News about Saturday’s contest is at the bottom of this posting!

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Woke up this morning to find this in my inbox! Whee! Still seems odd that Montlake puts the stories in this category, but hey, the books are suspenseful and do contain a mystery…

As with a lot of my bigger stories, publishers don’t quite know where to “shelve” them, which is why some of them are never found by readers. Sad, sad. We’ll have to see what happens with Crescent Moon too. Maybe I should write a more predictable full-length novel…?

What have I been up to lately? Too many things. If you followed me around for a day, you’d be shaking your head. I’m behind on most everything, and yet still taking on new projects. I think I must have an addictive personality. Addicted to stories or work. Not sure which. I do know I have a very hard time saying no.

The weather’s finally cooperating, and the pool is warm enough to enjoy—although it is a little cloudy and green. I’ve dumped chemicals and run the pump. Don’t know what it’s going to take to make it look less like a swamp, but that hasn’t stopped me from jumping in! When I find a snake or a gator in there too, maybe then I’ll get serious about curing the algae problem.

So y’all wanted to know who won those pretty “Crescent Moon” Egyptian earrings, right?  The random number generator chose commenter #4—me! So, I think I’ll let it ride for a week. Never question chance! For any comment that’s left for the next week on this blog, any posting, you’ll get another entry in the drawing!

June’s fast approaching. I have four books due out! Craziness shall ensue. Since I haven’t had anything release in a couple of months, you should be about ready for something new. I just hate giving you so many choices because they are all my babies and deserving of attention.

More later. I have to get my website updated so that you can see what’s coming next!

Thanks for having me, Delilah. Hi everyone. *waving*  Sharing research today.

Bounty hunting originated in a medieval society where no professional police existed. To right a wrong, punish a thief, or execute a murderer, one had to first catch the culprit. Kings and aristocrats didn’t hunt the wrong-doer—they offered a reward and a “no questions asked policy” that exonerated the hunter from any crime he committed during his hunt. (Source)

In the United States, these hunt-for-profit entrepreneurs have been a part of the American justice landscape since the 18^th century.  During the 19th and early 20th centuries, a handful of daring private citizens made a living tracking down wanted desperadoes.  *ahem*

So far I’ve used this info in three books— Five Card Stud, Wolf’s Tender, and Trouble in Disguise —all published by Ellora’s Cave Publishing and all about the McCallisters— a family of bounty hunters.

Trouble In Disguise, releasing June 5^th,  is a double measure of bounty hunters. Deacon McCallister’s rival, Beau Beauregard, a woman of many disguises, sneaks up on Deacon and captures his heart.  🙂

An Eclipse Heat Novel

Since both his partners have married and retired from the hunt, Deacon McCallister is alone when he visits the Pleasure Dome, an infamous brothel in Fort Worth’s Hell’s Half Acre. He’s tracking a counterfeiter but what he finds is TROUBLE—dressed in a man’s ruffled shirt and nothing more.

Bounty hunter Miracle Beauregard pretends to be male, calls herself Beau and for years has fooled the general public concerning her gender. But underneath Miri’s disguise, beats a feminine heart in lust for Deacon McCallister. Though she spends a lot of time dreaming about her rival, she never expects to act upon her longings.

When Miri follows an outlaw to the fanciest whorehouse in Texas and crosses paths with her heart’s desire, she trades her buckskins for bare skin to play the part of Deacon’s paid companion.

Inside Scoop: Miri figures wrong when she thinks one taste of Deacon will be enough and quickly discovers her undercover lover has forever on his mind.

A Romantica®/Lawless erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

Links to find me:

Gem’s Place
Wild and Wicked Cowboys
Twitter
Google+ 
GoodReads 
Amazon Page
Dreamcatcher Newsletter eZine 

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Buy Links for the Eclipse Heat series:

Ellora’s Cave | Kindle | Nook | ARe 

Yesterday’s prize, that pretty little pair of lapis and silver earrings,
is still up for grabs!  Be sure to comment to win! ~DD

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Anyone Can Write a Book!

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard this: “Anyone can write a book.” The statement usually comes from a person who doesn’t write, but I believe the premise is true. Each and every one of us has a story. It may be about our lives or a tale of fiction, but how many of us will actually write it?

