Do you need a happy ending?

As we continue to celebrate here at Paranormal Romantics, I have just finished reading Moon Sword by Keri Arthur. The Riley Jensen Guardian Series, I have dedicated my life too, and the novels have never disappointed me.

Riley, the main character, has a no commitment, kick ass attitude that has always left me wanting more. As part werewolf her need for sex consumes her on the full moon and even though she was in a relationship, she seeks elsewhere to satisfy these wants of hers. And this is what I loved. The tension within these books was amazing! Lots of love interests, lots of drama―juicy fun!

With eight novels in the series, Moon Sworn, the ninth, was to be the last. Eagerly, I dove in. But sadly, I was disappointed. It had nothing to do with the writing. As always, Arthur’s novels are spectacular. My problem, the character I’d grown to love had disappeared. Now, I can understand her reasons behind it, she wanted to give the readers “a happy ending”. And normally, I’m all for that. If there isn’t one I’m throwing the book across the room and swearing. But with this character, it was too happy for me. Everything that we’d learned of her, all her adventures had simply ended. I was left with the feeling that the character in the last novel wasn’t even the same one.

Alright, I get that characters grow and change. And through all the danger, confusion about love, Riley had finally found peace. But I wish her peace was found without losing everything that made the series good.

So, my question to you is, do you need a happy ending? Leave me a comment with your email and you’ll be entered in a chance to win a copy of “A Deadly Whisper” The Watchers Book One. It will be released summer 2010.

When Souls Collide Chapter 3, Part 2

Zen in writing.

Yesterday was my birthday and I spent the day doing nothing. In our lives these days, we often don't leave time to pause, take a breath and think. This "active inactivity" is crucial for our minds to find peace, to settle when stressed and for those of us who write, to open up our imaginations.

There is much to be said about taking a pause and thinking about what it is that is overwhelming you. With all that has been going on in my life, I was surprised I hadn't gone into meltdown. Weddings, babies, finances, busy season at work, writing contracts and deadlines. So many things were coming at me at once, and my writing was suffering for it. I needed to take a pause. My muse needed a break. I needed a chance to recharge and meditate. So I did.

Yesterday I sat and meditated on my story. I worked through plot issues, played with scenerios and contemplated alternate endings--all in my head. I didn't go anywhere. I didn't work in the garden or in the house or watch television. I did nothing, and as I open my laptop this morning and face my deadline, it doesn't seem so steep, it doesn't feel so heavy.

Give it a shot sometime. Take a day and do nothing but think about and evaulate whatever project you are working on. Open your mind, relax and roll the ideas around in your head. Don't pick up your laptop, your notepad or trot off to work in your office. The goal is to do nothing but meditate on whatever it is you want to focus on. Don't give in to the urge to jot things down or start writing. Take a pause and study whatever situation or problem is bothering you. Give yourself time to study it from every angle. You'll be surprised when solutions to your problems seem to magically apear.

Okay, enough about doing nothing. Here's a little something-something.

All rights are the intellectual property of the author. No part may be copied or reproduced without the permission of the author.

***Warning. The following story contains erotic elements, explicit language and violence. Read at your own risk.***

“You weren’t serious? You’re not keeping me?” Relief. She slowed her breathing. Then another feeling replaced the relief. Disappointment? Gods, Tesza. He’s a killer.


“I couldn’t leave you, someone would have found you and you’d be a pile of ash. I was merely teasing.”

“Teasing? I’ve never been teased.” The Butcher was ice, not friendly and not someone who’d tease.

But he did.

“I didn’t think the Kori had a sense of humor.” Especially this one. Tesza yanked the sheet from under his boot and gave him a wry smile. “Thank you for saving me.”

He stepped on the sheet and dragged it back, pulling it from her chest, grinning. “It wasn’t without its rewards.”

Arrogant bastard. A quick shove of the hand and Tesza knocked his boot off. She rose, tugging the covering around her. “Could I get my clothes back?”

“No.”

“Look, I get that you think this is funny, but I don’t. Please, give my clothes back.”

“Can’t. I burned them.”

Tesza sucked in a deep breath. This conversation shouldn’t be happening. Her, him, in the same room without one of them being dead. Unheard of. Yet, all she could think about was getting under cover. “Those garments were all I had.”

He rose from where he sat, walked over to a chest and threw the lid open. He glanced over his shoulder. “I have something in your size.”

“How could you possibly know...? Oh.” Her cheeks ignited. Why was she embarrassed? She’d been raised to do this, handle this. If captured, it was her duty to seduce the enemy. So why did she feel so out of control around him?

