UPDATE: The winners are…Colleen C and Eileen McCall!
*~*~*

I’m being lazy again! I pieced together this patchwork of covers last month for a contest, and I’m using it again because I’m up to my eyeballs! Do you care? 🙂

Contest

For a chance to win your choice of one of the books below,
tell me something about yourself others might find strange or weird. Have fun!

Click on any cover to learn more about the story!

Excerpt from Begging for It…

Cross McNally watched the woman walk away, her back straight, but her chin tilted at an angle that betrayed her inner turmoil. He’d seen her cross the street and thought he’d recognized her, but she’d given him a sneer when he’d slowed down.

He’d parked in front of the bar and followed her inside. When he’d seen her drag the dude in the Brooks Brothers suit out the back, he’d hurried out the front and around the side to watch.

It was shadowed where they stood, but he hadn’t needed to see clearly to know what they were doing or what it was doing to her. Her groans had been edged with desperation. The hard, crunching thrusts had to have rubbed her back and ass raw.

A familiar ache settled in his chest. The last time he’d felt it, he’d held her against his chest while she’d beaten him with bloody fists.

Cross left the bar and walked back to his car. He opened the door and slid behind the wheel but paused for a long moment before kicking the ignition. It must have been fate that had him on this exact street at just the right moment to find her.

And it looked as if he’d have to rescue her all over again. He just hoped this time she wouldn’t hate him.

Thanks so much to Delilah for having me on her blog today – squee! I’m Lainey Reese and I’m the USA Today Bestselling Author of the New York Series and other works. I’m thrilled to be here with you to share the story of how my brand new BDSM series came about – it’s called The Kimberly Chronicles and follows the story of a sassy, submissive hairstylist who barges her way into an FBI investigation. The first book in the series, Lace & Flames, released just two days ago with two more books to come soon. Here’s a quick summary!

When Kimberly trolls the local BDSM club after her friend goes missing, she finds herself ensnared in something a hell of a lot bigger and more sinister than she had bargained for. She also finds herself face to face with her sexy new therapist.

Dean Ackles is deep undercover with the FBI and from the moment his fiery new client entered the Lion’s Den, he should have known it would only be a matter of time until he gave in to the temptation to make her his own. With Kimberly suddenly in the hot seat smack dab in the middle of his case, it’s going to take both Dean along with his partner and best friend Sam to see her safely through it.

So, that’s the crazy, sexy story in a nutshell. But you could have read as much from the back of the book. It was suggested to me that I share with you how this story came to be, so that is what this blog will be about.

I went to my first ever KallypsoCon last November and it literally saved my life. I was in the grips of a deep depression while I was there and the women I met turned everything around for me. Everyone there from the amazing Kallypso Masters herself on through to each and every reader I encountered was incredible. Kally’s readers really know how to treat an author right!

There is one woman in particular who stood out from the crowd like she had a spotlight on her wherever she went. She was tall, lusciously curved and had the sort of beauty you see on billboards.

I found her irresistible.

At one point during the con, we toured a real life BDSM club and Kimberly floated from room-to-room regal as a queen in a high collared black number that hugged her rich curves. She’d had her gorgeous, honeyed locks piled high on her head with a flutter of lace showcasing her jawline and I knew I had to write her somehow.

It wasn’t until the two of us toured Universal Studios together and bonded over our love of Harry Potter that her story came to me. God bless her, she just uttered one sentence and the entire series fell into my lap.

Here’s how that went: We were in line for our lunch in The Leaky Cauldron and discussing mental health and my need for a therapist (of all things to be discussing in an amusement park!?). I explained to her that I knew I needed to see a therapist and that the problem wasn’t finding one, it was picking one. My insurance had sent me a list to choose from that was multiple pages long. I had been aghast and quite frankly overwhelmed at the plethora of choices, I told her.

“Hmm;” she huffs with her beautiful face scrunched, “I wonder how you could narrow it down. What if you tried looking up their reviews online?”

And that did it. Instantly I burst into laughter so loud the people around us turned to see what was so funny. I knew what she meant but my mind shot immediately to Fictional Kimberly picking out her therapist based on Yelp reviews. And The Kimberly Chronicles was born.