You need a beginning that grabs the reader’s interest, a middle that doesn’t sag and a satisfying ending that ties everything together. It takes time, effort and dedication.

But romance, especially erotic romance isn’t a real book! I’ve heard that too. But I can assure you that I want to write a good book. That’s what motivates me each time I turn on my laptop.

I’m not trying to change your life or lecture you on how to live it. Nor do I seek to change the world. I write to entertain. I write to fulfill a personal need. I love to create characters, build worlds and tell tales. Stories are always churning in my brain. Ideas come from myriad sources. If I can’t write, I miss it.

A new book excites me. Edits and revisions drive me crazy, but I know the end result is a better story. Seeing the final product with the cover art and title makes me happy.

The world of writing has changed. Social media, an abundance of publishers and indie publishing allows equal opportunity to anyone who wishes to share their imagination. If you have a story, tell it. Be happy.

Forever 2: Night Sins Changeling Press

Night is made for sin and vampires rule the dark.

An officer for the Dead Souls Agency, Harper Croix’s job is vampire enforcement. One night her job takes a lethal turn and Harper has a showdown with an old one. He’s nothing like the rabid bloodsuckers she burns, arrests and destroys. He’s handsome, strong, disciplined and he wants revenge.

Egan wants Agent Croix to suffer for her sins against his kind. Revenge is a dish best served cold, but Croix is hot and tasty. One encounter leads to another. Enemies become lovers.

Harper has sworn to enforce the vampire laws, not break them. An affair with a vampire is reckless. Falling in love is crazy stupid. Egan is irresistible.

B.J. McCall is published in paranormal, sci-fi and contemporary erotic romance by eRed Sage, Cobblestone Press, Changeling Press and Ellora’s Cave. Her books are available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and ARe. B.J.’s latest release is Night Sins, the second book in her urban fantasy series, Forever, published by Changeling Press.

Click on the cover to order!

Since the theme is my choice today, I thought I’d introduce you to an exciting new story! Crescent Moon will release on June 4th—or at least the first installment of the book will release on that date. The scary part for me? It’s not all written. Once the first part releases (the first five chapters), readers will have a chance to interact with me to let me know what they think about the story, and maybe to influence the rest of it! I have just two parts completed and am working on the third. There will be eight altogether. This will be a full-length novel by the time I am done, but you will only have to pay $1.99 to begin reading, and then every two weeks, a new installment will be shipped automatically to your Kindle. You won’t have to pay another penny.

What’s Crescent Moon all about? I’m not 100% sure.

The story’s still germinating. I do know that the first part begins in ancient Egypt with my heroine who lives an exalted life as the wife of a god. You will get a hint of her predicament when you read the following scene. Then the story picks up in New Orleans with a gruff, damaged cop, Juste Henry Boucher, who finds the heroine during a robbery investigation at a local museum. That’s pretty much all I know, except that demons are rising…

Because I’m so excited about this project, I have a special prize to offer one lucky commenter today. Let me know how you like the story so far. Be sure to check out the book at Amazon (just click on the cover!). The prize? A pair of earrings, handmade by me. Silver and lapis lazuli. Something Egyptian-themed to go along with the book! I will choose a winner Sunday night! Enjoy the excerpt!

From Crescent Moon:

One last time, her mind drifted, peacefully content…no shadows or disquiet to disturb her…allowing her to separate the parts of herself, first body from spirit…and then the mournful, dying part of her soul to dwell forever in the pit, while what remained, the part that would be born again, floated upward on golden wings. 

Her sprit ba left her mortal shell and spread its wings, flying through the small bright hole in the ceiling, leaving behind her swaddled human form, which lay on a bare wooden bench.

One, two, three strong surges of her fluttering wings and she flew toward the sun, free at last and feeling grateful to her husband for his generous gift. Her wings caught an updraft and she held them still, floating on the wind, the glorious waning sun warming her back.

Her spirit flew above white limestone cliffs and past a deep quarry littered with enormous blocks of carved stone. A sudden gust riffled through her feathers, forcing her to fly west, high above a barren valley.

