Mina Carter's Blog, page 32

*Coffee giggles*

Yeah, this is familiar...

 

see more Lolcats and funny pictures, and check out our Socially Awkward Penguin lolz!
see more Lolcats and funny pictures, and check out our Socially Awkward Penguin lolz!
see more Lolcats and funny pictures, and check out our Socially Awkward Penguin lolz!

Featuring Deceptive Attraction!

Today I'd like to welcome back Tara Lain, who has a brand new release - Deceptive Attraction!

***

Have I got a Girl for You!

Hi everyone. I'm always happy to be at Mina's place, and usually I'm telling you why you might want to read a male/male novel or consider my beautiful boys of romance. But guess what? I also write women and my new book, Deceptive Attraction, has a fantastic female character named Angel Silvay. Angel is a midwife who lives and works in Africa and … she looks like a pretty boy! Yep, you knew I had to get the boys in there somehow. Actually, the book is a M/M/F ménage starring Caleb Martin, a rising soccer star, and the two gender-bending people he meets. Elijah is a woodworker with such a pretty face he could be a girl. Angel is the tomboy who attracts Cal and makes him question his sexual orientation.

I actually write a lot of women characters. My first book, Genetic Attraction, to which Deceptive Attraction is the sequel, has a woman as the main POV character. Emmaline Silvay (Angel's cousin) is a genetic scientist, famous and older than the two men she falls for. Like Mina, I write  kick-butt women but my female characters are kicking butt in terms of skill and accomplishment. They are almost always dedicated to their work in some way. My female characters are also often the dispensers of wisdom. Emmaline's mom and Angel's aunt, Shakti, is a font of truth for all the characters that surround her. She tells them "you always have a choice" and helps to change the course of their lives. In my recent book, Golden Dancer, the main character, Mac MacAllister, has a best friend, Debbie, who shows him the truth that is often right in front of his face and helps him to understand his own nature. Lydia Martin, mother to both Jake and Caleb Martin in The Scientist and the Supermodel is the mom everyone wants to have, loving, understanding and wise.

I love writing Male/Male romance because it frees me from many gender roles and lets me be more fluid and inventive in terms of the relationships. In my own life, however, I have very close female friends whom I value intensely. I think these wise women I write are teaching me something important about the kind of woman I want to be and the friends I love to have. What kind of female characters do you like best?

If you'd like to win a copy of Deceptive Attraction, leave a comment here with your email and also hop over to http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com and leave a comment with email and follow the blog. That will get you 2 entries in the drawing Friday Oct 4. :  )

And here's a little taster of Deceptive Attraction...

 

Excerpt R: Deceptive Attraction by Tara Lain; M/M/F Contemporary

Available from Loose Id

 

Caleb Martin faces a life crisis -- and he's pretty embarrassed about it. A talented soccer star, he has the chance to sign a lucrative five year contract and be rich and famous. Two problems -- Cal is gay and signing the contract means he has to stay in the closet, maybe for life. Plus, he'll have to spend his years diving for soccer balls when he'd like to be helping people like the rest of his family. A one-night stand with a beautiful man rocks Cal, but the guy vanishes only to reappear where Cal is house-sitting. Too much coincidence? And then a cute tomboy throws Cal's life choices into confusion. How could he wind up with a commitmentphobe and a woman dedicated to her work in Africa? Oh yeah, and then there's a big surprise in a snowstorm. Cosmic joker strikes again.

 
Having Eli's tongue in his mouth again felt like heaven. He wanted to keep it there forever. But damn, he wanted to know what the hell was going on even more.

Cal pulled his head back, feeling like he was recovering from some heavy drug. "Hang on. What the fuck is happening?" He looked at Eli. "Why are you here? How did you get here?" He raised his head and looked around. "Where's Angel?"

Eli leaned his forehead against Cal's chest. He sounded like he'd nearly drowned and needed life support. "I think she ran upstairs. I think she was upset."