As soon as I got home I started writing. I have never written a book so fast in my life and I love it. I love the energy of the story and the spunk and sass of Kimberly. I love the way she keeps her FBI men on their sexy toes and the villain in this story is one I really love to hate.

Since being home, the depression has become manageable thanks almost entirely to Kimberly, both fictional and real. The woman behind the fantasy has become one of my most cherished friends and I consider myself damn lucky she loves Harry more than Mickey or none of this would be happening.

So, that is the story of how one hell of a real woman birthed one hell of a fictional one.

As for me and my depression? I’m doing great these days and spend most of my time buried in my computer and letting the words flow. I feel like the darkest days are finally behind me and there is more than sadness and grief ahead. For the first time in a very long time, there is hope on the horizon and I owe it all to the KallypsoCon and the amazing women I met there. They saved me that weekend and for that I will always be grateful.

Lace & Flames Blurb & Buy Links

The search for her missing friend will ignite dangerous desires…

Before her best friend went missing, the most stressful things in Kimberly Lace’s life were her demanding hairdressing clients and trying not to flirt with her gorgeous therapist. But with no
answers from the police, Kimberly decides to investigate her friend’s disappearance for herself.

Undercover FBI forensic psychologist Dean Ackles needs to keep his mind on the job. Five women are missing, but his distracting thoughts about his client Kimberly are almost as bad as the
guilt he feels about lying to her. When he and his partner Sam find Kimberly searching for answers at The Lion’s Den, things get heated.

For Kimberly, the flames of desire are ignited for not one, but two men. And while she might be happy to submit to them in the bedroom, there’s no way Kimberly is giving up for the search for
her friend, no matter how much they insist on keeping her safe.

Their powerful attraction will lead Kimberly into the heart of danger and tempt her to risk everything for passion, including her own life.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3HT57vw
Apple Books: https://apple.co/3gNGzbC
Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/3JsMU8F
Kobo: https://bit.ly/3uUItzk

Giveaway

I’d love to give you the chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card! Just follow the link below and answer the question. I’ll choose one winner on March 5 and my assistant will send it out.
https://lainey-reese-giveaway.paperform.co

About the Author

Lainey – born in Tacoma, Washington – was raised mostly in Nevada and California. The youngest of five, Lainey dreamed of being an actress and starring in blockbuster movies she wrote herself. As she grew, the dreams of being on the big screen faded but the ones of writing those fantastic stories never did. At 17 Lainey read her first romance novel and knew she’d found her calling. Here were the stories like the ones in her own heart and mind, and like tumblers falling into position on a combination lock, everything just clicked into place and the world was open to her.

It took a long time before she could work up the courage and belief in herself to try but finally, in 2010 Lainey held her breath and took the leap. Her first novel A Table for Three debuted in February and she hasn’t looked back since. Nor has she given up hope that one day, she will be sitting in a theater, and it will be one of her stories on the big screen…

Along with her husband and two dogs, Lainey lives in Marysville, Washington and they have a daughter going to college in Bellingham.

Social Media Links
• Facebook: facebook.com/AuthorLaineyReese
• TikTok: tiktok.com/@authorlaineyreese.com
• Twitter: twitter.com/lainey_reese
• Instagram: instagram.com/lainey.reesd
• Website: laineyreese.com
• Newsletter: https://bit.ly/laineynewsletter
• Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/3431863.Lainey_Reese
• Patreon: patreon.com/laineyreese
• Amazon Author Central: amazon.com/Lainey-Reese/e/B00J8B37FM
• Bookbub: bookbub.com/authors/lainey-reese

UPDATE: The winners are…Colleen, Miki, bn100, Jennifer Beyer, Debra Guyette, and Stacey Kinzebach!
*~*~*

It’s Monday, a holiday (so kids are home), and it’s the beginning of a week of bad weather. The 8-year-old slept over with me last night and told me to turn off my alarms because she wanted to sleep in. Wish I could sleep in!!!!

Thought I’d take a moment to remind you about the pre-orders I have up. No, I don’t have big old blurbs to tell you about the last two because I haven’t written them yet, and I never know what the story is about until I’m midway through. I know that sounds crazy, but that’s what works for me.

