Beware the Bunnies!

Authors are a bizarre breed. We can get away with talking to invisible people, arguing with them, and threatening them with grave bodily harm (or worse) when they get too cocky. (Of course, we rarely ever win said arguments.) And to think: no one comes along with friends in pretty white coats! (Well, they haven’t found me yet, anyway.)

Then…there are the plot bunnies: those evil, twisted, corrupted, insidious, little nuggets of “Ooooo….” that plant themselves in our poor, overworked brains. Is it any wonder why we talk to invisible people?

You see, most folks would think such things would be wonderful and lovely, that it would be marvelous to have these seemingly-nonstop ideas just flowing carefree through their minds. *snorts* Have you wondered why these things are called plot “bunnies”?

One idea is not enough. Oh, no.

The plot vermin (think: Night of the Lepus, people–seriously) breed uncontrolled, unchecked. We (the vic–er, authors) are powerless to stop them. So we eventually give in and listen. We make notes, research, might even start writing. Then… BAM! Another evil hare is born! This new one is sparkly and pretty and, ohhh… it would be amazing if we…

Do you see where this is going? It’s terrifying, I tell you.

Facebook has become a prime breeding ground for these things. Friends post pics (usually of hot, sexy men–you folks know who you are!), then the bunnies start humping each other like mad. Nevermind that there are deadlines and sequels and stories already set to go. The bunnies? They don’t care! They fuck like…well…bunnies, and before I know it, I’ve got a folder full of pretty men waiting for *their* story.

Why anyone would name such devious things after cute, cuddly creatures is beyond me. 😯

*****

What do online gaming, Spongebob, cooking, writing, and an unnatural addiction to Mountain Dew all have in common?

Not a damn thing, which is what makes Mychael Black an interesting bird indeed.

Born in north Alabama, Mychael now resides on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. Having run the gamut of labels in regard to gender and sexuality, Mychael now shuns society’s views on normality and embraces a poly-everything attitude. Call Mychael her or him—it doesn’t matter. Just keep reading the books.

http://www.mychaelblackbooks.com/

Venus versus Mars

That women and men are different isn’t a new idea.

Not only are we physically different, our minds work in different ways as well. Men and women often have a difference in sexual attitudes—though there are always exceptions to the rule! Men are more physical and are stimulated by things they can see and touch, whereas women rely on their emotions and a sense of connection with another person to turn them on (though a great body always helps!). The male and female brain even react differently to different erotic situations, with a man’s brain reacting more to visual stimuli and a woman’s brain reacts more to psychological simulation.

When writing erotic fiction, it’s important to consider who I’m writing that fiction for. Predominantly, I write fiction for women, but when I’m writing for a male audience, I approach things differently. When I write for men, I spend less time trying to create a connection that is any more than sexual, and more time on description. When I write erotica for women, for the most part I like to have a connection on another level between the male and female character (or even the male, male, and female, or female, female and male, and any other combinations you can think of!). I also like to have a ‘happy ever after’ or at least a ‘happy for now’ ending. For men, a chance encounter on purely a physical level is enough.

Recently, I received a review which made me smile. The reader actually questioned whether or not I was female because she’d read my short story collection Some Love it Hot! When I sat down to write this collection, it was alongside my first title Rescued. In my head, I knew I wanted to write one collection for female readers and another for men. Some Love it Hot! was my “male” collection and it was this title where someone had questioned my sex. That was a huge compliment to me. It meant I’d done my job right and achieved what I intended.

Strangely enough, even though I write predominantly for a female audience, Some Love it Hot is still one of my best-sellers.

My latest collection, Down in the Sand, although has some stories from a male view point, is definitely written for women. There have been few times in my life where I’ve felt sexier than when I’m on holiday. All that tanned skin, hot sun, and a couple of cocktails beside the pool. What in life could be better? It was this feeling of sexy relaxation that got me writing this collection. Keep reading for an excerpt of one of the stories, “Stopover.”

Cool lotion trickled onto her upper back, making her squirm. Moments later, his warm hands made contact with her skin, smoothing out the creamy fluid, rubbing the muscles of her shoulders and the back of her neck with firm strokes. The massage eased away the last of the tension from the long flight and Zara couldn’t help her whole body relaxing under his attention.