“What’s your name?”

“What do you want it to be?” He spun around and came face to face with her, gazing in her eyes. His breath tickled her face, his energy made her body hum. Gods. They weren’t supposed to be so appealing.

Tesza licked her lips.

He growled. Low, barely perceptible.

“Friend,” Tesza squeaked and back-peddled. He stepped forward, eating up the distance between them. Her heart began to skip in her chest. She wondered what it would be like to have him kiss her, touch her.

No.

She shouldn’t be thinking anything about that, but couldn’t stop. Sparks of energy seemed to dance between them. The attraction, undeniable.

Undeniable and wrong. She wouldn’t kill this one. He’d saved her. She couldn’t kill him. Gods. He needed to let her go. Back to Jarod, back to her life. She needed to forget him. Get away.

“We can be more.”

Bolts of lust slammed into her so hard she could barely control her breath. Her body trembled. Her hands shook. She had a hard time pulling her eyes from his. Tesza drew on her last bit of remaining self-control and backed up again, putting a safe space between them.

“Much more.” He closed the gap. Tightened the trap.

“You’re my enemy. You and yours have murdered the people of my clan for over seventy years.” No. “There can be nothing between us but distance and darkness.” Please don’t touch me. Please.

“You don’t feel it?” He reached out and touched her cheek.

Jolts.

Fire.

Need.

Yes she felt it, but it shouldn’t be what she felt for him.

His voice lowered to a whisper. “You deny this attraction? So strong, I couldn’t shoot you. So strong, I want you like I’ve wanted no other, regardless that I’d be executed, or my soul tainted for acting upon the urge.”

She opened her mouth but her tongue felt heavy, frozen. Tesza shook her head and took another step back, losing her sheet. The Kori was standing on it. The grin on his face made it clear it wasn’t an accident.

“Liar.” He stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders, yanking her to his body. His mouth lowered to hers. Tesza’s knees gave way and she clung to his shoulders, desperate to maintain her strength. Hunger moved through his lips and raced through her blood.

Gods be damned, she was a liar.

It's Friday...

And I'm doing a little self promotion today. Monday evening, June 14th, STONE COLD, first book in The Stonegars series, releases at Liquid Silver Books so I'm throwing out a teaser. I'm not a professional at videos but I usually have one *grins* Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUxHkf9BG_E

Here's the blurb:

Hard as hell—all the time—that’s Erac Dane.

From a mythical race of statues sculpted using fragments stolen from Stonehenge, he is cursed and has been trapped in his stony shell for twenty-five years. In a constant state of arousal, Erac watches and hears others have the woman he desires more than freedom. The clock strikes midnight and the curse ends—Erac vows to have what he wants.

Vena Waring’s never been happy with her choice of men. She thought Jason was the one, until he cheated on her. Now that he’s back in her life, can Jason accept what she is? Most of all can he accept the virile, rock-hard man who takes her to new heights, and wants to take Jason along for the ride?

EXCERPT

No, Erac could never love her.

His thighs were thick and comfortable under her. Sometimes when she wriggled her butt to get comfortable, an electric shock went straight through to her core. Lately, it happened a lot. It embarrassed her how nice the bulge between his legs felt nestled against her ass. Yeah, I'm not getting enough sex. What the hell was wrong with her?

Relaxed and all cried out, she dozed off, but not before she whispered, "You always make me feel good."

* * *

Vena's eyes flew open and her head snapped up at a strange sound. It was dark with moonlight filtering through the oak trees that dotted the back yard. Damn, how long had she sat there sleeping?

Standing slowly, she stretched, letting her eyes adjust as she peered around. What time is it?

A twig snapped on the side of the house. Movement caught her eye and she turned in its direction. Holding her breath, she watched a dark figure emerge from the shadows.

"Hey, babe."

Hell, it was Jason.

"Damn it, jerk, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?"

"Why are you standing out here in the dark? It's damn near midnight. Guess that's why you didn't hear me ring at the front door. Where's the staff?"

"I gave them the night off." She ran a hand through her short hair and focused on the man in front of her. "I told you to stay away." As she walked across the yard toward the back door, the motion light flared bright and Vena flipped the switch so it remained lit. She returned to stand by the large tree.

Jason was gorgeous. His blond hair, always perfectly styled and in place, was mussed tonight. The black tee he wore stretched across his chest revealing taut muscles. He was a big man whose thighs were strong and hard. Jason worked out regularly and it showed. His over six foot frame was athletically toned and he turned many a female head when they were out together. Some men stole a second look too.

