First Kisses

One of my favourite parts to write in any story is that all-important first kiss. This is the moment—at least for me—where the relationship changes from an idea and an emotion to that first step towards physical intimacy. Depending on the story, we may go a lot further than a kiss, or we may not.  But that kiss is chemistry in action, when all the senses are on high alert.

Each kiss is different because each character is different. Therefore the emotions are different and as we know it’s not just the actual kiss that counts but how it feels to the character emotionally.

I wasn’t sure how it was all going to go in my current release, actually. Clara Ferguson is a former victim of abuse so physical contact is a real challenge for her. I knew that Ty had to be gentle so she wasn’t physically overwhelmed. At the same time, I wanted it to be fan-flipping-tastic. For both of them. I wanted it to be romantic and the stepping stone into the next step of their relationship.

Here’s a sneak peek at that kiss:

They were nearly to the door now and it seemed every nerve ending Clara possessed was on high alert. She was interested in Ty. She thought about him far too often and she was way too aware of him. But that wasn’t the same thing as being interested in a relationship. They were two very different things. Attraction was momentary. Relationships represented a commitment too scary to even really comprehend.

But it didn’t stop the tingling sensations she felt as his arm brushed hers, sliding the barn door a few feet to the side, letting in a chilly puff of air.

“The moon’s bright tonight,” Ty murmured. His body blocked the door part way; there was no way she could slip through the gap without brushing against him. She swiped her tongue over her lips that seemed suddenly dry.

“It was full two nights ago,” she replied, closing her eyes briefly as she realized how breathy she sounded.

“But cloudy.” Ty still didn’t move. He pointed upwards. “Look. It’s so clear the stars go on forever. The unending sky is my favourite thing about the prairies.”

She moved forward a bit but her view was blocked by the breadth of Ty’s chest. He slid back against the heavy wood frame of the doorway, making room for her to peer through.

The sky was enormous and stunning, full of twinkling stars and the steady, watchful gaze of planets. A cloud of breath frosted the view for a moment as she tilted her head up to watch a satellite cross the sky in a steady, perfect arc.

“What do you suppose it’s watching?” she whispered, pointing at the moving dot.

When Ty didn’t answer, she turned her head. He wasn’t watching the stars at all. Instead he was looking at her. He wasn’t smiling. But there was something about him that made her forget the fall air and made her warm all over.

“Look at the stars,” she chided softly. “They’re beautiful.”

“No more beautiful than you.”

Her breath caught in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Why did you really come out here tonight?”

She couldn’t answer. Instead she bit down on her lip as she stayed suspended in the delicious sensation of being the sole focus of Ty’s attention.

He lifted his hand and rested it on the side of her neck while his thumb brushed the curve of her jaw. Breathing was torturous now as Ty’s face seemed to come closer. His eyes were open – those gloriously velvet eyes with gold flecks dancing around his pupils. The cotton of his shirt touched the knit of her sweater as their bodies drifted closer.

But Clara was totally lost when he raised his other hand and cradled her face in his palms, like he was holding something precious and fragile. There was no fear here. No hesitation. There was no darkness, only light.

“Clara,” he murmured, and he shifted his head the tiniest bit, closing the remaining gap and touching his lips to hers.

Her lips drifted closed as the sensation rippled through her. His lips were soft and gently persuasive. Instinctively hers parted beneath his, willingly yet carefully tasting what he was offering. What she discovered was sweetness. She hadn’t expected sweetness from a man like Ty.

His hands moved from her face to cup her neck, his fingers tangling with her hair, moving through her curls but demanding nothing. All her preconceptions drifted away on the night air. He was the Cadence Creek bad boy. She’d expected him to take. But he wasn’t. He was giving, instead, and she rested a trembling hand on his chest for balance as she tilted her head and leaned into the kiss.

He was a solid wall of muscle and man; steady and strong. As she slid her hand up to his shoulder the kiss deepened, losing a touch of its sweetness and replacing it with a wildness that was a promise of what lay ahead. It was an urgency that was somehow unrushed – an acknowledgement of the flare of passion without the need to let it burn out.

It was the most incredible kiss she’d ever experienced.

Ty broke away first, resting his forehead against hers for a few seconds. His breath fanned her cheek in small gasps and she felt the accelerated rise and fall of his chest and shoulders beneath her fingers.

