Paranormal Romantics

An author's "voice"!

2012-01-29T07:00:00.001-05:00

Happy Sunday! Today I’m going to chat about something that I’ve been wanting to blog about for a while now and that’s “voice”.

Before I was an author, I’d heard the term but didn’t really know what it meant. I suppose through the time I’ve been published—and it’s been drilled into my head of how important it is—I’ve taken a bigger notice to it.

Now I’m going to use two books as an example and I’m not going to name them because well…I just feel weird doing that. But it was two books that I’ve read recently. Both were outstanding stories, both well written and both had compelling plot lines.

But guess what? I only remember one of them.

So let’s talk about book #1 (the one I don’t remember). I know when I read book #1 that I really enjoyed it, but I could put it down and didn’t read late into the night. There wasn’t that itch to find out how the story resolved and it was more of a journey. I never had a moment where I stopped reading and thought “ugh, this is boring”. I actually really loved it. There was enough steam in the story that kept me happy, I really enjoyed the characters and I thought the plot was totally neat. But then why don’t I remember it?

Hmmm…good question!

Now onto book #2. This story grabbed me much the same as book #1. I loved everything about it and the characters were fantastic. But this was one of the stories that I cannot stop thinking about. I couldn’t stop reading and even when I put it down, all I wanted to do was go back and read more. I had a huge emotional connection to the characters and felt like I knew them…or at least, I wanted to. I read this book so fast because I was dying to know what happened, needed to spend more time with them, and this is definitely a re-read for me.

So what was the difference between book #1 and book #2? You got it—“voice”. It’s the authors way of telling a story. It wasn’t that anything in book #1 was bad. It was actually really good. But the author in book #2 had a voice that jumped off the page. I connected with her characters in a deeper way because of how she wrote them. It was in the way she set up her chapters and the situations she put her characters in. Her story was more “alive” for me because she had such a strong captivating voice.

It had nothing to do with the characters themselves because I loved book #1 characters just as much. And it wasn’t about the plot because I found them both intriguing. But it was the authors “voice” that grabbed hold and didn’t let me go. It sucked me right in and made me feel like I was somehow a part of the story. I got excited when the characters did, sad at moments, and I was totally cheering the heroine on. Even after weeks of reading it, this story comes into my mind and I’m DYING for the next book in the series.

Now the funny thing about “voice” is that everyone will like something different. While I like a certain way a story is told, others will pick something entirely different. But I think most will agree that there are authors out there that simply have a gift of making their stories an experience, not just words written on a page.

So yes, voice is very important! And usually when I find an author with a powerful way of storytelling I’m a fan for life!

Developing Villians

2012-01-28T07:55:00.001-05:00

Ah, the bad boys and girls of romance and one of my favorite character types to develop. Do they always run around and cackle Mahwawawawawawaw? Are we the readers allowed to like them?

The question is an easy one for me. Yes, not only are we allowed to like them, there should be something, we relate to--feel sympathic about. In the very least, we need to understand why they do what it is they do.

Why, you ask?

Motives. To understand why the villian does what he or she does, we need to understand what drives them. And the easiest way I know to do this, is to make the villian human. I'm not talking no paranormal or science fiction beings, I'm talking giving them human traits. Give them faults, give them challenges and stakes, the same thing you give your hero and heroine. Make not only the hero have hurtles, but give them to your opposition. Not all should be a cake walk--even for the bad guy.

So, I've included some examples of villians in my stories, that show you the human side of my bad boys and girls.

This first excerpt is from my WIP, One Shot. Notice that Smitty could be anyone one of our girlfriends. Perhaps you know or hang out with someone like her. In this excerpt you see a friendship, a relationship between the heroine and villian and it's not what you'd expect:

“Catch.” Smitty tossed the bottle of shampoo to me. Somehow, I’d run out and forgotten to get more. We were the last two females to hit the showers. Smitty kept her mouth closed until we were alone.

“Thanks. I owe you until I can get to the exchange.” She nodded. It wasn’t an issue. I’d have done the same for her.

“If you actually went when you should have, instead of…”

I closed my eyes and stuck my face under the water, hoping to drown out what came next. Here it comes, the proverbial, I told you so.

“Smitt. It was one mistake. I won’t make it again.”

“I told you going to that bar was a bad idea. He’s an instructor, Audra. Do you have any idea how deep in shit you’ll sink if they find out? You haven’t learned a thing. I saw the way you were looking at him. He winked. For Christ sakes. If I saw it, you can bet someone else did.”

“I know, I know.” I scrubbed my hair, working my fingers through it. “I promise to be a good girl from now on. No more Staff Sgt. Yummy.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

I turned to her. “I promise.” I crossed my heart. “I’ll do my best to resist temptation.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you.” She grinned. “Did you see his ass in those shorts?”

I laughed. “Who didn’t?” I closed my eyes and could visualize digging my nails into it. God, the man flipped every switch in my body. I heated up just thinking about him.

“You better crank that dial to cold, girl. You’re turning red thinking about him.”

I snapped my head in her direction. “You checking me out in the shower, Smitt?”

She laughed. “Duh. Yeah. But it would still be like doing my sister, so don’t get any ideas.”

I threw my washcloth at her. “I’ll leave the chicks to you.”

“Chicks and pricks, Audra. I’ve told you a thousand times…”

“Yeah, I know. You’re bi.”

She gave me a salute and turned off the shower. As she walked by, she cranked mine to cold. I screamed, jumped back and snatched a towel, snapping it at her. She yelped and went for hers.

A loud pounding on the door ended our fun. “Hey, we’d like to get in there sometime today.” I eyed her and started to giggle. There had to be a line a mile long outside. What had they heard? What did they think was going on behind closed doors?

“What’s going on in there?” said a voice a little hoarse and a little strained. Yup, the power of the, male mind, thinking from between his legs. How’d I know? The boy’s brains had gone into overdrive and the longer we remained behind a locked door, the bigger the stories in their heads would grow.

“Nothing you boys could handle,” Smitty yelled back through the door. “Just a little female bonding.”

“That’s not going to help.” I shoved Smitty, giving her a dirty look. The last thing I needed was for the guys to fantasize about us soaping each other up in the showers. As if being one of six women in a male dominated unit, surrounded by alpha chest-thumpers, wasn’t bad enough.

“It’s okay. We used all the hot water. They’ll get over it quick.” She laughed and pulled her robe on while I did the same.

“You’re incorrigible, Smitt.”

“The one and only.” She opened the door and stared into half a dozen male faces. “They’re all yours boys. We’re done here.” She brushed past and started up the stairs. Mouths dropped open and eyes followed her. I shook my head and started after her.

“It’s not what you think,” I said. But their expressions said otherwise. No, they didn’t have to think. Their cocks had taken over.

Super.

In this excerpt, you'll meet Ian Saefa, my villian in Slipping the Past and discover the roots of his obsession with Jocelyn Miller:

Justinus eyed her from across the room. Handsome, powerful and wealthy, everything she should desire. He’d been a friend from childhood. They used to sneak out and ride together, play in the fields and they even learned about sex together. He’d been her first and at one time she thought herself in love with him. But lately he’d taken on a serious air, watching her with hunger, always questioning where she went and with whom.

“Where were you this night, Jocasta? I came by earlier.”

She shrugged and twisted a beaded bracelet on her wrist, a trinket Augustus purchased for her earlier. “Taking in the celebration.”

“Did you attend with someone?”

She glanced up and caught the look in his eyes. Fire. Lust. Her stomach fluttered. “Alone.”

“You shouldn’t go out unescorted. A beautiful woman could find herself in trouble. I might lose you to another lover.”

Jocasta laughed. “You tease me, Justinus. You’re not my lover.”

“I tease not. I’ve asked your father for permission to marry you. He has agreed that the arrangement would be quite satisfactory.”

“Marriage?” Jocasta’s heart thumped in her chest. She could do worse. She cared deeply for him, but regardless she could never love him, not like the Centurion with the amber eyes.

He rose from where he’d reclined and walked toward her. “I’ve loved you all my life.”

She tipped her head back and stared into his face. “You’re my closest friend and I love you as such, but not as intimately as you profess.”

“I hope it will become so much more.” He knelt before her, pulled a bundle wrapped in bright fabric from the folds of his military tunic and held out a jeweled collar. “I’ve had this brought this all the way from Egypt for you. I’ve heard Cleopatra wore something very similar. Here, take it, a small token of my affections.”

Jocasta glanced down at the beaded bracelet she wore and back at the lapis and gold collar. “It’s lovely.”

He reached forward. “Lift your hair.”

Jocasta shook her head. “I can’t take that. I’ve fallen in love with another.”

Justinus’s glared and a tick pulsed in his jaw. His black eyes looked darker, full of rage. “Who?”

“Does it matter?”

“Who?”

“His name is Augustus. He’s a Centurion.”

“Augustus?” Justinus’s eyes fell, a frown creased his face. Pain burned across his countenance.

“Justinus?” There was more there than he was saying. “Do you know him?”

“He’s my brother. Anyone but him. I can’t kill him, but I can’t let you go either. I could never let you go.”

And last but not least, is an excerpt from my WIP Jericho Rising, the sequel to Last Flight of the Ark. Here you meet Kera, Col Caleb Titan's daughter, or the child he thinks is his daughter:

Kera wrinkled her nose. The planet was plagued with the stink of the hybrids and she’d have to live with it until they rid their world of the parasites. If not for the Terran government, she wouldn’t exist—she’d known before she’d hatched they’d been the last pod of children, missed by her father and his crew when they’d landed, and her mother, a hive queen, had intentionally left her behind to help restore the population to its former glory.

With all the colonists, they could grow an endless supply of fresh food and maintain their growing population without traveling to other worlds. The Terrans were unaware they’d become livestock. The hybrids tasted foul and would eventually have to be eradicated. No sense in fouling the food supply.

It didn’t take long for the government of Colonel Kaleb Titan’s world to take over and lock down the city, finding the hidden pod and activating the incubator. If not for their psychic abilities the government of Earth would be unable to use the technology of her people—so they’d elected to keep the hatchlings they’d discovered, which she communicated with daily by telepathy.

Even though her surrogate parents believed she belonged to them, and she looked exactly like Jessica, she didn’t. She’d consumed the umbilical cord of her adopted mother’s other son, and took on his genetics almost immediately. Her DNA was convincing evidence that she belonged to them when she’d been tested—any discrepancies were put off as part of the mutation.

As an infant, she’d been aware they’d switched her, wrapped her in the bloody rags of the hybrid child they’d replaced her with, to give her his scent—actually she’d compelled them to do it. She’d had a superior intelligence, trapped in an infant body—had been aware of all that went on around her and had a mind unlike anything they could possibly believe an infant could possess. Even though she’d been hours old she’d been able to manipulate the weaker minds to her biding, and knew that she simply needed to bide her time before her plan came together.

Since the pod-children shared many of the genetic traits of the hybrids, it made sense for the scientists to hide them among the hybrid population until they needed their special skills.

Her parents were blissfully unaware that Earth command had treated her for her allergies and once she hatched, they’d replaced their son with her, and many of her other hatchling brothers and sisters with other hybrid babies. She used Earth Command for everything she could, exchanging information on the hybrid colonies for favors, and had access to many things the hybrids could only dream about, including the hidden prison full of hybrids taken from their parents at birth—children they were unaware of—the lab rats of the Terran scientists.

Most of all, she’d discovered where her mother had hidden the weapons she’d need to take back their world.

Soon her brothers and sisters would be strong enough, and the only weapon the Terrans had possessed, had been foolishly destroyed by their own hands in their greed to control the alien technology of her world.

Have a great Saturday.

D L

Finding Inspiration in Song by Becca Dale

2012-01-27T02:08:00.004-05:00

Welcome to Friday’s stop on the Decadent Publishing’s Speculative Fiction blog tour. Today, in honor of the LA based band behind the Run Devil Run anthology and my own story from that work called “Can’t Stop Me,” let’s talk a bit about the muse of music.

Inspiration can come from many places. My muse has directed me down some interesting paths simply by pointing out people on the street. With “Can’t Stop Me” the inspiration was preordained by my publisher, but it worked like flipping a switch. As soon as I read Run Devil Run’s lyrics for the song “Can’t Stop Me” my characters began to form and by the third reading, they were fairly solid in my head. Once I actually heard the music, the pace of the story settled in as well, and I realized that the characters had to race across the country to save themselves and the world.

I am not a big music lover but strangely lyrics often launch my thoughts. Some authors actually make playlists for each book and listen to the songs while they write. I am the type of person who gets sidetracked easily – look something shiny – so I can’t do that because the instrumental part is distracting to me until the parameters of the story are solid and in place. However, until recently, I did not realize how often song lyrics are an underlying source of ideas whether for pace, tone, or storyline. “Heart Desires” = an Andy Gibb tune, “I Just Want to be Your Everything.” “Erotic Healing” = Beauty from Pain” by Superchick. “Kya’s King” = Disney’s “Once Upon a Dream.” There are many others but these are the ones that jump out at me. The age and/or sophistication level of some of these songs say way too much about me, as well, but I am trying to block that part.

With “Can’t Stop Me” not only did the song set the pace, the lyrics spoke to me with such strength of character and passion that Luca and Kern could do no less. So I offer my thanks to the members of Run Devil Run and to every other musical artist who has enable the muse to inspire this basically tone deaf author with their words and beat. My thanks also to the talented authors of Paranormal Romantics for allowing me to drop by today. I lift a toast to you ladies as well.

If you had a chance to thank your inspiration who or what would you lift your glass to? Share with me for a chance to win a copy of the eBook “Can’t Stop Me” or any of my other Decadent Publishing titles, a personalized gift from me as well as an autograph from the man on the cover, the ever adorable Jackie Joyride from Run Devil Run. In addition you will be entered for a chance to win three months of free membership to Decadent Publishing’s book club. So many gifts for so little effort. Winners will be drawn Monday, January 30, 2012.

Blurb “Can’t Stop Me.”

Prophecy proclaims a child of three worlds will lead the strong one to victory. Threatened by the church since birth and imprisoned by Lucifer’s elite force for over five years, Kernan Malanous represents demons, angels, and mankind, but who will be the strong one—God, Lucifer, or someone intent on overthrowing them both?

Born the blind daughter of the greatest mediums in history, Luca Alexander sees more than anyone suspects. Screams of the damned slash at her sanity as demonic visitors hide a stranger in her home. To quiet the horror echoing from the underworld, she seeks the prisoner’s soothing thoughts, offering him peace while finding her own.

When the devil’s top gun comes to reclaim his prize, Luca risks her life to liberate the pure soul in her attic, but Kern won’t leave his beautiful innocent at the mercy of the merciless. Desperate, the young couple flees with hell on their heels. Unrestricted for the first time in their lives, Luca and Kern discover rare joy in one another, but all good has its counterpart. Torn between personal peril and world-wide destruction, will the young lovers run from fate or take a stand to fight and live as free beings?

Buy Link

Becca Dale - Naughty Enough

http://beccadale.blogspot.com/

What's in a Title?

2012-01-26T06:39:00.000-05:00

Lately, for some unknown reason, titles have been difficult in making themselves known. It can be frustrating to whittle all your hard work down into a few words that are reflective of a story. Title trouble is nothing new for me. But it seems to be especially hard lately. Maybe it's that drive to have the perfect title. The one that can tell the reader a lot about the story in such a short span of time - sometimes only one word.

So tell me, what kind of titles do you like? Ones descriptive of the story as a whole, or ones that focus in on one key event in the story? Maybe even titles that have nothing to do with the story, but more the theme?

Something New Plus Something Pretty!

2012-01-25T16:07:00.003-05:00

I got my finalized cover art for Eversworn yesterday. That's always fun.

Let me see if I can get it attached...

There we go.

So, the hunk in the center is Dillon. The lady to your right is Isabeau.

This is their story:

Steal the salt. Bind the grimoire. Escape the male.

When an exchange of stolen goods in the Feriana marketplace turns sour, Isabeau stumbles from the encounter bruised and laden with new orders to complete an even larger heist. With her child’s life at stake, there’s no room for error—or allies.

Armed with a lethal book of spells, she strikes a dangerous bargain with Roland Bernhard. Steal a shipment of salt from the Feriana colony, and she’ll have her freedom—and her daughter. It’s all she’s ever wanted. At least it was…until she runs into Dillon Preston.

Dillon is out of commission after a mine explosion, and itching for a distraction. He gets it when the female who saved his leg arrives at the colony with nothing but flimsy excuses and even flimsier attire. She’s after something, but is it him—or the salt?

Trapped in a desperate bid to gain true freedom, Isabeau is willing to sacrifice her life for her daughter’s, but Dillon has other plans. He wants a package deal, and he’s not willing to lose either female, even if it means the future king of Sere’s head will roll.

Warning: This title contains a heroine desperate to save her daughter and a hero determined to make them a family. It also includes wings, horns and other assorted appendages.

I also have review ARCs ready to go to some lucky reviewers. Yay!

In other news, I'm writing the second Araneae Nation novel, A Feast of Souls. (Vaughn and Mana's book.) Their story gave me a character I really wanted to expand on, but couldn't cram his story within their book. He also doesn't fit the series mold. So...for the first time in years, I will be attempting to write a novella. My editor signed off on the idea, so I'm looking forward to trying something new. It should be fun, and I'd like to see if I've grown enough to pull off a shorter piece.

How about y'all? Do you have a preference for writing short or long?

When Life Reminds Me...

2012-01-24T01:00:00.000-05:00

I just got back home today from a wedding we went to in Jeckyll Island, Georgia. (Congratulations Lillian and Patrick, we are thrilled for you!)

On the day of the wedding, my husband and I leisurely strolled around Jeckyll Island hand-in-hand looking around. He had been to the island a lot as a child when they visited family but had not been back in two decades. I had never been there.

Let me tell you--it is beautiful.