But tonight he was a mess.

"Why are you here?"

"Honey, don't." He stepped closer and she noticed he carried a plastic shopping bag. "I came over to talk, to tell you I'm sorry."

"God, what is it with you, with us? There's nothing left between us, Jason. Go home." Vena knew she didn't mean it. What was wrong with them, with her? He did satisfy her, she just wanted more of...of what?

"You don't mean that." He sat the bag down and reached in to pull out what appeared to be a ready-to-roast turkey. "Look what I bought. It's the only one I could find on such short notice that wasn't frozen." He placed the dripping package back in the bag.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

He stepped closer and grabbed her shoulders. "We haven't made love in a long time and I know you want me, Vena, you always want me."

His eyes darkened. It probably crossed Jason's mind to tell her she wanted him in that way too much and too often. After all, it's what sent him away.

"Damn it, I can't leave you alone, I can't stay away from you. It's like..."

His words drifted off and she smelled the alcohol on his breath. That explained everything.

"I'm calling the cops." She took her phone out, flipped it open and started to dial 9-1-1. Before she finished, he snatched it from her, slammed it shut, and hurled it across the yard.

"I need you." He shoved her into the tree and began feeling her breasts with rough hands.

"Jason," she pleaded. Vena wasn't sure what she begged for. She needed him bad but she wanted to talk, try to figure this out.

Pinned with her back against the large trunk, she jumped at the sound of a loud crash behind the tree. Jason, intent on freeing her breast, didn't seem to hear the heavy footsteps or the rustle of the shopping bag. Vena saw it coming from the corner of her eye. It slammed into Jason's head sending beads of bloody water onto her face and in her eyes, blinding her for a moment.

Jason slid into a heap on the ground.

She swiped at her face with her forearm and when she could open her eyes again, standing before her was a bare ass, naked man.

Holy crap!

It was...

Vena could tell by the length of his hair, the breadth of his shoulders, and the cut of his muscled stomach. His penis, normally just a bulge between his thighs, bobbed in the air. She stumbled back in disbelief.

Stepping over Jason, he caught her by the wrist, kept her from falling on her butt. Gray eyes stared, his chest heaved up and down.

"I...I..." His voice creaked like an unused, rusty door.

"Who the hell are you?" Deep in the recesses of her mind, in her heart Vena knew the answer before she even asked. She needed to hear him say it. Amazed at her calm, she gazed down his body, her eyes coming to rest on his thick cock. As they swept upward, she took in a myriad of lacerations, some fresh, crisscrossing his chest. By the time she reached his face, her breath came in rapid puffs.

"Erac," he croaked.

"This can't be happening." Her head shook back and forth, denying what she saw.

His hands moved to her shoulders and he drew her against his hard body, held her tight. He whispered, "Mine."

Surreal, everything moved in slow motion. It dawned on her she may have gone crazy. If lucky, she was still asleep.

"No one will ever hurt you again." His words came out harsh and strained. "I promise."

Unbelievable.

Behind him, Jason groaned. Thank God he was alive.

"A freaking statue just cold-cocked a man in my back yard with a fucking turkey." She glared up at him. "Tell me I'm dreaming."

Thunder rolled overhead and she looked up just in time to see a bolt of lightning streak toward them. It slammed into the tree and split it dead center, sending a shower of sparks in every direction. Erac snatched her behind him.

"What the fuck is happening?" Vena screamed above the crackle of flames. The smoke cleared and a shadowy figure emerged.

"Hello, daughter."

Oh shit!

As a prize, any of my backlist is available in PDF--your choice--so don't forget to leave a way to contact you!

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

Up For the Task?

Since I am one of the newer members here, I don't have any entries with PR to pull from and display once again here. However. I've been a blogger for a long time. Longer than for most people knew even what the heck blogging was. Plus, I've kept journals since I was a pre-teen. So, here's an entry from one of those defunct journals - dated Aug 1, 2002.

~*~

I heard someone once say that writing sex is easy. Not writing about sex, that’s easy – describe the natural sexual act between two people - simple mechanics that everyone is familiar with. No, I mean writing sex. All the emotions, entanglements, blood, sweat and tears.

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember.

I’ve been writing sex for close to 10 years.

But this one person asked "How hard can it be to write sex? It’s something that everyone does. Just slap a few paragraphs together and WHAM! BAM! THANK-YOU MA’AM!"