His strong fingers worked their way down, rubbing the muscles along either side of her spine, down to the dip of her lower back. He skirted the curve of her ass, his fingers going lower, slipping beneath the edge of her bikini bottoms.

Would he do it? She wondered. Would he have the nerve to try to go further, right here where numerous other people sunbathed and splashed in the pool? His body hid her mid-section from one side and there were only rocks on the other. While people might be able to see her head and shoulders, to anyone who might catch a glimpse of them, they simply looked like a guy applying sun lotion to a girl’s back. Read the rest of this entry »

Hi there! My name is Margery Scott and I write…pretty much everything. Historical western romances, time travels, contemporary romances, mainstream suspense, etc. The list goes on. I’ve even tried writing erotica, but it’s not my thing. I’d like to be able to write HOT, because I’d love to get a bit more steam into my books, but it comes off sounding more like an episode of I Love Lucy or The Three Stooges—not exactly the reaction I’m going for. My books do have sexual tension and chemistry between the hero and heroine, though, although the fantasies my characters have aren’t exactly XXX-rated.

Fantasies. Everybody has them, right? They don’t have to be sexual, they just have to be make-believe scenarios about situations and people that are so far removed from our real lives that the chances of them actually happening are a million to one—daydreams about what could be, what life would be like if…

Fantasies are perfectly normal and healthy. In the bedroom, as long as both partners are in agreement, anything goes. Outside the bedroom, in your own mind, whatever you want to dream up is perfectly okay.

In my latest release, The Next Victim, small-town reporter Shannon has a fantasy—she’s living in New York, she’s bigger than Barbara Walters, and she’s making a kazillion dollars every week. It’s her only fantasy—until Ben Carver, the new police chief, shows up. They lock horns, but even though she fights it, her fantasy is changing—and suddenly, Ben is the star.

Workaholic detective Ben Carver is convinced the next target of a serial killer is Shannon Ames, the sexy reporter who lives in his apartment complex. As he works to prevent her from becoming the next victim, he starts to feel emotions he’d long thought dead. But the secret Shannon carries could destroy any hope of a future together—and might even get her killed.

It’s not erotica, it’s not even particularly steamy, but although both Ben and Shannon have their reasons for fighting their attraction to each other, hormones and chemistry win out—and eventually give them their happy ending where their fantasies become reality.

Margery
Visit my website!

I’ll name the winner of Saturday’s free download tonight. So be sure to post! ~DD

Let’s Flirt!

Isn’t flirting fun? If you’re into romance, you certainly appreciate flirting.

Flirt – the word brings to mind fluttering eyelashes, sideways glances, fingertips gracing a creamy collarbone, pink tongue delicately peeking out from ruby lips, the hint of cleavage when she has to bend to retrieve her purse. Women know the art of subtle flirtatious body language.

But men can come up with some goose bump producing moves. In my novel, Sleeping with the Lights On, my heroine Sandra Holiday feels the rub of Carson’s boot against her ankle beneath the table and can’t be sure he’s purposely arousing her or keeping beat to a tune in his head.

Much flirting happens through verbal banter. We all know the words aren’t necessarily what makes a good flirt but the way they’re uttered; the double entendre, or combined with a wink or a smile.

Rachael, in Tattoos, Leather and Studs has two men flirting with her. She’s on a blind date with a man who looks like he might be a bad boy and the leader of the pack – and is sexy as you know what. On stage is the leader of the band that could pass for a GQ model. But looks can be deceiving. Tattooed date says things like, “your eyes, flecks of gold and green are amazing.” Sophisticated looking rock singer has a different approach. “Is it feeling any better, chicky?” He cast a leer at her chest. “Can I lend a hand?”

How about that first flirtatious utterance – the opening line, sometimes called the pickup line?

A friend of mine was at a country bar, scanning the crowd. A tall-blond-snake-skin-boots-tight-Levi-covered-buns-hunk drawled, “What you looking for?” When she responded, “Someone to sweep me off my feet,” he didn’t miss a beat. Swoosh!

