Hi, Delilah and everybody! It’s really wonderful to be here today — and a bit daunting, as well. You see, ten years ago I started publishing erotic romance. I’d been writing forever (at least, I think “since second grade” when you’re now fifty-one counts as forever), but 2006 was my first attempt at making writing any kind of a career. And to give myself credit, it was a pretty good attempt. Within three years I’d published over two dozen novellas, many of them pretty well-received, some of them award-winners. A few were even best-sellers on Amazon and ARe.

And then everything (or rather me, precisely) went crash.

I’d originally thought about titling this When the Words Stop, except that’s not really what happened. What happened was that the gulf between the words in my brain and my ability to get them down on paper became, for a long time, unbridgeable. A lot of things happened during that time: I got divorced. Filed bankruptcy. Had what I can only classify now, in retrospect, as a nervous breakdown. But that’s not really what I want to talk about.

The truth is, we all go through horrible things in our lives. Things that can really break us; sometimes permanently, sometimes in ways we don’t even recognize until years or even decades later. And sometimes, something happens in our present lives that hits right against those underlying fractures, and what we’d thought were solid, intentionally-chosen lives shatter like yard-sale figurines. And sometimes, when that happens, we realize those lives were actually pretty chipped and, well, unappealing all along.

Which is actually, if you think about it, a remarkable gift. I mean, how many times do we have the chance to start at square one? To really stop and reassess who we are, what’s important to us, what we want to do? To be?

Not that, for the first few years at least, I could appreciate that 🙂 Truth is, there was very little in my life that wasn’t a complete wreck. Finances? Ye gods. It’d be fair to say that for quite a while there, I basically didn’t have any. Living situation? Ditto, honestly. I couldn’t focus on anything. I couldn’t even, for the better part of a year, simply manage to stay in one place – three days, four days anywhere, and I started feeling like I was crawling out of my skin. And I had no idea what had happened to me. It was really pretty terrifying.

But what I eventually discovered, in and amidst the wreckage, was a much clearer sense of what was truly important to me, what I really wanted in my life. My friends. My son. A sense of self-respect (unlike friends and son, this was something I was chagrined to discover I’d only thought I had – when push came to shove, or rather life encountered “crash”, I came hard up against the realization that it was mostly illusory).

And yes, the writing.

There have been few experiences in my life as exhilarating as watching a story unfold in ways I didn’t expect, watching it surprise me, watching it take on a life of its own. When I hit those points — when a story has a resonance, a reality, all of its own — honestly, I feel like I’ve done something good. Something important. Brought something into the world that really wanted to be there. Not every story I’ve written has hit that mark for me. But a lot of them have. And I’m beginning to have faith that a lot of them will again.

It’s been a seriously slow slog these past five years, putting a life back together from square one. But the big upside is that, in the process of doing so — heck, simply in order to be able to do so — I had to take a hard, uncompromising, bare-bones look at a lot of beliefs (and behaviors) I’d been carrying around for decades, without even being aware of them.

And then I had to change them. One by one.

There are two blogs that really helped me recognize, challenge, and reshape my thinking, and I’d like to share them with you. The first is called Baggage Reclaim (link: https://www.baggagereclaim.co.uk/), and while it bills itself as — and definitely is — a “dating & relationship blog”, at heart what most of the problems and issues blog owner Natalie Lue discusses really revolve around is your relationship with yourself. Around the need to be honest with yourself, and with the people in your life.

The second is Zen Habits, written by Leo Babauta. (link: https://zenhabits.net/) In far more prosaic fashion, he looks at — what a shock! — habits. Of both the physical and mental varieties. With a cheery sort of fearlessness that occasionally made me want to smack him upside the head, but which, in my less-exasperated moments, I also found really encouraging.

If there’s any one thing I’ve taken away from the past five years, it’s a deep-seated awareness that our lives are ours. Ours to shape any way we want. Even when we can’t change the world around us, we can shape our own responses to it. We can look at our lives afresh, as often as we need or want to, and choose what we want to put in them. What we want to make important. As hard or scary or daunting as it can sometimes be, we can build our worlds.