*snicker*

If it were that easy, everyone would do it perfectly out of the gate. If you really think it's that easy, that simple and you don't already writer it - try it.

I dare you.

Write a story that captures the reader’s imagination, makes them understand every emotion, every thrust – without going into such detail that you lose their interest. Without having to spell everything out so that it’s all on the line for them and they have no ‘interaction’ with the characters.

After all, half the fun of reading is getting to use your imagination.

Write a story that finds that perfect balance where your reader is so captivated that they get to the end and scream for more.

Better yet, write a story with a plot.

*gasp*

Sex stories have plots?

Say it ain't so!!

Writing sex was one of the harder storytelling I started. I used to just write fantasy, sci-fi, and just plain fiction. But I wasn’t growing as a writer, I wasn't learning anything. I was throwing away more than I was keeping. In order to grow as a writer, you have to expand.

Bottom line, I’m not the best writer in the world. Shit, I personally think I suck, but I write for myself. For my own creativity. Writing about something everyone does and making it interesting is one hell of a task.

~*~

So, if you made it through that, you deserve a little reward. I worked something different out with the winner's name I drew last week - so I'll toss up a download of my first published novel, Flash of Dark, to one lucky commenter again. Be sure to leave me a way to contact you and the contest is open until midnight EST.

Good luck!

Life and other incomprehensible puzzles

This blog post originally ran on August 12, 2009. I will put updates to life in all caps :-)


“My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get." – Forrest Gump

Truer words have never been spoken.

My life—well at least my writing life—is very much like a box of assorted chocolates. Most days, it’s the chocolate-covered nutty ones that are full of the ups and downs of writing: no character motivation, plot holes, never ending chapters going nowhere. Some days are the smooth, soft caramel ones where the writing flows free and easy and nothing’s wrong with the world, and still others are the really nasty ones I liken to cherry cordials—gross, oozing with questionable internals with a stale cherry staring back at you that represent the Big Dark Moment you’ve written your characters into but can’t find a way to get them out. (UPDATE 06/2010 LIFE IS STILL A CRAP SHOOT LIKE A BOX OF CHOCOLATES EXCEPT I'VE GOTTEN A HANDLE ON THE WRITING. NO LONGER DO I HAVE THE ABOVE ISSUES. I UNDERSTAND HOW TO BUILD A GREAT STORY)


“My father used to say that if we ever had the money you have, we would eat steak and ice cream three times everyday!” -- Pollyanna Whittier from Pollyanna

Wouldn’t that be nice? As writers, I think we’re consumed at the beginning, about making money—the big bucks—and when we sign that first contract, optimism runs rampant. “I’ve written a book and everyone will love it and come running to my door to offer me fame and fortune.” It’s only after that first, fourth, twentieth book is released that we take a step back and face up to reality, who’s been standing in the corner rolling his eyes. The money might be there, but unless you’re Nora Roberts or J.K. Rowling, writers aren’t exactly buried in piles of it. And that’s okay—most days—because writers have found their passion in life. Writing, and really, that’s priceless. Most days… (UPDATE 06-2010 HA! I STILL HAVEN'T CONQUERED WANTING TO MAKE TONS OF SALES--HECK EVEN A MODEST AMOUNT OF SALES. IT BUGS ME EVERY TIME STATEMENTS COME IN AND SHOW JUST HOW UN-FAMOUS I'M GOING TO BE LOL. BUT, LIFE GOES ON AND I CAN STILL DREAM OF MAKING IT BIG. IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN, I'M OKAY WITH THAT :-))


“The start is not nearly as important as the finish.” -- Chef Didier in the Last Holiday

This is my favorite quote of recent time. Seems like every time I’ve hit the skids with my writing, this movie comes on and Queen Latifah’s jamming in the hotel kitchen with the chef and he tells her character this. Then I pull up my big girl panties and get over whatever it is that’s cuffed me on the chin. It’s how we finish—in writing, in relationships, in life. How do we want to be remembered as a writer? By a figure in a bank account or by the thought provoking, sweet, sensual, unique stories that we weave to entertain others? I’d rather write a book that someone will read more than once because it’s a favorite.