Both of the first two books are EROTIC romance, so be warned! No Tender Mercy comes out on March 22nd! It’s the sequel to Her Sanctuary. If you love Texas and vampires, you’re in for a sexy ride! Dark Seduction, which releases on April 19th, is the sequel to Dark Legacy and is a story I’m republishing. It’s a full-length novel, very sexy, smutty, involves a police investigation, and is full of twists and turns involving vampires and demons. I love the story. It’s my third favorite thing I ever wrote.

These next two are part of a series you should be very familiar with by now! Hot SEAL, Wild Thing releases May 24th! The authors in this series are using song titles as our theme this time around. Of course, I jumped on one of my old favorites. All I know about my hero is that he’s living his life as wild and freely as he can. If you have any ideas why that is, I’d love to hear them! 🙂

If you read my latest bounty hunter story, Eli, then you’ve met Gabriel. And I gave you a huge hint about his possible love interest, so be sure to pre-order so you read their adventure! It releases on June 28th—my birthday!

Contest

For a chance to win your choice of a download from my ginormous backlist, let me know if you plan to read any of these stories! Also, if you want to gripe at me to write a story you’ve been waiting for, let me know! I’ll choose two commenters!

Open Contests

1. Diana Cosby: Valentine’s Day – Birds & Animal’s Love Liam MacGruder! (Contest) — This one ends soon! Win a pretty mug!
2. Story Cubes: Tell me a story… (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
3. Cheryl St. John: My Character’s Clothing Choices (and what it says about her!) FREE in KU! — Get your FREE small-town romance!
4. A Reminder! A Puzzle! And a Contest! Oh, my! — Win an Amazon gift card!
5. January George: The Way Back Home (Contest & Excerpt) — Win an Amazon gift card!

In December, this Southern girl packed a 26-foot rental truck with all my worldly possessions, hooked up a car trailer, and left Alabama, my grown children, friends, job (and oh yes, my ex-husband) and pointed the car/truck contraption to a destination 1,300 miles west. To a new life and a new adventure—the physical journey known! The life journey and ultimate outcome, not so much. As I was climbing out of my car through the window, fielding questions from my midnight, dog-walking neighbor inquiring if I was moving, I looked down at my “Follow your Dreams” T-shirt and for one last time questioned my decision to move west. That’s another story. Let’s just say reading is a valuable skill and the importance of reading instructions, even on your T-shirt, is underappreciated. 

My dog and I left the sultry south for the wild west. We successfully managed to drive and admire the American landscape for that 1,300 miles in the largest, longest vehicle I have ever driven. No one was maimed, no gas pumps blown up, and I didn’t get lost. We even managed to navigate the Dallas traffic without incident. I felt on top of the world. I could do anything. I was invincible. 

My string of good fortune continued. The universe had more than just smiled on me. I had the best friends that sheltered me as I settled in and played find-a-house in a hotter than hot market. They fed me local favorites, served me champagne from the local winery, and showed me around town. I fell in love with my new home state of New Mexico. As a curly-haired Southern girl, frizzy hair has been the bane of my existence. No one ever told me about the miracles of the moisture-less air out here. “Come to New Mexico for amazing hair” should be the state motto. The hiking, the Hatch green chilis, the many bounties of this state are extra. 

Until the snow. 

It all started last week. The weather forecasters were in a fever pitch. The Super Bowl of weather was coming. They got major airtime. It was going to be cold. The conditions were perfect for accumulation. I lived in the city. I was a veteran of hurricanes. I had boots, gloves, and a long down jacket. I was invincible, have I mentioned that? Winter watches were posted for days. I was excited for snow. It was supposed to start after midnight. I waited up. At midnight, I threw open the doors, the artic blast created instant goosebumps, and the dog and I plunged into the darkness. We gazed up. Nothing. Not even the spectacular universe of stars was present. No precipitation from the sky. Deflated and shivering, I headed to bed. 

My alarm roused me from dreams of a winter wonderland. I bounded out of bed, tossing the comforter and three blankets to the floor and threw open the drapes. Nothing. I trudged to the kitchen, started the coffee, and let the dog out. Wait. There was something falling from the sky. It wasn’t perfectly formed works of art. It was more like ugly little ice shards. The weather people lied. Where was my first snow? The fluffy, pristine white miracles of Mother Nature that made you want to curl up by the fire with a hot drink and hotter book? Ice. Hmm. That possibility never entered my mind. How do you drive in that? Luckily, there was nothing on the streets. My commute to my new job—oh, another story—was without incident. The feeling of being robbed of a milestone event lingered as did the sleet. 