"Shit."

"Why was she upset, Cal?" The gold eyes looked up at him.

"Hell no. I don't owe you any explanations, and I'm not doing this one-on-one. Come with me." Cal grabbed Eli's wrist. The guy might be strong, but Cal was stronger. So he got off when Eli dominated him in bed, but not now, buddy. Cal wanted some answers. He dragged Eli through the great room and up the stairs to the second level. A few doors down the hall, he stopped in front of Angel's room. The door was closed. He tried the handle. Locked. "Angel, it's me. Open the door."

From inside the room, he heard a muffled reply. "Go away. You have what you want."

"Women!" Fuck, he'd never expected to say that in his life. He banged on the door. "Angel, open the damned door, or I'll kick it down and ruin Roan's beautiful woodwork."

Eli leaned against the door. "And I'll have to fix it."

There was a pause, then a click, but the door didn't open. Cal pushed the handle down and shoved. Success. Angel had made it all the way back to her bed and was sitting, arms crossed over her chest, her back against the headboard, looking like a beautiful, sulky teenage boy.

Still holding Eli's wrist, Cal pointed to the other side of the bed. "Sit." He released him, and Eli did as he was told with a tiny, wry smile.

Okay, had to get out of this fucking suit before he did one more thing. He ripped at his tie and pulled it off, removed his suit coat, folded it over a chair, and kicked off his shoes. He glanced up to find gold eyes and brown ones gazing at him. Angel looked like she would gladly slit his throat, and Eli looked like the whole thing was damned funny. Neither said a word.

Let 'em wait. He took a few more minutes getting comfortable than he absolutely had to, then sat on the end of the bed opposite Eli, his body turned halfway toward each of them. "Nobody is leaving here until I know what's going on. Got it?" No response from the peanut gallery. He pointed at Eli. "You. You left me. I woke up, and you were gone. What the fuck did you think, I was going to try to drag you to a preacher or something?"

"Cal, I'm sorry…"

"I know, I know, relationship rhymes with commitment."

"Kind of. I can't explain completely. I have this really complicated life that's not good for anyone, and it makes it hard for me to get close to people." He'd been looking at his hands, and now he looked up, gold eyes shining. "But shit, Cal, I've missed you so bad. Every day I wake up thinking of you."

Cal couldn't decide if he wanted to throw himself at the man or throw something at him. There were too many more questions. "Is that why you're here? You looked for me?"

Eli looked down again. "No. I didn't even know your last name."

Angel chimed in. "And speaking of names, you said your name was Edward. How come he calls you Eli?"

"My professional name is Edward, but my real name is Elijah. Part of that complicated life."

Cal took over. "So if it wasn't to find me, why are you here? This can't be a coincidence."

"I agree, it looks really weird, but somehow it actually is a coincidence. I was in New York visiting, uh, family. A friend called me and told me there was a great gay bar in Brooklyn and he'd meet me there. You know the rest of that. The next day, I got a call from, uh, a family member saying there was a woodworking job up for grabs because some other guy had backed out due to scheduling. He gave me a number for your contractor, and the guy hired me based on referrals. What are the chances we'd meet both places? Shit, that is serious coincidence."

Cal had almost lost track of Angel until he heard her voice laced with sarcasm. "Well, that explains everything oh so neatly, except what the hell the two of you are doing sitting on my bed?"

She hadn't moved from her cross-armed posture, brown eyes glowering. Pieces started falling into place in Cal's brain. WTF? He pointed at Eli. "So you didn't even know I was going to be here, and yet I found you in the chummiest of conversations with Angel, who, despite all appearances, is a woman! What exactly were you doing?"

Eli grinned. "Flirting." He shrugged. "Just because I like guys doesn't mean I don't like girls too, and she's adorable."

Cal grumbled. "I know."

Eli frowned. "Yeah, you sure as hell must know for her to be so upset at us kissing. What do you two have going, my gay friend?"