Ask me in twenty years how that’s going LOL (UPDATE 06-2010 SINCE THIS POST, I'VE GONE ON TO WRITE A HANDFUL OF AWESOME STORIES THAT SORT OF LEFT THE DUST OF 2009 BEHIND. MY WRITING IS MUCH STRONGER, HOTTER, BETTER. THE FUNNY THING IS, THIS MOVIE WAS JUST ON A COUPLE OF WEEKS AGO, AND TRUE TO LIFE, I NEEDED TO HEAR THOSE WORDS. IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING, REJECTIONS HAVEN'T SLACKED OFF SINCE 2009 NEITHER HAS MY PENCHANT FOR NOT WRITING IN THE TRENDS LOL)

And my all time go to quote:

“All your dreams can come true if you have the courage to pursue them.” – Walt Disney

Maybe I’ve got Disney on the brain because I’m going on vacation to the House of Mouse in under two weeks, but seriously, Walt Disney has been a role model since I had to do a book report on him in the fifth grade. Ironically, that’s when I caught the writing bug…but I digress. (UPDATE 06-2010 LOL DISNEY. WE PLAN TO GO BACK THIS YEAR AFTER TURKEY DAY.)

Being a published author has been my dream (besides being a cake decorator, but all the cakes I make lean or crumble—long story) And finally, blathering on and on in notebooks and on scraps of paper begin to make sense.

There was a quote from Sister Act 2 that I really wanted to find for today’s blog, but I couldn’t and I should know it by heart since I’ve seen it so many times, but I’m tired right now and I wish I could remember the book title and author. Anyway, it’s paraphrased here:

Sister Mary Clarence gives her student Rita a book and tells her to read it and says “This guy’s real good. He knows a thing or two about life. If you wake up in the morning and the only thing you can think about is singing, you’re destined to become a singer.” (UPDATE 06-2010 I DID FIND THE BOOK A COUPLE OF MONTHS AGO: LETTERS TO A YOUNG POET BY RAINER MARIA RILKE)

"Go into yourself and test the deeps in which your life takes rise; at its source you will find the answer to the question whether you must create. Accept it, just as it sounds, without inquiring into it. Perhaps it will turn out that you are called to be an artist. Then take that destiny upon yourself and bear it, its burden and its greatness, without ever asking what recompense might come from outside."

That’s how I feel about writing. It’s the first thing I think about when I wake up (besides from my hubby) and it’s the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night (besides my hubby). Writing’s my life. Good, bad, or indifferent, it’s me. I pour out a little piece of my soul into my current project. (UPDATE 60-2010 THIS HASN'T CHANGED)

This week has been excellent--or at least way better than last week. Sure, it started out with a mediocre review. I bitched to my girlfriends about it and moved on. Then this weekend, I fell flat on my writing face as doubts stacked up to the ceiling because I couldn’t get a new novel started. Once again, my girlfriends swooped in, smacked me around, and told me to pretty much get over it, I was a good writer. I believe them. I believe in my work. I believe my husband, God love him, when he says, “why do you let these things get to you?” I can’t help it. Remember that tiny piece of the soul in the writing? Yup, that’s why writers feel so deeply. We can’t help it.

Today, a publisher requested a partial of one of my novels and another one…well, I can’t really say much about that one yet until it's been confirmed... (UPDATE 06-2010 THE FUNNY THING? I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED BACK THEN TO MAKE ME FEEL THIS WAY AND I WAS TOO LAZY TO LOOK THROUGH SAVED EMAILS TO FIND OUT LOL)

My point is, once you find the one thing you believe in with your whole heart in life: cooking, writing, singing, cement mixing, toilet plunging, whatever—once you find that passion, do everything in your power to pursue it. Knock on a few doors, okay pound on them until someone will listen and give you advice. Do everything you can to live that dream, make it yours, put your stamp on the world. The payoff may not be in obscene amounts of cold, hard cash, but in the end, when someone at the grocery, hair salon, and doctor’s office asks: “What do you do for a living?”

You can proudly say, “I’m an author.”

Need I say more?

(UPDATE 06-2010 SO YEAH, MY LIFE IS STILL BASICALLY LIKE THIS, EXCEPT IT'S WAY BETTER NOW. FINDING THE PLACE WHERE YOU FIT IN AND ARE COMFORTABLE THERE IS THE BEST FEELING IN THE WORLD. YES, MY GOALS HAVE CHANGED TWICE FOR 2010 BUT I'M STILL WRITING AND STILL DREAMING FOR THE FUTURE.)

Remember to leave your email address with your comment for the daily prize drawing which is book swag, a flip-flop shaped luggage tap and a free download of my debut historical book Winner Takes All. Your name will be entered for the grand prize at month's end.

And if you're so inclined, please pop into my website http://www.sandrasookoo.com and check out my two brand new releases!

Oh the Places I've Been...