This same friend has the best of luck with first lines. And what rings flirtatious in one country may not translate verbatim. When she met a sheik’s son at a jazz concert who told her she was prettier than all of his father’s wives, how could she refuse a date?

My favorite first line came from a guy at a public dance. He had the biggest brown eyes, thick dark lashes, and a smile that melted me. And then he said, “Hello, I love you. Would you like to dance?” Okay, a wee bit corny but it must have worked; we’ve been married now for over half our lives. After he spoke those words, the Doors had a hit single with nearly the same line. Maybe not so corny after all.

Tattoos, Leather and Studs

Rachael suspects her date, Jason, is a drug dealer, and she’s torn between her attraction for this hot bad boy and running for safety. But a famous rock star vying for her attention and spiked champagne pose far more trouble. On a blind date she’ll never forget, Rachael learns first impressions can lead her down a dangerous path and straight into the arms of love.

Tattoos, Leather and Studs ISBN: 978-1-61235-258-9

Sleeping with the Lights On

After two failed marriages and countless relationships, Sandra Holiday thinks she’s met the man to end her years of less than perfect choices; choices that not only derailed her travel-related career plans but also left her single and broke. 

Carson Holiday, a Las Vegas country crooner with swoon-inducing good looks, spent his adult life pursuing a recording contract and love, never holding on to either. After eighteen years, he drops back into Sandra’s life, reigniting an attraction he can’t deny.

When Carson reappears, Sandra must choose again.  Only this time, nothing’s as it seems.  A secret admirer, a redheaded stalker, and an eccentric millionaire throw her on a dangerous path, with Carson her only truth.

As life confronts her with yet another turning point, will her decisions find her eternally sleeping with the lights on – or will she finally discover a way to turn them off?

Sleeping with the Lights On ISBN: 1-60154-724-2               

Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com.
Or on FaceBook: www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/brendawhitesid2
She blogs on the 9^th and 24^th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com
She blogs about prairie life on her personal blog http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/

Remember, the Tater Red’s Grab Bag & Elvis Contest continues!
Be sure to comment to enter!

I have a brand spankin’ new release that I’m so excited about! It’s a cowboy erotic romance set in the old west called SADIE AND HER COWBOY!

I got the idea for the book when I was browsing the internet and came across a website about cattle drives back in the old west. In and of itself, not a very romantic topic, I admit, but it was cool reading about all the different jobs the people did and who was responsible for what. When I saw the old sepia photos of the cowboys back then, I didn’t see a hot, hunky one among them. I decided the cowboy in my book must have been taking the photo because he’s both hot and hunky! LOL!

Obviously, I couldn’t write a whole book about a cattle drive! Where’s the romance in that? But the cattle drive did give me a good idea—a woman owns a ranch and needs a hired gun to keep a local cattle baron from stealing it out from under her.

See, Sadie had to take over the ranch when her father was killed in a stampede. Now the vultures are descending, sure she won’t have the stomach to do what’s necessary to save her ranch.

But she’s tougher than anyone thinks—tough enough to bring in Jake Wagner, a man with a gun and reputation. Not to mention gorgeous. I needed to get some conflict going—just to make it more interesting—so as you can imagine, Sadie and Jake butt heads right from the moment she hires him. Of course, that leads to some spankings (and bondage!), which in turns lead to some very hot sex!

Happy Reading!

SADIE AND HER COWBOY

When a ruthless cattle baron is determined to do anything to get his hands on Sadie Buchanan’s ranch, she hires the infamous gunslinger Jake Wagner to protect her property.

Despite the fact that they butt heads right from the start, Sadie is helplessly drawn to the ruggedly handsome cowboy, even when he warms her bottom repeatedly for her willful and sometimes reckless behavior.

But all the cards are put on the table when Sadie bets the cattle baron that she, Jake and her small band of cowpokes can get more cattle to market than anyone in their right mind would attempt.

It’s all or nothing for Sadie, her ranch and the dangerous cowboy she’s fallen for hard.

Excerpt:

Jake was at the bar when Sadie walked in, a drink in his hand and a heavily made-up saloon girl on either side of him. The man was so interested in whatever the more buxom of the two women was whispering in his ear he didn’t notice Sadie march across the room to stand in front of him. She wrinkled her nose. Good gracious, he reeked of whiskey even from this distance.