Angel piped in. "We were lovers."

Instead of exploding as Cal expected, Eli laughed. "Well, look at you, you tricky bisexual devil."

It was Cal's turn to pout. "I never said I didn't like girls."

"When was the last time you had sex with a female, not counting Angel?"

"Umm, five years ago."

"So that doesn't exactly make you an ardent bisexual." The gold eyes focused on Angel, who was watching this whole exchange like a Ping-Pong game. "You do have your charms, little Angel."

She put hands on her hips, which looked funny, sitting cross-legged as she was. "If you two have finished airing your laundry, why don't you leave my room since, despite my charms, I seem to have outlived my usefulness to both of you." She looked brave, but the tears in her eyes made her a liar.

Cal looked at her. Shit. He wanted Eli, he was sure of that, but the idea of walking out of Angel's room made his stomach ache. Still, he didn't know what to say. He got up slowly from the bed and took a few steps toward the door.

"Hey, big guy, if you don't want her, I sure as hell do."

Cal spun on the man. "What the fuck, Eli? You kissed me."

"Yeah, well, I just know you better. I was working up to kissing her."

Angel leaned forward. "Excuse me?"

Eli ignored her.

Cal was going to kill the man. "What in the hell do you want from me?"

Eli gave him a level gaze. "Why don't you answer that?"

"You want sex. That's all you wanted then, and I don't imagine that's changed." Crap, why should that feel like a stab in his heart?

Eli looked down for a moment, then back at Cal. "That's not completely true. Hell yes, I want sex with you. I picked you, remember, out of a lot of choices. You are something special, and if circumstances were different, I might want more." He shrugged. "But it is what it is."

Cal sneered. "It's not me; it's you."

Angel gave a little snort.

Eli smiled. "Yes, but that doesn't mean we can't have sex."

Angel leaned forward. "Then get the hell out of my room."

Eli ignored her again. "What do you want, Cal?"

What did he want? Romance, white picket fences? How did that fit into his life? He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Do you want to walk out of here like Angel said?"

Never have Angel again? Never have Eli again? Cal shook his head.

"So…?"

A whisper was all he could manage. "I want you."

"Just me?"

"No, I want Angel too."

"How the hell does that work?" She threw a pillow but missed Cal's head by a mile. Not a great pitcher.

Eli smiled like a wolf that'd just cornered little Red. "How it works is that Cal takes off all those clothes, climbs on this bed, and proves just how bisexual he is while I fuck the hell out of his ass."

 

E-mail:                   tara@taralain.com

Website:              http://www.taralain.com

Author blog:       http://taralain.blogspot.com

Book blog:           http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com

Goodreads:        http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4541791.Tara_Lain

Savvy Authors:  http://www.savvyauthors.com/vb/member.php?2398-Tara-Lain

Twitter:               http://twitter.com/taralain

Facebook:           http://www.facebook.com/people/Tara-Lain/100001514105686

FB Page:       http://www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Lain/205042046209804

 

 

Reaper available now! And #9 at Samhain!

Squee! I've been waiting for this one for what seems like MONTHS but finally Reaper is here! As it was just released yesterday, I about fell through the floor this morning when I logged on and found it on the bestseller list at Samhain! (And I'm still excited enough to get proof - if only to convince myself it's real (clickie for larger)

 

 

So, while I carry on being all excited over here, let me leave you with some info on Reaper. Oh, and head on over to Moira Rogers Apocalyptathon! Not only will you find an interview and giveaway with yours truly but with other authors, there are chances to win books and a grand prize (click here)

The World after the End of the World will never be the same again…

Sanctuary. Clichéd name, but the sentiment is still the same. Ten years after the end of the world, ex-soldier Mason and a small group of humans defend their fortified town against creatures of myth and legend made real. But with dwindling game to hunt and a lycan pack in the area looking for an easy meal, just surviving is getting harder every day.