Throughout the morning I wandered past the windows, assessing the weather situation. People started leaving around noon. As the parking lot emptied, I noticed there was ice. I heard a passing comment of “Got to get the ice scraper out”. That got me thinking and wondering, “What’s an ice scraper?” and “Why isn’t there a winter storm prepared checklist?” Just then my email dinged with a note from the Safety department. I was supposed to wear my boots to the office then change into regular shoes. Note to self as I looked down at my winter boots. I did not dare venture out for lunch. What was I thinking? Did I not follow that thought through – like I wouldn’t have to drive home? I hunkered down in my jacket and boots working at my desk, apprehension growing. 

My trips past the windows grew in frequency. It was bleak outside. The wind was blowing great gusts of ice, and dare I call it snow, around the lot and building. Where was the picturesque, magical snow? Where were my co-workers’ cars? How do you drive in ice? Visions of news stories from the great Birmingham ice storm flooded my mind. By three, my excitement for snow was completely extinguished and fear of the commute home made work impossible just as the Director of Safety walked past. She noticed me. “What are you still doing here? Haven’t you seen the roads?” I explained that I was new and this was my first winter storm in town. She stopped and gave me a quick overview of winter driving: go slow especially around corners, leave lots of room between cars, and don’t brake when you slide. And I thought driving cross country in a pseudo tractor trailer was daunting! 

I made it the 1.7 uphill miles to my house, again without incident. The invincibility feeling was not coursing through my blood like previously. I was cold, hunkered down in my house looking out wistfully, grateful to be home safe. The pantry was not stocked with hearty foods. Spring mix lettuce ruled the fridge along with a nice bottle of Gruner Veltliner. Apparently, I was still a shopping southern girl. Night fell on the confused Southern girl with the meteorologists still predicting snow. 

The alarm roused me the next morning well before sunrise. I headed to the kitchen for coffee. I didn’t need to turn on the light to see. The moonlight was reflecting off the most exquisite pale powder in my back yard. I ran for my boots and bathrobe. The dog danced at the door. Warm coffee in hand, I opened the door. I didn’t notice the steam coming off my drink or the frigid air blasting. The stars sparkled. It was blissfully still and quiet. Mother Nature had pulled out all the stops. It was all I had imagined. The dog raced through the accumulation like a puppy, barking. Flurries were still falling. It was breathtaking (not just from the temperature). I tossed my head back, twirled, stuck my tongue out to catch snowflakes, and laughed. I threw a snowball at my dog, missed! And, OMG, just missed an attractive, bathrobe clad man, who was peering over the wall at us. I pulled my bathrobe back tight and looked again. No neighbor. My dog didn’t bark. Was there a man or not? The bathrobe had been identical to mine, also loosely tied. I tiptoed over and peeked over the divider. There were definitely tracks, but no handsome man?!? No way I could have imagined that? Could I?

Work had been postponed by several hours. I had a free morning. I turned on the gas fireplace, snuggled into my favorite chair with a steamy novel, and mused about my experience as I finished my second cup of coffee. Yes, there had been a neighbor. No, not possible. But the tracks. Yes. He had been there. I think. 

For the first time, the girl felt like a Western girl, the journey wonderfully unpredictable with endless possibilities. 

I hope the winter storms that have been ravaging the country find you safe, warm, and reading your favorite authors. I had the most fortunate opportunity to contribute to Passionate Ink’s Falling Hard charity anthology. It’s a collection of seven erotic short stories that benefit Proliteracy.  

Check it out if you are looking to discover new authors and stories ranging from historical to paranormal to contemporary. It’s available at Amazon and Kindle Unlimited. Also take a moment to learn about the wonderful work of www.Proliteracy.org. 

What are you reading and how are you coping with the winter weather? I would love to hear from you.  

Thank you to Delilah Devlin for letting me post on her site and reach her fantastic readers. 

XoXo
Candy 

About the Author

Candice LaBria is a writer of erotic romance short stories and a member of Passionate Ink. She is on Facebook facebook.com/CandiceLaBria, and Instagram and Twitter @Bria_Writes. Her website is www.CandiceLabria.com.

