Some books have a way of getting right down into your bones. The first book to grab hold of me like that was Jane Eyre, which I read a dozen times before I even hit high school. It’s a lonely story and a very strange romance, with its governess heroine and un-handsome, sarcastic hero. One of the strangest parts in it is the scene where Jane is compelled by Rochester to show him her portfolio of paintings and sketches. He picks three in particular to quiz her about.

Reader, these are strange artworks — a seabird stealing jewelry from a shipwrecked corpse, a woman imagined as the Evening Star, and a pale, gigantic head in a landscape choked with arctic ice. They are keenly described and yet somehow still ghostly. Before now we have seen Jane neglected in her family’s house and isolated at Lowood School, but we have never seen her thoughts and anxieties expressed so vividly in images rather than in words. Those cold, mournful pictures are her own deeply felt loneliness projected outward on the world — it is no wonder Rochester responds to them and calls them “elfish.”

Jane sketches several other images over the course of the novel — portraits, mostly — and there’s always a little something wild in the way she does it, as though despite all her self-restraint and discipline there is some part of her that is always trying to escape. It’s a fascinating thing to read, and I can’t help wondering how Jane’s sketches and paintings changed once she found her way back to Rochester and their own peculiar form of happiness. Was there still something wild about her? Or did she allow her paintings to show more warmth, more human connection than she’d known before? Would that make her more or less successful at depicting the scenes in her imagination?

These questions didn’t go away. (For authors, such questions never go away.) So now I’m finishing up work on Color Me Bad, an erotic historical romance with a hero who’s a painter. And though I’m no Charlotte Brontë — for one thing, my books are much, much smuttier — it was fun to borrow this particular writing trick and see what it did to the shape of the story. To let my hero’s paintings say what he wasn’t ready to say yet himself, or to let their images take the place of his own hopes and fears. Whether I used this technique successfully, or whether my imagination outpaced my skill, like Jane’s — well, dear Reader, you will be the best judge of that.

Olivia Waite

Ooops! I was supposed to have a guest today, but she must have forgotten all about me. So, very quickly, I’m posting a question. I love these, because you all cheerfully come to play. Now, I have to go pack!

What is the one attraction or place you’ve visited that didn’t live up to all its hype?

I forgot to post this morning. That almost never happens.

But it’s been busy here. Crazy busy. And I’m doing my best to keep up.

The books. Maybe if you saw what my writing schedule’s been like you’d understand.

What’s grayed out is what I’ve finished. And you can see what I have left to address by the end of the month. Ha! I’m doing my best to finish the BDSM novel by next week. The editor was kind enough to extend my deadline.

And then there’s the behind-the-scenes work my dd and I are doing to get The Emerald Casket up and running. We’ve been busy making inventory—mostly pendants and bracelets for now. The site is built, just needs a shopping basket. Soon, though. I’ve been Facebooking pieces I particularly love and the response has been wonderful.

And in the midst of all this, I have to leave Thursday morning to head to my sister’s in North Arkansas (4-hour drive), so that Friday morning we can drive to Omaha (7-hour drive) to give a plotting bootcamp to the RWA chapter there. I won’t be back at my desk until Tuesday, and then I have to hit it hard to finish up the BDSM project by end of week.

Did I mention that sis and I are conducting an online plotting bootcamp for the month of January too?

See why I might be a little forgetful? All this multi-tasking is making my head spin!

Anyway, just wanted to let you know what’s goin’ on and to tell you I have some wonderful guests lined up to keep you entertained while I’m gone. Send me good thoughts—and any energy you have lying around that you don’t need! 🙂  ~DD

Will Tying Them Up Tie Me Down?

Thanks, Delilah for hosting me! Not every day I get to hang out with a Penthouse Pet, lol.

I’ve noticed a very interesting bent in my romance heroes lately. The sci fi pirates and the contemporary alpha males in the 2 new series I’m writing. They, um, wanna tie women up.

Where the heck did that come from? I mean, I’ve been accused of writing BDsm in my Orion Series. Don’t really think that’s on the mark.

Okay, so Captain Steve Craig of Her Commander does use soft restraints on his spunky half-Serpentian guard Tessa. And maybe he captures her in the dark … once. But it’s all in good, sexy fun.

