Rie Anders's Blog
February 11, 2021
Goodreads Giveaway!!
COMING SOON!
I'm giving away 100 advanced copies of Chrysalis
Click here to read more:
CHRYSALIS Giveaway
I'm giving away 100 advanced copies of Chrysalis
Click here to read more:
CHRYSALIS Giveaway
Published on February 11, 2021 14:48
•
Tags:
giveaway-chrysalis
CHRYSALIS COVER REVEAL
Love! Love! Love this cover! What do you think? Are you excited to read Chrysalis in April?
Read More about the story here: Chrysalis
Read More about the story here: Chrysalis

Published on February 11, 2021 14:25
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Tags:
riewritesromance
January 23, 2021
2021 Promotion
All year long, I will be giving away $25.00 AMAZON gift cards.
How does it work?
All you need to do is use the #RieWritesRomance when commenting, sharing or posting on social media. That's it!
Starting in February, every month I will randomly select a winner! Cheers to a fabulous '21
How does it work?
All you need to do is use the #RieWritesRomance when commenting, sharing or posting on social media. That's it!
Starting in February, every month I will randomly select a winner! Cheers to a fabulous '21
Published on January 23, 2021 12:25
•
Tags:
riewrites-romance
August 6, 2019
Lets talk about sex...
*Sexy alert* - Upcoming content celebrates the sexy side of romance novels. If you are averse to words that could be considered unladylike, crude, or crass in nature, or if you are sensitive to the sensual nature of sex on the pages of a book, please be advised that some of the erotic nature of my blog may not be suitable for you.
Back to our content. Let’s talk about sex…
How much is too much? YIKES! Some of you just shook your head in disbelief. Okay, I get it, you can never have too much sex. So how about, how much sex is too much per day? In a relationship? In a marriage? While trying to conceive a child? Those are broad questions…with MANY differing opinions.
So, let’s start over…
How much is too much in a book? Again, that is a broad question! Maybe we should narrow it down?
How much sex is normal?
How much is not enough?
I ponder this daily. I write romance. And with that genre, it is implied that the books will have sex scenes in them. Maybe…
Let’s go with the umbrella statement that “Books written by Rie Anders will have sex scenes in them.”
That will help me keep my opinions contained. 😊
The physical act of sex is so much more than the end game of having an orgasm. Okay, I hear you…some of you are being funny right now, and disagreeing with me. Disagreement noted. However, lets shelve that and assume that sex, in a book, is motivated by more than that.
In “Pavey Boulevard” --as some of you will remember--Nick & Shaye had a moment when sex was used to ease pain. It was based in love, but it was the only way that the two of them had left to communicate with each other. The mere act of being connected to someone, through the act of sex, reminded them that they were both still alive.
In “On Island,” Ethan & Evie have sex that is raw and consuming, and fueled by such a liberating declaration of love that no other type of sex would have made that scene what it needed to be. I love their relationship. I love that she is so pure, and yet so trusting. And don’t we need to trust our partner to allow such intimacies to happen?
Each couple was different. Each couple required their own style and sex “story.”
Let’s take this scene as an example:
“Take your clothes off.” He said huskily, and I reached for the hem of my sweater and pulled it over my head. His hands were working frantically on his own belt buckle as I lifted my bottom and pulled off my yoga pants.
I scooted back on the bed as he stepped out of his pants and crawled over me.
“I missed you so much!” He growled in my ear, grabbing my wrists and putting them over my head.
Whispering to him, I told him I missed him too, and he entered me swift and fast. I tried to keep my eyes open so I could watch his eyes cloud with desire, but I failed. Arching to meet him, we fell together, and I cradled him, feeling like my life was finally complete.
As I write I have to ask myself, “Why would he do that? Why would he take her fast? And more importantly, why would she let him?” Sex on a page MUST be driven by something.
Let’s take this scene:
“Why are you stopping?”
He laughed. “I’m not stopping. I’m just looking at you.”
“Can you look later? I’m a little worked up.”
He sat back from me, stood up, and reached out a hand to help me up.
Eyeing him warily, I reached for his hand, and he walked me to the foot of the stairs.