The last thing she expected to see when she pulled back and looked into his face was concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t mean to push. To rush you. I…”

Emotion rushed through her veins – relief and gratitude and affection and awe. She stood on her tiptoes and put her arms around his neck, drawing him into a hug.

“Hey,” he soothed, but he didn’t push her away. He looped his arms around her back and rubbed the base of her spine. “It’s okay. Right?” His breath was warm on her hair. “Should I have asked first?”

He sounded so unsure. It was a revelation and a smile blossomed on her lips.  She nodded against his neck. “It’s okay,” she said, the words muffled but discernible. He tightened his arms around her and she wanted to weep with the wonder of it. It was more than a kiss between them. He knew. He understood.

Today I’m giving away a kindle copy of THE REBEL RANCHER to one lucky commenter! All you have to do is tell me about a favourite first kiss – real or fictional!

Seeds of Inspiration

First, let me take a moment to thank Ms. Delilah Devlin for inviting me to guest post on her blog. I cannot express enough my gratitude for her selfless support for those of us striving to amp up our writing successes. You’ve made all the difference, Delilah, and you are much appreciated.

Now, what I thought I’d talk about today are those triggers that spark our story ideas. So many times readers express their amazement on how writers come up with all these great story ideas.

I’m not sure why it baffles them so much. You’d think real life wasn’t strange enough to provide an endless stream of ideas. Really?

Anyway, I thought I’d throw a few of mine out there, and then maybe you could add some of yours. If nothing else, it should be entertaining. If we’re lucky, this conversation will spark something in those of us searching for our next great seedling.

My current WIP began when I watched a Sunday afternoon Lifetime Network Movie about a girl who pretended to be pregnant for a school project. Lately, the notion of broken couples reuniting has been a burning theme in my soul. Thus, Parent Project is born. This one’s still in the early stage, but you can probably imagine where I’m going with it.

Shaken Vows merely began with a brief conversation between our hunky sheriff and my husband at the gas pump while I sat in the truck observing, and conjured up all kinds of possibilities.

On another occasion, for hours I stared at a white page on a pathetically blank screen. Nothing seemed to be working that day. So, I thought about the books I’ve read, and what made the exceptional ones memorable. Searching through my bookcase, I pulled out a novel that I remember had brought me great joy. This was when they used paper with the printed words on the pages. Ancient, I know.

The scene opened with the hero walking in on his fiancé in bed with another. So, sparked Reckless Dreams. Of course, it’s my own story, with a completely different plot, but the seed came from one of my favorite novels.

Then, of course, we had a fire next door. A boatload of hunky firefighters, cops, and other officials came to the scene. Before the embers burned down, Familiar Flames began germinating.

That’s enough about me, and mine. How about letting us know what sparks your ideas. Who knows, it could boost those creative juices in all of us.

Hope you enjoyed my post, and I look forward to hearing what you think.

Thanks again, Delilah, for having me. It’s great being part of your circle of friends!

Please come visit me anytime at my place. I would love to have you:

Joyce
http://joycepalmer.net

Thanks to Delilah for inviting me here today. I admire her so much. She not only writes a lot of books, she writes damn good books.

I just started a new series, Miracle Interrupted, and the first story, MUST WORSHIP CATS, is a novella that introduces the village of Miracle, Wisconsin, with a population of 629. Some of the quirky people of the town are introduced as well. It’s all in a cat’s point of view, so there are no sex scenes. But in the next story…

STARDUST MIRACLE is a contemporary with magical elements. There are a few sex scenes on the tamer side, but at one time I called it ‘the penis book,’ because I used the term so often. The frequent use of the word wasn’t on purpose. It just came up. (Pun intended.) It starts when the heroine, Becky, catches her minister husband with another woman.

I just counted and I used ‘penis’ 12 times and ‘erection’ 5 times. I’d changed some of the ‘penis’ mentions to ‘erection’ during a revision, because I really don’t want everyone to think of it as ‘the penis book.’ I’d much rather them think of it as the book they loved and can’t wait to read the next story in the series (which will be out in July).

Here’s an excerpt from STARDUST MIRACLE that shows the first ‘penis’ scene after Becky bursts into her husband’s office at church, with the intention to surprise her husband:

Sitting on his couch, wearing only his white shirt, Jim stared at her as if she were his worst nightmare. So did Diana Kellman, who wore nothing, her brunette head lifting from his lap. Her fingers wrapped around his erect penis.