But that is not the purpose of my story. In my most recently published book, Love Beyond Loyalty, two of the characters spend some time discussing Spanish Moss. Its actually a pivotal scene that travels between Love Beyond Loyalty and Love Beyond Sanity, the second book in the Outsider series. I wrote the scenes from my memory of the Moss that used to hang on the trees outside my bedroom window when I lived in New Orleans.

In New Jersey, I do not see such sights. I see other wonderful things but Spanish Moss on the trees, I do not.

As we were walking I looked up and there it was. I snapped a picture as my mind whirled. Even when I'm on vacation, life reminds me of how much I love this job I get to do telling stories. I had to share the picture with all of you.

Hope you're all well.

A Taste of What's to Come

2012-01-23T02:03:00.007-05:00

2012 will be a very exciting year for me! Sometimes we work so hard for our dream that once we attain it's hard to sit back and enjoy the ride. Like every writer, I've had my times of struggle where the words were lacking or the story flat. But today, I'm not focusing on the bad. I want to think about the good and take a moment just absorb what the next year will be like.

Omegas in Love Releasing March 19
Book Four of The Vanguards

Small Excerpt:

Leaping after Katrina, Tyler was intercepted midair. He hit the pavement with a bone-crunching impact. Air rushed out of his lungs while stars whirled around his head, yet he still managed to roll from the attack. He might not train like Eric, his alpha, or Robert, his beta, but Katrina had forced him to learn the basics of keeping his hide intact.

He jumped to his feet and faced his opponent. The dark, cold eyes of the unknown Asian male stared back from the face of the beast who’d attacked him. His companions had shifted, too.

Impending death confronted Tyler. Three shifters against one were terrible odds, especially for a shifter who worked as a real estate agent.

The Sigma Releasing August 2012

Book Five of The Vanguards

No cover yet.

Small snippet: Not that Sam blamed Sugar, his only human friend, for breaking his heart years ago. Who could compete with a Nosferatu vampire warrior? Not him.

Untitled Releasing in late 2012

Confessions of a Succubus book one

No Cover yet

Small teaser: To survive, I needed to feed from energy created in my body during an orgasm. So, I couldn’t even stay alive on bad sex.

Koishi Releasing March 2013

Gatekeepers book 3

No Excerpt yet

That's it for now. My moment of taking it all in is over. I have a sci-fi bunny to finish and a dragon awaiting my attention.

Rest?

HA! I laugh in the face of exhaustion.

http://www.annienichols.com/

My First Science Fiction Romance

2012-01-21T06:56:00.002-05:00

So, I was going through unfinished projects and I came across this gem, created during a phase of my "I want to be published" writing journey. While reading it, I realized how important it still is to keep a story moving forward. Here I employ the use of hooks and hangers, something I considered then, and still consider to be very important.

So without further wait, I'll show you a little bit, and please excuse any typos or grammer. It's not polished. :) Where I leave off, is not the end of the chapter. Oh no, I inflict poor Marcus with much more before this chapter ends.

Here's an excerpt from Blame it on Mars:

I should have opted for the lethal injection.

Any worse vibration and his teeth would rattle out of his skull. Marcus strangled the levers beside his seat, knuckles white, hanging on only for an anchor to sanity.

The system’s lights began to die one at a time.

Power cells—failing.

Pressure—failing.

The flipping hydraulics—failing.

All winked out except a little orange light that glowed and pulsed like a strobe, letting him know he could still breathe. Laughter bubbled from his lips. Oxygen? Who needed a damned light to know they were still breathing?

An outline of a seated man flashed across the navigational screen, alerting him to assume the crash position, most likely the product of the same scientist. The genius did bother to think of the extras, like auxiliary power for controlling the ship. But they’d saved enough to tell him to kiss his ass goodbye. Clever.

In the canopy’s frame, a planet grew larger. Big and blue, a Goliath. “Safe bet you’re not Mars.” Wormholes, it appeared, were really tunnels through space. What were you thinking, Marcus?

He let go of the lever and tapped the control panel, then banged on it. Dead, except for the familiar red sign of the seated-man, who took the opportunity to flash at him. Again. He slammed his fist down harder. The image hummed, popped and disappeared. In its place a calm computer generated voice warned him, “crash imminent.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Crash imminent in 5.2 minutes.”

He flipped a couple of switches, for the sake of doing something. “How about you tell me where I am?”

“Crash imminent in 4.93 minutes.”

“Super.” It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Something about dying alone on an unknown planet disturbed him more than the dying part.

“Crash imminent…” Marcus pounded on the console and the voice died.

“Yeah, okay. Crash is fucking imminent. I’d rather not think about that.”

Yeah, he’d been sent into space to expire, but this was different. Nobody would know he was here. An unmarked, unvisited, grave. The red warning of the seated man came back to life, reminding him of how much his life truly sucked. Marcus ground down on his teeth. “Where’s a good sledgehammer when you need one?”

“Crash…”

Marcus yanked his hands off the levers and banged on the control panel like a mountain gorilla. The cover cracked and all the lights died. “Shut the hell up. Can’t you see I’m trying to think?”

He glanced out the canopy again. Space was no longer visible, only the blues, greens and browns of the world below. “Situation assessment, Captain,” Marcus called out to the empty cockpit.

He dropped his voice a couple of octaves. “Well, we’re a coming in a little steep, she’s hot, and you’ve got no power.” Marcus searched around for something, anything that would tell him he could get out of this. Nothing. He burst into laughter.

“Assessment—you’re screwed. Good news, it can’t get any worse.” He wiped a tear from his eye, flipped a lever and snorted. Could it?

“Please fasten your seatbelts, folks, we could experience a bit of turbulence upon entry.” Oh yeah, a bit. The Martian Destiny’s nose was already a slight shade off molten red. Her tiles glowed incandescent and in minutes, she’d vaporize. “It’s a pleasant 6oo degrees out there. No cloud cover and lot’s of sunshine. It looks like it’s going to be a real scorcher. Don’t forget your sunscreen, folks.”

Marcus laughed again. The Destiny bumped, pitching him sideways. Her armrest caught him across the ribs and sharp pains raced up his sides. “Seat belts. Not a bad idea.” His hands flew to the safety harness, snapping it shut. The ship shuddered and he grabbed the levers, resuming his death grip.

The shuttle lurched and entered the planet’s atmosphere, her speed accelerated at the same pace as his heart. “I’m going to die.”

Not that it hadn’t been the plan. A few days ago he’d been scheduled to be executed, and just when he’d been ready to accept his fate, life dealt him a Trojan horse. At first the mission to Mars looked like a good thing. The package, the presentation, he couldn’t say no. What is it they say about Geeks bearing gifts?

“You will be the first man to walk on the surface.” At least that’s what they told him to get him to agree, that, and threatening to kill him by strapping him down and pumping poison into his veins. Option one or option two? It hadn’t been too hard to decide which was better. Whoo hoo, a glorious exit. Of course he couldn’t say no. And what’s behind door number two, Vanna!

Bad choice. Painful death. Sure, he hadn’t escaped execution and his life had been extended, but for what?

A barbeque.

The heat radiated off the glass like a blast furnace. The exposed skin of his hands began to blister and sting. Taking a breath, he pressed his feet against the floor of the cabin. They slipped across the surface, leaving melted rubber streaked across the decking. Now why did he think it could get any worse? “I wasn’t supposed to die like this.” Marcus closed his eyes and waited for the fireworks.

They never came. The Destiny went from fast, to not so fast, in the time it took him to scream. He flew forward against the restraints, knocking the wind from his lungs in a loud whoosh. Thank God he’d buckled up, or he would have kissed the windshield.

The culprit, a sludge that looked like a clear jelly, melted and streamed along the windows like strands of mucus. The nose sliced through the freaky goo, causing it to boil and bubble. He’d no idea what, but didn’t care. It slowed his descent and that was good enough.

It didn’t stop her. No, that would imply he had a little kismet on his side. It did give him the chance to bring the nose up and get control. Too steep and entry and he’d disintegrate, not enough angle and The Destiny would be torn apart by cross winds. Marcus hit a lever and manually cranked the flaps, slowing her more, praying to anyone that might hear him, that the action wouldn’t rip the ship apart.

It only took seconds to exit the gelatin. By then, he had a better angle on the approach and the situation didn’t look as grim.

As the ground drew closer, he observed a jungle below. Vegetation meant breathable air, well, most of the time it did and it usually meant water. Chances were pretty good the planet below could sustain life. Now, he needed to make it to the surface to find out.

“Come on baby, keep it together.” The Destiny vibrated in response to his pleas. Holding onto the levers took all his strength and determination. Every bone in his body buzzed from the jarring and his arms ached, feeling like they could dislocate at any moment. With all that, he managed to hold on, fueling the hopes of survival he’d tried to abandon on Earth.

The ship began to brush the treetops and Marcus steadied himself. Branches squealed against the skin of the vessel, filling the interior with their shrieks, setting his nerves to tingling.

The first impact sheared off the wings, removing what little control he’d retained. Now more missile than ship, the disabled vessel smashed through the jungle canopy.

The second impact really hurt. The bottom of the ship peeled away like a lid on a can of sardines. The contents dropped out, including him, all in a micro-moment, even though it seemed like it reeled along in slow motion.

The bottom of the ship caught after smashing through a couple of smaller trees and remained behind, to hang suspended in the treetops. The rest of the Destiny and her fuselage continued on and exploded moments later into a brilliant ball of fire. The heat of the explosion washed over him, followed by the smell of burning hair.

Marcus stared at the smoking, charred trees, corpses of the blast, thankful his ride stopped short. He sucked in a breath and started to giggle, unable to believe his luck. What were the chances a man could drop from space and live?

Impossible. It appeared there was a god here, whoever he was and he’d given him a second chance.

Courage fueled, he reached down with trembling hands and unbuckled the harness. The Destiny groaned. “Time to get off this ride, Marcus,” he whispered, not daring to go a decibel higher.

He glanced over at the trunk of blue-leafed tree, a small distance away. “Maybe she’ll hold. Not that far, a few steps, tops. You can do it Marc.” He pushed himself up on shaky legs.

Crack.
Or maybe not. A sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life, not a horrific shriek, scream, or even boom, broke any allusions of living he’d gathered. The Destiny, or what was left of her, dropped like a broken elevator. Straight down.

Marcus didn’t remember the third and final impact. When he came back to consciousness, he found every last inch of his body zinging with pain and didn’t need to remember. His body did it for hm.

He’d been thrown free of the wreck. The seat sat about twenty feet away in the twisted ball of debris. He took a deep breath, then gasped. Pain—like he’d been hit and run by a tank.

Marcus flexed and unflexed his hands then turned his head to the side and stared at the toe of his boot. He blinked, unable to look away. Leg and foot still attached, not a bad thing. However, the angle in which it pointed, about one hundred and eighty degrees from where it should be, now that didn’t look so good. He sure as fuck wasn’t a gymnast, so flexibility could be ruled out quick.

Okay, one issue. Marcus cringed and tried to move his other leg. Success, all the way to his toes. Though he felt pain, it didn’t appear as bad as he first believed. Perhaps he could find a way to patch up and survive. One broken leg was better than two.

“Okay what else is wrong with you?” He squeezed his eyes shut, gathered his courage, opened them and continued to survey the damage. Another mistake. He wished it away, but no amount of wishing would remove the image in front of him.

A large chunk of metal, a souvenir from the impact, stuck up from his body. It impaled him through the right side, under the ribs, aka the love handle, better yet, it pinned him to the ground. Long and narrow, it started off wide at the top, getting skinnier as it entered his body and was pointy like a stake—one great big, nasty metal splinter.

The heat from entry annealed the metal and sealed his flesh around it, keeping him from hemorrhaging. Again, not a bad thing. At least he wouldn’t bleed out. But, the resulting dull surface only seemed to accentuate its size, sucking away any enthusiasm he’d had about being alive. Is it really that big?

He dropped his head back; unable to look further, then lifted it up again to stare at the fragment. Still there, still sticking up, and still pointy. He groaned. And yes, it was big.

Maybe it would’ve been better to vaporize on entry.

“Well, isn’t this fun.” His eyes burned and his nose stung. The oxygen on the planet seemed concentrated. At least one thing went well. With his injuries, he probably needed it.

Now that he knew he wouldn’t be walking away, other not so pleasant thoughts wormed their way through his head. Who and what lived here? For all he knew the planet could be inhabited by some nasty species. Meat eaters. Hoo-rah. Sign me up.

He reached down and grabbed the chunk of metal, pretty sure that it only pierced the flesh on his side, or he’d be dead. He shouldn’t pull it out, not the best choice, but he’d run out of options. He needed to get into cover, splint his leg, and reassess the situation. Adapt, improvise and overcome. The last bit would be the hardest part. There wouldn’t be an ambulance, or doctor waiting to see him. Survival would be up to him. Slowly he counted backwards from three and yanked.

Then again, he’d never been Army and that was their thing. Overcome? Who the hell came up with that anyway? “God!” Sharp pains shot to every nerve ending. Darkness rolled over him and he went with it.

#####

Marcus woke to the sound of rustling leaves, not far from where he lay. He turned his head and reached down to touch the wound on his side. It wept blood, but not gushing. The scrap of metal must have missed the arteries and organs, as he’d guessed. Another impossibility. Someone either wanted him to suffer, or they didn’t want him dead. Yet.

He could smell the fuel and smoke from his ship mixed with the coppery tang of his blood. Yet? God, what was he thinking? He needed to face it. He was going to die, here on an alien planet, far from all he knew, and really, all things considered, did he want to live? He could be the only humanoid on this planet, or worse.

How much longer would it take? He blew out a gust of air and tried to push the throbbing in his limbs to the back of his mind. He didn’t feel close to death, only miserable. “Damn it, Marcus. You’re already giving up. Knock it off. You’re not going to die.”

The leaves rattled again. Something moved under them, coming closer. Marcus narrowed his eyes and willed it to go away. It moved again.

He studied the shifting debris, trying to analyze the threat. It didn’t look like something big enough to eat him. Still, he didn’t like it creeping towards him, nor the thought he could become breakfast. Reaching down, he grabbed the chunk of metal that he’d dropped and did his best to throw it at the moving leaves. He didn’t want to know what—he wanted it to go away.

The fragment landed next to it. The movement stopped. Maybe I scared it away?

It moved again.

Or maybe not.

“Get.” He huffed out the word as best as he could, every breath agonizing. More crackling. Slowly something began to emerge from under the decaying matter. Little bits of blue peeked up at him, while it made its way to the surface, until it finally emergied in one bright jolt of electric blue.

“Ah shit.” Of all the creatures it could be, of all the things his mind could spin from the depths of his imagination, from brain-sucking squid creatures to bug-eyed aliens, he faced the one thing that terrified him more than anything could. “Jesus, fucking—Christ. Why?”

Jungle-survival-training-flashback resurfaced, and Marcus wanted to crawl out of his skin. He could have handled a bugged eyed alien, a snake, even the freaking brain-sucking squid, but not a tarantula and not this one.

Bigger than his hand and covered with wiry hairs, it challenged every fractured bit of bravado left in him. Worse yet, he could see his reflection in its eyes. It arched up like a cat and hissed. Bonus! It’s got personality. Shit. Get me out of here. His heart thumped against his ribs, bouncing into his throat and treating his tonsils like a heavy bag. As he stared at it, he wondered if it was poisonous. Of course it is. Nothing had gone right so far, why should that change?

He grabbed a handful of soil and leaves and heaved it at the spider. It didn’t work. It only seemed to antagonize it. The damned thing rushed forward like a linebacker. He grabbed more leaves and soil, but before he could toss the handfuls, the spider leapt on his leg and sunk its pinchers in.

A sharp stinging radiated from the bite, enough to let him know it successfully injected poison. He screamed and backhanded it, sending the spider to land about ten feet from his head. It stayed there, out of reach, watching, rubbing its mandibles together as if it sharpened the cutlery and it looked to be staring. Hard to tell with all the eyes.

“Get out of here.” It responded by clicking its pinchers together, a sound that nearly pushed him to faint. He grabbed another handful of soil and debris, but his aimed sucked. It landed no where near the blue arachanid. This is bad. Numbness spread up his leg and euphoria hit. Marcus’s brain grew foggy.

The numbing, much like Novocain, rolled up his leg from the bite, giving him respite from the pain. But… He blinked and the spider split into two. Crap. “Stop that.”

“Click, click, click,” it chattered back.

“You’re the fucking spider-whisperer now, Marcus?” He spluttered and started to giggle. His body lifted from the ground, or felt like it did, and a pleasant warmth spread through him. A rumble of laughter rolled from his chest, before he could stop it. Noise right now could attract attention. What if there were more? Whoo hoo. He did his best to push aside the feeling of giddiness and control his laughter, sure that he wouldn’t like the impending consequences.

His eyes began to get heavy. Marcus lifted his hand to his face, and slapped his cheek. It didn’t work. The high wormed its way into his brain, and his eyes slid shut. No. Marcus snapped them back open. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He stared at the spider and it made its clicking sound. “Yeah, well fuck you,” he slurred back. “That’s right. Go find dinner somewhere else.”

He needed to sing or something, anything to stay awake, but all that came to mind was little boy blue. You’re losing it, Marcus? Mother Goose? Come on anything but that. You could be dying; make your last moments memorable. Anything but nursery rhymes. What’s wrong with you? You’re a man, think of something manly.

“The buffet is closed. Mary, Mary,” he mumbled, forgetting the rest. Was she Ms. October? “Stay awake, Marcus.” He swatted at his face again and missed. “Shit.”

He glanced at the spider and doubled his efforts. The world around him began to spin. He wanted to close his eyes, but couldn’t. There would be consequences.

Consequences, that sat out of arm’s reach.

Waiting.

“Zack be a thimble, not a prick. Jack jump over a…” He giggled again. “How does your garden grow?” That wasn’t how it went. Was it? “Ah shut. You’re in troub—le. No—sleep, can’t sleep.” The spider began to blur and he renewed his efforts. “Little Bo Peep,” he screamed and passed out.