Andy has a few screws loose, and she knows it. She's been on the road since the bombs fell and changed humanity forever. Driven by inhuman instincts, she tracks the newly and soon-to-be dead and dispatches their souls to the afterlife. Sometimes they go quietly, most put up a fight. She doesn't care either way. Her ambition in life is to find her next hit of coffee and one day, maybe, sleep in a real bed again.

Then Andy's instincts bring her to Sanctuary and its enigmatic leader, Mason, and even the world after the end of the world will never be the same again… 

Product Warnings

Contains a snarky female Reaper with a hair-trigger temper and a caffeine addiction, a hot ex-commando with an attitude and a twisted sense of humour and a happily ever after that defies death itself.

Available NOW from Samhain Publishing | Amazon UK | Amazon

Welcoming back Tara Lain!

Hey all! Today I'd like to welcome back Tara, who's going to be talking about writing those steamy scenes in her novels and her latest release, Golden Dancer! Take it away, Tara!

***

 Keeping the Spice in Sex Scenes

Hi everyone. I'm delighted to be back visiting Mina. As you know, Mina and I write pretty steamy books. One of the things I get asked most often as an erotic romance writer is "how do you write all those sex scenes and still make them fresh?" First, let me say I have only written eight books (four published, two soon to be published, one contracted and one in progress). Ask me again after 18 (I hope to be so lucky) or 80 (I hope to live so long) and I will give you a more authoritative answer. But I will try to reply based on my limited experience.

Some basic principles. A sex scene has to have a reason for being and that reason is (almost) never "to have sex." Like all scenes, a sex scene needs to advance the plot and/or reveal character both to the character himself and the reader. In my new release, Golden Dancer, the investigative reporter, Mac, has an unexpected sexual encounter with Trelain, the beautiful male ballet dancer. This scene causes Mac to begin to question whether or not he's straight and, most important, sets up the obsession with Trelain that drives him through most of the book. Golden Dancer is a M/M/M ménage so it has to have scenes that show the growing relationship of each man to the other. These scenes are often fraught with inner conflict since Mac is actually investigating Daniel, his lover, for art theft though Daniel doesn't know it. The scenes must take Mac from "Okay Daniel is a good lover and Trelain is attached to him" to scenes in which he realizes his own growing attachment to the man he is investigating.

So, when I consider adding a sex scene to a book I ask "why does this scene exist"? What is it designed to accomplish? What will it show? Answering those questions helps determine the action of the scene,  it helps shape the dialogue, the internal thoughts and feelings of the POV character. And, if I stay true to the characters' voices and back-stories, that automatically makes each sex scene different from others that I've written. At the end of the scene I ask myself "have we learned what we need to know from this scene"? Has it moved the reader in a certain way? If so, it's probably a sex scene unique from others in at least significant ways.

Obviously, sex scenes are designed to make the reader feel, well … sexy! So first they have to make me feel that way. If I write a scene mechanically, I go back and start to add the touch, taste, smell, visual interest, and above all, the feelings of the characters. Because I write in deep point of view (or try to) I lock myself into the experience of the point-of-view character and I know when he feels deeply so will I.

I will add that I also write a lot of ménage – of my seven books, six including Golden Dancer are centered on or involve ménage in some way. Having three characters to play with does make for a certain level of variety not available from two-person sex scenes.

But then again, ask me again after ten more books.  :  )

If you'd like to enter to win a copy of Golden Dancer (or a copy of my summer romance novella, Volley Balls) please leave a comment here with your email address. I will copy it into the drawing on Oct 8. If you'd like to have more than one entry in more than one drawing for these prizes, go over to my Book Blog http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com and post a comment with email. Read the post and you'll see that there are MANY ways to add entries and increase your chances of winning. But first, COMMENT HERE! Thanks again to Mina and thank  you so much for visiting the blog!

 ***

Excerpt: Golden Dancer by Tara Lain, M/M/M Romantic Suspense

Available from Loose Id

A reporter and the thief he's investigating fall for a golden dancer forging a ménage of love and lies that could send one to prison and one to the morgue. Uncovering secrets requires baring more than just the soul.