Becky put her hand over her mouth. She wanted to puke. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. But all she could do was stand there, a long, low moan ripping out of her throat. The sound of an animal in pain.

“Becky.” Jim put his open hand on Diana’s head and shoved her away from him. Diana fell on her butt on the gray and blue striped rug that Becky had found for Jim four years ago at an estate sale in Wausau. Diana squealed as Jim grabbed his pants and stood.

“It’s not what it seems.” Jim held his pants over his penis. As if Becky hadn’t seen it before.

Becky welcomed a hot rush of whirling anger. No, not anger. Fury. She took a deep, shuddering breath. The excitement was gone. The moan gone. The feeling that she’d been stabbed in the heart… Gone.

“You mean you weren’t getting a blow job?” she asked, and her voice only shook a little. She glanced at Diana, who was scrambling to her feet. Becky turned her head away and spotted Jim’s cell phone on his walnut desk. Instead of running out of the office, she crossed to the desk.

“Please, Becky,” Jim said. “We can talk.”

She heard the clink of his belt and without even thinking, as if something from above guided her, she picked up the cell phone, clicked on the camera, and whipped around, holding the phone like a weapon.

“Becky, no!” Jim shouted, one foot raised to put inside his pants leg, his penis not erect anymore but not completely flaccid, hanging in a curve like a tired rubber hose.

Diana was bent over, reaching for her panties, her butt toward Becky, but at Jim’s shout she glanced behind her.

Becky snapped the camera.

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. I’m curious. What would you do if you walked in on a scene like this?

One commenter will win a digital copy of STARDUST MIRACLE.

Edie Ramer
http://edieramer.com

Evelyn is the winner of the free download. I’ve sent Kathleen her email address!
Thanks everyone for playing! ~DD

LET’S TALK CHOCOLATE

Delilah, thanks so much for inviting me to stop by your blog today. I’m excited to be here! I think we all agree that it goes without saying that Delilah is a master (mistress?) when it comes to erotic romance. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about myself. I concentrate on Women’s Fiction, and you’ll find my books much tamer than Delilah’s. In fact, I only recently lost my virginity (when it comes to blog-writing, that is!).

Fatty Patty is my debut novel, released on May 15^th. Patty Perreault is the overweight heroine whose childhood nickname was Fatty Patty. Though she’s now an adult, Patty still remembers the cruel childhood taunts from the very same school playground where she’s now a teacher. The novel deals with Patty’s struggle to confront her self-esteem issues, put down the fork and give her heart a try. But poor Patty has a real problem with food… specifically, chocolate.

So, let’s talk chocolate. It’s like a wonder drug, a magic elixir that tastes great. Chocolate soothes. Chocolate calms. And chocolate can also magically add an extra layer of fat to your thighs overnight. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. When I was in high school, I weighed 300 lbs. People back then said ‘You carry it well’, but I suppose that’s because I’m 5’11” and the pounds were spread over a larger frame. But facts are facts, and the fact is that for years, I wore size 28+ pants. I lost the extra pounds more than thirty years ago, and now easily fit into a size 10. How did I do it? I loved chocolate so much, I decided I’d be better off if I gave it up for good. But it wasn’t easy saying goodbye to one of my favorite foods. According to my research, chocolate is the number one food American women crave. Chocolate stimulates endorphin production, triggering happiness and pleasure. It also contains serotonin (an anti-depressant), theobromine and caffeine (stimulants), plus it’s loaded with antioxidants (protecting against aging).

Here’s a little excerpt describing some of Patty’s inner turmoil when it comes to dealing with chocolate.

EXCERPT FROM FATTY PATTY:

I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs. If chocolate is like a drug, I probably qualify for Chocoholics Anonymous. But first, I’d have to be willing to give it up. Which I’m not. I’m not an addict. Besides, everyone deserves a treat now and then. And I’ve been good for so long—how many days now?— and I’ve only lost four pounds.

Tyler offering me that cookie on the playground earlier this morning started the ball rolling. All day long, I couldn’t let go of the thought of chocolate. And instead of hitting the pool on my way home from school, I detoured to an out-of-the-way party store on the other side of town where I grabbed a six-pack of my favorite candy bars. Why? There’s got to be a reason. But at the time, I didn’t want to think about the why. I didn’t want to think, period.

I just wanted the chocolate.