Marcus had a great nap. Even so, he knew he needed to wake up. It didn’t matter that he was busted up, or too stoned on venom to care. He fought the haze, knowing he needed to pull himself back. How long had he been asleep? Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter. He’d blacked out with an eight-legged, alien nightmare watching.

Before he opened his eyes, he wished it gone. Once open, he noticed it no longer sat there and then decided that scenario was worse. He began to scan the area. It wasn’t near him. He froze. “Please tell me you are not on me.”

Reluctantly, he began to examine his body.

It wasn’t until he lifted his head and stared at the shrapnel wound, that he noticed the odd bulge. Marcus bit down on his lip and poked it. It moved.

"Eeeeeeeech." He didn’t think he was even capable of a sound like that, but there it was. He’d shrieked like a little girl. It wiggled again, causing the flesh on his side to undulate. He screamed again.

Ah, poor Marcus. But this is merely the beginning of his troubles. His scream attracts attention, and soon Marcus will learn he's not alone.

Thanks for visiting today. Have a great weekend,

D L

It's Friday

2012-01-20T11:01:00.000-05:00

A few times I've posted pics of wonderful places I'd love to live and unusual homes I'd love to live in. Have you stopped by in the past and wondered, "Why is this author writing about strange homes?" My only defense is I'm a dreamer with a wild and wicked imagination. You knew that already if you've read any of my stories. :) I get up everyday with new strange and weird ideas of what I'd like to write, where I'd like to write it, paths I want to walk when I stretch my mind...things like that. Probably a good thing I don't have lots of money because I'd own a 'different' home in every place I want to be. Of course, each would be outfitted to accomodate my menagerie of furfriends--that's a must.

This week I found my dream home. For real this time!! It has everything I want in a home. The perfect place for me and mine. Check this abode in Bisbee Arizona out (Photots: Bisbee Reality)

It's in the desert which is warm most of the time. The plant life is exactly my style, and it's hidden away from almost everything. Hell, if you didn't know it was there, you'd never find it. Oh, did I say it was warm. *laughing* And the inside never drops below 66 degrees or goes above 72 degrees. Something to do with 'rock temperature'.

Building this must have given the mining engineer as much satisfaction as it did the owners. It's beautiful, serene, and looks so natural in it's setting.

Thirty-seven acres of amazing countryside! Do you know how many rescues I could have out there? They'd all have to be savvy to living in the wild, but they'd work that out somehow.

The pool is a short hike from the cave and fed by a natural creek. Awesome! You can find out more here: http://realestate.yahoo.com/promo/inside-a-15-million-cave-house.html

Have you ever thought about your dream home? What it would look like, where it would be? Guess it does really come down to location, location, location.

Have a great weekend. If you're in the cold, northern climes--stay warm!

Growl and roar--it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

An Anniversary

2012-01-19T06:03:00.000-05:00

Yesterday marked the two year anniversary of my first published novel, Flash of Dark, a hot, hot paranormal romance, release. So, I've been a published author for two years. O_o It's a bit astonishing really when I look back to take a tally of things I've accomplished in that time. Things well beyond anything I thought capable.

My how times flies.

SOPA Strike

2012-01-18T08:59:00.002-05:00

Think about the limitations of censorship today.

January 18th is going to be amazing. Sites are striking in all different ways, but they are united by this: do the biggest thing you possibly can, and drive contacts to Congress. Put this on your site or automate it by putting this JS into your header, which will start the blackout at 8AM EST and end at 8PM EST.

For more information go here.

It's Cold Out There

2012-01-16T04:37:00.001-05:00

It's 2 degrees today.

Sure it looks pretty but it sucks to be out in it.

Where even your winter gear does nothing for you chattering teeth.

Why can't I be here?

Doing this or...

this.

And watching them.

Maybe next winter.

http://www.annienicholas.com/

Please welcome Caridad Pineiro!

2012-01-15T07:00:00.001-05:00

You just know you’re doing it right when it feels…

First of all, thank you so much for having me here today, Stacey! I so appreciate you sharing your blog home with me so I can chat about a very new experience in my writing life.

Over the years I’ve toyed with the idea of writing an erotic romance, but somehow just never got around to it. I always hesitated, wondering how I would manage to go beyond the edge that I had already done in my romantic suspense and paranormal novels and get “erotic”. After all, my books were pretty sexy.

So I dawdled on challenging myself in that genre, too busy with writing other stories, although I always tried to push the envelope, especially since my tag line is “Live to Love on the Edge.”

But just a few months ago, I finally didn’t have a choice about writing my first erotic romance. I had sold a number of Nocturne Bites, but the line was changing to Nocturne Cravings and with that, I suddenly found myself having to write not only one erotic romance novella, but three!

Whoa, what to do? Research was in order, but more importantly, I had to develop a sense of what was working in terms of conflict, plot and sensuality.

With the stories also being paranormal novellas, there was a lot to fit in a smaller number of pages, but I pushed on like I always do. Developing the characters and their inner conflicts. Deciding what situations I would place them in which would force them to face those inner conflicts. Making sure I had a believable attraction between the hero and heroine and pushing that attraction a lot faster and farther than I would in one of my regular novels.

The first novella, AMAZON AWAKENING, explores what happens when a New York City lawyer is forced to confront not only her family history, but also a sacred space in the Amazon and a very sexy and enticing “Guardian” who will tempt her almost beyond reason.

In the second novella, NOCTURNAL WHISPERS, a British Lord must decide between recovering a mummy and freeing himself of a curse, or falling in love with the museum curator who holds the key to his freedom.

In between the plot and conflicts in those stories is a lot of very sexy foreplay, edgy love-making , adult toys and language I wouldn’t normally use, but there was one thing I discovered as I wrote these erotic tales.

The story and characters let me know when what I was doing was right. In fact, it was so much fun and so exciting, that my fingers flew over the keys and before I knew it, I had finished writing the novellas.

I guess I must have done something right because my editors immediately asked me to do another three!!

What I discovered was that the fear that had kept me from trying to write in this genre (and fear it was although I told myself it was a lack of time, etc.) disappeared as I realized that there was not a great deal of difference from writing a non-erotic story, especially since the bottom line was that I was writing a romance. There still had to be that initial attraction, the development of a relationship and as always, the promise of happily-ever-after.

And of course, in between all that lots of really really hot love scenes. LOL!

Thank you again for having me with you, Stacey. Thank you all for dropping by. I’d love to hear from you about what you think about not only erotic romances, but novellas. Do you find them too short? What are your favorite kinds of erotic stories?

Also, I love to hear from you guys and you can find me at www.caridad.com, www.therebornvampirenovels.com and also on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/caridad.author) and on Twitter @CaridadPineiro.

I've got a question.

2012-01-14T08:18:00.007-05:00

So, we've all heard the story about the man who climbed the mountains of Napal to see the Dali Lama and asks, "What is the meaning of life?"

So, I'm climbing my own mountain today and I have to ask, "Boxers or briefs?" Okay, so I threw in a third option just to confuse you. Work with me here.

How important are the undergarments in the stories you've read? Do you read historicals with chemises and cod pieces? Or are you a futuristic reader, someone who likes spray on clothing? I thought about a topic for my blog post long and hard, (No pun intended) and I wanted to talk undergabachies. Why not? In romance and erotic romance you have to get past them to get to the love scenes.So hang onto your skivvies, let's talk about underwear.

Leather loin clothes have been found with the remains of prehistoric man, showing that for millions of years, people have been getting their underpants in a bind. Move forward and the Ancient Greeks wore something called a chiton, and even the pharaohs packed underwear in their tombs for the afterlife.

Around the 13th century, man started getting fancy with pull-on undergarbachies called braies and chauesses. Woolen drawers and drawstrings were all the fashion, in some cases, letting it all hang out. Keep moving forward and the underwear are not only for utility, but for sex appeal. Why else cod pieces that accentuate certain areas of the male anatomy, and corsets that give things a lift like Victoria's Secret's Wonder Bra?
In the 1800's a boxer named John Sullivan helped to define the boxers we know and love today.
But it wasn't until the Great Depression and the 1930's that the real innovation happened.

Yes Houston, we've got elastic!

And what about the women you say? Don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm getting to it and I have to say, "We've come a long way, baby."

Ancient women wore loin clothes, much like their male counterparts. But as you move forward, many of the undergarments evolved to cover the breasts too. The ancient Greek women generally wore nothing underneath, unless engaged in athletic activities, and then you might see them in a two piece number. The tops were called strophiae or brassieres, (the forerunner to today's bra) and for the bottoms, subligaculae, which look remarkably like granny panties in ancient art, but were worn like shorts.

Move forward again and women had dress-like underwear called chemise, shift, or smock. Then we have pantaloons, corsets, bodies, and OMG, the invention of the chastity belt. Petticoats move toward slips and the garments get smaller and smaller. As we continue forward, not only do women's undergarments get more complicated, they become more uncomfortable and terms like "camel toe" and "wedgie" come into play. For women, elastic changed our lives in a big way, or should I say small? Now we have garments that lift, support and separate, with very little fabric needed to accomplish the task, and some mad doctor's invention called the thong and another called a girdle. Gone are the whale bone corsets that made women keep smelling salts at hand.

So, I'll leave with with an excerpt from one of my WIPs, where my heroine is caught dead-to-rights in a pair of Grannie panties. Hey, but don't be so hard on her, at least we've evolved.

I threw the door open and peeked in. Perez was sitting on the washing machine. The barracks shared the appliance, but I wasn’t thinking about washing clothes. Now sharing, yeah I had a few ideas. Several creative uses of the spin cycle and hot hard muscle came to mind. I quickly pushed the image out of my brain. Not the time or place. So why are you here Audra? Damn. I knew why.

“Perez,” I hissed. “Someone’s going to catch us. The first sergeant just saw me.” I stepped into the room and shut the door.

“Lock it.”

Without thinking I turned the deadbolt. Then reached to unlock it.

“Don’t even think about it.” He jumped off the washing machine and strode toward me. My mouth went dry and I gasped.

“This isn’t a good idea.”

“You got a better one?” He backed me against the door and pressed both palms on either side of my head. No, not a game I should be playing. He was way out of my league and could eat me as a light snack if he so desired. He lowered his mouth to mine and softly kissed my bottom lip, pressing closer. “Say no, and I’ll let you go.” His breath whispered against my cheek. Heat surged through my blood. “You and I both know you don’t want to leave.”

He was right. One word. That’s all it would take. His lips moved down my neck. I balled my hands, and opened my mouth, but all that came out was a throaty growl. He had me. I couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to do it. I groaned and grabbed the ass I’d been dreaming about all day and tugged him into me.

He lifted me like a child’s toy and swung me away from the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist while he walked us to the washing machine and set me down. In one tug, he had my belt undone and went for my boots, dropping them to the floor.

“Lift.”

I pressed my hands on the washing machine and raised my hips. It took seconds for my BDU pants to come off and join my boots and belt. His eyes darted down and back up to mine. The corner of his mouth twitched and I wanted to climb inside the washing machine.

Oh God. Grandma panties.

“What are those?”

I cringed. What were they? Horror. That’s what they were. If I knew I’d find myself naked in front of Perez, I wouldn’t have worn them. No frills, cotton, the kind that stopped at the bottom of my ribs and were baggy in the ass. They most un-sexy garment on the face of the planet, and I was sporting them in basic white.

“Only good girls wear panties like that.” He reached out and slipped a finger under elastic, sliding it along the inside of my leg. “Are you a good girl, Davis?”

I sucked in a breath. His finger crept closer to my lips, skimming over them. I ground down on my teeth when he worked the pad of his digit over my clit. “No.”

Have a great Saturday!

D L

It's Friday

2012-01-13T06:09:00.000-05:00

And I'm off for a double tour of duty! Yes, the day job has grabbed me for 16 hours today, so my apologies because this will be short and scattered. Usually I wake up around 10am and read emails while I think on what to blog about. I've slept a total of 5 hours, right now it's 5:45 and still dark outside!! I'm not looking forward to seeing the sunrise. :(

*Sigh* there are times I wish I had more time for doing the things I enjoy but the necessities of life require I trudge out into the real world on a regular basis. Benefits and all that good stuff are wrapped up in the equation.

That's it... off for a quick cup of coffee and here's hoping they don't find my head on the desk near the end of my shift. That wouldn't be a good thing.

Hope you enjoy your Friday and the weekend.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

The One True Way...

2012-01-12T06:26:00.000-05:00

...to publish a book doesn't exist.

Sorry to burst the bubble of whoever thinks that. Despite what some writers out there think, there is no "one true way" to publish a book. What works for one person doesn't work for another. What works for a group of people won't always work for another group. Basically, the bottom line is that you have to take the route that works for you. No one else.

There are a lot of options out there now, different paths available to writers and that's a wonderful thing. That hasn't always been the case. Some people like the fact there's choices and others don't. Having a choice means you can have more flexibility. Having a choice also means you need to look at all the angles before you make a choice. A choice that works for you. No one else.

In 2008, when I first starting mulling over the idea of publishing my first novel, I did some research. For those that don't know me, this means I spent months seeking out avenues that were available to me. *g* I made a list of my choices and decided to set out on a path. I sent my manuscript out and bit my nails for a the four weeks it took to receive rejection. So then I sat down and took a look at the path I had set out. I'd been rejected, did I want to maybe reset my goals because I'd set them too high? I even considered self-publishing the book, believe it or not. But, ultimately, I decided my goals weren't too high and I'd simply press on. I was on the path, nothing said I couldn't create a fork later and veer off.

Those decisions brings me to now, a path I still consider myself on. A path I actually consider myself still paving and have only moved a few feet from where I started when that first book published with a small press in January 2010. Most people are surprised to hear that. With 12 books to my credit, most people think I consider myself pretty well into my path, but I don't. But it's a path working for me. No one else.

See a pattern? ;^)

Bottom line? Do your research. Make informed decisions about what you want in the long term instead of going with what everyone else is telling you to do. This is your writing career, not theirs.

One of my favorite sayings about this business is: publishing is a marathon, not a sprint.

Slow down and enjoy the scenery.

Well, I Didn't See That Coming...

2012-01-11T13:40:00.001-05:00

Have you heard of Bookcountry.com? I had, in passing, but had no idea what it actually was until I saw an article floating around Twitter. Apparently, you sign up and critique three books. Then you're allowed to share your own book (or chapters from a book) for critique. The idea being the classic you never know who's watching.

In this case, well, they were right.

In November, Ms. Schafer, who lives in rural Washington State and has a day job as a mental health professional, tried again with “Between,” a fantasy novel about a woman named Vivian who must destroy a powerful sorceress.

That attracted the notice of Deidre Knight, a literary agent, who was browsing submissions on Book Country.

“I read the first 10 pages and said, yes, she definitely needs to send to us,” Ms. Knight said.

Within weeks, Ms. Knight had taken on Ms. Schafer as a client and negotiated a deal with Ace Books, which included a second book, “Wakeworld,” a novel that Ms. Schafer is in the early stages of writing.

You can read the full article here.

I drool at the prospect of writing for Ace and sharing a publisher with one of my writing heroes, Jim Butcher, but I still anticipate going the traditional query route when/if I finally pursue that NY dream.

So what do you think? Is it worth the gamble of posting your work in the hopes of catching an editor's or agent's eye? What are the odds lightening will strike twice in the same place?

A Round Up...

2012-01-10T01:00:00.000-05:00

I thought I would do a round up of all four of my series today. I get asked about the differences between them all the time.

So, first is the Outsider series. See the picture of Love Beyond Time, the first book in the series, below. The Outsiders is a a Fantasy Romance series with hot love scenes. It isn't Paranormal, it's Fantasy. So its not Vampires or Werewolves but it is about 'other' creatures.

Below is a picture of Eye Contact, the first book in my Conditioned series. Its also not vampires or werewolves but about psychics!

Initiation, pictured below, is the first book in the Warrior series. Its a Young Adult, first person series. Lots of Paranormal in this. Vampires and Werewolves.

Her Wolf is the first book in my Westervelt Wolves series. This series is almost finished.

Thanks so much for stopping by today!

Arrgh, There Be Treasure

2012-01-09T07:00:00.001-05:00

Treasure is in the eye of the beholder.

What I find valuable my hubby finds...odd. LOL

My greatest find was in 2002 (why yes, I do remember the year), we'd just moved to Honolulu and were broke. I couldn't afford to buy any books and found my way to the local library. To my horror they were closing down. (a sin, I know.) However, they were selling off all their books dirt cheap.

The librarian gave me a box and told me to go for it. Boy, did I. I discovered out of print copies of old sci fi books. (let me wipe my drool) I'd gone to heaven. I came out struggling under the weight of books. (I think she charged me a dollar.) And bused it home with a two year old in tow. (Some of those books were his too.)

My husband thought I was a nut but he loved me anyways.

To make a long story short, I still have those books and read them all. Some of them are from my FAVORITE authors. This year, that two year who followed me in Honolulu is now twelve and he read the first of my treasures.

Ender's Game

In order to develop a secure defense against a hostile alien race's next attack, government agencies breed child geniuses and train them as soldiers. A brilliant young boy, Andrew "Ender" Wiggin lives with his kind but distant parents, his sadistic brother Peter, and the person he loves more than anyone else, his sister Valentine. Peter and Valentine were candidates for the soldier-training program but didn't make the cut--young Ender is the Wiggin drafted to the orbiting Battle School for rigorous military training.

Ender's skills make him a leader in school and respected in the Battle Room, where children play at mock battles in zero gravity. Yet growing up in an artificial community of young soldiers, Ender suffers greatly from isolation, rivalry from his peers, pressure from the adult teachers, and an unsettling fear of the alien invaders. His psychological battles include loneliness, fear that he is becoming like the cruel brother he remembers, and fanning the flames of devotion to his beloved sister.

Is Ender the general Earth needs? But Ender is not the only result of the genetic experiments. The war with the Buggers has been raging for a hundred years, and the quest for the perfect general has been underway for almost as long. Ender's two older siblings are every bit as unusual as he is, but in very different ways. Between the three of them lie the abilities to remake a world. If the world survives, that is.