But at last, her ba tired, circling downward, searching for the great river to lead her home. But no familiar white-washed city dwellings, no temple walls lay below. No fields of cotton and wheat.

Confused,  she made her way back to the dismal pit. Not wanting to enter, she flitted around the opening, feeling weary and afraid. Something dark awaited her. Some horror in the shadows.

And then she spotted the man with the dark watchful gaze, standing beneath the opening, his arms outspread to catch her…

Her heart pounded against her chest, the sound intruding on the vision. Khepri’s eyes slammed open.

Freedom was only a dream, a memory. How long had she been sleeping?

Slowly, Khepri grew more aware of her surroundings. Pressure enveloped her from head to toes. Frayed edges of linen strips surrounded her eyes. An ache centered in her head made her want to gasp, but when she tried to draw a deep breath, the constriction around her chest made the movement impossible. She couldn’t feel her fingers or toes. Her body, other than her head and chest, was numb.

Something was terribly wrong. Short, panicked breaths huffed in the silence.

She blinked, bright sunlight streaming through a hole in the rock ceiling above, blinding her, making her eyes tear. Unable to turn her head, she peered beneath the fringe of her dark lashes, through the openings left in the fabric, gazing upward. Her sight cleared slowly, but was filtered as though looking through the gauzy curtains that surrounded her bed in her tiny house inside the temple walls. But the haze obstructing her sight wasn’t merely physical. It was a thin curtain pulled over her mind. One placed there. Purposely, to confuse.

Her head reeled, not understanding, not recognizing where she lay.  The sickly-sweet scent of frankincense tickled her nose.

“Precious little warrior, you are awake.”

If she could have drawn a deep breath, she would have spit. Sudden fury trembled through her body. She didn’t understand what was happening, but knew he was the one to blame. She wanted to rage against him, ask how he dared abduct her. She was Amun’s wife, his mortal consort. But the only sound that scratched from her throat was a tiny whimper.

“You have questions,” he crooned from beside her. “We have little time. Pharaoh’s army marches. They will find us soon. We must bury the nameless one, hide him before they can entomb him. No one must ever find his body. He will not sleep in a sarcophagus. No texts will be written to reawaken him, no mask placed over his head so that he may recognize himself in the afterlife. He must not rise.”

Her lashes drifted downward. She remembered the moment the handsome, lying vizier stepped off the plank lowered from the side of the barge.

“Pharaoh is dead,” he’d said, his voice uninflected.

Her heart had grown still. The news was devastating to be sure, but why had he traveled so far from Luxor to tell her?

And then snippets of memories bombarded her mind.

Khepri moaned, spreading her lips and baring her teeth to catch the edges of the strips surrounding her mouth, but they were stiffened and wouldn’t give. Her eyes rounded in fear as she realized how dire was her predicament.

He bent closer, his dark eyes alight with sympathy. But then he moved away. Taking with him his masculine scent, musk she’d found attractive. The odor mocked her now.

Although she feared him, she wanted to cling to the sight of him. Didn’t want to feel so alone, so trapped and helpless. Perhaps she could reason with him. But he was insane. Would no one stop him?

Deep in her mouth, she gurgled, nearly choking on the tears that leaked from her eyes and burned the back of her throat. “Please,” she whispered. From a distance, she heard his footsteps. He drew nearer, holding in one hand a slender reed with one end frayed and trimmed to form a brush and dripping red paint, and in the other a palette, red pigment swirled. He leaned over her and made strokes on the coverings enclosing her chest, down her belly, splitting over her thighs and moving down to her toes.

“What are you doing?” she rasped, as some of the cool liquid seeped through to touch her skin.

“Painting spells, Khepri, Amun’s wife. Introducing you to Set, the protector of souls, entreating him to keep you close until you are needed. To hide you from Osiris so your soul will not be judged. Not yet.”

“Until I am needed? I am needed at the temple.”

He tsked and continued to paint, accompanied by the soft chuffing sounds of bristles rasping on resin-hardened fabric.

Her tears quickened, soaking her skin beneath the wrappings and leaking into her hair. “I am The God’s Wife. You have no right.”