The first candy bar was gone as soon as I hit the car, before I even fastened my seatbelt. I barely tasted it as it slid down my throat and it only whetted my appetite for more. I ripped into the lush caramel and rich dark chocolate of the second one as I nosed the car out of the parking lot. I gnawed through the third wrapper with my teeth as I pulled into traffic.

And now that Priscilla’s finally off to bed, the other three are waiting.

I creep up the stairs, school bag in hand, and slip through my bedroom door. I throw the lock, then flop on the bed in the darkness. Moonlight filtering through the window is my only witness as I peel the wrapper off the fourth candy bar, settle back in the pillows and savor the lush sweetness filling my mouth. I’ve deprived myself far too long. The second gooey bite is even better than the first. Chocolate bliss. I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Polishing off the fifth candy bar takes a little longer. The craving is gone and I force myself to finish. I’m in no rush to unwrap the sixth candy bar. My stomach feels queasy. Maybe it would be better to stash it somewhere and save it for later. But if I don’t eat it now, that one last candy bar will be staring me in the face tomorrow morning… a big gooey reminder of what I’ve done. I rip off the wrapper and stare at the chocolate. Tomorrow, I promise myself. Starting tomorrow, I’ll put myself on a brand new diet. Starting with breakfast.

Food. Ugh. My stomach lurches and I drop the candy bar. My breath reeks of chocolate and I stumble into the tiny bathroom off my bedroom. I use my toothbrush like a weapon, attacking the enemy sugar on my teeth, scrubbing away the contraband. I swish water back and forth under my tongue, around my teeth, spit it in the sink. Somehow I find the courage to face myself in the mirror. It’s not a pretty picture. Hollow, bloodshot eyes; mascara staining my face. I don’t recognize this person.

What is wrong with me? Why in God’s name did I do this? What happened to my resolve? What happened to my dreams of being thin?

What would Nick think if he saw me like this?

No more chocolate. Never again.
Read the rest of this entry »

Many years ago, my family went on a ski vacation to Breckenridge, Colorado. Between Denver and Breckenridge is a small town by the name of Idaho Springs. There’s not much there and it’s perched on a steep hillside, but the history of the town fascinated me. It’s an old gold mining town where miners came to sell their gold, bed a whore (women were scarce), and buy supplies they’d carry back up in the mountains.

In 2010, my husband, daughter and I returned to the gold mining hills of Colorado for a four-wheeling trip through the old gold mining ghost towns up around Silverton, Colorado. So many abandoned towns and mines dot the hillsides. It’s amazing. If you haven’t been, put it on your bucket list, it’s a must.

In the BOUND AND TIED print anthology releasing June 1 at Samhain Publishing, my stories HONOR BOUND and DUTY BOUND are based around Idaho Springs in the 1860’s when the gold rush was in full swing. The third story in the series takes one of the characters back east to another romantic historical place that has fascinated me all my life…the Mississippi River during the era of steamboat transportation.

The stories were fun, the characters funny, sexy and heroic. I hope you enjoy reading about them as much as I enjoyed writing them.

BOUND AND TIED

by Myla Jackson

They say bad luck comes in threes. Love just might prove “they” are wrong.

Honor Bound
On the run from an Indian captor, Honor is hungry and desperate. Yet when she stumbles upon two men touching each other in a scandalous way, she’s mesmerized—and aroused.

Gold prospectors Zach and Jake can think of only one way to silence the panicked little thief’s babbling. Kiss her senseless. Then show her that pleasure isn’t necessarily the devil’s work.

Duty Bound
Desperate, KC appeals to a sensual stranger, Rosalyn, to teach her the womanly skills to make a deal with the devil. AKA Jake—the man who holds the marker on her family’s ranch.

Jake has a better idea: her for the ranch. Then reality sets in, leaving him saddled with a mail-order bride, a deflowered virgin, and an unexpected desire to make things right with KC…forever.

River Bound
When Rosalyn steps aboard the Marie-Dearie, she unexpectedly meets James, notorious bounty hunter and old lover…who’s only too happy to help her find her murdering, thieving fiancé.

Convincing James he’s innocent is easier for Dalton than winning Rosalyn back, because she seems to be enjoying the competition for her affections a little too much. There’s only one place to work out this dilemma. In bed.

Product Warnings
 This title contains hot ménage a trois scenes, man love, bondage, females out to settle a debt right proper, a woman with bordello-bawdy desires, and a whole lot of lovin’!

