaced her socked feet to the outside edge of the handgrips.
Air back up in his chest as he feasted on her spread before him in all her naked glory. Her skin held a slight rosy hue and her earthy, sexy scent filled his senses. Her nest of pussy hair tightened the knot in his belly. He never dreamed he’d see her like this again.
He again gently gripped her wrists and placed her hands on the passenger seat. “You best hold on, Shaly,” he croaked.
Following is the monthly wrap-up I sent to my newsletter subscribers. Just a catch-up to let everyone know what’s new and what’s coming.
Thanks to everyone for your well wishes and prayers. The 7-year-old sailed through her second surgery. Her recovery is going to be long and grueling. But she’s in good spirits when she isn’t complaining about boredom (she’s confined to bed, for the foreseeable future).
I’m still trying to catch with everything I’ve let slide. Keep reading. Below, I have reminders of new stories you can pick up now and lovely, tempting covers for what’s coming in August!
Thanks again for your support–especially for your emails and Facebook messages! You lift me up!
A Glance Back At July
SEALs of Summer 3: Military Romance Superbundle~Navy SEAL Style
This includes 11 Navy SEAL stories from top authors in the genre, and includes my story Baby, It’s You!
The term sex object brings to mind a curvaceous starlet on a casting couch or an iconic, bee-stung-lipped beauty being pursued by a powerful, capable man. In Sex Objects, Devlin turns that concept upside down by allowing the woman to objectify a handsome, sensual man, using the concepts of role reversal and power play, but from a female perspective, to create something evocative and fun for the feminine, romance-reader.
A record executive plays hardball with her latest star in “Hush.” In “Taste Test,” a food critic is seduced with a gastronomic feast by a master chef. “Dark Circus” enchants with a story about a circus owner and a young accountant exploring a D/s relationship. A celebutante and her bodyguard get “Slap Happy.” In Devlin’s own “Butled,” a famous writer succumbs to the tender manipulations of her butler. Lush settings and creative cliche-busting will delight readers eager to embrace the passionate and surprising couplings.
These women are masters of their own domain, in charge and proud…capable of using sex for pleasure’s sake…but ultimately succumbing to the pull of desire and love created by the “objects” of their desire…
After a month-long sleep filled with dreams of adark-skinned lover in a glass castle beneath the sand, Captain AndromedaO’Keefe awakens in her suspension chamber to discover her dangerous cargo hasescaped. Worse, naked and at his mercy, she learns her sexy, forbidden dreamsweren’t hers alone.
Khalim Padja of the Raptor Clan has a date witha prison cell. Using his dream-share gift, he invades the wary captain’s dreamsto seduce her. But time is running short to win her heart and his freedom.
Of course, there will be a new Stepbrothers Stepping Out story–but I don’t have a cover yet, because, uh yeah, I haven’t written it yet. I’m trying to narrow down the possible themes. Maybe you can help me… Which of these appeals to you most?
With His Construction Crew With His Wranglers With His Warriors With His Biker Club With His Starship Crew With His Ranger Team
In the meantime, Baby, It’s You, an Uncharted SEALs story, releases August 5th! Before We Kissdoesn’t release until September 20th, but I couldn’t resist sharing the cover with you! (And psst! It’s available for pre-order now!)
I woke up late today. I’m a little worn out. My dd, SIL, and I have done our civic duty to pay attention to the news and watch those conventions. With the 7-year-old’s bed in the middle of the living room while she’s recovering, we had to tape the conventions and watch them when we could, but we are finally done.
This election cycle is completely crazy. And I think my family is reflective of the nation at large when it comes to who’s voting for whom.
My 96-year-old grandma (who’s a lifelong Democrat) is glad she hasn’t registered to vote.
My parents (who’ve voted Republican ALWAYS) are struggling to remain staunchly supportive of their candidate. My poor dad gets so angry at T-word’s antics and words.
My two kids are split. My son has decided he’s staying home on Election Day, since his candidate, Bernie Sanders, didn’t get the nod from the Dems. My dd and SIL are voting for H-word. My daughter’s convinced the targeted hatred toward her candidate is the result of genetics, not intelligence. People don’t like her because she’s a strong woman.