Winner of the Hugo and Nebula Awards.

He loved it! Did a book report on it and got an A+ and best of all, his friends want to read it too. My copy is now coverless and bedraggled but it's been passed along to another generation. I'm happy.

Before I pass on any of my other treasures, I'll introduce him to my second favortie book.

The Protector

Phssthpok the Pak had been traveling for most of his thirty-two thousand years. His mission: save, develop, and protect the group of Pak breeders sent out into space some two and a half million years before...

Brennan was a Belter, the product of a fiercely independent, somewhat anarchic society living in, on, and around an outer asteroid belt. The Belters were rebels, one and all, and Brennan was a smuggler. The Belt worlds had been tracking the Pak ship for days -- Brennan figured to meet that ship first...

He was never seen again -- at least not by those alive at the time.

Stacey's book binge!

2012-01-08T07:00:00.003-05:00

I have been on a bit of a book buying binge lately. I’ve been sick with a horrible cold, which means less writing and more spare time. I must admit that I’ve really missed reading. I’ve been so busy with my nose stuck in my laptop that I haven’t had time to enjoy what I love most…reading!

So I ordered some books, curled up with a warm blanket and was ready to dive into a good story. Then the unthinkable happened. I was bored out of my mind. *gasps* I know! Have I just been away for too long that I couldn’t get into a story? I’m usually a pretty easy reader to please. As long as there is a good story I can overlook little issues, but I found myself doing the one thing that makes me cringe…the DNF!

You got it! I didn’t finish more than three books in a row. I was seriously worried for a bit that I lost interest in reading. That somehow I didn’t enjoy it as much as I used to. But then I came across two fantastic books that helped me out of my stink!

Keri Arthur’s, Darkness Unbound.

For all of those who know me know that I’m a huge (understatement) fan of Keri Arthur! I adored the Riley Jenson series. So I had no doubt that when I picked up her new Dark Angels series that I would once again be captivated. Ms. Arthur didn’t disappoint me. I devoured both Darkness Bound and Darkness Rising in a matter of days. *sigh* Yes, I’m eagerly awaiting the next one to come out.

So I found my happy place in reading again. I went to pick up my next book that I’d bought and…it happened again. I found myself trying to force myself to read it. It wasn’t that the books were in any way bad, because they were written so well and the plot was intriguing, but for some reason I couldn’t read on. I was in a total funk!

Of course, my favorite authors like Jeaniene Frost and Katie MacAlister will always keep me happy, but I need more authors to read, which leads me to the next treasure I found.

Jennifer L. Armentrout’s, Obsidian.

It’s been quite some time since I've read a book and found myself unable to put it down. I read every single chance I had, which brought me back to the place that I love to be—totally sucked into a story. I couldn’t walk away from it. Even when I did, I only wanted to go back and read more. Plus the fact that Daemon had me going back and forth between wanting to hit him and then had me melting made each word a thrilling experience to read. Something very special exists between Daemon and Katy. Something I haven't seen between two characters in a long time. A spark that was so captivating that I hung on every word of this story. The next book in this series cannot come fast enough! Like I need it NOW!

So…if you’re looking for a new read and haven’t picked these ones up yet, go now. Don’t look back. Outstanding books!

~Stacey

http://www.staceykennedy.com

Goals or Resolutions?

2012-01-07T07:56:00.003-05:00

I’m always asked around this time of year if I have New Year’s Resolutions. And the answer will always be the same. No.

I have goals.

Well, what’s the difference, you say? To start with, I’ve always had goals and I don’t have to have a special day of the year to create a new one. Several times during the year I revaluate where I am, adjust, and in most cases, continue to move forward with my plans.

It just so happens that a time for revaluation is here.

What are my ongoing goals?

Step up my self-promotion efforts. Maybe a redesign of the website and I might be looking for a couple co-bloggers to help me keep my blogs more active. Part of this effort will be to get offline, out into the public in person and maybe get flash made up to give away. T-shirts, bookmarks, book covers and other fun give-aways.

To finish and submit my next two Blown Away stories, Bomb Voyage and Collateral Lives.

To finish two of my planned indie stories. (The titles are a secret.)

To finish the first book in my young adult series and submit to an agent.

I have one other story I want to submit to an agent, that if all goes as planned this year, I should be doing that. But… There’s always a but, isn’t there? I’ll get back to that in a bit.

Finish and submit my science fiction launch story. Got two weeks left to get it in and damned if I don’t keep adding more. At this rate I’ll never finish it.

The bit about the agents has always been a goal. But as the print industry seems to be taking a nosedive, and those high dollar publishing contracts are becoming nothing more than a writer’s wet dream, I might have to make a few adjustments. I have to sit back and ask myself what an agent can offer me. Can they still nail that contract? I do have dreams, so I might still do it, but I’m not putting my entire year behind it. Again, the idea is to keep moving forward.

That’s the difference between goals and resolutions. Goals are real world plans for your future, something you keep in mind every day, you constantly strive to reach, and they are as much a part of your day as say, washing the dishes. They can change, are not set in stone, but one thing remains consistent. You move forward with them.

If you set your goals right, you will have several baby steps you have to take to reach one. Once you reach it, you adjust and start the baby steps again, always moving forward.

Resolutions are things you say you’d like to do, that you may or may not follow through on, but you don’t have fully developed battle plans for. You don’t look at them every day and question if you are on track with your plans. You made them on the spur of a moment, and sometimes after one too many drinks.

So, do you have goals? What are they and how do you continue to move forward with them? Do you look at them every day? Are they attainable? Not necessarily easy, but can you reach them? No? Maybe you should lower them, set baby steps and once you reach that goal, then reach higher.

Whatever they are, you need to do two things to make them work for you.

#1. Write them down.
#2. Look at them every day and question if you are on track, or have you veered off course.

Dreams aren't always handed to us. Most of the time they have to be earned, and truly, something you work hard for, makes it all the more sweet when you suceed.

Have a great weekend.

D L

It's Friday

2012-01-06T11:39:00.000-05:00

Made no New Year's resolutions but hoped I'd have better luck with computers and anything else electrical. NOT! My wash machine took a dump last week, literally. Thank goodness for small loads and a great basement drain. Now, to replace it...*SIGH* I'm shopping for one today, wish me luck!

In the meantime, I've got a story coming to Razor's Edge Press. A Thirst to Die For is a continuation of Thirsty. If you missed Thirsty, it's available at Changeling Press as well as ARe. Here's a teaser:

“Must be a cold day in hell. You haven’t come here alone in ages. Losing your touch or what?”

Since Nolan had been asked to keep an eye on the club, and on the devilishly handsome man behind the bar, he almost never visited without someone to make his evening more exciting. Giving Omen’s owner, Peris, a long, appraising look, Nolan’s cock twitched in regret. He’d been too busy lately.

“You asking to be touched? ‘Cause I can do that, and make you like it.” Nolan sat on his normal stool at the end of the long, shiny wooden bar, and eyed too many empty tables. “Where is everyone?”

“Resting up from their wicked weekend. And you wouldn’t know what to do with that cold dick up this hot ass.”

The sound of the swinging door distracted them both.

God damn, the woman was striking. Tall, curvaceous, with dark brown hair to her ass. An ass that cried out to be fucked. Christ. Nolan’s cock came alive. So did every other part of his body, which took a lot of doing, considering he’d been dead too many years to count.

Peris chuckled from the other side of the counter, giving his balls a noticeable squeeze. “Looks like a live one to me. I might make a play for her myself.”

“Not unless you’re looking forward to visiting relatives.” Peris had connections to the hierarchy below, but with the dark one’s permission, Nolan would send the young man to Hell in a heartbeat.

Nolan had been called lots of things -- dead, undead, bloodsucker, motherfucker -- and he lived up to every one of them. He was a Slayer, and he was the best. “Get the lady a beer. Let’s see what she does with it.”

Watching the woman make her way to the bar, he took a deep breath. Human. Omen’s wasn’t a place humans popped into often, and for good reason. The cloying feeling of imminent danger was prevalent, a vibe even the shallowest human sensed the minute they entered the establishment.

This one ignored it, so she must be looking for something. Or someone. The blood pulsing through her gorgeous body would soon be running through his veins. Wouldn’t kill her. Vamps didn’t do that anymore. Okay, some did, but they were the ones he took out of play, and he enjoyed every minute of it.

She slid onto a stool at the opposite end of the bar, and it felt like she’d plopped into his lap. Cum slipped from the slit on his dick, which jerked violently inside his designer slacks. He reached up to loosen a button or two at the collar of the stark white silk shirt he wore. Getting into her panties, if she wore any, was going to be pure joy. After fucking her senseless, he’d taste her -- just a little bit if she was worth another ride. If not, he’d have a full meal before sending her home.

Peris delivered a cold brew and a glass and turned away, pretending to straighten the bottles of liquor on display. Nolan, adjusting his heightened vision, gazed right into her eyes when she looked his way. One hazel, one brown -- not something he saw often. Tipping the bottle toward him, she smiled and nodded before putting it to her lips. No glass! Excellent. A cock sucker, and he’d bet every year he had lived she was a good one. When her pink tongue darted through painted red lips, wrapped around the top of the bottle and licked it clean, he made his move.

Easing into her mind, he sifted through all the day’s clutter. Such tiny panties. With a groan that lodged in his throat, he backed out, sniffing at the air. Sweet. What he’d unearthed in her mind made his dead heart beat like a drum. Fantasies should be played out, and he intended to help with hers.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

CRAFT: Gut Check

2012-01-05T06:28:00.000-05:00

It seems as if there's been a glut of instances lately where authors are behaving badly in reaction to reviews. I can't speak to the author's motives but I know this business can take a toll on you, personally and professionally. The trick is knowing when to let it affect you.

Bottom line? Going after a reviewer who gives your books a bad rating is never (times 1000) a good idea. IMO, reviews aren't for authors, they're for readers. Granted an author is a reader, but when it comes to your book, you're not a reader now are you? The best thing you can do it brush off the review and move on.

Better yet, don't worry about reviews.

Say what?

You heard me.

When it comes to moving your career forward is a one star review something you should let drive you or that detailed rejection letter you have sitting in your inbox that offers suggestions on how to fix some issues they noticed? Personally, I know what I'd listen to. A one star review on a book you've already published isn't going to end-all-be-all of your writing career. The key wording there is "book you've already published".

Yeah, that one star review may sting a bit, but guess what? You've beaten some odds. You published a book. Proof you won part of a battle other people are still fighting. Doesn't this mean that I think you shouldn't worry about what people are going to think about your book and there should be free reign over what you publish? Um, no. I read an article yesterday about dumpster erotica. Yeah, you read that correctly. Dumpster erotica. Even me, who is about as open-minded as they come, cringed a little. But my guess is there's a target audience for it somewhere. And undoubtedly someone will give it rave reviews. And someone else will undoubtedly trash (ha!) it.

That's just the nature of the business.

See a bad review for one of your books? Gut check yourself. Don't jump immediately, acting out of emotion. Take a step back and give your brain time to kick in so if you do feel as if you need to respond (though my advice is that you don't) that you can offer up a professional response that won't get you splashed (or trashed) around the 'net as someone who is volatile. The Key? Think long term. Ask yourself, if I lash out at this reviewer irrationally, is that going to hurt my career in the long run--remember, the internet is forever? Most of the time the answer is going to be yes.

That's when you turn around, walk away from the computer and simply keep writing your next book.

First Read of the New Year

2012-01-04T01:00:00.002-05:00

While I'm not sure if there's any truth to the whole "how you start your new year is how you'll finish it", I'm hoping that's the case. I was so deep in my current WIP (A Feast of Souls, Araneae Nation, Book Two) that I missed the countdown.

Still, if that's a hint of things to come I'll take it. I have plans for two more books this year and keeping my butt in the chair and hands on the keyboard is the only way that's going to happen.

The other thing I'm hoping is trend-setting is what I was reading. It should come as no surprise I was nose-deep in a fantasy title. Urban fantasy this time. Angela James told me I should read Magic Bites (Kate Daniels, Book One), so I am. LOL

Atlanta would be a nice place to live, if it weren’t for magic… One moment magic dominates, and cars stall and guns fail. The next, technology takes over and the defensive spells no longer protect your house from monsters. Here skyscrapers topple under onslaught of magic; werebears and werehyenas prowl through the ruined streets; and the Masters of the Dead, necromancers driven by their thirst of knowledge and wealth, pilot blood-crazed vampires with their minds. In this world lives Kate Daniels. Kate likes her sword a little too much and has a hard time controlling her mouth. The magic in her blood makes her a target, and she spent most of her life hiding in plain sight. But when Kate’s guardian is murdered, she must choose to do nothing and remain safe or to pursue his preternatural killer. Hiding is easy, but the right choice is rarely easy…

How about y'all? How did you ring in the new year? Any new series you started reading you've been putting off? Or new authors you just discovered?

Time Warped-A Review

2012-01-03T01:00:00.000-05:00

For the record, while I read books CONSTANTLY, I almost never review them publically. Why? Well, because as a writer I find it goes against my instincts to want to support other writers if I say anything at all that could be construed as unflattering about their work. Also, I am always worried about hurting someone’s feeling since I was once asked to review a book, I did, honestly, because I don’t see the point of un-truthful reviews, and that person got angry wit me.

But, Tracey L Pacelli contacted me on Facebook and asked me to review her book entitled Time Warped and I agreed to do it, as long as she understood that I would give the book my fairest review and that might not be glowing. She said she wanted truthful reviews and we agreed that I’d post my review here.

So, now that you have background as to why Rebecca Royce is reviewing a book.

Now for a blurb:

In her Bible-thumping town, Lanie Landry is a teen misfit without a cause. After a tragic accident that kills her adopted mother, Lanie escapes from the hospital where she was admitted for psychological observation. At a service station she accepts shelter from a kindly old woman.

The next morning she awakens to find herself in the violent ward of an insane asylum in 1969. How can she escape this horrible nightmare? Remarkably, in the most awful of all places, Lanie finds her biological mother and falls in love with a mysterious inmate.

My review:

I really enjoyed this book. I think overall Ms. Pacelli created a unique world with a character I enjoyed spending time with.

The beginning of the book particularly shined for me. I loved the descriptions of her mother, the principal, and ultimately her too-perky psychiatrist. I loved how she described Satan calling to her from the box to pull the fire alarm.

She’s a quirky character, quick to judge and fast with a snarky remark. I could feel that she was a misfit in her home and the level of desperation she had to be enduring.

The scenes do jump from one to the next without a lot of warning that we are changing locations. I sometimes had a hard time figuring out where we were in relation to time and space. But, the book is called Time Warped. I came to believe that some of the disjointed feelings the book gave me where purposeful. That’s how the main character is feeling as well.

I think that snarky has been somewhat over done in UF and YA in general but while I felt that Lanie sometimes approached that line, for me she never crossed it.

I highly recommend this book and I expect to see great things from this author. Thanks for asking me to review it.

2011 Books I Enjoyed

2012-01-02T06:14:00.001-05:00

Not a top ten list. It would be too difficult to chose but these are some of my favorites that I read in the last year. Not including the unpublished ones I've read. I can't disclose those.

I'll give you the cover, blurb, and a link to my review. I don't review professionally but I decided to add my opinions to goodreads. If I didn't think the book rated a three star or more then I usually didn't bother writing a review for it. Bad reviews hurt, I know from personal experience so I keep those to myself.

I may have already mentioned some of these books over the year and if I had, well good for that author for making such an impression on me!

Vampire hunter Elena Deveraux knows she is the best- but she does not know if even she is good enough for this job. Hired by the dangerously beautiful archangel Raphael, a being so lethal that no mortal wants his attention, Elena knows failure is not an option—even if the task is impossible.

Because this time, it's not a wayward vamp she has to track. It's an archangel gone bad.

The job will put Elena in the midst of a killing spree like no other—and pull her to the razor's edge of passion. Even if the hunt does not destroy her, succumbing to Raphael’s seductive touch just might. For when archangels play, mortals break.

My Review

I just discovered Nalini Singh this year. I haven't read any of her other series but I really do love this one. I've read and reviewed them all.

The severed head marked by a distinctive tattoo on its cheek should have been a Guild case, but dark instincts honed over hundreds of years of life compel the vampire Dmitri to take control. There is something twisted about this death, something that whispers of centuries long past...but Dmitri's need to discover the truth is nothing to the vicious strength of his response to the hunter assigned to decipher the tattoo.

Savaged in a brutal attack that almost killed her, Honor is nowhere near ready to come face to face with the seductive vampire who is an archangel's right hand, and who wears his cruelty as boldly as his lethal sensuality...the same vampire who has been her secret obsession since the day she was old enough to understand the inexplicable, violent emotions he aroused in her.

As desire turns into a dangerous compulsion that might destroy them both, it becomes clear the past will not stay buried. Something is hunting...and it will not stop until it brings a blood-soaked nightmare to life once more.

My Review

I read this book twice.

Living as a succubus has a bit of a learning curve, but with sexy fallen angel Noah to scratch her sensual Itch, Jackie Brighton is finally starting to feel ahead of the game. She almost doesn’t miss her gorgeous vampire master Zane—or his sinful, teasing mouth. She’s trying to convince herself of that, anyway.
But Jackie’s past mistakes catch up with her, spinning her life out of control once more. Just as her friend Remy’s inner demon comes out to play, Noah and Jackie are arrested by the angelic Serim Council. When Jackie seizes the chance to escape, she falls right into Zane’s waiting arms. As she’s pulled into a game of cat and mouse between vampires and angels, she finds she must also choose between the two men in her life. Can she decide between Noah and Zane, or will she lose everything she’s ever wanted? Because there’s more at stake than just her heart.

My Review

I read all of this series and the third was the best.

I was raised for battle. And as the first daughter of a warrior family, I've earned my reputation the hard way. Yet now I fight alongside uncivilized male Northland dragons who think a female is only good for breeding and waiting back home in the cave. But it's the foolish and foolhardy who would try to stop me, Rhona the Fearless, from doing what I do best—destroying the enemies of my kind.