Looking up, I saw that he had hung a mistletoe from an exposed beam.
Standing in front of him, wearing nothing but my panties, I said, “Did you buy that the other day too?”
He grinned like he had done something incredibly important. “I did.”
“Hopeful?”
He thought for a moment. “Optimistic.”
I smiled up at him, and he continued seriously, “It’s up to you, Cat.”
I bit my lower lip, making him wait a moment, and then I reached my arms around his neck and raised my mouth to kiss him.
Lifting me up off the floor, he carried me up the stairs.
The conversation with the character afterwards went something like this:
Cat: Seriously? He’s just taking me upstairs? (hands on hips, half naked)
Me: But he makes love to you Cat. (me at my computer)
Cat: Oh, well, you didn’t say that. (crosses her arms in front of her, covering her breasts)
Me: Go to the next chapter, you spend all day in bed. What else would grown-ups do in bed all day? (Me, pointing to the screen, down a few sentences)
Cat: Does he fuck me or is it slow and sweet? (getting turned on)
Me: You get slow and sweet. (me, grinning cheekily)
Cat: Why? (now mad)
Me: Because he knows you’ve been hurt, and he wants you to know he cherishes you. He can fuck you later. (trying to console her)
Cat: Okay…but as long as that happens too. (such a girl)
Me: Doesn’t it always? (I say assuredly)
Other books have more descriptive sex. Scenes that go one for pages. Some of my books have ‘closed door’ sex, like the scene above, and that’s okay too. (I have this vision in my head of a bunch of women screaming at my window, “No, no, it’s not okay”. Hang in there with me. I will do my best not to disappoint you.)
Real life sex can be slow and sweet, fast and hard, somewhere in the middle, and totally different combinations of those words (or many others). Sometimes we want to be made love to, sometimes we want to make love with you, and quite honestly, sometimes we just want to be fucked.
My characters are just like you and me, and sometimes I let them tell me where to go--and sometimes my storyline mandates how the couples engage.
(To add a little levity to this blog, I will share with you that my 12-year-old keeps popping over my shoulder, asking me what I’m writing. Go away, Irish Ivy, you’re too young.)
So how much is too much in a book? Who knows, but I will continue to write them. I will continue to write sex as the character wants it, and how the storyline needs it.
My apologies in advance if it’s not enough for you.
My apologies in advance if it’s too much for you. I would love to hear your feedback.
In the meantime…
Back to our content. Let’s talk about sex…
How much is too much? YIKES! Some of you just shook your head in disbelief. Okay, I get it, you can never have too much sex. So how about, how much sex is too much per day? In a relationship? In a marriage? While trying to conceive a child? Those are broad questions…with MANY differing opinions.
So, let’s start over…
How much is too much in a book? Again, that is a broad question! Maybe we should narrow it down?
How much sex is normal?
How much is not enough?
I ponder this daily. I write romance. And with that genre, it is implied that the books will have sex scenes in them. Maybe…
Let’s go with the umbrella statement that “Books written by Rie Anders will have sex scenes in them.”
That will help me keep my opinions contained. 😊
The physical act of sex is so much more than the end game of having an orgasm. Okay, I hear you…some of you are being funny right now, and disagreeing with me. Disagreement noted. However, lets shelve that and assume that sex, in a book, is motivated by more than that.
In “Pavey Boulevard” --as some of you will remember--Nick & Shaye had a moment when sex was used to ease pain. It was based in love, but it was the only way that the two of them had left to communicate with each other. The mere act of being connected to someone, through the act of sex, reminded them that they were both still alive.
In “On Island,” Ethan & Evie have sex that is raw and consuming, and fueled by such a liberating declaration of love that no other type of sex would have made that scene what it needed to be. I love their relationship. I love that she is so pure, and yet so trusting. And don’t we need to trust our partner to allow such intimacies to happen?
Each couple was different. Each couple required their own style and sex “story.”
Let’s take this scene as an example:
“Take your clothes off.” He said huskily, and I reached for the hem of my sweater and pulled it over my head. His hands were working frantically on his own belt buckle as I lifted my bottom and pulled off my yoga pants.