***

Girl in Snow photo credit
Photo by Brooke Lewis from Pexels

UPDATE: The winner is…bn100!
*~*~*

Let me tell you a little secret…

Plot bunnies—affectionately named because of how fast the little suckers multiply—are persistent bitey jerks that burrow into a writer’s brain and attempt to take over their mind at the expense of jobs, dentist appointments, and laundry—which is fine, because who needs laundry. *wink*

These evil plot bunnies wake me from a dead sleep to scribble illegibly in a little notebook I keep on my nightstand, leaving me to interpret my drowsy jotting in the morning like I’m staring at Rorschach inkblots. Hey, Stephenie Meyer dreamed up sparkly Edward Cullen one night, inspiring the bestselling Twilight Saga, so it’s not totally off-base to get a good one once in a while.

To be fair, it’s not just paid writing that works this way, since I’ve had the same experience with fan fiction ideas; fic that demands it be written right now. Have a sandwich for dinner, family—I’ve got writing to do!

Once a plot bunny has its fangs in you, it’s all over until you give in to its demands like it’s a bank robber with all the leverage.

Plot Bunny: “Hey. Hey. Hey. You know that thing you’re working on right now?”

Author: *guzzles coffee* “You mean the novel I’m finishing because I’m on deadline?”

PB: “Throw that in the trash. I got something for ya. You’re gonna love it.”

A: *groans* “Not again.”

PB: *cracks knuckles* “So, there’s these two hot guys, only one bed in the whole hotel, and wouldn’t you know it, there’s a blizzard…”

This was my experience last year when I got my weekly email with freebies from a stock photo site. I opened it and scanned the selection—probably the usual “woman laughing while eating a salad”.

But one picture caught my eye: two women side-by-side in a yoga studio, doing a stretch that looked like cobra or upward dog. Nothing out of the ordinary, but something about it…

Hmm…I’d never written a story set in a yoga studio. Maybe they’re friends?

Wait. Friends or not, they’re totally gonna get with each other if they haven’t already, if you know what I mean.

*CHOMP*

The plot bunny grinned, it’s teeth glistening with the fresh idea. I had no choice—I needed to write this now now now now now!

The opening line hit me hard: The first time it happened was between my legs in downward dog.

Oh yeah, I wanted to see where this was going. So, I sat my butt in the chair and feverishly typed while overloading on caffeine and ignoring my eye twitch. Words flowed like a vinyasa, and when it was finished, I knew it would be perfect for an anthology submission.

My evil plot bunny…um…story, Third Time’s the Charm, is in Cleis Press’s Big Book of Orgasms Volume 2: 69 Sexy Stories, available on February 8, 2022.

To celebrate the Big Book of Orgasms Volume 2 release, I’m giving away an ebook of another anthology I was lucky to be a part of last year, Passionate Ink’s Falling Hard: Erotic Romance Anthology. If you haven’t read it, grab it now, since it’s only available for a limited time. All proceeds go to ProLiteracy, too! My story in Falling Hard is Hard Cider Crush, a gay second chance romance full of all the autumn charm of New England and more heat than July in Florida.

Enter below to win an Amazon ebook copy of Falling Hard—U.S. only, 18+. Giveaway will last from February 9^th—11^th and a random entrant will be drawn on February 12^th to win and receive a copy. (Delilah Devlin isn’t associated with this giveaway.)

 

Question: Tell me about the best book you’ve read recently in one sentence. Or tell me where you’d love to see a romance set!

About the Author

Ryley Banks writes award-winning bestselling sexy romance between the covers, mostly of the LGBTQ+ variety. She’s a connoisseur of tea and gin and loves language, especially creative profanity. When she’s not begging her characters to behave or reading fan fiction, you can find Ryley at: https://ryleybanks.com/ and everywhere at: https://linktr.ee/ryleybanks

Enjoy getting to know Ryley? Then you’ll love her monthly VIP newsletter! Sign up for access to free books, giveaways, sales, and exclusive member extras! https://ryleybanks.com/ryleys-vip-newsletter/

Contest

a Rafflecopter giveaway

I’m thrilled to be on Delilah’s blog today. I loved working with her on the latest Boys Behaving Badly anthology – COWBOYS. Writing my story, THE SCOUNDREL, reawakened my love of writing short stories, and I plan to continue writing short as well as the full novels I write for Entangled Publishing, and the series I self-publish.