So the smartest thing wily barbarian Vigholf the Abhorrent can do for me is stay out of my way as we risk all on a deadly mission in enemy territory. I don't care if he's fascinated by me, even though he is as attractive as he is resourceful. He's having far too much fun putting me in difficult situations and testing my sense of duty to the limit. And I'm going to enjoy challenging his insufferable confidence, outwitting his schemes, and making him surrender in the wildest ways. . .

"Sexy and outrageous humor. " —Romantic Times

My Review

For two hundred years, Dominicus has lived in isolation, sentenced to take human souls to hell. But this night’s victim is unlike all the others. She tempts him. One kiss and she comes apart in his arms. One taste, and he can’t walk away.

But Maggie isn’t the only temptation he faces. Dominicus fights an attraction to Renatus, his best friend through the eons and a male with whom sex is forbidden. With her, he risks Hell, with him, losing the only piece of Heaven he has left.

Maggie cannot begin to understand what Dominicus has done. Demons covet her soul and Lucifer won’t give up his prize. In claiming her, he’s not only compounded his sin, he’s sparked a war between Heaven and Hell. Angels battle demons, and Dominicus must make a choice. Does he deliver to Lucifer the human whose soul calls to him and ensure his salvation, or save her and risk eternal damnation?

Reader Advisory: Contains passionate lip-locks between two male angels, hot enough to singe your feathers off.

My Review

Hmm...I'm seeing a theme here I didn't notice until writing this blog. When did I develope an angel fetish?!?

Any good reads you discovered in the past year that you'd like to pass along to me? I'm always shopping for a new obession.

http://www.annienicholas.com/

New release - SUPERNATURALLY KISSED

2012-01-01T07:00:00.001-05:00

WOO HOO! Anyone who knows me knows that I've been counting down the days until Supernaturally Kissed released and it's finally HERE! This story was originally a self-published title called Stolen Dreams. When I had the chance to put the book with Ellora's Cave, I jumped on it. I truly wanted what was best for the book and I knew that my editor would help me do right by Tess & Kipp.

To say I'm excited about this book being back out there is an understatement. I've missed these characters and I'm super happy to be able to share them with everyone. If you get a chance to check out the story, I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!

Ghosts harass and annoy Tess Jennings to save their souls. Sometimes she helps them. Other times she ignores them. But one ghost will give her no choice.

Kipp McGowen, a cop with the Memphis Police Department, will stop at nothing to gain her help, including using his ghostly charms to seduce her.

Tess must help solve the five year old cold case of Hannah Reid, because solving the case will save Kipp. But a bigger problem presents itself. Tess is falling in love with a ghost. Now she must decide. Keep Kipp forever or find the killer…

REVIEWS:

5 – An Alpha Howl – Bitten by Paranormal Romance – Top Bite Award ~ “Stacey knows how to write a delightful and witty romance. In this novella Stacey takes this hero and heroine into a world wind romance that leaves you wanting more at the end and I loved reading every bit of it. I read this one before under a previous title and really enjoyed reading it, all but the ending because it was a cliffhanger ugh. *pouting* I hate cliffhangers lol. This time around I enjoyed it even more because Stacey re-wrote the ending and made it fantastic, but more to the point no cliffhanger;) I can’t wait to see where she’s going to take this ghost storyline next.”

5 STARS – Romancing the Darkside ~ “The romance was a perfect package of sweet, sensual and erotic. Tess and Kipp will touch your hearts and have you fanning yourself with their passion. A little suspense, humor and steamy romance make Supernaturally Kissed a read you’ll want to pick up and not put down until you reach the last page!”

5 SKULLS – Literal Addiction ~ "There is a whole lot of mystery, intrigue, and romance in Supernaturally Kissed, which will leave you with feelings of surprise, frustration, shock, tenderness, trepidation, longing, and a whole smattering of other emotions along with plenty of laughter, which makes this murder mystery unlike most others.”

A RATING – Smitten with Reading ~ “Did I love this book? OMG, YES! This is a paranormal, but so completely different from most paranormals that are on the market right now. This book is incredibly creative and entertaining. It remains a light, fun read while at the same time, it’s a suspenseful book dealing with the seriousness of life and death. This is a ghost story, but it is not creepy at all. It’s a sweet and seriously sexy paranormal romance!”

READ EXCERPT | BUY LINK | ADD TO YOUR GOODREADS SHELF

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T05:48:00.001-05:00

Since my family is here, and my granddaughter is helping me to write this, er pounding on the keyboard, I'll keep this short. Happy New Year to all. This year has been a tough one for me and I think the biggest thing I'm looking forward to, is the end, and a start to a fresh new one. Anything special you're looking for in 2012?

It's Friday

2011-12-30T11:10:00.000-05:00

...and time for New Year's resolutions. AGAIN!

There's just over 24 hours left to come up with them!! A few I've been hearing are: be nicer, eat less or better, exercise more, lower that cholestrol the doc's been badgering about, call mom or dad more, be on time for work, work less, spend more time with the kids, the husband, the family. There are many more: don't hang out with the guys/girls too often, drink less, take that new yoga class, learn to dance, use less water, recycle more, even wash windows more often. The list goes on and on. Hurry, hurry, only a little time left. But don't worry...

You'll have all year to break them! *laughing*

CHECK OUT http://www.decibelmagazine.com/lists/extremely-extreme-new-years-resolutions-2011/

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

Two new stories coming soon.

2011-12-24T07:56:00.002-05:00

I recently contracted two short stories for Decadent Publishing's Edge series. No covers yet and no release date, but I am in the editing stage. The third story in this group is in the writing stage. This will be a triology with the same hero and heroine in all three.

Here are the blurbs:

Carnal Desires

When Mercedes, the town librarian, enters a place no good girl would dare to tread, she meets a man who says he’s an incubus, who has an offer too tempting to pass. After the encounter with the stranger, sanity returns and Mercedes begins to wonder if she’s lost her mind along with her memory, or was the man in the back of the adult toy store really who he claimed to be?

Carnal Attraction

Thousands of years have passed. Azael has returned to Jezebel, and he’s brought her memories with him. Now that Jezebel has them back, she doesn’t intend to lose them again by starving herself of life energies. So, when she encounters a broken heart in the seedy strip club where she works, she knows dinner will be special that night. This time, the feeding will be on her terms, and the man who’s wandered into her snare, shouldn’t miss the small bite of soul she takes.

Much.

Have a wonderful holiday, everyone.

D L

it's Friday

2011-12-23T11:28:00.000-05:00

I love to look at beautiful homes, but you couldn't give me the the most beautiful home in the world if it was, eventually, going to be surrounded by snow! I'm dreading the thought of the first Nor'easter, the first flake (I guess that should be second flake since we've had a snow this year), the first ice storm, and so forth, and so on. I don't like cold weather, and thank goodness there are enough others who do appreciate it to keep the "different strokes for different folks" theory alive and well. Heck, if we all craved the heat, there wouldn't be enough space in the warm spots. Let's back up a bit. Would I accept a beautiful ski chalet if you gave it to me? Hell yes... and I'd sell it to the first snow bunny that came along (real cheap too!) so I could find my place in the sun. :)

However, snow seems to be synonymous with the upcoming holidays, so the following pretty places are for all the winter lovers who seek the perfect powder to snow board, ski, or make snow angels!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL

That is a basketball court!
Link to full story by Colleen Kane, CNBC.com: http://realestate.yahoo.com/promo/inside-the-5-most-luxurious-ski-homes.html
Photo credits: Dena Fleming CHIN | MACQUOID | FLEMING | HARRIS Prudential Utah Real Estate
Craig Morris of Morris & Fyrwald Sotheby’s International Realty
Cam Boyd and Pam Vanatta, Prudential Steamboat Realty

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-

J. Hali Steele

A Return to Paranormal

2011-12-22T06:23:00.003-05:00

Last week was a bit of a frantic week for me as I had two books release within a day of each other. Things have calmed back down a little but of course, it's just in time to gear up for the holidays. Luckily today is my last day of work until after the new year!

But I did want to talk about one of my new releases last week, because it was a return, of sorts, for me to paranormal. Everything I've released since July of this year has been where I seem to gotten the most comfortable--erotic romance w/ elements of BDSM. But I started out publishing in paranormal/urban fantasy romance. I'm not certain if my brain needed a bit of a break from the two genres I was playing around with the most at the time (futuristic/sci-fi & contemporary) but I pulled up an old file I had sitting within the depths of my hard drive. It was a paranormal romance I'd started very early last year. But I abandoned it when I couldn't seem to get the storyline to work as I wanted to. Something about it just wasn't right.

The story was to be of a female doctor who lost a patient (a child) on the table in her emergency room. It's not the first time and it's happened frequently enough recently, it breaks her. She flees to an old Gothic church in downtown Chicago where she seeks solace inside the building. Stressed and feeling as if she has nowhere else to turn, she falls asleep in one of the pews. The POV switches to a beat cop standing over her and he's not all that he seems to be. He's not actually a beat cop, but a watcher/guardian for the doctor. An immortal of sorts who is tasked with watching over humanity to keep it from destroying itself. And therein enter the paranormal aspect - by day he is a gargoyle on the outside of the church.

I had other bits and pieces from there, but reading over what I had down, I'd realized I'd approached the story wrong, had the wrong characters and even had the whole scope of what I wanted to do wrong. So I took the concept of what I intended and started again. And the results of my second go at the story was released last week from Ellora's Cave under their Spectrum Line - GLBT. Quite the change...

Ellora’s Cave || Amazon || All Romance eBooks

Brady thrives on saving patients in his busy emergency room, but when things don’t go according to plan, nothing prepares him for a chance encounter. There’s something familiar, and mysterious, about the downright sexy-as-hell stranger he encounters on a busy Chicago street.

In Garrett’s world there are no coincidences. He’s been standing as the doctor’s secret guardian for years. Driven by a burning need Brady unknowingly awakened more than a decade ago, Garrett finally breaks his silence. He steps in to show Brady there’s more to life than rescuing those in need.

Roused by their desperate passion for one another, their desire reaches an explosive breaking point. Brady realizes one night isn’t enough, but Garrett is bound by rules he can’t change. Now Brady’s healing touch may save more than just a life—it may just save Garrett’s soul.

~*~

Can I just add here that this novella wrecked me emotionally for a few days after I finished the first draft. Going through my personal edits wasn't so bad because I knew what to expect. However, I got a few months reprieve from it while my editor considered the submission and when she accepted it, it didn't even dawn on me that I was going to have to read the story again a few times for edits. Needless to say, I was wreck again the first round of edits. *g*

Facebook is a Changin'

2011-12-21T20:11:00.000-05:00

This week I bit the bullet and upgraded my personal Facebook page to the new Timeline. As much as I'd like to fight it, I think about it like this. My FB page is for work. I need that page to be as current as possible so that it shines when I have visitors. I am saddened that means the old elongated profile is no longer visible, except on pages, and the banner option is now gone as well. We do get a nifty area at the top of our FB profiles with area for a header, or what FB is calling a "cover".

So this is how my new page looks...

I'll no doubt tinker with it more, later. For now, I'm just happy it matches my author page. The new template looks something like this:

It was very difficult to achieve imagine clarity with this. For whatever reason, I kept getting blurred or grainy results. With this size template, it worked. So I'm going to use this template from here on out. You're given the option to drag the image to center it, and as you can see from the first picture, I maximized the amount of room you're allowed for content. So I recommend using a similar template on a similar scale so your images will have at least a fraction of their original clarity.

Has anyone else swapped to Timeline? What do you think of it?

New Cover Goodness

2011-12-20T01:00:00.000-05:00

I just thought I'd show off my new cover today. It is for a 1NS short story I've written called Rebirth. If you read One Night With A Wolf, this is Joe's younger sister Carly's story. And guess what? Yep. Its a vampire story.

Can't wait to share it with all of you!

A Visit From the Boys of Christmas

2011-12-19T02:40:00.002-05:00

HAPPY HOLIDAYS ALL!

Short Bread Cookie recipe with video.

Don't forget to pick up your FREE copy of BAIT at these following links. My Christmas gift to all.

Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bait-annie-nicholas/1100245217?ean=2940011209499&itm=1&usri=annie+nicholas

All formats including mobi for Kindle: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-bait-516185-139.html

http://www.annienicholas.com/

A Book Lover’s Holiday by Jess Macallan

2011-12-18T07:00:00.002-05:00

*Jess has kindly offered an ebook copy of STONE COLD SEDUCTION.
Open internationally!*

Hello Paranormal Romantics! I’m thrilled to be here today. The holidays are upon us, and if you’re anything like me, you still have a lot to do. Don’t get me wrong, I love the whirlwind of activity, and I love when it’s over. I have extra compassion and patience for fellow shoppers (which is easy when you shop online). I love snow days because it means I can stay inside and read. And I especially love gift giving. There’s nothing better than picking out the perfect gift and seeing the recipient glow with appreciation.

If I have to shop in a brick and mortar store, I try to make it a bookstore. My gift-giving list this year included calendars, a journal, stocking stuffers, a magazine subscription, and books (naturally). While I’m there, I indulge in a hot drink and sit back to people watch. I love seeing shoppers with arms full of books. There’s magic in the season and books truly illustrate that. When you gift a book to a loved one, you’re opening up a new world, new friends, and possibly even new ideas for them.

When I receive a gift certificate for a bookstore, I feel like a kid in a candy store. Where do I start? A sweet romance? Dark and sexy urban fantasy? A new mystery maybe? The possibilities are endless. After I have my new book in hand, I savor every page, much like a box of chocolates. Except better, because I can reread a great book as many times as I please.

Some of my personal favorites to gift are:

1) The Mercy Thompson series by Patricia Briggs. This is one of my favorite urban fantasy series of all time. Shifters, werewolves, vamps, and fae...’nuff said.

2) The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordian. This is a great middle grade series even adults will enjoy. Egyptian mythology and lots of action adds up to an entertaining series.

3) The Eat Clean Diet by Tosca Reno for all of the New Year’s resolution enthusiasts.

4) The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. This book is perfect for creative types.

5) A blank journal for recording dreams, wishes and everything in between.

It’s the thrill of turning a new page and exploring a new world that lead me to give books as gifts. Books are my escape, my addiction and my pleasure all wrapped into one. I can only hope everyone else finds their perfect book and experiences the same.

What was the best book-related gift you’ve ever received?

About Jess Macallan

Jess lives in the Inland Northwest with her husband and three children. She thrives on creative chaos. Curiosity drives her to try new things as often as possible. When not writing or chasing trouble, she teaches yoga, reads, runs a mini farm, watches MMA and gardens. The only things she takes seriously are chocolate, tea and world domination. But mostly chocolate.

About STONE COLD SEDUCTION

“Elle. It’s just Elle.”

When a regular night of Robin Hood-ery results in the manifestation of some, um, unusual paranormal abilities, perfume-maker Elleodora Fredricks realizes the normal world she lives in isn’t quite… normal. And neither is she, thanks to her father, king of the shadow elves. Not only is he evil incarnate and the reason Elle moonlights as a burglar—someone has to take care of all his victims—he’s stolen her memories.

And only reading her fate can fix that.

Good thing she’s got a trio of hotties willing to help her find said fate. Saving her oracle BFF’s fiancée, falling in love with the gargoyle, and making up for breaking the phoenix’s heart ought to be a piece of cake for the princess of the shadow elves.

If only the king didn’t want his daughter dead…

An excerpt from STONE COLD SEDUCTION

“You are my true mate.”

My lips were still tingling, and my brain was fuzzy. “Jax, I’m not sure what that means.”

He didn’t answer, but instead pressed a kiss to my temple. And another to my cheek. Slowly, he nuzzled his way to my neck. I let my head drop to one side, giving him better access.

He whispered his approval, and lightly nipped at my neck. “It is a connection between souls. A bond determined by fate. I will show you what it means.”

His lips and tongue were doing a slow, erotic dance along the oh-so-sensitive skin down my neck, and coherent thought was impossible. He could show me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop.

I sighed, and Jax took that as acceptance. Before I knew what he was going to do, he’d scooped me up and was halfway up the stairs.

“Jax!” I yelped.

He stopped, but his muscles were vibrating with energy. He waited until he had my full attention before repeating, “I will show you. We are mates, connected in ways you and the phoenix will never be.”

His silver eyes were bright and intense. I could admit to having had many, many fantasies where he’d carried me upstairs, and all sorts of amazing things had happened. But this was real. And he was dead serious. It scared me, thrilled me, and seriously confused me.

When I didn’t respond, he lowered my feet to the floor and pressed me up against the wall in the narrow stairwell. His eyes held mine as he leaned close. “I will show you, so there are no doubts.”

Then he kissed me again, and this time, he held nothing back. Possession, need, and barely leashed control. Jax’s mouth told me more than words ever could. He leaned against me so our bodies were in full contact. Need burned through me. His taste, his touch, drowned out my worries. His scent surrounded me. He smelled crisp and clean. Like a sunny, winter day. But the heat he created inside me was intense. Just like the man himself.

Paranormal With a Cause

2011-12-17T05:51:00.000-05:00

It's always hard to follow an act with the weather warming tips that J likes to post. But I shall endeavor to do my best--or I can just introduce our guest blogger this Saturday.

Please help me give a warm welcome to paranormal author Seleste Delaney, who is posting not only today to entertain us, but to raise some money for a great cause. It's all yours, Seleste.

The holidays are upon us. Quite literally. Today is the day my little family of four opens gifts. We’re topping the day with a concert tonight from a local guy who’s taking Nashville by storm (and puts on one hell of a show). Within the next few days, Hanukkah starts, Yule occurs, and then Christmas Eve & Christmas, followed closely by Kwanzaa. (If I missed your holiday, apologies…)

It is the busiest time of the year for most people. Sometimes in that frenzy of activity, we forget a couple things:

1) Take time for yourself. You might not have time for a mani/pedi or a massage or whatever helps you relax, but a soak in the tub or curling up by the fire (or in a blanket) with a book can make a world of difference in both your productivity and your outlook on the season. Stress makes the holidays fun for no one. So be sure to take care of yourself in the midst of taking care of everyone else.