He sighed and strode back into view. When he leaned over her, sympathy no longer shone in his eyes. A deep furrow dug between his sharp dark brows. “I need quiet to think,” he said, his words peppering her like hard pellets. He placed a hand over her nose and mouth, cutting off her air.

Panic made her gurgle, but she was unable to fight. She stared upward at his gleaming eyes until darkness closed over her vision.

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Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:

Myla Jackson
Lauren Dane
Leah Braemel
Caris Roane
Eliza Gayle
Jody Wallace
McKenna Jeffries
Shiloh Walker
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Lissa Matthews
Felicity Heaton
Mari Carr

A Guy’s Guide to Writing Romance

When I stumbled into writing romance, it was not planned. By pure accident, I began revising a paranormal suspense piece I was working on and it slowly transformed into a romance. Now, keep in mind, I’d not only never written one but I hadn’t even read one.

I was lost and sinking in treacherous waters without a life jacket. I had no idea what I was doing at that point and yet my muse refused to yield to venture back to the safety of the genres I knew and read. She insisted the romantic element to my book blossom into a full-blown, paranormal erotic romance.

I had much to learn and learn I did. Through the wonder of the internet, I found writer resources, made contacts, found guidance and even some how-to articles. But using my male brain, translation was dim and I needed more light. So, I read over 200 romance novels, hoping it would sink it. It wasn’t until I realized I could keep my man-card and still write romance, that it eventually clicked. That mission impossible my muse sent me on, became my first published book, Gothic City Lights.

So, let me pass on some advice for the male author seeking to try their hand at the Romance Genre.

I bet you’re expecting me to say something like “embrace your inner woman” or “get in touch with your feminine side”.  Well, I’m not. In fact, probably the exact opposite. The first thing that men notice about romance novels, is the hero. He is the guy we want to relate to, but just can’t. And more men than won’t will toss the romance novel aside and go back to their paramilitary thriller books they are comfortable with. I confess, I nearly did too.

The very first thing a male author writing romance has to understand is that he is not writing for male readers. This quite obviously explains why he can’t connect with the Romance Novel Hero. The hero is purposely a fantasy. His job is to tantalize the deepest desires of the women who read his tale. He is unreal, yet, if crafted well, at least believable. For women. Men for the most part, simply go “Yeah, right.”

Think of it like this. As men, we objectify women as sex objects. Wrong or right, we do. We can’t really help it. Everywhere you look, there are pictures, videos, sounds, art and all forms of media showing us the “perfect” female form. It’s not hard to understand why Sports Illustrated Magazine’s bestselling edition is their annual swimsuit issue.

Well, women objectify men as well. The medium is usually different, but it’s the same thing. And you know what? It’s okay to fantasize. I dread a world where fantasizing is not allowed or even discouraged. I don’t know about you, but I read to escape the real world and enter one where my fantasies are entertained. I know I’m not alone in this.

Okay, so by understanding the hero is supposed to be fantastical and surreal, the male author can let go of trying to relate to him on a real world level. This is the time to crank up your testosterone and inject it into your hero. Where real men can’t be massive bulks of muscle, deadly and dangerous, suave and sophisticated, successful and wealthy, and articulate and intelligent, all at the same time, your hero can and should. Now, step two.

Understanding the mechanics of the Romance genre is really just as simple as any other genre. Every genus of fiction has its rules. From Space Opera to Chick Lit and from Epic Fantasy to Cozy Mystery, there are defined elements that must be present. As a male author, these are no different if you were a female author, so just learn those requirements and you’re well on your way.

That leaves what I found to be the stumbling block. The emotional conflict. Another confession: I didn’t even understand what an emotional conflict was until recently. By pure accident, my books had them and thus, they sold to publishers. But I didn’t put them there on purpose. Talk about lucky.

Anyway. This critical element to the Romance Novel, I think, is the biggest obstacle for male authors. You see, we process emotions differently than women. It’s simply how men and women are hard-wired. Women are from Venus and men are from Mars, right? We’re writing for women and so we have to formulate an outsider’s interpretation of “Emotional Conflict.”