Early in my career, I wrote a lot of erotic romances. It was ground-breaking back then (God, I feel so old!) and this was long before Fifty Shades. I’m not kidding when I say discovering erotic romance changed my life. I grew up a “good” girl in a rural area. Before the internet, before erotic romance, I didn’t know other women had sexual fantasies. I didn’t know it was okay to fantasize about blindfolds and handcuffs, or of being scared and aroused at the same time, or that pain and pleasure could be two sides of the same coin. I didn’t know it was okay to dream about sexual situations I’d never want to find myself in. Or that it was okay to dream about some I might want to.

I’m sure as Delilah’s readers, you know all about erotic romance and sexual fantasies, and it’s probably hard to imagine there was a time when you had to get your kicks from magazines like Playboy and Playgirl (and you had to gather enough courage to go up to the man at the register and ask for copies that were kept behind the counter) or maybe you could find erotica books like The Story of O or Anne Rice’s Beauty series, but I never read them until I could get them over the internet. But once I could buy an eBook in the privacy of my own home, it was a revelation. Suddenly, I wasn’t ashamed to explore my fictional fantasies, and I felt free to act on some of them, and I could even begin to write my own (believe it or not, it was a struggle for me to even type words like “cock” and “pussy” when I first started.)

I didn’t intend this post to be a history lesson, but just to explain that I will forever be grateful for the authors of erotic romance, and while I don’t focus my writing exclusively in that direction anymore, I will never stop writing it, never stop sharing my fantasies for other women to enjoy. And that is a long, and hopefully thought-provoking lead-in, to my newest release, one of 69 erotic shorts included in Cleis Press’s The Big Book of Orgasms, Volume 2, releasing on February 8^th, and available for pre-order now.

Publisher’s Weekly said “… 69 bite-size stories ideal for a quick, sensual break. Myriad settings—including alien planets, bathrooms, and sex parties—genres, kinks, and sexualities offer a little something for every erotica lover. Standouts include Natasha Moore’s “A Perfect Match,” about a husband who likes to watch his wife with her lover…” My first PW mention! And tons of sexual fantasies to explore.

Contest

Thanks to Delilah for inviting me to share with you today. I’m giving away one digital copy of one of my earlier erotic romance series, Paolo’s Playhouse. Five novellas in one collection that let readers explore several different fantasies.

Comment below for a chance at the giveaway. I’d love to know if you think erotic romance is getting commonplace now. Are readers tiring of it? Do you get enough of the sexy stuff in your other reading? Or do you still look for those stories that focus on sexual fantasies and, through them, give women freedom and power?

Natasha M.

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My name is Raisa Greywood. I write contemporary romance. I waver back and forth between dark and comedy, but hey, life is too short to pick just one! I also write paranormal romance under the pen name Minette Moreau.🐉

A question I’m often asked is, “How/why did you start writing?”

I don’t think I’m unique—every author has been asked this at some point in their careers, and probably more than once. The answers are as individual as the authors.

The how is easy—and incredibly difficult at the same time. One simply parks their backside in a chair and…

Wait! You mean there are grammar rules? What the heck is past perfect and why do I need it? Character development? Plot? Story structure?

Aaaah!

Here’s a Raisa fun fact. Until I was somewhere around fifty years old, I thought the past perfect verb tense was a joke created by my middle school English teacher to torment me.

The why is a bit more muddled. I was teaching high school math at the time, after a long career using numbers in another field. My last formal English class was sometime during the Regan administration. I’ve always been an avid reader though. Romance, fantasy, science fiction, horror… If it was printed between two pieces of card stock, I’d likely read it.

Yep, I was the kid who read cereal boxes.

I remember being delighted beyond words when my father brought home a whole set of very cheaply printed Nancy Drew mysteries from one of his business trips. Those books went from Maryland, to Germany, to Hawaii, and finally to Ohio. Unfortunately, after so much time and so many moves, I’ve lost track of them.

As I got older, my tastes changed, and it became harder to find books that truly resonated with me. When I first started writing, I was a year away from being an empty-nester, and I had my very own happy-ever-after with my amazing husband. More on him later.