Samhain

Amazon

 

About the Author

The YOUNGER sister of the queen of the sex scene, DELILAH DEVLIN, the equally stupendous MYLA JACKSON pens wildly sexy adventures of all genres including historical westerns, medieval tales, romantic suspense, contemporary romance and paranormals with beasties of all shapes and sizes. When not wrangling words from her computer with the help of her canine muses, she’s snow-skiing, boating or riding her ATV. To learn more about Myla Jackson and her stories visit her website at www.mylajackson.com. Also see Myla’s romantic suspense alter ego Elle James at www. ellejames.com 

Disrupted Schedules and Kitty Alarms

This week is a killer. I’m trying to finish a book with my deadline looming, and I have so much other stuff to do. It’s frustrating. A lot of my time revolves around taking my ninety-year-old mother to her doctor appointments, to get her hair done, etc. I don’t mind; I love the time we spend together, and I’m thankful for it. Except it doesn’t allow me enough time to write.

Disrupted schedules are the bane of a writer’s existence. I love having big arcs of time so I can dig deep into my story and get into a rhythm, but then I have to stop and take my mom to the eye doctor or her dentist or maybe even keep my granddaughter for a couple of hours. The next day is what I call “hair day”, that lovely weekly appointment marked for my mother’s beauty salon appointment from now until eternity. Hair appointments are non-negotiable. At least I can take my laptop with me and write in the back of the shop while she’s getting beautiful. Then the next day…

You see how it goes. And then there’s the lack of sleep caused by my furry little friends. My sweet, innocent, unassuming little feline pals. The three wicked, crafty little minxes that wake me up an hour before my alarm goes off — usually by playing with the window blinds — because they either want to go outside or they need water or food. Seriously, who needs to eat at four a.m.? I do love those cats, I really do… but their kitty alarm clocks need to be reset and I haven’t figured out how to do that yet.

What about you? How do you cope with disrupted schedules? I carve minutes out of all the busy days, minutes in which I can at least jot down a few plot points or make character notes. I’m interested to find out what you do about time management… and if you, too, have an annoying little kitty alarm clock.

Somehow, amid the chaos, I do manage to find time write. My genre of choice is romantic suspense with hot cops and big guns. Please check out my latest ebook release from Desert Breeze Publishing, DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL, the fourth book in my Keller County Cops series. In this book, Tessa Doucet studied mortuary science because the dead can’t hurt her. Then a monster from her past turns up on her embalming table, and she’s forced to confront the demon she thought she’d put to rest. Disturbed by the case Tessa stirs up, Detective Cash Starkey finds himself falling for her, even though he swore to keep his distance. He doesn’t want a relationship, especially not with a woman running from her past. Yet when Tessa’s life is threatened, he runs into the fray, and together they defeat her demons and put the past behind them.

Buy link:  http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-301/Keller-County-Cops-Book/Detail.bok

Also… hope you’ll check out my new free author apps for the iPhone, the iPad, and most Android devices available now in the iTunes store and the Android market. Such an easy way for my readers to keep up with all my books, connect with my social networking sites, and get updates on new titles and where I’ll be signing. I’m really jazzed about this!

And please look for these upcoming titles from Desert Breeze later this year:

Emily’s Nightmare — August
Haunted Memories — October
KKC Book Five: Written in Blood — December

Website:  http://www.melanieatkins.com
Blog: http://melanieatkins.wordpress.com
Facebook:  http://www.face-book.com/melanie.atkins
Twitter:  http://twitter.com/melanie_atkins

Today’s the last day to enter the New Dragon Cup contest!
Click on the link for the entry rules! ~DD

Why A Ménage

First let me thank Delilah for hosting me on her blog today. I might get a little deep because it’s been that kind of a week.

Have you ever had a fantasy? Men and women are different. They have different kinds of fantasies. To be perfectly honest, women are different—they have different kinds of fantasies. So have you ever had a fantasy?  Do you fantasize that you’re famous? Or maybe that you’re the go to girl or go to guy for someone who is famous? Do you want to be a sports star? Do you have to have Josh Hamilton’s batting record? Do you have a fantasy to be a rock star or actor or let’s just get down to brass tacks, do you just fantasize that you’re rich?

Fantasies are important because fantasies are goals. They provide us with an innate sense of reaching for more than who we are or who we want to be.  Sometimes they are simply escapes. An escape from our ho-hum life and too many errands and schedules and bills and frankly, who doesn’t want to fantasize their way out of the long lines at the grocery store on a weekend when you’d rather be sleeping in?