2) Often when we’re busy thinking about cooking, baking and gift buying, we forget about those in need and worthy causes. Don’t forget to take a moment to give to something you believe in and spread the magic of the season around. Again, you’ll feel better for it.

What does this have to do with the paranormal? After all, the magic of the season is usually relegated to virgin births and a jolly old elf being pulled through the sky by flying deer. But every year, more and more authors are embracing the season to bring you stories set in the worlds of their creation. The supernatural is no exception to this.

The Ghost of Vampire Present deals with a ghost and a trio of vampires visiting a woman named Jocelyn. In A Christmas Carol, Scrooge receives a different but similar group of visitors that teach him how important his place in the world is in order to make him change his outlook on life. The ghost and vampires in The Ghost of Vampire Present do something very similar for Jocelyn, or at the very least begin to cement her place in the vampire world.

I’ve been told it’s a fun read, and for the rest of this month, whenever you buy my paranormal novella, The Ghost of Vampire Present, Decadent Publishing will donate all their profits from the sale to the American Cancer Society. In addition, I’m donating fifty cents for every copy sold this month to Relay for Life (on top of my normal annual donation). Taking time for you and donating to a good cause all in one handy package. How’s that for holiday multi-tasking?

A huge thanks to Seleste for guest-posting today and a bigger thanks for allowing us to be a part of her Relay for Life endeavors.

Have a great Saturday,

D L

It's Friday

2011-12-16T02:55:00.000-05:00

Don't know what your weather has been like, but I haven't worn a coat yet this fall! But let's pretend it's cold. :) Maybe these will help you warm up.

Oh, if you're going to wear your pants hanging--your butt must look like this.

Warm yet?

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

Websites

2011-12-15T06:15:00.000-05:00

Rebecca asked earlier in the week about what makes you buy a book, but I pose another question. I'm in the process of coding up a re-design of my website and it's something I wonder about from a reader's perspective. I know what I'd like to see on an author's website, but I'm curious if others share my thoughts.

Tell me, what would you like to see on an author's website?

What makes you want to buy the book?

2011-12-13T07:30:00.003-05:00

Hey everyone

Today I am asking the question: What Makes You Want To Buy A Book? Is it the book cover? I buy books based on book covers. If I think something looks really nice, I go read the blurb.

Is it a book video? I love, love, love book videos but a lot of people argue that they don't sell books. When you see this book video, do you want to buy the book?

How about contests? If I offered you Amazon money or a free read today would you want to buy the book?

I ask these questions because we, as authors, we really have no idea what books will sell and why. None. We can write a best-selling series and suddenly people stop reading. All of our books can languish and then suddenly a short story we wrote fast is eating up the charts. It makes little sense to us. The best we can do is always do our best work and hope. So, I'm asking you today, what makes you buy a book?

My First Christmas Memory

2011-12-12T05:37:00.000-05:00

A long time ago, in a land far up North, it snowed like crazy on Christmas Eve. I was five years old. My parents, excited about the new snow, decided to give up some of our presents early, which turned out to be cross country skis for me and my siblings. My brother was 14 and my sister 13. Yes, there is quite an age difference between us. You can say I was a surprise or my mother's mid-life crisis.

It being a quiet day, my parents decide to take us skiing that afternoon in the local woods not far from our home.

We drove the short distance to the trails where I got the short lesson on how to cross country ski. I'd never been in these woods before and assumed my parents had. We followed the new trails made in the deep snow but an hour into our trip it started to snow again.

Still having complete faith in my parents, I concentrated on keeping the tips of my skis straight and did my best not to fall every two minutes. But eventually I got tired and noticed I wasn't the only one. My mother's voice seemed higher than normal and my father kept making stops to gaze far into the forest.

That was when my sister informed me were lost. The snow fall had hidden the tracks and we were going to die on Christmas Eve. (Gotta love older sisters)

Exhausted, I couldn't keep up anymore. My mother pulled me by my long red scarf as I whined about frozen toes and fingers. (Being a mom now, I could imagine the horror my mother must have been feeling at this moment.) The sun had set and we skied in the dark. (Yep, we'd been lost that long.) A light shone in the distance between some trees. We'd found someone's backyard and skied across it to the street light that had been our beacon.

My parents were still lost not recognizing the street name however I did. My school bus passed by here all the time. I didn't know the street names but knew certain land marks that lead us home to everyone's surprise. LOL

This is my very first Christmas memory, and unfortunately, not the only time I've been lost in the woods.

What are some of your memorable Christmas moments?

www.annienicholas.com

Are you a Dragon or a Phoenix by Boone Brux!

2011-12-11T07:00:00.000-05:00

In my newest release, Shield of Fire, the Dragon and the Phoenix play an intricate role in the story. So I decided to delve into the characteristics of both mythical creatures in regards to Chinese astrology.

The dragon is the mightiest of the symbols. They prefer to march to their own drum, make their own rules, and are driven to succeed. They tend to be morning people and prefer to take the lead on projects. In the realm of romance, dragons are willing to fall in love, but refuse to give up their independence.

Dragons are colorful, love to wear patterns and are outgoing. Their downfall is that they tend to be workaholics and have a hard time asking for help. The passion that makes a dragon so vibrant can also leave them feeling drained and unfulfilled.

The Phoenix is the king of the winged kingdom. Their strength is the ability to rejuvenate and transform to rise from the ashes. The Phoenix garners respect from others. They keep their dignity during difficult situations.

They tend to be night owls, wear dark colors, and prefer to stay behind the scene. Their downfall can be their difficulty to toot their own horns. They tend to be too nice, often times at the detriment to their own desires.

The marriage of the two symbols represents love and a happy marriage. The merging of both symbols makes for a well-rounded character.

So which are you, a Dragon, a Phoenix, or both?

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Protecting humans is the Bringers’ duty. Sending demons to the Shadow World is their pleasure.

In one night, Ravyn’s life plunges from barely tolerable to deadly. Forced to flee the only home she’s known, she stumbles headlong into the clutches of Icarus, a powerful demon intent on stealing her powers. Unfortunately for him, she has no intention of cooperating.

When Rhys realizes the woman he’s rescued from the Bane Demon is no mere human, his obligation as a Bringer dictates he protect and train her in the ways of his people. But he’s unprepared for the intense desire he feels for the fiery Ravyn. To surrender to his need may mean her death.

As the Demon King’s desire for ultimate power escalates, fathers are slated against sons, and foes are made allies. The Bane threat upon them, Rhys and Ravyn must quest to unite the last of the Bringers—and explore a passion too powerful to ignore.

EXCERPT:

Chapter One

Menda Abbey, Itta Territory, Inness
One Thousand Years after the Bane War

The demon’s gaze narrowed. “Let me see her.”

Beautiful and horrifying, Icarus moved toward Brother Powell with frightening grace. Sinewy muscles rippled under taut, black skin as he prowled toward the crumbled wall of the abbey. His leathery wings scraped the tree branches overhead and waves of ebony hair, banded with rings of gold, cradled two spiraling horns that jutted upward.

Powell glanced away, refusing to gaze into the mesmerizing, reptilian eyes.

The demon’s deep purr poured over him. “What troubles you, Brother? Are you not happy to see me?”

The monk ignored the question and swiped the cold rain from his eyes. He held the hissing torch higher to reveal a young woman. She stood unnaturally still, compelled by the monk’s hypnosis—a spell taught to him by the demon. Her thin shift clung to her bony frame, and her dull eyes stared ahead. Angela had been lovely once, but like so many, she hadn’t been woman enough to withstand the honor of his attentions. They never were, always crying and pleading to be left alone. Lucky for them, the Demon Bane preferred their sacrifices pure.

“This is not what I asked for.” The deadly calm of Icarus’s voice belied the danger of his statement. “Where is the other woman—the gifted one?”

“In her cell. She doesn’t trust me.” Powell stroked Angela’s limp, blonde hair. “But she’ll not be able to resist the cries of her closest friend.”

“For your sake, monk, I hope you are right.” Icarus held out his hand. “Come to me.”

The compulsion whispered past Powell, sweeping across his skin with the promise of pleasure. He slipped his hand under his robe and adjusted his erection.

The demon’s call slithered toward Angela and wrapped around her like a sensual net. Before the force could ensnare him as well, Powell released his hold and backed away. She glided forward.

He watched, immobilized with morbid fascination. Her progress faltered when she reached the holy ground’s boundaries. He leaned toward Angela, willing her to cross the invisible barrier.

“Come to me,” Icarus repeated.

Weak of mind and body, she lumbered forward through the opening in the wall and away from the protection of the abbey’s sanctified ground.

The demon stood before her and grasped her frail arm. With the smooth curve of his talon, he caressed Angela’s cheek.

She didn’t move.

Powell cringed, excited and repulsed at the same time. He ached for a taste of the power Icarus would give him one day.

“So pure,” Icarus crooned. He trailed his talon down her neck. “So sweet.”

Powell squeezed his holy medallion, its ornate embellishments biting deep into his skin. The pain kept him present and protected against the call of the Bane, a call he wanted to answer. Riveted, he held the torch higher, trying to shed more light on the black demon.

Icarus slid his claw lower, coming to rest between Angela’s breasts. His energy pulsed and reached for its prey. The compulsion grazed Powell’s mind. The medallion slipped from his grasp, the chain catching on his fingers to hang loose. Forgotten.

“Awaken, little bird, and let me see your fear,” Icarus whispered.

Like a parting veil, Angela’s deadened expression cleared. She gasped, frozen by the sight of the towering demon before her. She twisted and fought for her freedom. Bare heels dug into the soggy earth, but the slick grass provided no traction. Icarus jerked her hard, his hold unbreakable.

“No!” Her scream shattered the silence of the night, its echoes hanging in the air like a heavy mist.

He pressed his fingers against her heart and pricked her delicate skin.

She convulsed, her strangled cry dying in her throat. With whispers as soft as the lightest breeze, the silvery essence of her soul sighed and bled from her body. Gossamer threads slithered around Icarus’s hand like small, white snakes, encircling his arm and swirling along the planes of his rounded biceps in an achingly slow, erotically sublime dance. The demon tilted his head and closed his eyes. Angela’s shimmering purity crept up his neck and hovered at his lips. He inhaled and drew her in, stiffening as if in the throes of passion, absorbing every delicate wisp.

The intimate union between predator and prey mesmerized Powell. He crept forward, forgetting the danger. The seductive and deadly act held a perverse beauty. Powell stroked himself, dragging the rough material of his robe over his erection, losing himself in The Taking. Time had no place; the tap, tap of rain on the leaves the only disruption brave enough to break through the reticence of the night.

When the sparkling vapor faded around her heart, Icarus retracted his talons and released his hold. Angela’s body slumped to the ground, dead. He stretched and smiled, his fangs glimmering in the torchlight. “That’s better.”

Powell’s heavy breathing punctuated the quiet. His body quivered from the demon’s feral presence. As the pleasurable effect began to fade, he opened his senses and scrambled to ingest the lingering scraps of Bane essence. Its pure power raced through his body and filled his veins with an intoxicating fire.

Icarus bent and scooped up Angela’s body. Four powerful strides brought him to the abbey’s border. He heaved his burden at Powell. The monk shrieked and jumped back, his euphoric haze evaporating. Bones snapped as the body landed in a crumpled heap at his feet. Bile rose in his throat. For a fraction of a second, remorse pawed at him, but, just as quickly, the sentiment disappeared.

“Bring me the other—now.” Icarus’s wings unfurled and stretched behind him. “Do not fail me, monk.” He crouched and pinned Powell with a yellow stare. “Or I won’t be as kind to you as I was to the girl.”

Powell glanced at the broken body at his feet and swallowed hard. Meeting the demon’s stare, he nodded.

With a powerful leap, Icarus launched into the sky and was instantly swallowed by the darkness.

…

Ravyn jolted upright in bed. She pushed her mass of black curls out of her face and looked around. Had somebody screamed, or was it only her nightmares?

Darkness blanketed her cell, and rain pounded a steady beat against the ledge of her narrow window. Shivers crawled down her spine like a dozen tiny spiders. The abbey, the wind, and the rain had a natural rhythm she had come to know. Like an off-key note, she heard the wrongness of the night’s cadence.

She closed her eyes and released her awareness. It flowed down the dark corridors of the ancient abbey, seeping into the corners and rooms, making its way toward the chapel. Malevolence strummed along the mental threads of Ravyn’s consciousness as it ghosted across the chapel door. Heat skittered along her arms, awakening the protective fire within her. She flexed her fingers and relaxed into the sensation. Always the awareness was bittersweet. The same power that made her an outcast with the Sisters now rallied to protect her from the evil housed inside the supposed holy space.

She yanked her senses back and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, trying to steady herself against the draining presence. Only one evil dwelled within the abbey: Brother Powell.

Ravyn threw off the worn blanket and crammed her feet into the only pair of slippers she owned. She stood and tiptoed across her room. The cell’s heavy oak door loomed before her. Pulling on the iron handle, she prayed the hinges remained quiet for once. A soft squeak of protest pierced the silence and she flinched. Hopefully, the other girls were sound asleep. She poked her head into the corridor. Empty. Good. Their safety was one less problem to worry about.

Two sparsely placed torches threw small circles of light around themselves but did little to illuminate the passage. Ravyn darted from her room and blended with the shadows. To most, the dark passages appeared empty, but for her, people and memories of the past whispered around her, longing to tell their tales. Despite the Sisters’ efforts to beat this evilness out of her, knowing and listening had always felt right.

The spirit of a young woman materialized in front of her. Dressed in The Order’s habit, she was immediately recognizable to Ravyn as Sister Amalee. She smiled, but the ghost did not smile back. Instead, Amalee stood close, wringing her hands and shaking her head. Ravyn stepped around the spirit, not wanting to experience the staggering punch of emotion she felt when passing through the dead.

Blackness pulsated around the edges of the chapel door as Ravyn approached. The sensation of a thousand biting needles abraded her skin. She rubbed her arms, trying to scrub away the sting. The assault was all too familiar.

Powell waited inside.

She shook her arms. Tonight, his presence felt more caustic than usual. He was a venomous snake coiled within the delicate flowers of a garden.

Amalee slid forward and blocked Ravyn’s path.

“Move,” Ravyn whispered.

The ghost shook her head and held her hands out in a silent plea.

“I have to go in.”

Amalee threw her slightly transparent arms across the opening.

“You can’t stop me.” The spirit’s attempt to protect her was touching, but she needed to get inside the chapel. “Please move.”

Amalee bowed her head and folded her hands in front of her chest. Her mouth moved with a silent tirade of prayers. Without looking up, she floated forward and passed through Ravyn.

Waves of distress flowed from the center of Ravyn’s body and out toward her limbs, unbalancing her. She bit her lower lip and silently cursed, trying to calm the spirit’s tumultuous essence. After a few seconds, she shook her head and opened her eyes. She was alone.

Blackness bled around the edges of the door, reaching for her.

The Sisters sealed the chapel after evening prayers and, not surprisingly, as she shoved against it, the door yielded to her push. She’d learned long ago evil had a way of unlocking what should be locked, and unbinding what should be bound.

The groan of the old hinges announced her entry and echoed through the chapel. She grimaced, knowing now she was exposed to whoever waited. The prickling sensation on her arms increased.

Torches burned in their sconces. She swallowed hard and stepped inside. This hallowed chamber had never felt welcoming. She glanced up at the altar. The carved and still faces of The Sainted Ones scowled down at her.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

Their sightless eyes seemed to judge her, finding her unworthy to enter such a holy place. Their condemnatory glares followed her, but like always, she ignored them and drifted deeper into the chapel.

She scanned the shadows. Madness and the taint of evil seethed at the edges of the light. Her search tracked along the darkness, coming to rest on a crumpled body between the benches.

She gasped. “Angela.”

Sweet, naïve, and ready to believe in the good of others—that was Angela. Ravyn caught up her skirt and ran, the need to protect her friend blotting out the danger.

“Angela.” She dropped to her hands and knees and gathered her friend’s soiled and drenched body in her arms. “Angela!”

At first touch, a crushing blackness crashed into Ravyn. Unable to hold on, she released the body. Her stomach twisted in tight coils of pain. She clutched her throat, trying to tear through the feeling of drowning. The blackness choked and smothered her. She clawed at the stones of the floor.

Air. She needed air.

Heat spread through her body, her defensive fire once again flaring to life. It pushed against the dense darkness fighting to consume her. The evil’s grip loosened. A brutal hand seized her hair and yanked. She tipped backward, sharp knees driving deep into her spine. Wetness spattered her face. Please don’t let that be blood. Her hands pawed her cheeks and frantically brushed the droplets from her face.

Brother Powell towered above her, hair dripping with rain and lips twisted in a contemptuous smile. Before she could scream, he jerked her head at a painful angle and wrapped his hand around her throat.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s come to save the day. I’m afraid you’re too late. And just to let you know,” he whispered in her ear, “Angela died an incredibly painful death.”

Shadows darkened the edges of Ravyn’s vision. The foul stench of his breath assaulted her. He shouldn’t be this close. He should never be this close.

She struck out with her elbow and landed a blow to his stomach. A grunt huffed behind her and the pressure on her head eased. She scrambled across the stone floor, trying to regain her footing, but the dense blackness sucked at her strength.

Curses and footsteps echoed from behind. Her desperate grab hooked the back of a pew, but weakness caused her fingertips to slip from the wood and she collapsed to the floor. Her lungs ached. Darkness crept through her body. She shoved against it, fighting to keep its invasion at bay, refusing to give in so easily.