I’d like to leave you with an image, one that has both challenged and comforted me many times over the past few years, and renewed my courage when it was flagging. It might be anti-romantic in some ways, but…

Delilah, thank you so much for having me here today. And thank you to everyone who happens to stop by!

— Sierra
sierradafoe.com

I had the pleasure of being a part of Cat Johnson’s HOT SEALS Kindle World with my story, SEAL’S ULTIMATE CHALLENGE. This story parallels SEAL’S HONOR book #1 in my TAKE NO PRISONERS series. This book shows the same timeframe from Reaper’s perspective.

Amazon

I’m giving away a PINK KINDLE FIRE and other prizes

CLICK HERE FOR ELLE’S PRIZE GIVEAWAY

About the Book

Injured on a mission gone wrong, Cory “Reaper” Nipton’s Navy SEAL career is over. With only one arm, he can’t join his fellow teammates, or even his fiancée, the Special Ops helicopter pilot who flew him in and out of harm’s way. Relegated to life as a civilian, and angry at his lack of choices, Reaper goes through rehab with a petite, soft-spoken physical therapist with two iron fists. He’s forced to face an uncertain future and learn how to live without the use of his right arm.

Ex-cop, Leigha Fields, lost her career due to a gunshot wound that destroyed her knee. Retrained and refitted with different skills, she has reimagined her world, dedicating her life to helping wounded warriors find their way. Until someone from her past seeks revenge. Leigha and Reaper join forces to untangle the mystery and free her from the web of crosshairs aimed squarely at her. In their struggle to find and neutralize the culprit, they realize their own capabilities and how they will fit in their future together.

Excerpt #1

Reaper waited, pushing his earlier argument with Tuck out of his mind. No matter how mad he got at Tuck, or Tuck got with him, they would take a bullet for each other. They were part of a team.

A moment later, Tuck ran back to where Reaper was and motioned him to take cover. Tuck checked his watch.

Reaper didn’t. His job was to provide cover while Tuck synchronized their efforts with Team Bravo’s. They all had to be in their exact places before the party began.

Out of the corner of his eye, Reaper could see Tuck cover his ears, while he pressed the hand-held detonator.

The explosion shook the ground beneath Reaper’s feet. Another, a moment later, sounded from the backside of the compound.

Tuck rounded the corner first, Reaper followed. Big Bird and Gator brought up the rear. Ahead, popping sound of gunfire kicked up dust around their feet. Tuck ducked and rolled into the shadows.

Reaper trained his NVGs at the roof, searching for the sniper.

Tuck, positioned a few feet ahead, had a clearer shot and took him out.

Leaving Fish on the outside of the structure to cover their rear, Tuck, Reaper, Big Bird, and Gator entered through the hole created by the explosives, and spread out.

Team Alpha as to enter through the rear of the structure. Bravo would come through the front door. If they played their cards right, the distraction at the front would allow Team Alpha secure their target. The trick was to use only enough explosives to penetrate the wall without killing those inside. Intel wanted the man alive for interrogation, which made the SEAL team’s job a lot harder.

Tuck affixed C4 to the back wall of the residence, stepped back with the others, and detonated the charge.

With dust still swirling around the hole, Reaper entered first, diving through the crumbled wall. He rolled to a crouch, weapon ready, his finger on the trigger. They’d practiced this maneuver several times stateside at Little Creek, anticipating resistance from within. Most members of the Taliban attended meetings with their leaders, while armed.

In the fog of dust, the first thing that struck Reaper was the room was empty. No guns, no snipers, no Taliban—just rags and empty crates. Had they gotten bad intelligence? Had Tuck counted wrong?

Someone had spray painted lettering on the wall in Pashtu. Reaper didn’t have time to stop and translate. He had a job to do. Clear the building, find the Taliban and secure their target. He moved toward the next room. From ahead, he could hear Team Bravo, coming in from the other side.

Behind him, he heard Tuck curse, then yell, “Reaper, don’t go—”

Something touched his shin. His mind made the connection and he formed a curse in his mouth, and then the entire room erupted. He was flung through the air. Stunned, his ears ringing, he reached for his weapon, but couldn’t find it. Reaper fought to remain conscious. He had to help his team. Someone could have been hurt. From a long way off, he heard the sound of Tuck’s voice calling.