It’s difficult to describe how I personally deal with this issue without sounding cheap or demeaning, but essentially, I fake it. I honestly don’t think it’s possible for a man to feel emotions the same as a woman does and vice versa. Since I cannot feel the emotions the same way, I have to concentrate on the parts I can relate to and formulate a basic understanding.

I do know several authors who claim to perfectly understand the opposite sex, but—with all due respect—it doesn’t show in their writing. Several authors are very good at “faking it” and manage beautifully written stories and scenes from the opposite sex’s point of view. That takes talent and is rare. Amazon is crunch full of romance books where I can tell you, the author hasn’t clue one how men think. Hehehe.

The best compliment I’ve ever received was being told my female perspective was better than most female author’s the reviewer had read. I attained that compliment by tripling my concentration when dealing with my heroines and the emotional conflicts entwined within the plots of my stories. It was not easy and it is something I still do and will always struggle with by the very fact I am not female. My fragile male brain just can’t completely wrap around the female mind. Hehehe.

That was a compliment, in case it was read wrong.

But this brings me back to point number one and why it doesn’t matter if the hero is an authentic human male. He shouldn’t be. On the flip side of the coin however, the heroine must be genuine right down to her toes. This is why a male author has to understand the aspects of the genre that, in a word, are alien to the male thought pattern.

There it is in a nutshell. Obviously, every writer handles the aspects of writing differently and the “rules” really are simply guidelines. But I caution the male author when attempting their hand at romance, don’t skip the basics and pay extra attention to the aspects that make romance one of the most successful fiction genres of all time.

Now, let me give out a great big hug and thank you to Delilah for hosting me here today. I hope at the very least you all found me entertaining. I won’t be here all week, but do try the veal.

Brindle Chase
www.forlorn-hope.net

Check the comments of yesterday’s blog for the three winners names!

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Y’all know I love cowboys. Every shape, size, nice chest and six-pack to go with it, so I guess I’ll post a little about my coming release. I don’t have a buy link yet, but I do have a HAWT cover!

It will be available in the next couple of weeks. So be on the look out for the buy link coming soon!

Mesa Arraguso writes about hot cowboys for a living. Being a romance writer has it perks and its drawbacks. She spends a lot of time alone in front of her computer, but she gets to fantasize about incredibly hot men wearing cowboy boots and Stetsons. While visiting San Antonio, Texas for a writer’s conference, she finds herself stranded on the back roads of Bandera only to be rescued by one of the most gorgeous men she’s ever encountered, be it fantasy or for real.

Joel Young is a cowboy. From the top of his Stetson to the tip of his dirty cowboy boots, he’s cowboy through and through. Along with rescuing women when they do silly things like running out of gas miles from town on a dirt road, he spends his days herding cattle, fixing fences and breaking horses.

Can one handsome cowboy and a city-girl from LA find common ground is the Hill Country long enough to see beyond a quick fling?

As the water began rising rapidly she realized she needed to get the hell out of her car before it was washed away. In the distance she could make out several larger rocks. “If I can get on top of them, I should be safe from the rush. Of course, that means I’ll be out in the rain getting soaked.” Fear rose, threatening to choke her with the lump in her throat. She rubbed her arms trying to calm the chills while deciding what to do. She really didn’t have much choice. Water ran in rivulets down the windshield. Lightning continued to flash and thunder rolled over the area. She sucked in a large breath as she bit her lip.

A moment later a tap, tap, tap on her window startled her out of her thoughts. She jumped and screamed as a face appeared near her door. Blue eyes with long lashes stared back beneath a black cowboy hat. Black hair ruffled slightly with the wind.

“Ma’am? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You need to get this car out of the water. You’ll be washed away. It’s rising fast.”

“I can’t. I’m out of gas.”

“Open the door.”

“Hell, no. Do I look crazy to you?” she asked, her voice shrill with terror.

“Trust me. If I were a serial killer, I wouldn’t be out in this shit trying to find women to abduct. I’m going to help you, but you need to get out of the car first before we’re both swept away.”

Mesa bit her lip. Should she trust him?

“Ma’am?”

“All right.” She eased open the door to find the water almost reached the bottom of the car. The cowboy pulled the door the rest of the way as she grabbed her purse.