Powell’s boot pressed into her behind, and with a hard thrust, he sent her sprawling across the aisle. Bent on deflecting his attack, she rolled to her back and kicked at him. His hand wrapped around her ankle. With a yank, she tried to break his hold, the feel of his fingers against her flesh making her skin crawl. His mouth stretched into a wicked grin as he dropped her foot and straddled her. He fisted two handfuls of hair and jerked her to her feet. She slapped at him, hoping for a solid hit, but her hands sliced through empty air.

He released her hair and backhanded her across the face. Pain shot through her jaw as her head snapped sideways. Her body crashed into a wooden bench and tumbled over the top. Tangled in her gray wool dress, she lay on the floor, unmoving.

Powell’s words penetrated her muddled haze. “Oh yes. Icarus will reward me well for you.”

She slowly rolled over and sat up. Bursts of heat sparked in her veins. She shivered at the commands of her powers as they pushed against her barrier. She wanted to give the fire its freedom but clamped down the urge. The coppery tang of blood coated her tongue and she swiped the trickle at the corner of her mouth. “What’s wrong, Brother? Are you tired of tormenting me?”

“That’s a pleasure I’ll never weary of. Unfortunately for you, somebody has made me an offer I cannot refuse.”

He was on her in five short strides, latching onto a handful of hair to drag her across the chapel floor. She’d not cry out and give him the satisfaction of knowing he hurt her.

Fire surged through her body. She shuddered against the force of the inferno, struggling to keep it restrained. Unlike him, she was no murderer.

Blindly, she grappled with both hands for Powell’s arm and found his wrist. She twisted, digging her heels into the uneven stones and pulling her and the monk to a stop.

She leapt to her feet, knocking the monk off balance. He released her hair and pivoted to face her but Ravyn held tight to his arm.

He glanced at his wrist and back to her face. “Is that your attempt at escape?” He yanked on his arm but she didn’t release him. “Really, Lady Ravyn, is that the best you can do?”

The power within her billowed, demanding its freedom. She captured his gaze.

His milky gray eyes widened. Tears. Torment. Wickedness.

Her rudimentary connection to him opened a torrent of suffering. His debauchery swallowed her. She sensed the fear of his victims, and she touched…nothing. Like a sucking void, a dense aura surrounded the monk.

Her anger swelled. She gripped his wrist tighter, determined to give him a taste of what roiled inside of her. Maybe in some small way she could avenge Angela’s death. What sweet ecstasy to burn this abomination of a man.

She concentrated her energy on his arm and forced her heat into him. The power rolled through her body. He fought to pull free but she squeezed harder, her heat increasing.

“Let go!” He tried to shake her free, but she remained unmoving and locked. Fire danced up his arm. He clawed at her fingers. “Let go!”

“See what awaits you beyond this life, Brother?” Emotions slipped away as the trance overtook her. “The fires of The Abyss burn without mercy.”

He screamed and dropped to his knees, the fire engulfing his hand. “You are Bane!”

His words leeched through the fiery spell holding her and took coherent form in her mind. He had called her a Bane. The slur struck close to the fears she kept buried about her powers. “It would serve you right if I killed you where you kneel.”

His face paled.

But this isn’t right, is it? Ravyn blinked and tried to clear her head. She walked a thin line, she knew. Her decision to do what was right—not what felt good—was what kept her in the light.

She watched the monk’s wrist begin to smolder. The smell of charred flesh fouled the air. The fury of her power intoxicated her with its heady domination. His cries echoed off the stone walls, and she peered at him through a haze of euphoria. How easy it would be to submit to the inferno’s demand for freedom.

She stopped and stared at the sight of his burned flesh. A mixture of repulsion and giddiness washed through her. Had she really done that? Her mind clawed its way back from the edge of insanity, an edgy, irrepressible laugh slipping free.

Powell was corrupt and evil. He deserved to die. But was she the one to take his life? She inhaled. No. This wasn’t her right. She pulled her heat back and slowly loosened one finger at a time and dropped his arm.

He crumpled and cradled his blistered wrist to his chest. Careful to keep her distance, she shuffled around him, her need to get away paramount. One more minute and she would’ve lit him up like a stack of dry wood. With unsteady steps, she retreated toward the door.

Her feet tangled in the folds of her skirt. She stumbled and grabbed a pew for balance. Rage and madness warred with her rational mind. She righted herself and continued her backward steps, widening the space between them.

“Look what you’ve done! Look what you’ve done to me!” He struggled to his knees. “If not for Icarus, you’d feel my retaliation. And trust me, my lady, I wouldn’t grant you the kindness of death.”

“Kindness? As if you know what that word means. Let me assure you, Brother, I’d rather be burned alive than endure any more of your kindness.”

“I’ll see you suffer. Listen to you scream as Icarus drains you.”

Fire pulled at her restraints. She held his gaze and slowly allowed the blaze to take control. There would be no talking her way out of this situation. The monk was mad. Her senses screamed a second before he lunged, but she’d already found her focus.

Powell’s movements slowed, his attack becoming exaggerated and predictable, like he struggled through viscous liquid. A blanket of silence cloaked her, dampening the angry cry he spewed. One…two…three. She counted her slowing heartbeat and concentrated on the center of his chest, sinking into a trance.

The fire took command, wielding her body as a weapon.

Her vision altered, and Powell ceased to be solid. Blues and greens swirled where his body had been. A black, snakelike entity slithered unheeded within the colors, and a ruby orb pulsed where the monk’s heart should have been.

Flame and light raced down her arm, gathering in her hand. She launched the energy toward the beating orb. The ball struck dead center and the black snake writhed as threads of lightning coursed through the colors.

Powell catapulted backward and bounced when he hit the stone floor. The swirling colors reverted to solid. He lay sprawled and unmoving.

Her heavy release of breath echoed through the chapel. Control gave way to rational thought, and her body began to shake. No line had existed between her and the fire. Never before had the power demanded her submission and compelled her to do its bidding.

Nausea washed over her. “Holy Mother. What should I do?”

The sight of Powell’s still form pulled at her and she crept forward, her muscles tense. She nudged him with her toe but he didn’t stir. Her question remained unanswered, but The Sainted Ones’ silence held all the condemnation she could bear. She rubbed her hands over her face.

Few knew of Brother Powell’s depraved character, but her strange ways and evil nature were well-known within the abbey. They would turn their accusations toward her first and his murder would be all the proof The Order needed for one of its sanctified demon hunts.

Until now, the abuse from Powell had been worth the food in her stomach and a roof over her head. Her life hadn’t been happy, but it was better than scrounging for survival in a world she knew nothing about. Inside the abbey, she was safe and she had the girls.

The girls. Who would protect them?

She hauled back and kicked him in the ribs. “Bastard.” She glanced at Angela. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

She gathered her heavy skirt and fled the chapel, racing down the dark corridors of the abbey. When she reached the wide staircase, she took the steps three at a time, her ascent resonating off the walls.

Blood pounded in her ears. She rushed into her cell and looked around. There wasn’t much to pack. The few items she owned were shoved into a bag and within seconds, she was ready.

An ancient tome lay open to the page she’d been examining before falling asleep. She slammed the cover closed and dumped the book into her sack. The minor theft of abbey property seemed insignificant at this point.

As a last thought, she grabbed her cloak and rushed toward the outer stairs that led away from the chapel. The steps blurred before her as she spiraled down and around the stone staircase. Panic beat against her, but she tamped down the alarm and locked away her fear.

She was fleeing the only home she’d ever known.

At the bottom of the stairs, she flung open the heavy door. The night and rain hit her like a physical assailant, threatening her bravery. She slipped into the shadows and plastered her body against the abbey wall. Her breathing came in short puffs. Keep my head. I must keep my head.

Foot by foot, she edged along the back of the building, mustering her courage for her final flight. A stray curl fell across her eyes and she pushed it away with a trembling hand. The chill air ruffled against her skin, pulling the heat from beneath her cloak. She gripped its edges and tugged the folds tighter around her, squinting at her destination.

She tucked the bag under her arm and took a deep breath. Hundreds of frantic butterflies beat inside her stomach and up into her throat. Everything familiar…gone. Ahead of her was the unknown, a faceless future…

It’s now or never.

Before doubt could rob her of her courage, she pushed away from the wall and sprinted for the gate. Cold mud splattered her legs. Her hood fell back and needles of icy rain pelted her face. Her frantic breathing swelled and mixed with the driving wind.

The thump of the chapel door echoed across the courtyard. The irritating bite reengaged, chewing and gnawing her arms. She kept running.

“Stop!”

World Building in a Contemporary Romance

2011-12-10T06:12:00.002-05:00

Good Morning, Paranormal Romantics. Look who I found while out in cyberspace!
Today I have a guest blogger, someone you may be familar with for her science fiction to die for, but did you know she has a new contempory romance out? Today she's talking about the differences in world-building for science fiction, paranormal and the contemporary genres. Please help me give a warm welcome to Jessica Subject. And Yes, there's a giveaway. *Lets go of wrist lock she has on Jessica* It's all yours.

First of all, thank you to DL Jackson for allowing me to blog here today. If you have not read any of her books yet, get on over to Amazon, All Romance ebooks, or whatever ebook retailer you use and buy one. You will not be disappointed.

Now, you may not think world building is as difficult for a contemporary romance as it would be in a science fiction, paranormal, and fantasy, but I beg to differ. The setting for my upcoming release, Beneath the Starry Sky is Las Vegas (and surrounding area), Nevada. I have never been there, the furthest west I’ve travelled being West Lafayette, Indiana.

When writing my science fiction romances, I have always set my stories in cities I am familiar with or far away planets and space stations where I have had the freedom to create them the way I wanted. Such was not the case with this story.

So, besides using the internet for research as much as possible, I put a shout out to some of my fellow authors for information. And I received a wonderful response. One author went out of her way to help me, and for that I will be forever grateful. But if they had not, I would have had to contact other sources to find the info, because in existing settings, you cannot make stuff up.

While some of my stories take place on Earth and have involved a lot of research and contacting sources for even more info, I still prefer to create my own worlds.

What about you? Do you prefer to be whisked away to a brand new world or stay in familiar territory when you’re reading and/or writing?

Beneath the Starry Sky Blurb

Left at the altar with bald patches on her head and her self-confidence stripped away, Tamara Johnson must pick up the pieces of her life and face her Alopecia, the autoimmune disease causing her hair to fall out. She is convinced no man will date a bald woman and arranges a one-night stand through Madame Evangeline’s popular service, 1Night Stand. With her new wig held firmly in place, Tamara arrives at the Castillo Hotel in Las Vegas for a night of passion and pleasure. Anything more than one night would mean exposing her bald head, and she will never do that to any man again.

Running into the Castillo Hotel, away from the paparazzi constantly at his heels, Josh Summers wants to spend his next few days locked away from the flashing lights and screaming fans. When he finds an incredibly sexy woman lying on his hotel room bed in nothing but lingerie, he thinks management has made a mistake. Leaving her behind, he heads for the lobby to get the situation rectified. But an unexpected text from Madame Evangeline sends him back to his room. Though unsure whether the woman on the bed is really his perfect match or just another fan believing him to be like his character on television, he knows he must find out, even if it means he must risk telling her his own secrets. If Tamara can handle his imperfections, she just might be his ideal woman.
Coming to Decadent Publishing and other ebook retailers December 16, 2011

For more info, click here: http://www.markofthestars.com/wp/?page_id=7250

To learn more about Alopecia Areata and to help find a cure, visit the National Alopecia Areata Foundation http://www.naaf.org/ and the Canadian Alopecia Areata Foundation http://canaaf.org/

Bio:

Jessica Subject started writing to encourage her daughter to read. Now she writes to keep herself grounded. Although she reads many genres, she enjoys writing Science Fiction Romance the most and believes everyone in the universe deserves a happily ever after. She lives Southwestern Ontario, Canada with her husband and two kids and loves to hear from anyone who has enjoyed her stories.

Website/Blog: http://www.markofthestars.com/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/jsubject

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jessica-E-Subject-author/205759796126370

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4959083.Jessica_E_Subject

Google +: https://plus.google.com/100079570422204018357/posts

Giveaway

Leave a comment with your email for a chance to win an ecopy of Celestial Seduction and book swag from current and upcoming releases from Jessica E. Subject.

Thanks, Jessica for visiting Paranormal Romantics today and telling us a little about your newest release.

For all you Paranormal Romantics out there, don't forget to leave a comment for a chance to win some goodies and a copy of Jessica's science fiction 1NightStand story, Celestial Seduction.

Have a great weekend,

D L

It's Friday

2011-12-09T11:21:00.000-05:00

Looked out the window, and ooh, there's ice on my car! Won't complain too loudly about the cold because weather has been freaky wonderful. Anyway, on to my post which, if I'm honest, is much like one of my stories--I don't know where it's going until one of the characters whisks me away into their world.
My morning starts with coffee, turning on the computer, and reading the Yahoo News. Well, it was with a snorting laugh when the first thing I read was someone had paid $200,000 plus for a purse. What!&%?$ That's about all I care to say about that.

Went from laughing to Oh Lord because in Massachusetts they want to jail an 80 year old woman for feeding ducks. No problem there. By the time the wheels of justice grind slowly around, she'll probably not be available for sentencing. Wonder if they'll speed up the "due process"? After all, a criminal like her should be gotten off the shores...err, streets quickly. Who knows who she'll feed next!

Then there's the orange tabby in a non-profit shelter in Milwaukee with 26 toes. Seems he's helped boost donations at the shelter that takes in animals so they're not euthanized. The mall where they operated was doubling the rent. Now, thanks to interest in the unique and pretty kitty, people have made so many $26 donations--$1 per toe--that they've raised enough to buy their own building! With the economy as it is, wonder who the mall will rent the space to now? Good luck with that!

Ah, well, it's Friday

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

Craft: Release Dates

2011-12-08T06:41:00.000-05:00

One of the unfortunate side-effects of publishing eBooks is release dates aren't known, usually, until you're done with all the edits, line edits, galleys, etc. So that release date is dependent on how efficiently the the team can work together. (I say team, because it really does take a team to put together a book for release, but that's another topic for another day). It also depends on how much the original manuscript needs treatment. So there's no one factor that goes into getting a book out onto the street for release.

Here's a recent example from my own personal experience. I signed a contract with Decadent Publishing on July 31, 2011 to publish Slow Break, the 4th Sypricon Masters series book. I received the cover art September 4, 2011 and the first round of edits September 5, 2011. Those edits were returned about a week later and I received line edits September 24, 2011. The release date was then set for December 16, 2011.

Seems pretty straight forward, right? Here's a comparison. I signed a contract with Ellora's Cave on October 26, 2011 to publish Hard as Stone, a standalone m/m paranormal erotic romance. I received the first round edits on October 31, 2011. I received cover art on November 7, 2011, just about the time I returned the first round of edits. Received the second round to tidy up a few places on November 15, 2011 and returned those on November 21, 2011. Release date was then set for December 14, 2011.

So, two books, two publishers, with two very different timelines but the release dates are back-to-back. This is a good example of adjustments that have to be made and how no two publishers are the same. Actually, I don't think, out of any of my books, I've had identical processes from contract sign to release date. Each has had their own unique timeline. But all this means because of the long lead time for Slow Break, I already have promo in place for dates around the 16th. Now I have another book, with a shorter lead time, to promo at the same time. Luckily, both books are m/m stories and can be promoted together despite the sub-genre differences in them.

Review Sites

2011-12-07T01:13:00.000-05:00

I've been bookmarking review sites for a while now. Since I have several releases scheduled in 2012, I have to figure out who to send what to so all my books have some exposure. I feel like I'm running in circles to get everything done. Or maybe I'm just out of shape. It's been a while since I had a new release and now I have three lined up with a couple months of lag time between them. Just wow.

I feel like I'm finding all sorts of ways to slip "If you're a blogger, contact me here for review ARCs of Evermine and/or A Hint of Frost" into casual conversation. LOL

Promo is definitely the downside of the publishing experience, but it's not all bad. As a reader, I depend on word of new books trickling down to me. Otherwise, how can I find all the awesome new releases and authors I've never heard of but ought to be reading?

So here's my contribution to the cause. Here's my list of review sites if anyone is interested.
There aren't in any type of order. They vary widely on what heat level/genres/etc they accept. Just so you know. ;)

http://www.sizzlinghotbooks.net/
http://darkfaerietales.com/
http://alliwantandmore.blogspot.com/
http://morgan-irina.blogspot.com/
http://www.bookinitreviews.com/
http://lushbookreviewss.blogspot.com/
http://anotherlookbookreviews.blogspot.com/
http://bookmonsterreviews.blogspot.com/
http://www.mybookishways.com/
http://www.bookloversinc.com/
http://www.romancing-the-book.com/
http://www.maldivianbookreviewer.com/
http://jbpreviews.com/
http://romanceaholic.com/
http://www.literaladdiction.com/
http://www.stella-exlibris.com/
http://hangingwithbells.blogspot.com/
http://imlovingbooks.com/
http://vampirebookclub.net/
http://inside-dog.blogspot.com/
http://joanswan.blogspot.com/
http://theindecisivebookangel.blogspot.com/
http://paranormalbookreviews-kelly.blogspot.com/
http://theromancestudio.com/
http://bookreaderaddictsgiveaways.blogspot.com/
http://www.mizlovelovesbooks.com/
http://www.nocturnereads.com/index.html
http://www.darksideofthecovers.com/
http://readingromances.wordpress.com/
http://gravetells.com/
http://abbeymacinnis.blogspot.com/
http://seeingnight.blogspot.com/
http://patricia-preston.blogspot.com/
http://www.readingwithtequila.com/
http://www.book-addicts.com/

Okay, so I had more than I thought. I think that's a gracious plenty right there. LOL

Now I'm off to bed. I got some good news today and I'm hoping I can announce it in the next few weeks. :)

Holiday Surprise

2011-12-05T05:11:00.007-05:00

A group of friends from my crit group, the Rats, have put together a nice little free anthology for Christmas.

All stories in this anthology have a heat rating of Sweet.

Primal’s Gift by C.M. Torrens What gift does one get the Angel of Death? Primal has waited a century to gift just the right present to his lover on a very special day.