Excerpt #2 (this is a little teaser excerpt you might like)

“I have to be able to do everything myself, better than a man with two hands.”

She laid back and smiled, her body humming with the afterglow of her orgasm. “So far, I’d give you an A+. But don’t make me wait too long.”

About the Author

NYT and USA Today Bestselling Author ELLE JAMES also writing as MYLA JACKSON is an award-winning author of stories including cowboys, intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edges of their seats. With over seventy stories in a variety of sub-genres and lengths she is published with Harlequin, Samhain, Elloras’ Cave, Kensington, Cleis Press, and Avon. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories.

Elle’s Links: Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads | Newsletter | Amazon Author Page

Myla Jackson’s links: Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Newsletter

When I moved to Chicago, I never expected to write a shifter series set here. But now, it’s hard to imagine the place without them. Edgewater is tiger territory. Lakeview has wolves. The jaguars are in several predominantly Mexican-American neighborhoods. The bears are in former Russian mob territory in Rogers Park. There isn’t any Russian mob territory in Rogers Park? Sure there is. We put it there.

That’s the fun part of writing – we get to create worlds within worlds, sometimes overlaid on the real one we all live in. But this isn’t that much different than reality, after all: the city of Chicago is made up of lots of neighborhoods: Little Italy, Chinatown, Greektown, the west side, Hyde Park, Rogers Park – the list could fill an entire page. And the distinctions aren’t just ethnic, either – Boystown is famous, and Andersonville is filled with the girls. Then there’s Restaurant Row, famous for fooderies; the near west side and its artists’ lofts, and the technology corridor along Elston and incorporating Goose Island. There are even neighborhood maps of Chicago, in case it’s confusing.

When Rachel and I wrote Cat’s Cradle, we knew we’d be telling a story of two cities: the one that we all know and love, and the one that she and I created that sits on top of reality. We studied the neighborhoods, so we’d know where the ocelots have their home base, adjacent to the jaguars’ territory but still separate. We even have a map of these areas so we don’t confuse ourselves.

So, here’s a question for you, Dear Reader:

If you were to put an extra layer of reality on your home town,
what would you put there? Shifters? Cowboys? The fae?

Cat’s Cradle

When you’re an ex-Marine tiger shifter, love comes with a high cost – is it too much to pay?

Mitchell Brayden is an ex-Marine tiger shifter looking for love in all the wrong places. When he decides to rescue a young ocelot shifter from a rich, spoiled playboy, he embroils himself in a conflict that goes back generations.

Guadalupe Salazar grew up as a pampered pet of a benevolent patron. After his patron’s untimely death, he stays on with the patron’s son – a self-centered, weak man who got ensnared by the drugs and fast living in the States. One night, it goes too far and Lupe is beaten nearly to death. He is taken to a secret shifter clinic where he meets an unlikely knight in tarnished armor.

Together, Mitch and Lupe confront the playboy and his friends – but will their actions draw the rest of the jaguar familias, not to mention the ocelot clans, into a battle over Lupe’s future? Will the delicate balance of power destroy everything that Mitch’s small band of tiger shifters has built in Chicago?

Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/Cats-Cradle-Chicagoland-Shifters-Book-ebook/dp/B011UT6EN6

As a writer sometimes I get so caught up in the business side of writing. Edits, covers, promotion, deadlines, and book signings can all take their toll. And sometimes causes me to lose my inspiration to write.

I just recently got back from a vacation in Charleston, South Carolina and I did something I have never done. I gave myself permission to take the week off from writing and to actually be in the moment and enjoy myself. There were long days at the beach, tours to gorgeous plantation homes and slow walks around the charming city.  I made a conscious effort to enjoy myself and be in the moment.

Once I got back home I was refreshed and inspired and excited to get back to writing.

Every day since then, I take mini vacations. I’ll take a walk around the neighborhood, or go to a coffee shop and enjoy a cup of Chia Latte, or go sit by my little pond in the back yard with a glass of wine.