The chatter in the saloon all but ceased. Even the piano player had stopped tinkling the keys.

The saloon girl who wasn’t attached to his ear gave her a haughty look. She had curly, dark hair and a beauty mark painted on her cheek. “Can we help you?”

Sadie folded her arms and returned the woman’s superior gaze with one of her own. “As a matter of fact, yes. You can start by taking your hands off him.”

She was surprised Jake heard her over the sweet nothings the big-breasted strumpet was cooing in his ear, but he jerked his head up at the sound of her voice.

The dark-haired saloon girl lifted a brow. “And who are you to tell us what to do? His wife?”

Read the rest of this entry »

The Seductive Allure of Fantasy

My name is Denise and I’m addicted to Fantasy.

There. I’ve said it.

Is there is nothing more exciting than exploring new worlds that either faintly resemble our own, as in Urban Fantasy, to worlds that defy everything we know to be real, as in High Fantasy? Characters whose lives are played out in settings that require skill sets we’ve only imagined. Worlds where possibilities are only restricted by the imagination or training of the inhabitants.

Escapism at its absolute best.

As a writer, and as a reader, I revel in seeing how the “normal” person deals with the unexpected and inexplicable. The wise reader, and writer, knows fantasy is not all sunshine and roses. Things are seldom as simple as they seem, everything can possess a double edge that could slice you to the heart as easily as it will bring you your heart’s desire.

And as a reader of fantasy, I adore writing it. Writing fantasy offers me so much freedom that contemporary writing doesn’t. Fantasy enables me to choose any of the mannerisms and mores from diverse cultures to create my own elegant worlds and societal structures. In my book, The Festival of the Flowers: The Courtesan and The Scholar, I selected pieces of cultures ranging from Mediaeval to Renaissance to Regency to create a world that would fit for my characters, a siren courtesan and a nobleman disgraced for choosing to become a scholar.

Fantasy also provides a plethora of archetypical character types and challenges. Mythological creatures with powers and forms beyond our ken. Sacred traditions that would hold their own against any of the most orthodox belief systems of our world. Challenges that teeter between world-destroying and soul-shattering. What’s not to love?

And then there’s magic. Ah, the sweet seductive lure of magic. Where wishes come true, what else could a person want? However, every good fantasy reveals that within every granted wish lies a price. Often, the lesson that nothing good comes without true effort and the things that come the easiest are often the costliest. Wish for wealth and you may lose a beloved relative. Wish for success and you may lose all contact with those you knew before. Wish for peace and you discover the utter boredom of a changeless existence. Wish for anything and you may find that the joy of attainment is far less than the thrill of achieving it through one’s own effort or growth.

Fantasy is my addiction and I hope to never be cured.

Temptation is her profession, seduction in her blood, but when a courtesan falls in love with an impoverished scholar, can she risk her heart and his life?

For a courtesan with siren’s blood, drawing men to her bed is as natural as breathing, but Lisara Hammett refuses to feel anything beyond the physical. A generations-old curse dooms the women of her bloodline to lose any man they love.

Reyst Andulon does not believe in superstition nor magical creatures—but he does believe he is not good enough for Lady Lisara. Lisara begs to differ, but must risk the pain of her family curse or lose Reyst forever.

Available from The Wild Rose Press 

Denise Golinowski has always been a writer. A hopeful romantic, she gravitated to fantasy and romance. Her enovella, The Festival of the Flowers: The Courtesan and The Scholar, was published September, 2010, by The Wild Rose Press. She has also had a number of short stories published, both in the Chesterfield Writers Anthologies and in online publications. Denise is a member of the Romance Writers of America, Virginia Romance Writers, James River Writers and Chesterfield Writers Club. Through these organizations and the support of three fantastic critique groups, RichWriters, Writers Endeavor, and Roses Critique Group, she continues to hone her craft.

A native of Richmond, Virginia, Denise lives with her uber-supportive husband and two less enthusiastic cats. She is currently working on a Contemporary Paranormal Suspense and more The Festival of the Flowers tales. You can find her on facebook at Denise Golinowski/Author.