I scooted back on the bed as he stepped out of his pants and crawled over me.
“I missed you so much!” He growled in my ear, grabbing my wrists and putting them over my head.
Whispering to him, I told him I missed him too, and he entered me swift and fast. I tried to keep my eyes open so I could watch his eyes cloud with desire, but I failed. Arching to meet him, we fell together, and I cradled him, feeling like my life was finally complete.
As I write I have to ask myself, “Why would he do that? Why would he take her fast? And more importantly, why would she let him?” Sex on a page MUST be driven by something.
Let’s take this scene:
“Why are you stopping?”
He laughed. “I’m not stopping. I’m just looking at you.”
“Can you look later? I’m a little worked up.”
He sat back from me, stood up, and reached out a hand to help me up.
Eyeing him warily, I reached for his hand, and he walked me to the foot of the stairs.
Looking up, I saw that he had hung a mistletoe from an exposed beam.
Standing in front of him, wearing nothing but my panties, I said, “Did you buy that the other day too?”
He grinned like he had done something incredibly important. “I did.”
“Hopeful?”
He thought for a moment. “Optimistic.”
I smiled up at him, and he continued seriously, “It’s up to you, Cat.”
I bit my lower lip, making him wait a moment, and then I reached my arms around his neck and raised my mouth to kiss him.
Lifting me up off the floor, he carried me up the stairs.
The conversation with the character afterwards went something like this:
Cat: Seriously? He’s just taking me upstairs? (hands on hips, half naked)
Me: But he makes love to you Cat. (me at my computer)
Cat: Oh, well, you didn’t say that. (crosses her arms in front of her, covering her breasts)
Me: Go to the next chapter, you spend all day in bed. What else would grown-ups do in bed all day? (Me, pointing to the screen, down a few sentences)
Cat: Does he fuck me or is it slow and sweet? (getting turned on)
Me: You get slow and sweet. (me, grinning cheekily)
Cat: Why? (now mad)
Me: Because he knows you’ve been hurt, and he wants you to know he cherishes you. He can fuck you later. (trying to console her)
Cat: Okay…but as long as that happens too. (such a girl)
Me: Doesn’t it always? (I say assuredly)
Other books have more descriptive sex. Scenes that go one for pages. Some of my books have ‘closed door’ sex, like the scene above, and that’s okay too. (I have this vision in my head of a bunch of women screaming at my window, “No, no, it’s not okay”. Hang in there with me. I will do my best not to disappoint you.)
Real life sex can be slow and sweet, fast and hard, somewhere in the middle, and totally different combinations of those words (or many others). Sometimes we want to be made love to, sometimes we want to make love with you, and quite honestly, sometimes we just want to be fucked.
My characters are just like you and me, and sometimes I let them tell me where to go--and sometimes my storyline mandates how the couples engage.
(To add a little levity to this blog, I will share with you that my 12-year-old keeps popping over my shoulder, asking me what I’m writing. Go away, Irish Ivy, you’re too young.)
So how much is too much in a book? Who knows, but I will continue to write them. I will continue to write sex as the character wants it, and how the storyline needs it.
My apologies in advance if it’s not enough for you.
My apologies in advance if it’s too much for you. I would love to hear your feedback.
In the meantime…
Published on August 06, 2019 06:19
July 24, 2019
Why I Love Firsts
Do you remember your very first kiss?
I thought that might get your attention. I remember mine—vividly and clearly.
It was Presidents Day weekend. I was in the 8th grade, almost 14, and I was playing truth or dare with my neighborhood friends. They are all cringing right now, I’m certain. I was wearing a Yellow V-neck T-shirt, jeans, and Sperry Top-siders (an alluring outfit for a first kiss), and I remember being self-conscious that my bra was showing through the fabric of the shirt, not quite confident in my blossoming feminine curves. I was dared to kiss... we’ll call him “Boy #1.” I was dared to kiss Boy #1, and as we sat staring at each other, not sure what to do, I remember the butterflies, the tension, the nervousness, the uncertainty of what his lips would feel like. Would they be soft? Or would they feel like jelly? Would they feel stiff and awkward? This would be the kiss that all others would be compared to, so apprehension filled me as we leaned into each other and I closed my eyes… And then…
Magic!