Let’s face it. I wasn’t a twenty-something virgin. Heck, I wasn’t that woman when I got married. Even then, I was separated from that archetypal heroine by a decade of experience, relationships, and a career. This isn’t to say those heroines aren’t great, but they weren’t me.

Where was the mature bisexual woman who chose a geeky engineer for her knight in shining… coveralls?

I wanted realistic characters. People of color. LGBTQ+ people. People with scars, damage, histories, and rich backstory. I remember hearing someone say something along the lines of, “Only straight white people get a happy ending.”

Calling bullshit, honey.

I finally decided something along the lines of, “If nobody is writing the books I want to read, what’s stopping me from doing it myself?”

Cue the rabbit hole.

So… I wrote. My first attempts (note the plural there) were abysmal. One was a three-hundred-thousand-word behemoth that shall never see the light of day again. My second attempt is still one of my biggest regrets.

It was a Regency romance with an older heroine, and of course, a handsome duke. The heroine’s name was Miranda. She was wrongly convicted of theft, transported to Australia, and became quite a brilliant pirate before she found her true love. I adored her!

It was a wonderful story, but I lacked the skill to do it justice. I still think about dusting it off sometimes.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh, yes. Attempts. Plural. Every author has a collection of early work. We all look back on them with a mixture of fondness and horror, yet that is how we learn. We practice.

One of my dearest friends from high school convinced me to keep writing, telling me I was good. I, of course, didn’t believe her a bit.

But I kept at it.

And I got better.

I embraced the learning curve. Any skill worth doing is worth doing well.

Then I got good.

Someone commented on one of my books that she’d never laughed so much while reading a dark romance.

THAT is what I want. I want all the dark humor and scorching chemistry. It was as if my skills had finally gotten good enough to communicate my vision.

I’m a USA Today bestseller now. Remember my husband? My knight in shining coveralls? Well, he’s supported me at every step. When his parents threw me shade, he backed me up.

When they said, “It’s a phase,” he said, “Buy a fucking USA Today. My wife is in it.”

I love that man so hard. He’s the reason I do enemies-to-lovers so well. We hated each other in college. I’d like to say I fell in love with him because he’s got romance novel equipment in tight boxer briefs, but it’s really because he’s truly amazing. He’s the man who shovels snow for an elderly neighbor and won’t take money for it and spends twenty years helping with a Cub Scout pack—even though we don’t have boys.

In fact, my first published work was a joke, written for him. He loves space opera, so I wrote him one. He was impatient though and was forever bugging me for just one more chapter.

So, I gave him one.

Our house is two stories with a finished basement. When he got to the end of what I’d written, in which the heroine had faked her own death, I could hear him yell from the upper floor. He now mutters darkly about never reading another living author again.

In any case, my mother-in-law now introduces me to people. “This is my daughter-in-law, Raisa. She writes dirty books.”

I thought her caregiver was going to lose her shit.

Meanwhile, my dear friend—the one who has encouraged me all along—is still writing but is struggling. She received crushing critique from someone who isn’t her audience and doesn’t read her genre.

It’s my turn to encourage her now because I absolutely refuse to let her give up.

So many people have helped me, and the authors I once fangirled over are some of my dearest friends. In fact, Delilah Devlin—the host of this blog—is one of them.

Well, she’s one of the authors I fangirl over. Considering I just got up the nerve to send her a Facebook friend request, I’m not about to be cheeky enough to call her a friend. She’s definitely a colleague though, which is totally cool by itself.

Give me time. Delilah doesn’t know about my seriously epic bar or my selection of yummy snacks yet. I’ll have her in my clutches soon!

Yes, authors are easily bribed with food and booze.

Anyway, I digress. Quite a lot actually.

I digress so much, I had to create a second pen name because I’m constitutionally incapable of being just Raisa.

Raisa writes steamy contemporary BDSM. Minette Moreau writes steamy paranormal. But you know what? No matter who is writing the story, you can guarantee the characters are going to be snarky, sexy, and will love as deeply and as powerfully as they fight.

I’m busy with a literal crapton of projects, but if you want to catch up with me at all the usual places, find your favorite at this convenient Linktree: https://linktr.ee/RaisaGreywood.

Thanks to Delilah for inviting me to her blog, and especially special thanks to everyone who reads.