Holiday Under Wraps by AJ O’Donovan
Jo hates the holidays because it always overshadows her birthday. When Patrick throws a surprise holiday party she’s sure that this is another year that her special day is forgotten, but Patrick has more than one suprise in store for her.

Change of Heart by Nena Clements
Rachel put the past behind her, including Aaron Weiss. When he arrives at her family’s Channukah celebration she realizes that sometimes the past isn’t better left behind.

The First Time by Voirey Linger Libbie’s loved Ethan since she was six, but something’s gone wrong. Is this the end for them or will this Christmas be one she’ll remember for the rest of her life?

Free Download Here

Happy Holidays!

Have You Had a Paranormal Christmas?

2011-12-04T07:00:00.001-05:00

Thanks to Paranormal Romantics for hosting me here today!

I’m celebrating the release of my contemporary fantasy romance, North of Need. It’s a mix of sweet holiday magic, hot paranormal romance and a unique Greek mythology filled with
gods—what could be better? *grins* And, Paperback Dolls recently picked it as
THE romance novel for holiday gift-giving! Woot!

Today, I wanted to talk about paranormal activity at Christmas. If you think about it, Christmas as a set of beliefs and traditions is chockfull of supernatural elements. First, the holiday celebrates the birthday of Jesus, the son of God and the Virgin Mary, and the result of an immaculate conception. On the night of his birth, angels proclaim him to the world as his savior.

More secular celebrations focus on Santa Claus’s year-long production of toys for all the world’s good girls and boys—and he knows who was bad and who was good—which he delivers the world over in one night. If you count all the world’s children,that’s 800 million stops scattered around the globe he makes in the process of one night’s journey of a magic, reindeer-drawn sleigh (there are currently no known species of flying reindeer… hmm). And one of those reindeer purportedly has a nose that glows bright enough to cut through pitch dark, fog, and bad weather. Scientists have calculated the distance he’d need to cover to make this possible, and it’s 160 million kilometers, farther than the distance from here to the sun. If you count only the world’s Christian children, his stops drop to approximately 91.8 million homes, less daunting to be sure. To make this possible, he’d still need to travel 650 miles per second, or by using magic. See, one of those is way more likely than the other!

The Winter Solstice, which falls usually on December 21, is also one of three days in the year with the reported highest levels of paranormal activity (along with Halloween and All Soul’s Day, November 1). It’s the date with the longest night of the year, making it perfect for things that go bump in the night to, well, bump. And it’s not hard to think why this would be the case—the ghosts of Christmases past are on the move, people, getting ready to yank people from their beds and show them the errors of their ways! *winks*

Seriously, though, many people report seeing ghosts and having unusual, explainable experiences on and around Christmas. Long-dead relatives leaving messages or being seen by young children, Christmas lights coming on by themselves, etc. Maybe all the history
associated with Christmas traditions and heirloom ornaments and families gathering together calls spirits home, back to the people who loved them in life.

What do you think? Have you ever had a paranormal Christmas?

Thanks for reading,

Laura Kaye

Buy
Laura's Books

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Laura has donated two prizes today:

An e-book copy of North of Need, the contest is open internationally.
A set of trading cards for North of Need, which is open to US & Canadian residents only.

About North of Need:

Her tears called a powerful snow god to life, but only her love can grant the humanity he craves...

Desperate to escape agonizing memories of Christmas past, twenty-nine-year-old widow Megan Snow builds a snow family outside the mountain cabin she once shared with her husband, realizing too late that she's recreated the very thing she'll never have.

Called to life by Megan's tears, snow god Owen Winters appears unconscious on her doorstep in the midst of a raging blizzard. As she nurses him to health, Owen finds unexpected solace in her company and unimagined pleasure in the warmth of her body, and vows to win her heart for a chance at humanity.

Megan is drawn to Owen's mismatched eyes, otherworldly masculinity, and enthusiasm for the littlest things. But this Christmas miracle comes with an expiration--before the snow melts and the temperature rises, Megan must let go of her widow's grief and learn to trust
love again, or she'll lose Owen forever.

Excerpt:

The men in her life wanted her to be happy, wanted her to let go of the pain. Wanted her to embrace life. To live.

John couldn’t. But she could.

Owen’s mouth dropped open when she dragged her exploring fingers across the deep red of his bottom lip. So soft.

For now, she’d start with what she knew. “I do want you, Owen. And I need you.” She swallowed. “So much.”

A deep sound of satisfaction rumbled low in his throat and ricocheted down her body. Those soft lips found hers, already open, waiting for his touch. With his kiss, he possessed her. His scent—winter spice and male—filled her senses. His body covered her. She could live on the cool, sweet taste of his tongue. And, God, his little moans and grunts reverberated right down to the wet heat between her legs.

He trailed open-mouthed kisses over her cheek to her ear, sucked her lobe between his lips and flicked it with his tongue. She gasped as goose bumps erupted everywhere and she offered her neck to his exploration.

“I want you, Megan. Be mine. Gods.”

He licked and sucked down her neck. She shivered and grabbed onto the firmness of his sculpted biceps. He nipped at the tendon where neck met shoulder. A moan exploded from her, loud and wanton, but couldn’t be helped. She threaded her fingers into his silky black hair and held him to her. “Again,” she rasped. He teased her with his teeth, then his tongue and lips. “God, Owen.”

She chuckled even as she whimpered at the spine-tingling nips and bites.

“What’s so funny?” His warm breath caressed her bare skin.

“Sorry, it’s just…” She covered her mouth with her hand, humor-induced tears now gathering at the corners of her eyes.

He pulled her hand away. “Never hide your smile from me.”

He pressed kisses to her knuckles, then pinned her wrist beside her shoulder.

She finally reined in her amusement. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I said, ‘God, Owen,’ and then”—the chuckles threatened again—“it hit me that, you know, you really are a god, and all.”

A playful smirk framed Owen’s face. “Are you amused by my godhood?”

She nodded. He thrust his hips into hers, rocking the ridge of his impressive erection against her right where she craved him. Her lips dropped open as she sucked in a breath.

His mismatched eyes blazed. “Still amused?”

She nodded and pressed up against him. Wrapped one leg around his waist and dug her heel into his firm ass. He grunted and ground down on her, just as she hoped he would. Then his mouth crushed against hers again, their tongue intertwining. He drew away with little kisses on the corner of her lips. “I like you amused. Smiling. Laughing. I want to make you feel that way.”

His words wrapped around her heart, mending, binding. She cupped his cheek in her palm. “Sweet, sweet man.” She took a deep breath and a leap of faith. “Make love to me.”

“Gods, yes.” In a flash, he’d pushed up from the couch, lifted her in his arms, and crossed the room.

Butterflies took flight in her stomach. His humor, his gentle kindness, his raw sexuality, his masculine beauty—he appealed to every part of her mind and body. And, maybe, just maybe, her heart.

About Laura Kaye:
A multi-published author of paranormal, contemporary and erotic romance, Laura Kaye’s hot, heartfelt stories are all about the universal desire for a place to belong. Laura is the author of the bestselling contemporary romance and award-nominated HEARTS IN DARKNESS and the bestselling and award-winning paranormal romance FOREVER FREED (NJRW Golden Leaf Award for Best Paranormal of 2011), as well as an erotic romance novella, JUST GOTTA SAY.

Her fourth book, contemporary fantasy romance NORTH OF NEED, is the first in the 4-book Hearts of the Anemoi series. Laura lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters,
and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.

Amazon.com Widgets

Novels, Novellas, Shorts and Flash--Oh My!

2011-12-03T07:10:00.001-05:00

Novels, Novellas, Shorts and Flash.

I've seen so many glowing reviews by readers lately that go on and on about how much they like a story and then mark it down because it was too short. I felt it was necessary to clarify a few things about the differences between the four different lengths, and what the reader can and should reasonably expect from them.

When you’re out there browsing for reads for your E-Readers you may come across these terms used to describe novels, and it really depends on what you’re looking for as to what you should get. Not all of these stories are the same. Actually they're quite different in they way they are put together.

What do I mean?

A Novel is a fully developed book. It has a beginning, middle and end. It should have anywhere from 200 pages or more, and around 50k words minimum, and some even say that isn't enough. There is a main plot, often secondary plot threads and the details of the world are very specific. In romance you will find a hero and heroine, heroine and heroine, hero and hero or ménage in any combination, and often a larger cast of characters—including secondary characters like villains, that may be as developed as your hero and heroine. This isn’t a quick read. The scenery is very descriptive, the author goes into great detail building a world and showing you how it works. Secondary plot threads run deep and often converge with the main plot thread, sometimes more than once during the story. These secondary plot threads are necessary for the story to make sense, and often carry a lot of the weight of the plot. There are usually no loose ends, unless it’s a series and it ties into the next book. If there's a gun on the mantle in scene one, it better go off in the book.

A Novella is also fully developed with a beginning middle and end, however, you will usually only find one plot, and it’s a half-size to your novel. Often in romance there are two characters who are fully developed (sometimes three in erotic), and they may or may not have secondary characters, but they certainly are not as developed as the primary. These stories can run from 50 pages up to 150, sometimes a bit more. The scenery and world building are not usually as descriptive as a novel, and the focus tends to be more on the characters and their dilemma than on what their world looks and is, like. If secondary plot threads are explored, they do not run as deep and they are not central to the outcome or plot and they are not always tied up in the end. They do not carry any weight of the plot and are not required for the story to make sense, but they do add interesting details. A novella simply cannot go into the detail a novel can. If you want broad, sweeping history and detail, a novella is not for you. If you want fast-paced action, a character focused read that may take you an hour or two to read, instead of days, you may be interested in Novellas. Novellas are often parts of anthologies and a publisher series. If there's a gun on the mantle in scene one, it might go off in the book.

A Short. Usually one scene—maybe two. A good lunch-break story that can most likely be finished within an hour. Shorts are to the point. In romance they involve the main characters and a situation that may or may not be solved by the end of the story. Scenery is often omitted and the focus again is on the main characters and the situation in that specific scene. I’ve seen shorts that even forgo the description of the hero and let the heroine’s reaction of him give the reader an idea of what he looks like. These often run 1k up to 5k and are roughly up to 25 pages. A gun on the mantle in scene one is a waste of precious word count.

Flash. One scene under 1k. It amounts to a few paragraphs. No scenery, this snippet is often a jab on the emotions. It takes its punch, makes a point and it’s done. The individual scenes may not even be complete. These quickies are often used to promote a novel or novella in the same world. Flash means just that, a flash. Bang--the gun just went off and you might not know why.

I hope you find these helpful for when you're shopping for your reads and reviewing stories. Keep in mind authors are limited to word count and can only include content that is central to the story--if allowed, and it depends on the size of the story as to how deep they can go into the world. If you are reviewing a novella or short, please think twice about marking that story down because it wasn't long enough, or detailed enough. If you go back and look at the way it was put together, you may discover the author is a master of writing shorts, that every word, every scene, was carefully selected to give you as deep a read as they could in the limited word count they were allowed. Shorts and novellas can be as challenging for an author to pen as a full novel. They truly are different beasts and should be treated as such when reviewed.

Thanks to all for stopping by.

Have a great weekend,

D L Jackson

It's Friday

2011-12-02T02:58:00.000-05:00

It was with immense interest (satisfaction!) that I opened this link when I saw it on my Yahoo page.

Man is accidentally shot by his own dog

Dogs are man's best friend. Except, you know, when they're shooting a gun at you.

Eric Pfeiffer's first line tickled me to death. You know my mind when it comes to animals, and I could just hear the dog in my head.

"No. No more, dude." The man grinned, even turned his back to him. Scratching behind his floppy ears, Fido wondered why he should help Hunter. The ducks had never done anything to him. In fact, he enjoyed a sunny day in the meadow chasing a couple birds he'd become familiar with. So, it had come to this. Reaching for the gun, Fido said, "How about I shoot you in your ass?" His supposed best friend still ignored him as he tied up the boat. That was the last straw. Picking up the 12-gauge shotgun, his paw itched to do what he had wanted to do for a long time. He thought about every late meal, every time he was left out in the cold and rain simply because he had to take a piss. It's my turn. BANG! "How's that shit feel?"

Well, it didn't quite go like that. You can read Pfeiffer's full story at The Sideshow news blog link above.

Here's another (unedited) storyline:

The sulfuric stench of fire and brimstone assaulted Nolan’s nostrils as he entered Omen’s. Smelled worse than hell itself. Destruction left in the wake of the devil’s eldest son, Bane, rivaled the putrid scent of burning flesh and fur. “Peris, shut her the fuck up.” Standing behind the bar, Monique’s sobs grew louder. Reading the woman’s mind, Nolan pieced together what transpired. $Shit. “Bane is banned from coming above.” Chairs scraped against the floor, tables banged loudly as they were turned right side up by Guyer, one of the toughest gargoyles alive who helped watch over the club in Nolan’s absence. Most creatures cut a wide berth around the giant bastard.

Anger flashed from Guy’s golden eyes as he pushed a barstool in Nolan’s direction. “Tell Bane that next time you see him.”

Killing any of the Devil’s children was out of the question, but Nolan could make them wish they were dead. He hated returning from Slayer duties to find chaos. Fatigue wrapped around him like a shroud and all he wanted to do was rest, have his cock sucked, and fuck somebody’s brains out. “I’ll handle it.”

Sweeping his arms in a circular motion, Nolan created a gaping black hole in the floor. Battered and bloody bodies, along with the lingering stench, were swiftly sucked into a violent vortex that led to the Devil’s doorstep. $I’m coming, Bane.$ Dark powers garnered long ago from Satan allowed Nolan to send his words laced in the debris straight to Hell. If there was even a drop of Bane’s sweat mixed with the ash hurtling headlong into the bowels of earth, it would search the motherfucker out.

The words would reach his ears wrapped in shiny black shards of ice.

Being a cold bastard had its perks.

That's a snippet from my newly contracted short story: A Thirst to Die For. It'll be released soon by Razor's Edge Press. It's the sequel to Thirsty which is available now.

Happy Friday!

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out.-J. Hali Steele

When Sexytimes Aren't Sexy

2011-12-01T06:43:00.001-05:00

I know a lot of readers compliment romance writers on their ability to write sexy sex scenes. But I have a confession. There is nothing as un-sexy as writing a sex scene. Don't get me wrong, the finished product is always thigh-clenching, pulse pounding, oh-my-God-that-was-sooooo-good. And there is an initial buzz when (at least for me) I craft up how I want a sex scene to go. However, getting to that point isn't easy.

I myself can read a particular sex scene in one of my books countless times before I ever turn in a book for consideration for submission. I pick apart every scene, dissecting it down to the last little nub just to make sure I have everything the book needs as a whole to work. This includes the sex scenes. Oddly enough, sometimes there's a lot of choreography involved in writing a sex scene. Not only do you have to make it sexy for the readers, but you have to make sure it's something physically possible. Writing "tab B into slot A" just ain't going to cut it. Well, I guess it can in some instances, but the majority of the time...nope.

Not to say I don't absolutely love what I do in any way shape or form. But reading something over and over and over, adding things here, taking things away that don't work sort of takes some of the ... afterglow away from writing sex. It's like watching your favorite movie back-to-back non-stop. Eventually it loses some of its luster.

Luckily, the finished product always shines--but it's always hard work getting there. *g*

Writers + Nutella = Bliss

2011-11-30T14:21:00.001-05:00

It's the strangest thing, but I had never heard of Nutella until I started writing. Someone mentioned it on a writer's forum I belong to, and I had to give it a try. One taste and I was hooked. While not very nutty, it is smooth and chocolaty.

I guess I was being a little tame in my application, because I learned of a few new combos on Twitter--all suggested by writers. Yep. I'm seeing a trend here. Writers sure do love their Nutella and I'm no exception.

I was used as a taste test tiebreaker for one Nutella combo and OMG I'm going to be munching on it until my jars run dry. I can see it now.

Nutella Combos

Nutella and Peanut Butter
Nutella and Almond Butter (I love this.)
Nutella and Orange Marmalade (This is the combo I from Twitter.)
Nutella and Raspberry Preserves (This is going to be my next experiment.)
Nutella and Cream Cheese (I heard this wasn't great.)
Nutella, Banana Slices and Marshmallows (This interests me.)
Nutella and Greek Yogurt (I somehow doubt I'll try that one.)

So how about y'all? Any combos I'm missing? And what do you think? Can we have Nutella proclaimed an official writer's diet menu item? ;)

Do you have Nightmares?

2011-11-29T01:00:00.000-05:00

I used to have so many nightmares as a child, its amazing I ever slept at all. As an adult, I've taken the frightening and made them my heroes. Vampires. Werewolves. But dare I go a step further?

Now, I can watch almost any movie without issues except for movies about possessions. Now, I know there are writers out there making devils their heroes but so far I've not walked that line. Why? Not because I am religious or have any aversion to doing so but because I am afraid to even let myself think about it long enough to contemplate such an idea. I mean, have you seen Paranormal Activity?? AHHHH.

But in all seriousness, what frightens you?

Burnout

2011-11-28T05:22:00.002-05:00

It’s time for me to take a break. Anyone sorta following me knows that I’ve been writing my little heart out and I broke my writing muscle.

I need a recess. It won’t happen though. I have edits and edits and more edits to do but I did take the about three days away from the computer this week. I thought I’d miss it more but not one bit. Even my addiction to writechat didn’t bother me.

I do plan on taking a longer break over Christmas but first these edits and I have to finish The Sigma, which is half done. (By the way, Sam is becoming my favorite hero).

All this leads to my current day dreaming about vacations. I’ve been dreaming about taking a long vacation somewhere warm. I have vacation time in August, which is low peak for many great destinations like Hawaii or Bahamas. I’m terrible about shopping the net for deals or researching resorts. I’m one of those ‘word of mouth’ people.

Someone mentioned Bermuda to me. I’m not crazy about Mexico. Anyone have a suggestion?

(I can dream.)