The tentative contact, the soft connection of our lips together, the quick inhale of a breath, and then—what?! Did he just open his mouth and caress me with his tongue? My 13-year-old-self wouldn’t have used those words, but grown-up me would, and that’s what it was: a caress, a connection—love!—adrenaline, excitement, human contact—and the best human contact ever!
That was a first to mark all firsts for me.
I am a person who loves to celebrate. I love marking a point in time and creating a memory. With that being said...
Today is a very special day for me!
Today marks my very first blog! And I am nervous, and excited—apprehensive, and a little bit vulnerable. We all are when we have those moments—those “first kiss” moments. The most remarkable part about firsts is that they change us: they fundamentally change the way we act and how we see the world. After my first kiss, it was no longer an enigma. Fear and apprehension had left me, and I was different: more confident, more knowledgeable—like I had a secret.
Firsts provide opportunities for growth…
...pushing us beyond what we know, stretching our comfort zone. I’ve never been one to shy away from adventure, but I have also often acted on impulse. Adventures of my youth were marked by lack of understanding of potential consequences, and now that I’m older and feel more settled, I realize the importance of being aware and mindful. The firsts of our youth—allowing us to grow—transition to the firsts of our adulthood, where we get to feel the same exhilaration and appreciate it for what it is: something new, markings of growth.
As parents, firsts are happening every day. We get excited about our child’s first tooth, first step, and first word. (My husband and I, of course, still debate whether it was “mommy” or “daddy.” ;-) ) We get excited about the first pair of shoes, and the first day of school—almost every year..
For those of us who love to fly, we remember our first plane ride and what it felt like. We remember that, even without knowledge of how an airplane really stays in the air, we felt the excitement and adrenaline as we were taxiing down the runway at higher than normal rates of speed and launching into the air—even though we may have been completely incapable of fathoming how this was possible.
The magic of firsts is that when we finally commit ourselves to doing something, an inner strength takes over.
It has been my experience that when I step off that ledge, towards my next goal, events fall into place that help drive me towards that goal. This is my first blog; last summer I launched my first novel. Putting one’s self out in the world—open to potential ridicule, or failure—is frightening, possibly even terrifying...
But it is also exciting, and daring, and inspiring.
It’s important to pay attention to those feelings when doing something for the first time, so we don’t lose sight of that childlike innocence of celebrating, or that teenage excitement of a first kiss.
Just because we grow older and have families and children, doesn’t mean that we stop growing as people. We should never stop challenging ourselves to experience new things. I have never backed down from an opportunity to learn something new, or do something daring. (Except I won’t bungee jump or scuba dive, so there’s that! ;-D) But I truly believe it is in the new—in the “firsts”—that I am able to create my stories.
I am embarking on my next great adventure to share my stories, my talent, and my dreams through my novels. I’m looking forward to more firsts, and to finding out what else I can accomplish. Should I try cross country skiing? Yes. Should I try rafting down the Colorado River? Absolutely!
What’s next for you?
A new language?
A new adventure?
What is holding you back?
Fear of failure?
Fear of ridicule?
Don’t let that stop you.
If you don’t try, you will never experience that feeling of your first kiss: the adrenaline, the excitement, the confidence of facing something new head on.
So when I wrap up all my firsts, I am here, in this moment, with my first blog—remembering my first kiss, marking my daughter’s firsts, looking forward to more. My daughter will have her first kiss, probably someday soon, and I will celebrate that she will continue to have a lifetime of firsts, so she can continue to grow, and evolve...
And love.
I thought that might get your attention. I remember mine—vividly and clearly.