Writing is the best job in the world and I’m grateful I get to do what I love every single day. But I know in order to write my best I have to be my best.

So the next time you’re feeling stressed give yourself permission to take a thirty minute break and just breathe. You’ll be amazed at how much it will inspire you.

Hell on Wheels…
Werewolf Guardian, Damon Trahan lives by a Code: Protect the Pack with his life. Damon has experienced death and betrayal, now all he wants is the freedom of his Harley and the loyalty of the men he rides with, the only family he has left. Those are the things he knows and believes in. Love and the hurt that comes with it has no place in his world…Until he receives new orders: Rescue female werewolf, Ava Renfroe from a Pack of rogue wolves.

Hell on Heels…
Bartender Ava Renfroe is tired of Alpha males running her life. Being raised as the daughter of a Military General made her want independence more than air—and she has it! Until she’s kidnapped. Damon Trahan, her alpha male rescuer and bossy pain-in-the-ass, is exactly the kind of man she doesn’t want, but try telling that to her libido. His brooding good looks are panty-dropping hot. Too bad he’s bat-shit crazy and thinks he’s a werewolf. Worse, he claims she’s a werewolf too. But when Damon shifts in front of her, she begins to doubt everything she’s known to be true.

Hell to pay…
On the run from the rogues, Ava and Damon can’t ignore the red hot passion between them. But Damon knows it can’t last. Will he sacrifice everything he’s ever known to have the one thing he’s never meant to have? Or will the war between the Packs destroy them before love is given a chance?

About the Author

Jodi is the author of the RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES series and writes paranormal romance as well as contemporary romance. Born and raised in Mississippi, her deep Southern roots and love of the paranormal led her to write Southern Paranormal novels. When she is not conversing with characters in her head, she can be found at her home in Northeast Arkansas with her handsome husband, brilliant son, a temperamental swan, and yellow lab that is fond of retrieving turtles when duck season is over.

Find her on Facebook, Jodi Vaughn, author.
Follow her on Twitter @JodiVaughn1
Sign up for her newsletter and check out her website https://jodivaughn.com
Find her on Instagram at VaughnJodi

Happy July 31^st! I’d like to start by thanking Delilah for allowing me to guest today. She and the entire writing community have been extremely warm and welcoming to this newbie. I am in awe of their generosity and kindness!

Three Confessions of a Newbie

• I am smart enough to know that I am ignorant. It’s true; no matter how much you know, there is always more to learn, a lot more. Being a writer can be a lesson in humility or an educational adventure, depending upon how you look at it. Readers are smart and savvy so authors have to know their stuff. I can’t mistake Athena for the Goddess of the Hunt, call a famous Samurai a ninja or mix up Princess Joanna of Castile for her sister, Mary, Queen of Hungry. With writing, there is no fake it ‘till you make it so I find myself researching subjects far and wide from ancient mythology, the Bible, military hierarchy, state laws, Asian history, the Vatican and everything in between. I won’t even get into all I don’t know about the publishing industry, but I’m learning more every day.
• I’m terrified! I haven’t been writing as long as a lot of other authors my age. I’ve had stories bubbling and brewing in my head all my life, but I never wrote any of them down until sometime in 2013. At first, I was just amusing myself, but I developed a love for writing. Suddenly I dreamed of becoming a professional author. When my first book, Do Geek Girl’s Dream of Electric Sweeties? was published June 5, 2015, I was thrilled, but now I’m scared of turning my dream into a nightmare. Sometimes fear and self-doubt weigh heavily on me, but I think maybe those negative feelings are important to the process. What else could motivate me to re-read and edit a manuscript 100+ times just to make sure it was everything I wanted it to be? Besides, over the years many amazing authors and artists have confessed to the same thing so at least I’m in good company.
• My process owns me, not the other way around. Those stories rolling around in my brain make me run for my laptop, and the chapters pour forth, but when it’s over, it’s over. My muse might give me everything but chapter six out of sixteen, but I won’t get chapter six until she is ready to give it up. Meanwhile, that muse has started cooking a few more dishes. I just have to move on and write what she tells me until ding, ding, ding—Oh, so that’s how chapter six is supposed to read! Currently, I have two stories submitted to publishers, four partials at varying degrees of completion and a couple of rough outlines I’m not sure when I will get around to writing. Which story gets finished next is up to that persnickety muse, but either way, I still love the process.