“We have to hurry,” he said, offering her a hand to help her from the car. “Let me help you. This water is rushing pretty fast.”

A red horse stood patiently several feet away with its head down, riding out the storm the only way horses knew how. A cowboy on a real horse out here in the middle of nowhere? Surely, it’s safe. I mean serial killers don’t ride horses, right?

Excerpt

He winced as she dabbed again. It had to hurt, she knew but all she could think about was kissing those full lips. She wanted to see his eyes dark with desire. Feel his hands on her bare flesh. Have those lips on other places of her body like her breasts, her nipples, or her clit.

“You okay?” he whispered, glancing up through those impossibly long eyelashes.

“Yeah.” Her heart pounded behind her ribcage.

“Your pulse is fluttering.”

“I know.”

“Why?” His voice continued in a soft, coaxing tone reminding her of how he spoke to the horse while she gave birth to her colt.

“It’s nothing, Joel.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

She closed her eyes and licked her lips. God, do I ever want you to kiss me. More than my next breath. More than a winning lottery ticket. More than…

The next thing she knew, he had twisted her around so she lay flat on the bed with him hovering over her. He bent down and brushed his lips against hers so softly she wasn’t sure if he’d actually kissed her.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.”

He kissed her again, this time with his tongue softly brushing her lips as if to ask for permission to deepen it. Her lips parted of their own accord without her even thinking beyond how his lips felt against hers. The dip of his tongue tore a moan from her mouth. She tangled her hands in the front of his western shirt, wanting nothing more than to remove the barrier between his skin and hers.

The fire burning in her gut prompted her to return kiss for kiss, touch for touch.

I hope you enjoyed the blurb and excerpt. This book is scheduled to be out the end of this month. Keep your eyes open to www.secretcravingspublishing.com for release information.

~ Sandy

Elle kindly offered to give away three prizes! The winners were chosen by
random number generator. They are Karen C, Elizabeth H, and Sharon Chalk!
Congratulations,  ladies!  I’ll send your emails along to Elle so that she can get
with you to arrange delivery of your prizes!

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Just Because

I’ve been in a writing funk for the past couple of weeks and I need something to cheer me up. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to make readers happy. If it’s by the escape I provide, the happily-ever-after I deliver or just saying hello, I hope I make someone else happy in my work. So for all the readers out there, enjoy a good book, take a little journey and have a little fun between the pages. I know where you’re  coming from and enjoy where you’re going to, because I’m a reader too! That’s how I got my start. I love to read, and I love the satisfaction of a great story with a  happy ending.

Leave a comment on why you like to read for a chance to win the prize I’m giving away today in honor of my latest book release VOODOO FOR TWO (CAJUN MAGIC series). The prize? A book and a toy bug. The bug because it’s one of the characters in the book. The book, just because.

Elle’s Bio:

Elle James spent twenty years in South Central Texas, ranching horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus. A former IT professional, retired Army and Air Force Reservist, she’s proud to be writing full-time, penning intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edge of their seats or laughing out loud. Now, living in northwest Arkansas, she’s given up wrangling cattle and exotic birds to wrangle her muses, a malti-poo and a yorkie. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow skiing, boating, or riding her four-wheeler, dreaming up new stories.

Social Media:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | GoodReads

Voodoo For Two Buy Links:
Buy at Amazon
Buy at B&N

About Voodoo For Two:
Be careful what you wish for…

Determined to marry the most eligible bachelor in the parish to save her family, Lucie LeBieu turns a “love bug” loose to cast its Voodoo spell. What she doesn’t count on is hitting two targets—the golden boy congressional candidate, and her Cajun-hot ex. To set things right, she must undo the spell before she falls into bed—-and back in love—with a certain down and dirty heartbreakin’ cop.

Undercover investigator Ben Boyette is back in Louisiana on special assignment when he runs across his old flame, brewing up trouble as usual. But when hometown threats turn deadly, Lucie’s life is on the line. Determined to protect both her and his politician assignment from falling victim to a murderer, Ben finds that he’s the one who’s falling hard…for the irresistible bayou temptress.