Follow Denise on facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Denise-GolinowskiAuthor/127377770641256?ref=sgm

A big thank you to Delilah Devlin for hosting me on her blog. It’s an exciting day, as my new series, Hawaiian Heroes, debuted yesterday at Samhain Publishing.

This series is a new sub-genre for me. It’s still paranormal, and still red hot romance. But the story takes place in contemporary Hawaii, on the Big Island’s beautiful Kona coast.

Writing the story was noooo hardship. There were many cold, dark, rainy Pac NW days and evenings when I sat down at my computer and booted up Pandora Internet Radio with my personal Hawaiian station, and was instantly transported back to the warm, humid, flower-scented islands.

In fact, music can be an incredible mood enhancer. My personal soundtrack for writing the book includes such Hawaiian music greats as:

Keali’i Reichel  www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YPoL5-3kZ4
Israel Kamakawiwo’ole, better known as Iz www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkFZ75V27rs
The Brothers Cazimero www.youtube.com/watch?v=GO44V3W9ULw 
and my favorite, Hapa www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmmsuVi0gyk.

Listen to a few of these lovely melodies, and you’ll be so relaxed all you can do is call for another mai-tai. Or book tickets for the Islands!

But, not everyone can travel, I know. It’s a tough economy, and we have families to care for. I waited a long time to get back to these islands myself. And the visit from which we just returned will probably be our last for a while, as life takes me and my husband in new directions.

So, I concentrated on soaking up the soft, warm island ambience and researching locales for the second and third books in the Hawaiian Heroes series. If I use a real place in the books, it’s as true to life as I can make it. 

If you’ve been to Kona, look for some familiar places in Book II; Rolling in the Deep and Book III. And if you haven’t, come along with me and the Ho’omalu ohana, family. Let us introduce you to a place you can visit again and again, in the pages of the Hawaiian Heroes stories.

And here’s a link to the blurb, and an excerpt, just for you:
http://store.samhainpublishing.com/walking-fire-p-6743.html

Recipe for terror—take one Hawaiian hunk, light him on fire. Wake up to find all your dreams come true.

But instead, Malu invaded her dreams, as he had since that first night. It was the same dream as the one this afternoon, almost as if it hadn’t been interrupted by waking.

And this time, she went to him, as helpless to resist him as if she were bewitched. He stood framed by the mountain, glowing with that red-gold light. He wore a crown of leaves, but they were red with fire. So was the brief kapa cloth around his hips. Geckoes scampered around him like living sparks on the ground.

As she gazed at him in awe, he turned and held out his hand to her. His dark gaze, the sensuality in the slow smile he gave her were so compelling, her body reacted helplessly.
So aroused that she was breathing in ragged pants, Melia climbed the path to him. The geckoes scampered back, making way. Slowly, she reached out her hand, wanting desperately to lay it in his. But the heat that surrounded him became too much.

She hesitated, yearning to let his heat envelop her but afraid of the results. Would his passion burn her up, leaving her empty?

Melia woke with a gasp. She lay on her back in the bed, her heart pounding, desire twisting inside her. The dream had been so real.

Rain beat on the roof overhead, trickled down the gutters and splattered on the windowsills. But only on one side was she cool. Her other side was hot, uncomfortably so, as if she were too near a fire. And the heat was emanating from the man sleeping at her side.

Melia turned her head and stared. Her breath froze in her throat; her heart skipped a beat and then began to pound even faster. Was she still dreaming?

Malu still lay on his side, facing her. His eyes were closed, his face peaceful in slumber, his big body relaxed. And she could see all this clearly, because he was glowing.

She closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, willing it to be her imagination, a trick of the storm, of the Hawaiian night. But when she opened them again, it was the same. The night was dark, the rain blotting out any moonlight that might have strayed in the windows. The only light was the red-gold glow that shimmered not around, not over, but from Malu.

Slowly, clumsy with fear, Melia pushed back the blanket and began to inch away from him. She made it to the very edge of the bed, had one foot on the floor, when his eyes opened, and he looked at her. It was like gazing into the heart of dark fire.

“Damn,” he rumbled, his deep voice husky with sleep. “Didn’t mean to do that yet.”

 Aloha,

Cathryn