Oh, and maybe Commander Daron Navos in Deep Indigo does use mind-control on his intern, Nelah Cobalt, but she gets it. Kinda takes come hither to a whole new level.

Well, and so what if Tryon Jag in Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bryght demands that Calla be his submissive for the duration of his mating shift?

Oh, wait. I see where this is going now. Huh. I’ve been writing mild BDsm and didn’t realize it. (Note: Yes, I use caps on the BD and lower case on the sm ‘cause I consider the first part sexy and the second part not for me)

Of course my Hawaiian Heroes contemporary paranormal romance series is hot vanilla. And I’m sure I’ll do more romance without kink. After all, I don’t want to tie myself to just one sub-genre of romance.

But, in 2013, readers, hang on to your panties.

In The LodeStar Series, we’re taking a fast space ship to the newly settled planet of Frontiera, with space magnate Logan Stark and his two brothers. The three grew up rough, and now these alphas have one approach to life and sex—they’re in charge. Hmm, their feisty females may have something to say about that. Hope it’s ‘Yes!’

In Club 3, three alpha weightlifters from Portland Oregon who own a gym and fitness center decide that maybe, given their sexual need to dominate, they should open another kind of club. The kind that’s private and opens up when the sun goes down. Mm-hmm, that kind.

I’ll be self-pubbing LodeStar starting in winter 2013. Club 3 will debut with a digital first publisher. If you’d like to know when they come out, sign up for my Newsletter.  It’s easy, and will show up in your email box ONLY when I have a new book out.

Best,

Cathryn Cade

… red hot romance!

Goodreads, My Website, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Samhain Author Page,

And sign up for My Newsletter for a chance to win goodies!

Well, not in the way you usually expect when you imagine hearing those words! A story I wrote for Kristina Wright’s Duty and Desire collection for Cleis Press was picked up by Penthouse Magazine as a “Bedtime Story!”

I sent my daughter on a mission yesterday while I worked. You can’t find that magazine in any store in our nearby small town, so she went to Little Rock. Now, I don’t know if I mentioned my daughter is pregnant…? Well, anyway, she spotted a copy in Barnes and Noble in Little Rock in the “Men’s Interests” section of the magazine rack. She ended up having to climb two shelves and reach far into the back. If I’d been there, it would have been a YouTube moment.

The fun didn’t end there. I get the magazine and my mom sticks her head out of her office, “Where is it?”

I handed her the magazine and she’s pawing through the pages making faces until she gets to my story. I wonder how many authors have moms like that, huh?

Anyway, I’m sooooooo excited. It’s a 6-page spread with three very cool illustrations! Take a look!

So, the question I have is…

I know most fathers and mothers would groan if their daughters rushed through the door saying that. Looking back, can you imagine yourself ever doing that? Was there a boyfriend who might have made you a little wild and daring? Were you ever in that frame of mind where posing nude for publication would have been okay? Would you do it now?

Janice Hougland won the prize! Congrats, Janice! Send me an email to arrange delivery! ~DD

* * * * *

Today’s Saturday Snippets have a common theme of emotion. Since I need to be ruthless like a warrior today (I’m nearing my deadline for a new full-length novel!), I chose the opening scene of the second of my “Vikings in Space” stories, Enslaved by a Viking. To me, there’s nothing more frightening or sexy than a man pushed to his limits. Poor Eirik is there. See the woman who will be the focus of his powerful anger. I love this scene. Loved writing this book. Someday, I hope to get back to my Vikings in a galaxy far, far away…

 Since I don’t have a downloadable copy of this book, I’ll offer a free download of another futuristic story I’ve written, Warlord’s Destiny. Post a comment today, and you’ll be entered to win it!

“Probably one of the most erotic openings I have encountered in a book…if readers are looking for a book with smoking hot sex and a really unique and fresh premise, this is it!” ~ Debbie’s Book Bag

His suffering….

Though proud and strong, Eirik, heir to the Ulfhednars kingdom, found himself seduced and taken from his homeworld by a bounty-hunting vixen, who sold him into slavery. Purchased by a wealthy, Consortium-backed brothel, he is kept at a heavily guarded and secure breeding facility, where he is forced to feed the lustful whims of Helios’s elite at night. He bides his time, waiting for a chance to escape and get his revenge on the woman who betrayed him…

Her satisfaction….