 

The ballet had been restaged. Instead of a lyrical rose enchanting a debutante as in the original, Medveyev was now a biker bad boy creeping into the bedroom of a rich girl. Fokine's choreography had been modernized. Even the familiar von Weber music got a bit of an atonal twist.

The dancer had leaped on the stage, stalking the sleeping girl like some kind of feline predator, his famous mane of golden hair flowing over his shoulders. Christ, Mac's hands felt damp just thinking of it. And when the moment had come for Medveyev's grand exit, escaping the girl's outraged father in this version, he flew into the air and through the window. Fucking eagle. Audiences would shit. Especially the women. The Russian was fire, burning so bright, you couldn't look away, even though you knew it would turn you to ashes. Jesus, he'd better not put that in the review.

"Good afternoon."

Mac started and looked up. He hadn't heard a sound. Medveyev stood inside the rehearsal room door. Maybe he'd conjured the guy.

Controlled. That was the first thought Mac had. His hair was wound tightly in a queue at his nape, showing off his face. And that face was architectural perfection. High cheekbones under large, slightly slanted eyes. Maybe a little Tartar in there someplace a few generations back. The beauty suggested exotic and wild, but Mac saw none of it.

The only emotion? Wariness. Probably hated reporters. He still wore the form-fitting blue jean-looking tights he'd performed in, but he'd layered a silk shirt over the smooth, taut chest. Funny. He wasn't tall. Maybe five feet ten. Mac would tower over him. On the stage, he looked like a god. Of course, he was doing a pretty good god imitation right now. Like Adonis.

Mac stood. "Good afternoon, cavalier. I'm MacKenzie…uh, Mac MacAllister from the Daily Window."

The dancer gave a small smile. Good, the "cavalier" reference gained Mac a couple points. Proved he wasn't a rube.

"Mac…Kenzie, I don't believe we have met before. Mr. Hirschfield is…?" He waved an elegant hand in question.

"Sick. Sorry. I'm filling in."

"I see." Medveyev hadn't moved from beside the door. Mac wondered if he'd just leave. He stood like a statue in the familiar toes-out position. It reminded Mac of his parents. Dancers' hips were trained so that their feet naturally fell into that stance.

Shoot. Mac didn't want him to leave. "I'm sorry Hirschfield isn't here, but I'll give this story top priority, I promise."

The golden head tilted down as Medveyev looked Mac over. Crap. Maybe his hoodie and jeans were a bit out of character for the New York Ballet Theatre. Probably should've shaved closer, but this was him. Tough shit. Still --

"I assume this is not your regular, how do you say…beat, Mac…Kenzie?" His accent was mostly British, mostly posh, with a little rough Russian and Cockney creeping through.

"Yeah. I'm a hard-news reporter usually."

"And Ms. Chan sent you here because…?" Again with the hand wave.

"I grew up around ballet. My parents are dancers."

That got his attention. "MacAllister, did you say?"

"Yes, my father is Devin MacAllister. My mom's…"

"Shauna Rendell." He gave his first real smile. All those sculpted planes softened, and dimples appeared, making Mac realize that the dancer was very young, probably no more than twenty-four or -five. Amazing what he'd accomplished in his short life. "I know your parents, of course." Somebody must have pushed the Go switch, because Medveyev crossed the space and took the chair opposite where Mac had been sitting. "Sit, sit." The hands waved as if the dancer had been trying to get him to sit for hours.

Mac sat. Crisis averted.

"How are your parents? I haven't seen them since my last trip to Dallas."

"They're well. Hate Dallas, love teaching, so they stay."

"Ah yes, Texas, cowboys, and yee-haa. But still proud of their ballet. Your parents have elevated the company there. They are splendid professionals."

Mac smiled. His parents were going to freak when he told them about this conversation. "They'll be honored with your compliment. They're big fans."