So if “those” kinds of fantasies are healthy, what about sexual fantasies?  Aren’t they healthy, too?

Not if you’re a woman…

There seems to be a common misconception in our culture that women shouldn’t have sexual fantasies. I mean there are booty and booby magazines by the hundreds, half-naked women on cars for men to lust after so they will go and shop for that vehicle and more—because retail and Hollywood figured out a long time ago that sex sells. But that’s okay, because it sells to men.

Then along comes a little book call 50 Shades of Grey and suddenly “Mommy porn” is born and it’s astounding just how many readers gobbled it up. It became the numbers 1, 2, 3 best sellers (with its two sequels) in weeks. It blew the top of this frothing pit of sexual fantasy for women from college co-eds to soccer moms to silver-haired grandmas and I know for a fact at least one great-grandma in a wheelchair.

As a romance reader for more than three decades and an author, was I shocked by this? Of course not, what is a romance novel but a variant of a sexual fantasy? What is the BDSM sub-genre but a sexual fantasy? What about a ménage?

But you’re not supposed to talk about it…

It’s 2012 and we’re not supposed to talk about liking sex. Apparently according to some people, we’re not supposed to talk about sex at all. Some people believe that if you add enough sex to a story it will sell no matter how good that story is and some believe that if sex isn’t an extension of an organic relationship between the characters (whether it’s an MF, MFM, MMFM, MMF, or MFMMMMM – yes ladies, those books do exist) then it’s just porn written to sell.

Wanna know a secret?

It doesn’t matter.  It really doesn’t. I promise you that two years ago, I used to say “I can’t write sex scenes.”  It wasn’t a matter that I couldn’t write them, I was just embarrassed by it.  Yes, embarrassed.  Like so many women I felt that if I said I “liked” to write sex scenes or that I wanted to write them, it should only be said quietly to those people who knew me very well and who would, of course, keep it private.

Because we’re really not suppose to like sex or talk about it.

When I was little, my grandmother always edited the sex scenes when she read her Harlequins to me and that makes sense, because seriously – who is going to read sex to a kid? Exactly – really creepy people. But for years, she referred to it as “cleaning” or “taking a nap.”  Even when I was an adult, she wouldn’t say the word sex – but I guarantee you that the books she was reading had loads of it in there.

We’re embarrassed by this because we’ve been told that in our society it’s not okay to like sex. I mean, you can, but only if you keep it to yourself.

I think I’m tired of keeping it to myself. I like sex. I like to read good sex scenes and I like to write them. I recently released a book in February called Cassandra’s Dilemma that featured a polyamorous relationship. I wasn’t really sure how that would go for me, but the characters refused to be anything else and I believe in going where my characters take me. But when it came to promoting it, I kind of choked a little—why?

Because it had sex and a lot of it.

I didn’t really think about that until recently when I finished Jacob’s Trial in edits and had it queued up for its release date. It’s the second book in the series after Cassandra’s Dilemma and it has sex – lots of sex in it. And you know what. I am thrilled about this book and I don’t feel any of those twinges that I felt with Cassandra’s Dilemma. In part because I realized that even though I’ve never been particularly shy about the subject, I was still trying to look at myself through the lens of a conservative culture that frowns and labels books with open sexuality “mommy porn.”

Why a ménage?

I started off calling this blog why a ménage and I’m going to answer this right now. Because it’s a great sexual fantasy to imagine two, alpha males who care about you so much that they put aside some of that innate, biological competitiveness to be with you emotionally, mentally and yes, sexually.  The physical intimacy in a ménage is just the tip of the iceberg, but it’s a healthy fantasy and I loved writing Jacob, Cassie, and Helcyon’s journey to finding each other and finding a balance in that relationship.

Are sexual fantasies worth it? Absolutely. Because a sexual fantasy is all about you and that’s why we like to read books that explore the fantasies we might have and why many authors like to write them. Your fantasy is healthy, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

I like sex. I hope you do, too.  Because sex feels good and sexual fantasies should, too. Without our fantasies, life would be pretty dull.

I’d love for you to leave a comment on anything you feel like saying on the subject. I’m not going to ask you if you have sexual fantasies or what they are, but I will give away one copy of Jacob’s Trial to one lucky commentator and I’ll announce that here in the comments on Thursday, June 7!