Oh the places I’ve been…

Hard to believe it’s been over a year since I wrote my first blog for PR. We’ve had some major changes, some bloggers coming, some bloggers going. All in all, I have absolutely adored everyone who has been or is currently with us!

Down below you will see a copy of the first blog I wrote on Paranormal Romantics, well, the first one I wrote after our initial introductions.

So here’s the deal. Read the Blog below and answer my initial question…Do you like Dragons in your books?

Then beneath it, please leave me your e-mail address and tell me which book from my collection, the entirety of my published books can be found on my website www.rebeccaroyce.com , you would like to win a copy of.

In other words your comment should look something like this:

Comment on Dragons…

Name

E-mail Address

Your choice of book.

And don’t forget, even if you don’t win today you are being automatically entered to win our grand prize at the end of the month.

Shall I tell you what I’ve entered in the big drawing….

Nah, I’m going to make you wait…

Suspense is good for the soul!!

Best

RR

TUESDAY, JUNE 2, 2009

For the love of a Dragon

Let me digress from the start and congratulate Sandra Sookoo for being the top seller in May at Desert Breeze Publishing (http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/StoreFront.bok) Her book Winner Takes All, is not paranormal, but it is fabulous and we are so proud of you, girl.

Now onto other things.

Let’s talk for a moment about Dragons.

I know, this seems like a strange discussion considering that I write about wolves, wizards, and space creatures, but I will admit that I have a strange fascination with all things Dragon. Which, if I’m honest, is probably why I don’t write about them because I know that’s why I don’t write about Vampires…but more on that another day.

The first time I can remember being aware of the Dragon was when I was a child watching the movie The Never Ending Story.

You all remember this movie, don’t you?

It’s the story of Bastian, who is basically friendless and alone and then finds the key to enter this amazing fantasy world through a book that whisks him away to another land where he gets to save everyone by giving the Childlike Empress a name. (On a side note here, I have never been able to understand him when he shouts out the name, if anyone happens to know what name he actually chose, I would appreciate being informed, thanks.)

Anyway, at the end of this movie, when he can choose anything he wants, he chooses to ride a Dragon. This always seemed so cool to me. What child doesn’t want to ride on a Dragon? (This from a person who white knuckles the armrest every time I fly in an airplane but we could go on for hours about that.)

So how does it happen? How does a character, admittedly a mythical being often portrayed as the bad guy in literature—let’s face it, they are always burning down a village, kidnapping a princess, guarding the potion that the hero needs to save the princess—go from being a thing of horror or a children’s fantasy to a romantic hero in the lexicon of the paranormal romance genre? *

For me, it was an easy transition. Okay, so in these books some of the time the dragon is green and scaly. Other times, usually, he is able to transform himself into a really hunky guy with a bad temper and our heroine (and yes, I know sometimes this can be reversed, it can be the heroine who is occasionally green and scaly but hey aren’t we all?) has to first learn to accept that it possible for the hero to be both and then learn to love him despite his lizard-like tendencies.

And isn’t that the point of all Paranormal Romance? We take what is inherently scary and we twist it up. What was frightening is charming. The bad guys are really good at heart and it only took the right woman to know this about them. And I think as a hero, the dragon is actually pretty benign. Wolves have their problems, if they’re of the Were variety, they have to shift every full moon with no memory of what they’ve done...or at least no control over it when it is happening…the shifters have to live with the animal inside of them. Watch out for the Vampire, even though he loves you, ladies, he wants to eat you too and he is very possibly soulless. But the dragon…I guess you could get swatted by him if he’s not careful.

Am I alone in this? Or does anyone else ADORE a really good dragon-hero in his or her paranormal romance books? And if you’ve read any really good ones, shoot their titles my way, I’m always looking for a new read.

Best,

RR

*For the record, I am talking about making the dragon the hero, not the books where the dragon carries the hero around. In that case, and I still love those books, the dragon is really a smarter version of a horse. I love horses and I love dragons in those books but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

!!My very darling husband has just e-mailed me, after reading this post, to inform me that had I read the book version of The Never Ending Story, of which I claim to have been ignorant to the existence of, I would know that he shouts out Moon Child as the Childlike Empresses' name. Thank you sweetheart. I love you!!

Re-Run on Ghosts and Poltergeists and Spirits. Oh My!

Good day! I’ll be starting your week so pull up a chair, the cyber coffee is fresh and strong. Do a stretch and pop those joints, time to get the weekend out of your system and get your spirit in gear.