Hand wave. Shy glance. "Ah. As you say. Now, what may I tell you about our little ballet, Mac…Kenzie?"

Man, the guy was just beautiful. Hard not to notice. "Just Mac. I wondered how the audiences in New York received the restaging of such a time-honored classic."

Medveyev had been looking at his hands but glanced up. His eyes were actually turquoise blue, like the stones in a Native American necklace. "I'm sure you've seen some of the reviews."

Mac nodded.

"The adventurous and avant-garde receive it with open arms. The purists?" He shrugged. "Shit their bloody pants."

Mac's laugh exploded. "Crap. I will just bet." He felt warm hearing the dancer's musical laugh. "Man, I gotta tell you, you are one bad-ass dancer."

The head cocked. "And bad-ass is…good ass, yes?" He glanced over his shoulder, looking at his own round, hard-muscled buttocks on the chair.

Okay, that was coy, but Mac was game. "Yeah, very good ass." Turquoise eyes met his, and Mac quickly turned to his notes. "So I've got some questions…"

For the next few minutes he was a good little boy and asked all the appropriate questions about the ballet. The challenge of the new choreography, how Medveyev trained for the famous flying exit through the window, what he was dancing next -- all the usual stuff. But some of Debbie's personal mojo kept pushing at him.

"So, cavalier, do you have a wife or a girlfriend?"

He got the unwavering stare. "I'm sure it cannot have escaped your notice that I am homosexual."

Man, the way he said that word was a sexual experience all by itself. "I wouldn't assume."

The dancer sat back in his chair. "I appreciate that."

"So, do you have a partner?"

"Not at the present time." One pale eyebrow rose. "Do you plan to put that information in your review?"

Mac paused. Why had he asked the question? "Actually, I was thinking maybe the Window could do a more personal story on you -- I mean, if you're open to such an idea." Yeah, actually that would be cool. Woo would love to have the gorgeous superstar featured on the site. "I mean, I'll still do the review. It'll be posted tonight, but maybe the other story could come later. I could e-mail you some questions, talk on the phone, you know." Jesus, that could be a good story.

"Many people have written about me, but I do not relish coming off as a pop star, or a bloody porn star for that matter."

Mac warmed to his own subject. "No, see, I'm no dancer, but I know the craft, you know? I can write it from that perspective. Of course, I'd want to tell your personal story too, as a dancer. But not anything you don't want to reveal. I'm no tabloid reporter."

The gaze never wavered, then Medveyev smiled. Dimples appeared again, startling in those sculpted cheeks. "I have a better idea. Why don't you take me to dinner tonight and get as personal as you wish?"

 

E-mail:                   tara@taralain.com

Website:              http://www.taralain.com

Author blog:       http://taralain.blogspot.com

Book blog:           http://beautifulboysbooks.blogspot.com

Goodreads:        http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4541791.Tara_Lain

Savvy Authors:  http://www.savvyauthors.com/vb/member.php?2398-Tara-Lain

Twitter:               http://twitter.com/taralain

Facebook:           http://www.facebook.com/people/Tara-Lain/100001514105686

FB Page:       http://www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Lain/205042046209804

New release and pre-order news!

*bounces with excitement, or sugar overdose. Not sure which today*

The second in the Avalon series, I Put a Spell on You, releases today from Summerhouse Publishing!

Once a hunter, always a hunter...

Gwen and her young lover, Jasen, have been on the road for six months. With Jasen infected, they need to find the Lycan who bit him before time runs out. But with each full moon, the pack eludes them, forcing Gwen to take desperate measures.

Once a hunter, unless you're something else...

To save Jasen, Gwen must walk on the darker side of her nature and use skills she swore never to use again. Because there's more to this hunter than meets the eye, and once pandora's box is opened...life will never be the same again.