I know who I’m voting for. My support hasn’t wavered even once. When Obama faced McCain, I wanted to vote McCain, because I didn’t think Obama was prepared. That is, I was for McCain until Palin became his running mate, and then, I couldn’t bear the thought of her being a bullet away from the Oval Office. So, you can guess who I support now. It’s been hard not to wave my flag on social media, but I know that there are people out there who are virulent to the point of being obnoxious over their support of their candidate, and I don’t want to invite any of that. I hope I haven’t done that by talking about what’s on my mind now.
Just know, this old Army vet worries about power being held by someone who doesn’t get what America’s about. Someone who doesn’t understand our history or fear our foes.
So, I don’t care if you say who you’re voting for. I’d like to know if you watched the conventions, if you’re doing your homework. I’ve been watching everything I can. I watched almost all the 11-hour Benghazi grilling. All of the House’s email grilling. As much of both candidates’ speeches as I can catch on the news. And I READ every article and interview I can find. How are you preparing for what might be the most important vote of our generation?
Now, because I’ve made you think of things that might make you uncomfortable, here’s an incentive to post your answer. If you comment, you’ll be entered to win a free download of this coming Friday’s release, Baby, It’s You! The winner will be announced tomorrow. And if you’ve already pre-ordered that story, I’m sure we can come up with something else you’d love to read. 🙂
Thank you, Delilah for having me on your blog. Love you and your books!
Hi everyone. I’m Lexi Post, the romance author who gets her inspiration from the classics, which may sound boring, but believe me, those books inspire some pretty hot thoughts in my head. For example, take my latest release, Eden Discovered. It’s the third in The Eden Series and it takes place on a planet of naked men. It’s not techy sci-fi, more a social sci-fi. On this planet, every woman must marry at least two men, every man has a special paranormal ability depending on the Kindred birthmark he is born with, and the cities on the planet are walled in so they can simply exile any criminals, or “lawbreakers” as they call them.
The classic that this particular book was inspired from was Emily Dickinson’s poem “The Goal.” Since Dickinson was a recluse, I decided that she wasn’t really hiding in her home, but had been chosen to come to Eden where she became their first High Poetess. She is credited with having saved their civilization, and so there is Dickinson Law which has to do with how the men treat their woman, mostly. Of course, there is also Criuson Law which is based on the aliens who took men from Earth during ancient times and brought them to populate Eden. Only one problem. No women are born on Eden, so to find their wife, the men must go to Earth and research their chosen one.
Let’s just say that if you read Cruise into Eden (#1), Unexpected Eden (#2) and Eden Discovered, this will all make perfect sense. But the great thing is, each book is a stand alone romance, and each happily ever after has more than one Edenist. Just sayin’ J
To celebrate the release of Eden Discovered, I’m giving away this hand decorated Venetian mask made in Italy. It is a cat mask in honor of Talia, the hero’s chameleon saber-tooth sized cat. Just enter the Rafflecopter for your chance to win. Good luck!
Eden Discovered
Animal lover Jaelene Upton doesn’t expect to lose sight of her sister when she follows her through a bizarre travel portal, but that’s exactly what happens when she’s distracted by a cute baby porcupine. Lost, she asks for directions, only to be nearly assaulted by one naked man before being saved by another. Her best guess is she’s landed among a native tribe in the middle of a jungle….but odd reflections and energy sources have her questioning even that assumption.
Theron misses his home in Loraleaf and the brothers of his heart, Konala and Rekah. His new home, a lonely cave, is his escape from seeing the woman he loves happily bonded to Loraleaf’s leaders. When he saves Jaelene from lawbreakers, he finds himself drawn to her intoxicating curiosity and despite his best efforts, he falls for her. But no matter what his heart wants, he can’t offer her anything but safety and a reunion with her sister. Unless…
If Theron can interest Konala in Jaelene as well, then he would only have two more obstacles to conquer, Rekah and Jaelene herself. But Rekah, hurt by Theron’s betrayal, wants nothing to do with Jaelene, and when she discovers Theron’s past love, she refuses to be his consolation price. As the battle with the lawbreakers grows near, Theron realizes this time, he may well lose more than his heart.
Jaelene looked at the pool again. It would feel good.
Theron stepped behind her and whispered in her ear. “What are you afraid of, Khityki?”
You. I like you too much. I depend on you too much and you aren’t interested. She wasn’t about to tell him her fears. “What does that word mean? You said it to me once before.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You are changing the subject. Why do you not want to disrobe and enjoy the warm waters of the bath?”