Do you believe in ghosts? I do and I’m not alone. There are books and television shows dedicated to this subject. Many theorists debate the different phenomenon but I don’t care too much about the proof. It’s the stories that draw my attention. I love hearing about people’s experiences with the supernatural, a small taste of the true paranormal in our lives.


The movie ‘Ghost’ comes to mind when I think of the romantic aspect. I cried when Patrick Swayze’s character said good bye to Demi Moore before stepping into the light. They were lucky to have the chance to say their farewells but things like this only happen in movies. Or do they?(There have been a few release this year dealing with ghost romances, I think one of them was called My Girlfriend's Ghost?)


I collect ghost stories from people I’ve met. It’s an odd hobby. My mother dreamed she took my grandmother to the ocean and stood on the shore with her. In the morning she received a phone call, her mother passed away during the night. A seventy year old soldier returned to Europe to visit his fallen comrades’ graves. He passed away that night at the hotel in his sleep. Coincidences? Maybe.
(You know, it's still a hobby.)

Ever have a spooky moment? An unexplained apparition or experience? Share it with us over our cyber coffee. Cream? Sugar?

Today, I'm giving away a copy of RED DAWN, my space opera and a reading light to attach to your e-reader or book. Don't forget your e-mail address so I can contact you. I'll choice the winner at midnight. 

Paranormal Romance Rocks!!!

Howdy All!!

I like Sara haven't been around at Paranormal Romantics long enough to have a post that has any history. And furthermore, my first release does not come out until July, so I am sad to say I can't even offer that as an immediate prize this week. But what I will do is this, leave me a comment with your email address and I'll draw a winner on Monday who I will send a copy of The Willow - The Magical Sword Book One when it is released ;)


This week I am going to take a moment and be a proud author to rave about the covers for The Willow & The Wicked. As an aspiring author I dreamed of this moment and I have to say, it is about as satisfying as I suspected it would be.

Seeing the characters that I've grown to love in the flesh is simply an amazing sight and I couldn't be happier with the design that Anne Cain put together for this series.

Now, I'm just craving to see what the final two of the series will look like!!



The Willow - Release Date: July 2010




The Wicked - Release Date: August 2010

When Souls Collide Chapter 3, Part 1

Deadlines, babies and weddings--oh my. Life is indeed crazier than any fiction I could come up with.
Ready for some more?

All rights are the intellectual property of the author. No part may be copied or reproduced without the permission of the author.

***Warning. The following story contains erotic elements, explicit language and violence. Read at your own risk.***

She was alive.


A damp cloth moved over her forehead. The cushion under her gave as someone sat down. Where? The smell of incense filled the air and the room felt cool. She opened her eyes and stared at the Kori soldier.

Tesza sucked in a staggered breath.

His shirt was off. He had a cloth in his hand and a bowl of water in his lap. Light poured over his naked flesh, bronzing his skin, shadowing every ridge and hard plane.

Tesza swallowed and balled her hands into the bedding. Her heart jumped several beats. She tightened her grip, wanting to reach out and touch. Would she feel the connection she’d felt when he touched her face in the abandoned plaza?

“I told you I didn’t want to clean up, Kalos. You’ve gotten blood all over my uniform and house.” He set the bowl on a stand next to the bed.

Blood? Her blood? She risked a glance into his eyes, looking for the telling sign of the infection. Nothing. It took a short time for the infection to show. Had it been enough? How long had she been out? She shifted her gaze away, afraid he’d wonder why.

Tesza went to sit up and he shoved her back down. “Stay put. I need to bandage that wound.”

”I can’t stay in your quarters.” Her heart jumped into her throat. “Where are your quarters?” What time was it? She had to prepare for Fourth Night. “What time of day?”

“You can’t go out there. This is the safest place for you.” He finished wrapping her head and drew his hand back. “It’s not dark yet, but soon.”

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I told you, I don’t feel like killing today. Quit asking so many questions.”

Tesza noticed the sheet barely covered her breasts. “Where are my clothes?” Her face heated, replacing the chill she’d felt before. Had he touched her while she slept? Like Jarod touched her on Third night? Her stomach knotted and fluttered at the thought.

“Those rags? I burned them. They weren’t coming into my home.”

“I’m not dirty. My clothes may have been worn, but they were clean.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re clean now. I bathed you while you were unconscious.” His eyes sparked.

“You what?” Tesza shot up, landing on her feet. The sheet dropped. Dizziness assaulted and she pressed her hand to her forehead and glared at him.

The Kori glanced up and raised a brow. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Doesn’t seem to bother you now.”