 

Available NOW from Summerhouse Publishing | ARe | Amazon | Amazon UK | Smashwords

 

 

 

 

 

 

And thats not all!! Reaper, my little post apocalyptic 'baby' project is now available for pre-order!

 

The World after the End of the World will never be the same again…

Sanctuary. Clichéd name, but the sentiment is still the same. Ten years after the end of the world, ex-soldier Mason and a small group of humans defend their fortified town against creatures of myth and legend made real. But with dwindling game to hunt and a lycan pack in the area looking for an easy meal, just surviving is getting harder every day.

Andy has a few screws loose, and she knows it. She's been on the road since the bombs fell and changed humanity forever. Driven by inhuman instincts, she tracks the newly and soon-to-be dead and dispatches their souls to the afterlife. Sometimes they go quietly, most put up a fight. She doesn't care either way. Her ambition in life is to find her next hit of coffee and one day, maybe, sleep in a real bed again.

Then Andy's instincts bring her to Sanctuary and its enigmatic leader, Mason, and even the world after the end of the world will never be the same again… 

Product Warnings

Contains a snarky female Reaper with a hair-trigger temper and a caffeine addiction, a hot ex-commando with an attitude and a twisted sense of humour and a happily ever after that defies death itself.

Available for Pre-order from Samhain Publishing | Amazon UK | Amazon

#sixsunday : Hard as a Rock

Whoa, it's that time of week again! I swear I blink and weeks thunder by en-mass :S Okay, so here's my six sentences for this week. They're from a little paranormal erotica I've been playing with called 'Hard as a Rock' which should release this week. Here, the heroine confronts an unwelcome visitor…

 

Folding my arms, I leaned against the door jam and gave him my best 'I don't want to have this conversation now' look. Like seriously. I'd rather eat razor blades and gargle bleach than rehash why we'd split up.

The dumb-fuck just stood there, all neatly pressed suit and tie. His banker uniform I called it, and I hated it. I hated suits even though I wore one on a regular basis.

Thanks for checking out my six! For other entries into Six Sentence Sunday, head on over to http://www.sixsunday.com

SSS: Faery Wedding

So, I thought I'd ring the changes this weekend with a six from A Faery Wedding – which released from Etopia Press this weekend.

 

True to form, Lord Archer had ignored 'acceptable behavior in company' and gone right through to 'the best way to embarrass every member of my immediate family.'

Currently he was making a crude gesture with his tongue at the Rubenesque priestess. Which was bad enough. What was worse was that he'd acquired a tongue piercing since Dev had seen him two days ago. Something which did not make him look hip, happening, or in the least cool. It just made him look more of a pervert than he already was.

SSS: More Solar Storm!

I'm still on a Solar Storm kick. This section is where our intrepid couple take back command of the ship, right before the proverbial hits the fan!

 

"Yeah, one of them." Kelwin cut him off, a bored note in his voice. "Soldier…killer of pirates and small children. Already had this conversation. Bored now. Who are you working for?"

SSS: Solar Storm

So, this is from a brand new story I'm playing with. A sci-fi 'thing' with space squid!

Then she realized he wasn't arguing, and that his blue eyes had darkened to the color of a midnight sky. She was so close she could feel the heat rising off his body. A body that was as toned and muscled as she remembered ten years ago, when she'd allowed herself a bride's anticipation of her wedding night. He smelt so good, the faint traces of aftershave and pure, unadulterated Kelwin wrapping around her in an inescapable embrace.

Shit.

SSS: I put a(nother) Spell on you!

Sorry guys, I'm still on a 'I Put a Spell on You' , the sequel to Thrill of the Night, kick. This section is shortly after last week's

 

"What does a pretty girl like you need a wolf's tooth for? That kind of thing doesn't come cheap, you know."

"I'm gonna make it into a necklace to match this gorgeous gypsy top I have…" I started in a "girly" voice, then stopped and glared at him. "What do you fucking think? I'm going to ram it up a werewolf's ass and make him sorry he's not vegetarian."