Oh, he meant getting in the water. That was easy. “You’ve seen me. It’s not like I’m Miss America or anything.”
Theron lifted one hand from her shoulder and pointed across the water. “You are a special person, Jaelene.”
On the other side of the pool floated a reflection of herself, but it was so beautiful she couldn’t believe it was her. She studied every feature and each was exactly the same on her. Her small naked breasts, her narrow hips, her big lower lip, yet a silver inner light showed through and her blue eyes sparkled like the sun hitting the blue waters of the sea.
Her eyes watered and her heart swelled. She looked up at Theron. “Is that how you see me?”
His dark eyes grew almost black. “No. It is how everyone sees you. This is you.”
Hurt she’d thought she buried exploded within her, the tiny pieces disappearing into thin air as she stared into Theron’s eyes.
She needed him in her life.
Turning toward him, she hooked her hand around his neck and lifted up on her toes to kiss him.
He lowered his head, his lips brushing hers in a soft kiss.
She relaxed her hold on him, hoping for more, but he straightened, his face unreadable.
“Will you bathe with me?” His voice had lowered to a husky base that sent tingles all over her body.
Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of erotic romance. She spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to Tolstoy’s War and Peace, she’s read, studied, and taught wonderful classics.
But Lexi’s first love is romance novels. In an effort to marry her two first loves, she started writing erotic romance inspired by the classics and found she loved it. Lexi believes there is no end to the romantic inspiration she can find in great literature. Her books are known as “erotic romance with a whole lot of story.”
Lexi is living her own happily ever after with her husband and her cat in Florida. She makes her own ice cream every weekend, loves bright colors, and you will never see her without a hat.
Hi! Before I get started, I want to thank Delilah for being so generous with her blog space. I always have a good time when I come to visit here, and I appreciate that Delilah lets me.
So it’s my birthday month, and more specifically, my birthday week. I remember as a kid how much I looked forward to my birthday–it was about halfway through the year from the other big kid present holiday, Christmas. Each one seemed so far away from the other when I was a kid. Do you remember, too? I always thought it would be worse, though, to have my birthday too close to Christmas and then have to wait even longer for gifts. Funnier, though, when I think about it as an adult, is that gifts when I was a kid were a lot of useful things and a few fun things, plus the dinner of our choice and whatever kind of cake we wanted (my mom was a really great baker). I had a lot of siblings, so huge wish lists weren’t the norm in our house. And we were okay with that.
Even when I got older, birthdays were more about the cake than the gifts. I’m still a huge fan of the birthday cake, actually. Something decadent and delicious, with icing. There has to be icing, or there’s no point in the cake, unless it’s cheesecake, and then it still needs something–fruit sauce, or chocolate, or something.
I haven’t written a character yet whose birthday happens during the course of their book, until now. I’m working on a shifter story, and the heroine has a birthday and Christmas during their story, and neither of those has ever been a big deal in her life up until this point. Seeing things through her eyes that I’ve taken for granted is kind of eye-opening, and a little sad for her. The hero does some very romantic things for her, too, which makes the whole thing even better.
But there is still something to be said for a good birthday gift from someone special, whether it sparkles, or maybe it’s just a good dinner at your favorite restaurant. So I wondered what some of your favorite romantic birthday gifts have been. From your spouse, or maybe a previous significant other, I want to know. Everybody who shares in the comments below by noon EST on Sunday, July 31, 2016 will be entered into a giveaway drawing (via RandomResult.com)–I have a box full of books, including a signed copy of Hunting Medusa. I can’t wait to hear these!
Hunting Medusa
Hunting Medusa
The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1
Ever since the original Medusa ticked off Athena, her cursed daughters have been paying for that mistake. To this day, successive Medusas play cat and mouse with the Harvesters.
When Kallan Tassos tracks down the current Medusa, he expects to find a monster. Instead he finds a wary, beautiful woman, shielded by a complicated web of spells that foils his plans for a quick kill and retrieval of her protective amulet.
Andrea Rosakis expects the handsome Harvester to go for the kill. Instead, his attempt to take the amulet imprinted on her skin without harming her takes her completely by surprise. And ends with the two of them in a magical bind—together.