 Do Geek Girl’s Dream of Electric Sweeties?

Graphic novel artist and author Mary Allison is a lot like the famous candy that melts in your mouth—a sexy, sassy outer shell hides her sweet and creamy, geek girl center. Holden, her strict, uptight editor, would personify nails across a chalkboard if he weren’t so good looking. She finds herself attracted to him but is certain they could never mesh romantically.

Unbeknownst to Mary Allison, Holden has been enthralled by her from the start, even going so far as to stall his career to continue working with her. On the verge of becoming lovers, they’re impeded by interruptions and misunderstandings. The geek girl and the stuffy editor must learn to communicate and connect before fear and confusion keep them apart forever.

Reader Advisory: This story has graphic sexual language and scenes—no closed bedroom doors (or other rooms) here!

Short Excerpt: Mary Allison decided to give Holden a little push and see if he was really interested in her or if he actually came all the way over to her place just to watch TV. Without a word, she leaned into him, resting her body against his side and tucking herself underneath his strong, muscular arm. Now the ball was in his court and Mary Allison hoped he would take it and run.

Holden didn’t miss a beat, quickly moving his arm to hold her securely in place. He even turned his head and nuzzled into her hair. “Well what do you know?” he said cryptically before adding, “It was you all along. Every damn time I came here that scent drew me in, and it was you. You smell delicious.”

Available for purchase at the following:

https://www.amazon.com/Geek-Girls-Dream-Electric-Sweeties-ebook/dp/B00YQ4S5C6

https://www.ellorascave.com/product/do-geek-girls-dream-of-electric-sweeties/

Author Bio: Sierra Brave is a southern girl with a love of fantasy fiction and well-written yarns spun from everyday situations. She thoroughly believes the characters should carry the story. If the hero, heroine and supporting characters are interesting, it doesn’t really matter where the action takes place.

Her love for erotic literature started when, as a senior in high school, she managed to snag a copy of the old classic, Fanny Hill. Sierra still remembers how deliciously naughty she felt carrying her copy in her book bag and hopes all her readers will feel just as daring and liberated while reading her books.

Ms. Brave lives in the deep, down, dirty south with her husband, three children, two little black dogs and one feisty orange cat.

Connect with Sierra on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sierra-Brave/1422713414692067

And Twitter @BraveSierra

Enjoy the excerpt below! I’m so excited! Something to read while I wait for Outlander to return in the fall! Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter contest at the bottom of the page! ~DD

* * * * *

Laird of her Heart: Book One in the Dundragon Trilogy by Sabrina York

When Maggie Spencer is mysteriously transported to the Scotland of her ancestors, she is stunned to come face to face with him. Dominic Dundragon, the man she’s been half in love with her whole life. A man who’s been dead for 700 years.

They both have enemies aplenty. Will she have a chance to win his love, or will this adventure end in disaster?

Read an excerpt

Maggie yelped as, without warning, the burly warrior named Declan whipped her up into his arms and tossed her over his shoulder. To her horror, she lost the hold on her locket.

“Wait,” she cried. She wriggled to get free, but his grip was too hard. When she pummeled his back with her fists as he strode from the circle of stones, he chuckled. The beast. But to be fair, he was so large, it would have felt like a kitten batting him. “Put me down.”

“I willna,” he said. “The Mackintosh will decide how you die.”

All right. That shut her up. For a minute. “Die? Why do I need to die?” What the hell had she done to him?

The man following, an enormous blond with a scar tracking his cheek bent down to peer at her. “The Mackintosh’s doona tolerate spies.”

“I’m not a spy.” Seriously. She wriggled more and Declan smacked her ass.

Smacked her ass.

She’d kill him when she got free. Just kill him.