Tesza shrieked and yanked the sheet up, trying to wrap it around her body. She wanted to crawl away and hide from that piercing gaze. His hands had been all over her body. What had he done when she was out? “I want clothes.” She needed to control the situation.

“You’re in a fine position to make demands.”

“You had no right to remove my clothing.”

“I had every right. I could have shot you and didn’t. Therefore, I own you.”

“I am not yours to own. I belong to another.”

“I could get into trouble for harboring you. After all this, I’ve decided to keep you.”

“You can’t.” Anger crept across her scalp. He may have saved her, but he didn’t own her and in saving her, he could have infected the entire Kori population in the city. She glanced around, looking for something she could throw at him. Distance would be best. There had been enough time to see the illness in his eyes. He wasn’t infected and it needed to stay that way. “I’m not a pet.”

“No, you’re not.” His eyes travelled up and down. He grabbed the tail of the sheet and yanked, sending her flying into his lap. His arms shot around her and locked down.

“Let me go!” Tesza thrashed and the sheet dropped to the floor. His arms were strong, hard. They felt good, right.

She would kill them all. She didn’t want to murder innocents. Children, elderly… She arched against the limbs banded around her, bucking and thrashing.

“Well, this is interesting. You keep wiggling like that and we’re going to have a problem.”

Tesza froze. Oh, they already had a problem. He wanted her.

“What’s your name, pretty Kalos?”

Tesza turned her face away. The way he called her pretty Kalos, warmed her insides. She’d never been flirted with, never been called pretty. Sure, Jarod said he desired her, but he’d never flirted. Not like this. He always spoke direct, to the point. This flirting made her want to giggle and reciprocate.

“Let me go and I’ll tell you.” She needed to put distance between them. It was dangerous, way too dangerous.

“Fair enough.” The Kori loosened his grip and she dropped to the floor on her rear. Tesza grabbed the sheet and tugged.

“Well?”

“Tesza.”

The situation was getting out of control. Tesza pulled on the sheet and he stepped on it, keeping her from getting under complete cover.

“Get off it, you Kori bastard.”

“You didn’t ask nicely and the name isn’t Kori bastard.”

“So what is it?”

“Try calling me enemy.”

“Can I please leave?” She was wading into deeper water with each passing second. She should infect him, but somewhere in her head and heart, back at the clearing, she’d decided she couldn’t, knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t just him. She’d kill them all.

He studied her for a minute, as if he weighed his options. When he finally spoke, she jumped. His voice hit like high-voltage, shocking her to the core.

“I’ll take you out after star-fall, too dangerous in the day.”

 
Thanks for sticking with me. I'll see you next week.
DL

REMEMBER THIS?

HAPPY FRIDAY, JUNE 5TH

It’s Friday already! What a week this has been. Paranormal Romantics had a wonderful opening day and an awesome week of posts. You’ve read about dragons, vampyres (Yeah, on my day it will be spelled in the old English way with a ‘y’ plus I like how it looks) anyway, I digress. We’ve read about book addicts, sci-fi and fantasy. One thing is for sure – we covered the paranormal and romance.

In my particular case, erotic paranormal romance. In their form of a cat, vampyre, angel or demon, my characters will bite you or eat you, but most of all they’ll make pure, unadulterated love to you.

…and this:

In the weeks to come there will be much more. We intend to fascinate you and pull you in with tidbits and big bits of information. We’ll talk about our books, of course, but also tell you about others. We’ll keep you excited and interested in everything romance.

…and this:

There will be days of good old fashioned hunks, nothing fancy, just a picture of a hot body. But who knows, I might throw in a Purple P Rose-like lady here and there. (ok-so I didn't do this because I could never find any-you got 'em...send 'em my way!) Friday is my day and I’ve also dubbed it Furday, Fireday and Freeday. Anything goes. So be prepared for some crazy fun times.

Yup, that was then, this is now and not much has changed. We all gave you the best of our “tidbits and big bits” as I called them, and like everyone, new and old, I’m looking forward to another year of FUN ON FRIDAYS and I hope you’ll hang around too.

Ooh! Ooh! If you live near a Friendly’s, Saturday, June 5th—free ice cream noon to 5!

Now, as promised I’m giving away a PDF copy of one of my books—name it, it’s yours!

Buttt…I couldn’t make it that easy. *grins*

Here’s a question I asked June 5, 2009 blog: What does gingerbread and electricity have in common? You may have to go back...back...back...in time!!

Everyone who answers it right will get a spin in the random hat for a chance to win. So, don’t forget to leave contact information so I can give the prize away!!

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