Though their attraction is combustible, her impending PMS (Pre Magical-Curse Syndrome) puts a real damper on any chance of a relationship. But Kallan isn’t the only Harvester tracking Andi, and they must cooperate to stay one step ahead of a ruthless killer before they can have any future, together or apart.
Elizabeth Andrews has been a book lover since she was old enough to read. She read her copies of Little Women and the Little House series so many times, the books fell apart. As an adult, her book habit continues. She has a room overflowing with her collection, and still more spreading into other rooms. Almost as long as she’s been reading great stories, she’s been attempting to write her own. Thanks to a fifth grade teacher who started the class on creative writing, Elizabeth went from writing creative sentences to short stories and eventually full-length novels. Her father saved her poor, callused fingers from permanent damage when he brought home a used typewriter for her.
Elizabeth found her mother’s stash of romance novels as a teenager, and–though she loves horror–romance became her very favorite genre, making writing romances a natural progression. There are more than just a few manuscripts, however, tucked away in a filing cabinet that will never see the light of day.
Along with her enormous book stash, Elizabeth lives with her husband of more than twenty years and two young adult sons, though no one else in the house reads nearly as much as she does. When she’s not at work or buried in books or writing, there is a garden outside full of herbs, flowers and vegetables that requires occasional attention.
First, thanks to everyone who purchased Raptor’s Prey and With His SEAL Team! Raptor is #9 on the Science Fiction Erotica list! And SEAL Team is right here:
Thank you, thank you, thank you! 🙂
I am super-envious of everyone who was able to attend Comicon! The news coming out of there of new movies to watch for has been killing me. On Facebook, I shared clips from the new Justice League and Wonder Woman movies coming in 2017. Since they are so much on my mind, I thought I’d help stoke your obsession too! So, answer me this…
Which member of the Justice League would you most want to see charging up the sidewalk when you're getting mugged? You may choose 2.
Wonder Woman (42%, 8 Votes)
Superman (32%, 6 Votes)
The Flash (11%, 2 Votes)
Aquaman (11%, 2 Votes)
Batman (5%, 1 Votes)
Cyborg (0%, 0 Votes)
Total Voters: 11
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And of course, you’re welcome to explain your choices in the comments!
At last!!! I put out the first four books of the Delos series, and later, wrote sequels to each one of them. The first of those sequels, Secret Dream, is following Cav and Lia from Nowhere to Hide, Book 1. I’ll be rolling out three more, one a month! I’m excited to hear from you as to whether you like having a sequel after the “big” book. So do let me know! Below is an excerpt from SECRET DREAM. Enjoy!
Secret Dream
Sequel novella to Nowhere to Hide, Book 1, Delos series
Publishing date: 7.25.16
Ebook, paperback and audio www.lindsaymckenna.com
Ex-Navy SEAL Cav Jordan faces danger daily in his job as a security expert. He even faced down a gang of South American drug dealers to protect his fiancée, Lia Cassidy. So why is he terrified of meeting her parents? Having lived through his own horrible childhood Cav can’t understand the situation is he is walking into. Lia just wants him to meet her parents. Why does this feel like the fight of his life?Secret Dream by Lindsay McKenna
“Steve Cassidy. Welcome, Mr. Jordan. We owe you a lot.” He gripped Cav’s hand, and choked out, “You saved Lia’s life. Thank you…”
For a moment, Cav was stunned by the sudden kindness emanating from the farmer’s expression who was thin, wiry, sunburned and physically sinewy from the daily work he did. Gripping the farmer’s calloused roughened hand, he said, “Nice to meet you, sir. And I was just doing my job. Call me Cav?”
“Call me Steve.” He clapped him heartily on the back, still clasping his other hand. “And you’re a hero to us, son. Nothing less.” Steve released him, keeping his hand on Cav’s broad shoulder, watching Lia clinging to he mother, both of them in a tight, loving embrace with one another.
Embarrassed by such a show of emotions, Cav murmured, “Thank you, sir.”
Steve gave him an assessing look. “Just Steve will do.”
“Yes, sir….I mean, okay,” Cav stumbled. It was very different meeting people who were strangers, but this was Lia’s parents and he didn’t want to fuck this up for her. Awkwardly, he stood there, watching tears roll down Susan’s face. He wasn’t sure that Lia wasn’t crying too, such was the tight bond they shared. Obliquely, his mind leaped backward. Cav remembered the times his mother had cried. But they were tears of pain. Tears mingled with blood from her nose, a split lip or both after his father got done beating her up. How many times had Cav cried alone in his room wishing she would run away with him from his monster father?
Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s us guys go find your luggage, huh?” and he smiled a little.
Good idea! “Yes, sir—“
Steve laughed and patted him warmly on the back. “You’re staying a week with us, Cav. I’ll work that military side out of you by then. Come on, let’s hunt up that luggage you and our Lia, eh?”
There was a male gruffness mingled with warmth to Steve that made Cav want to open up to the man. He had a deeply weathered face, his blue eyes the same color as Lia’s. The woman he loved had her mother’s same color of hair, her father’s sparkling, mischievous looking eyes and her smile. There was benevolence to Steve Cassidy, and Cav automatically found himself wanting to be close to this man who exuded a male gentleness he rarely found in any man. “Thanks for coming to pick us up,” Cav said, noting that the baggage from their flight would be spit out by Carousel Two.
“We’ve been looking forward to seeing you two,” Steve said, standing with his hands on his hips, watching the luggage starting to be dropped off the conveyor belt. “Did you have a good flight?”
“Yes. It was quiet. That’s all I ask.”
“We don’t travel much,” he said. “With a farm, you can’t walk away from it, so I’m glad you came for a visit.”
Cav felt Steve’s genuine sincerity. He hooked a look over his shoulder, seeing Lia and her mother talking animatedly with one another as they walked toward them. Susan had given Lia her smile and her beauty, no question. He liked that the mother had hooked her arm around Lia’s waist and they walked closely, their affection for everyone to see. He knew Lia’s affection himself and already, he could see how happy she was at being home with her parents once more. They breathed even more life into her, if that was possible. Compared to the ghost of a person she was in Costa Rica months earlier, Cav was stunned at Lia’s natural radiance. She was sunshine to his darkened soul who craved her.
“Uh oh,” Steve murmured, grinning as he turned. “I’m about to get attacked.”
For a moment, the word put Cav on instant guard. But as he turned, he saw Steve opening his arms as Lia flew into them, her arms wide open, joy radiant on her face as she clung to her father. A lump formed in his throat as he watched Lia being swallowed up by the big man who kissed her hair, kissed that cheek that had that deep scar on it, his eyes only for his beaming daughter in his arms. His gaze flicked to Susan, who stood a few feet away, teary eyed, smiling, her lower lip trembling as she watched Lia with her doting father. It hurt to swallow and Cav turned away, remembering too much of the twisted and distorted family he’d somehow managed to survive. He’d never known a moment of affection from his father. Only his fist. His hatred. His anger always aimed at him.
Hi everyone. I’m Lexi Post, the romance author who gets her inspiration from the classics, which may sound boring, but believe me, those books inspire some pretty hot thoughts in my head. For example, take my latest release, Eden Discovered. It’s the third in The Eden Series and it takes place on a planet of naked men. It’s not techy sci-fi, more a social sci-fi. On this planet, every woman must marry at least two men, every man has a special paranormal ability depending on the Kindred birthmark he is born with, and the cities on the planet are walled in so they can simply exile any criminals, or “lawbreakers” as they call them.![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000030_00038]](https://i0.wp.com/www.delilahdevlin.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/lpUnexpected_Eden_ebook_600X900.jpg?resize=200%2C300&ssl=1)
The classic that this particular book was inspired from was Emily Dickinson’s poem “The Goal.” Since Dickinson was a recluse, I decided that she wasn’t really hiding in her home, but had been chosen to come to Eden where she became their first High Poetess. She is credited with having saved their civilization, and so there is Dickinson Law which has to do with how the men treat their woman, mostly. Of course, there is also Criuson Law which is based on the aliens who took men from Earth during ancient times and brought them to populate Eden. Only one problem. No women are born on Eden, so to find their wife, the men must go to Earth and research their chosen one.![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000030_00038]](https://i0.wp.com/www.delilahdevlin.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/lpEden_Discovered_ebook_Kindle.jpg?resize=394%2C600&ssl=1)
Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of erotic romance. She spent years in higher education taking and teaching courses about the classical literature she loved. From Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “The Masque of the Red Death” to Tolstoy’s War and Peace, she’s read, studied, and taught wonderful classics.
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