“Yer wearing the Cameron colors,” the blond said. “And the Mackintosh’s doona—”

“Right. I know. The Mackintosh’s doona tolerate spies.” Her head was starting to spin from being upside down and jounced around with each step. Her temper was on a short leash. “But honestly, if I were a spy, would I wear the Cameron colors? It seems a little counterproductive in my opinion. I mean, if I’m spying and all. I might as wear a sign that says, oh, I dunno, honk if you love spies.”

His brow rumpled but he didn’t respond. At least, not to her. “She speaks strangely,” he complained to Declan.

Her captor snorted a laugh. “She dresses strangely too.”

“Aye. She does at that. I’ve heard the Cameron lasses are a wild lot, but I had no idea—”

“I’m. Not. A. Cameron.” She reached out and smacked the blond, but only because he came close enough. He reared back and gaped at her—as though he’d never been smacked before—and then he quickly moved out of range.

It hardly mattered, because, apparently, they had reached their destination, a camp on the edge of the woods. The sounds of nickering horses and clanks of pots gave her her first clue—she was facing the other way, after all.

Her second clue was that Declan dropped her on the ground. She landed with an oof. She glared at him. He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Go get my brother, Ewan,” he barked, and the blond trotted off to one of the larger tents.

When she stood and brushed off her jeans, Declan bristled and she shot him a sardonic glare. Did he think she was stupid enough to run away? For one thing, these enormous men had her surrounded. For another, she never ran. Not if she could help it.

Instead, she made a quick survey of her surroundings. The camp was little more than a huddle of tents with the forest on one side and a sweeping plain on the other. A small herd of horses were hobbled to one side and a deer roasted over a pit fire. An entire deer. Before she could silence the thought—she often had that problem—she said, “You killed Bambi.”

Declan’s brow rumpled. “I dinna kill anyone.” And then he asked, “Who is Bambi?”

“Never mind.” She crossed her arms and turned away pretending to ignore them. But she wasn’t. She was aware they were all staring at her like she was a curiosity in a zoo, but she was taking in tiny details as well. Like the fact that their clothes were all handmade and simple. Their hair appeared to have been cut with a chainsaw and their beards were scraggly and long. Their weapons were what made her mind really start to spin though.

One held a crossbow that dated from the thirteenth century. Another had a Mackintosh dirk that resembled one she’d seen in a museum once. Declan had a simple calfskin sporran tied to his belt.

Odd. Could she have wandered into some renaissance faire? But no. It had been evening when she stepped into the woods and now it was daytime. Early afternoon. And the acres of woods around the house belonged to the family. It couldn’t be—

“So.” She flinched as a deep, melodious voice wafted to her on a hint of humor. Shivers danced through her, along with a prickling sense of premonition. “You’ve captured a Cameron spy?”

She turned slowly and froze as her gaze landed on him. On that so-familiar face. Broad, handsome, savage. Much more captivating than the sketch had been. Much more captivating by far.

She must be hallucinating. She had to be.

He was the hero of her dreams come to life.

Dominic Dundragon, Laird of the Mackintosh clan.

Large, looming and in the flesh.

Her head went woozy. Her vision blurred. And then, for the first time in her life, she fainted.

GET IT NOW!

https://www.amazon.com/Laird-Heart-Dundragon-Travel-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B012EP0NT6/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1437759426&sr=1-1&keywords=laird+of+her+heart

ABOUT SABRINA YORK

Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests.

For more information, or to connect with Sabrina, visit SabrinaYork.Com

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If you love hot highlanders, be sure to read Sabrina York’s Untamed Highlanders from St. Martin’s Press!

 Hannah and the Highlander

Susana and the Scot

Lana and the Laird—Coming in 2016

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Just woke up and it’s hard to be creative when all I want to do is crawl back under the covers. I was having this wonderful dream. A much younger William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy were at a convention, and I was one of the lucky fans selected to have dinner with them. I brought my camera with me to get photographic proof James T. Kirk was at my table, but every time I clicked a shot the picture was overexposed. What a nightmare! 🙂

So, that got me thinking. Frustrated fantasies have to be pretty common in Dream World. So do dreams about famous celebrities.

Can you remember one of yours?