Once a sex thrall, Fatin earned her freedom through service. Now, as a bounty hunter, she is determined to earn enough to buy her sister’s papers from the same brothel she escaped. For this, she abducts a brutishly handsome, breed-worthy specimen from the Viking planet and delivers him to auction. But her desire for justice and his desire for freedom may consume both of them in a passion neither wanted—or can resist.

Eirik tried not to breathe too deeply. The rotten, sour smells of his dark, dank prison already made his skin stink. He didn’t want the awful stench inside his lungs or belly.

He hadn’t seen the other prisoners, not after they’d been herded like cattle through a chute once the hatch had been opened at the side of the ship and his keepers applied prods to their backsides to move them out in single file.

With only brief impressions of his new home, of searing heat and blinding, harsh sunlight, he’d shielded his arm over his eyes and stumbled down the gangway, through the iron-barred alley that disallowed any thoughts of escape.

He’d been led to this cell, deep inside an enormous stone building. A brief glimpse of an open arena, and then he’d been shoved down two flights of narrow stone steps.

Once they’d slammed the solid door and slid the eye-level window closed, he’d been left alone, no sounds penetrating his prison other than the hum of the light above him, and the sounds his own body made.

His thoughts drowned it all out, screaming inside him. He’d wanted to beat his fists against the door, rail at his captors, but he didn’t know if anyone watched him, and wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing how close to abject despair he was coming.

Hel, he’d even suffer Fatin’s derision, her cold, calculating touch, just to feel or hear another human being. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m taking over Delilah Devlin’s Blog today (bwahahaha)!

First the introductions:

I’m A. M. Griffin, a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies. She has multi-publications in other genres under a different pen name.

When I was trying to come up with topics for today’s blog, the first thing that popped into my head was girl-on-girl sex.

Why? *shrugs* Cause it just did.

I never set out to have girl-on-girl action included in my new EC debut release Dangerously Mine, but for some strange reason it just happened.

You’ve probably heard a lot of authors talk about their characters as if they were alive and somehow had a mind of their own. I can honestly say that it’s true.

My character Princess Sa’Mya was supposed to be my heroine’s nemesis. I needed someone privileged, bitchy and irritating. Princess Sa’Mya is all that and more.

During one of my favorite scenes, Princess Sa’Mya was making Eva wash her hair. Yea, the privileged bitch characteristic was in full effect. Anyway, Princess Sa’Mya wanted to know why her betrothed, King Taio was more interested in the human Eva, rather than herself.

I had intended for Sa’Mya to be curious about a species that she had never encountered before. They were going to go back and forth with bitchy banter. You know the normal girl catfight stuff.

It was going perfectly as I intended it to until Sa’Mya reached out and touched Eva’s clit. Once that happened, it was like I couldn’t stop my fingers from flying with lightning speed across the computer keyboard.

I kept saying things like “This girl is such a freak!” and “Why is she doing that?” and of course, “Is she about to do what I think she’s about to do?”

My poor husband who was sitting next to me had this look on his face. Much like the same look you would give someone before having them committed to the Looney Bin.

The end result is hot as hell. So much so that in the follow-up book (which is Princess Sa’Mya’s story) there’s another girl-on-girl scene.

Mind you, my stories are all M/F sci-fi romance, but for some reason there’s just a freaky twist. Maybe that’s why I ended up with Ellora’s Cave, where my freakiness can be supported.

Here’s an excerpt:

“I wonder what he sees in you,” Sa’Mya said.

She leisurely skimmed the water’s surface with her fingertips. Recognizing a rhetorical question when she heard one, Eva didn’t respond. “I am offering him all of this.” Sa’Mya ran her wet hands down her voluptuous body.

Her double-D breasts hung ripe and full. Her neatly tapered waist led to full-sized hips, a round ass and, of course, long, shapely legs.

“You have the body of a child.” Sa’Mya sneered.

I could apply a small amount of pressure to her windpipe.

Clearly the princess didn’t know anything about fighting. Talking smack while your back is to an opponent was a no-no. Read the rest of this entry »