It was Presidents Day weekend. I was in the 8th grade, almost 14, and I was playing truth or dare with my neighborhood friends. They are all cringing right now, I’m certain. I was wearing a Yellow V-neck T-shirt, jeans, and Sperry Top-siders (an alluring outfit for a first kiss), and I remember being self-conscious that my bra was showing through the fabric of the shirt, not quite confident in my blossoming feminine curves. I was dared to kiss... we’ll call him “Boy #1.” I was dared to kiss Boy #1, and as we sat staring at each other, not sure what to do, I remember the butterflies, the tension, the nervousness, the uncertainty of what his lips would feel like. Would they be soft? Or would they feel like jelly? Would they feel stiff and awkward? This would be the kiss that all others would be compared to, so apprehension filled me as we leaned into each other and I closed my eyes… And then…
Magic!
The tentative contact, the soft connection of our lips together, the quick inhale of a breath, and then—what?! Did he just open his mouth and caress me with his tongue? My 13-year-old-self wouldn’t have used those words, but grown-up me would, and that’s what it was: a caress, a connection—love!—adrenaline, excitement, human contact—and the best human contact ever!
That was a first to mark all firsts for me.
I am a person who loves to celebrate. I love marking a point in time and creating a memory. With that being said...
Today is a very special day for me!
Today marks my very first blog! And I am nervous, and excited—apprehensive, and a little bit vulnerable. We all are when we have those moments—those “first kiss” moments. The most remarkable part about firsts is that they change us: they fundamentally change the way we act and how we see the world. After my first kiss, it was no longer an enigma. Fear and apprehension had left me, and I was different: more confident, more knowledgeable—like I had a secret.
Firsts provide opportunities for growth…
...pushing us beyond what we know, stretching our comfort zone. I’ve never been one to shy away from adventure, but I have also often acted on impulse. Adventures of my youth were marked by lack of understanding of potential consequences, and now that I’m older and feel more settled, I realize the importance of being aware and mindful. The firsts of our youth—allowing us to grow—transition to the firsts of our adulthood, where we get to feel the same exhilaration and appreciate it for what it is: something new, markings of growth.
As parents, firsts are happening every day. We get excited about our child’s first tooth, first step, and first word. (My husband and I, of course, still debate whether it was “mommy” or “daddy.” ;-) ) We get excited about the first pair of shoes, and the first day of school—almost every year..
For those of us who love to fly, we remember our first plane ride and what it felt like. We remember that, even without knowledge of how an airplane really stays in the air, we felt the excitement and adrenaline as we were taxiing down the runway at higher than normal rates of speed and launching into the air—even though we may have been completely incapable of fathoming how this was possible.
The magic of firsts is that when we finally commit ourselves to doing something, an inner strength takes over.
It has been my experience that when I step off that ledge, towards my next goal, events fall into place that help drive me towards that goal. This is my first blog; last summer I launched my first novel. Putting one’s self out in the world—open to potential ridicule, or failure—is frightening, possibly even terrifying...
But it is also exciting, and daring, and inspiring.
It’s important to pay attention to those feelings when doing something for the first time, so we don’t lose sight of that childlike innocence of celebrating, or that teenage excitement of a first kiss.
Just because we grow older and have families and children, doesn’t mean that we stop growing as people. We should never stop challenging ourselves to experience new things. I have never backed down from an opportunity to learn something new, or do something daring. (Except I won’t bungee jump or scuba dive, so there’s that! ;-D) But I truly believe it is in the new—in the “firsts”—that I am able to create my stories.
I am embarking on my next great adventure to share my stories, my talent, and my dreams through my novels. I’m looking forward to more firsts, and to finding out what else I can accomplish. Should I try cross country skiing? Yes. Should I try rafting down the Colorado River? Absolutely!
What’s next for you?
A new language?
A new adventure?
What is holding you back?
Fear of failure?
Fear of ridicule?
Don’t let that stop you.
If you don’t try, you will never experience that feeling of your first kiss: the adrenaline, the excitement, the confidence of facing something new head on.
So when I wrap up all my firsts, I am here, in this moment, with my first blog—remembering my first kiss, marking my daughter’s firsts, looking forward to more. My daughter will have her first kiss, probably someday soon, and I will celebrate that she will continue to have a lifetime of firsts, so she can continue to grow, and evolve...
And love.
Published on July 24, 2019 17:47