Beth D. Carter's Blog, page 38

Lauren Alder Visits Talking about "The Codex of Desire"!

Hello Lauren!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!  It’s such a pleasure to chat with you.  So tell me…


Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?
The original premise for “The Codex of Desire” was inspired by a non-fiction book: “Ninja: 1000 Years of the Shadow Warrior” by John Man. In that premise, a warrior from the Samurai culture was captured by the Ninja culture and fell in love with a Ninja singer -- and all the characters were intelligent talking feathered dinosaurs.

Alas, the main dynamic that was there at the beginning (a “tale of star-cross’d lovers”, each from the opposite side of a centuries-long conflict) didn’t survive contact with the actual process of writing the book. It sometimes happens that way, and in writing “Codex” I saw:

-- the brave captive warrior Hero become the Damsel in Distress;
-- the ruler of the “Ninjas” become a ruthless female Chieftess whose primary goal was to coerce the warrior into her harem so that his fresh new seed could stimulate her flagging fertility;
-- the female Singer become a virtual mute with no agency of her own; and
-- the female slave, who had originally warranted a single line in the project outline, become the real Hero of the story.
Nobody could have been more surprised than me to realize, after finishing the first draft, that my character dynamics had shifted so dramatically. But I put a lot of trust in the subconscious Writing Machine ™ inside my head, and in this case the Writing Machine was fully in charge.
Q) Is this book part of a series?  If so, can you tell us about it?
This book MAY be part of a series, if I can get “Codex” itself off the ground. In the next novel, Raoul Deguchi (the human paleontologist who helplessly witnessed the tragic intersection of five dinosaur lives 67 million years in the past), is alive and active in the year 2030, and on a quest to find the alien tech Source-Forge which was central to the Culture of the Word. He is also Patient Zero for the spread of the Codex, an alien virus which retro-engineers its victims for superior intelligence as well as other unusual abilities, and there is a massive world-wide debate in progress about whether the Codex should be stopped -- or if it even CAN be stopped.
Q) Can you give a fun or interesting fact about your book?
The whole novel is a secret tribute to British author Richard Adams, whose classic animal fantasy novel “Watership Down” has been a major inspiration to me during my entire writing life. I re-read it at least once a year and if Mr. Adams was still alive, I like to think that he would have approved of “Codex”.
Q) What do you think is your strongest asset as a writer? …what is your weakest factor as a writer?
Strongest asset? According to my readers, that’s my ability to drum up drama and grab them by the heart. One of my beta readers recently pulled me aside at a convention and sat me down for fifteen minutes to tell me, with great feeling, how she had to keep putting “Codex” down because the emotional impact was just too intense… but then she had to go back and pick it up again, because she simply HAD to know what happened hext!

Weakest factor? I think that’s difficult for any writer to spot, but in my case it’s a tendency to be too wordy. A lot of that gets cut or tightened in the editing phase, but I know it’s there and I try to keep it under control..
Q) Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
To be original, definitely. If my book is well-written and interesting, it will find its audience -- and there are already plenty of writers out there who are “writing to the market”. To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with that (the romance novel industry runs on the “writing to the market” principle and there are fine books in that genre), but it’s just not something I’ve ever been interested in. I trust the Writing Machine ™ to take me where my story needs to go.
Of course, the big disadvantage of being original is that original often equals high-concept, and high-concept is notoriously hard to sell. But I’d rather be true to my own creative vision and have only a few dedicated readers, than write to a formula and get higher sales numbers.
Q) Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?
I sketch out their rough roles in the plot outline, but I’m definitely a gardener rather than an architect when it comes to characters: there’s a seed, but what comes out of that seed or which way the vines grow often comes as a surprise to me. (Remember the female slave who became the hero?)
Q) Do you want each book to stand on its own, or are you trying to build a body of work with connections between each book?

At the moment I’m writing stand-along books exclusively (although as noted above, “Codex” does have the potential for a sequel). But no, I’m not looking to build a universe where all my books tie together at the substratum layer.
Q) What are your upcoming projects?
For National Novel Writing Month 2018 (if any readers don’t know what that is, I strongly advise them to look it up), I’ll be taking my third kick at the can with a novel called “Where Darkness Falls”.

“WDF” is set in Chicago in the year 2038, so there are definitely sci-fi elements, but the plot focuses on two secret US government agents who are tasked with solving the mystery of a series of gory ritual murders. The agents of this particular agency are Manifesters, humans who possess supernatural abilities based on their particular religious/spiritual beliefs, and who as a hidden subculture go all the way back to the time of Hammurabi. The two MCs of “WDF” loathe each other on sight -- one is a Southern Baptist, the other is a Wiccan, and they’re both extremely bigoted against each other’s religious path -- but somehow they must overcome their mutual antipathy in order to avert Armageddon.
About the Book….
Lauren Alder wrote "The Codex of Desire" because a science fiction time-travel novel about intelligent feathered dinosaurs in tragic love triangles had never been written before — and she knew that she was just the one to accomplish it. 
"I set out to tell stories that provide readers with plenty to think about after the last page has been turned," Lauren says, "and I enjoy creating narratives that challenge my audience to look at reality in new and deeply engaging ways."



"The Codex of Desire" is the tale of a human paleontologist who touches an alien-forged metal band wrapped around the forearm of a small theropod dinosaur fossil, and is mentally transported back in time to experience the tragic intersection of five dinosaur lives.


"If you want an adult story brimming with love and violence, war and lust, secrets and betrayal — and featuring talking dinosaurs in the starring roles — then this is the novel for you," Lauren concludes.

Blurb….Love and violence, war and lust, lies and betrayal — even intelligent feathered dinosaurs fell prey to such savage impulses, more than 67 million years ago.
When Raoul Deguchi, a human paleontologist, touches the alien-forged metal band wrapped around the forearm of a small theropod dinosaur fossil, he is mentally transported back in time to experience the tragic intersection of five dinosaur lives.
Girn'ash, a shrewd and secretive female slave, falls in love with Tir'at~Esk, a dashing military prisoner — and will do anything in her meagre power to win his freedom. But Girn'ash's queen is determined to coerce the handsome warrior into her harem, and when so many ferocious desires collide it might doom an entire civilization to nuclear extinction.

About the Author….


Lauren Alder was born and raised in Winnipeg, where she currently lives with her husband. She is a freelance commercial artist, a past Eisner Award nominee, and a lifelong science nerd with an enduring interest in dinosaurs, history, and the sociology of food. "Codex" is her first novel, but will certainly not be her last.





FB author page: https://www.facebook.com/lauriesmithauthor/Twitter: https://twitter.com/lsmithnovelist
WordPress: https://laurenalder.home.blog

Where to buy….https://www.amazon.com/Codex-Desire-Tragic-Tale-Prehistoric/dp/1999409426/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1535991881&sr=8-1&keywords=the+codex+of+desire


Chapter 4: Tir'at

"Awake!"The shrill cry in the Inflection Low pierced Tir'at's cloak of warm slumber, stabbing him to the heart with a scythe-claw of ice-hot adrenaline."Awake!" The voice of a male Greatest — not the Captain — shrieked again in the darkness, only to be cut short in a wordless scream. "The Tribes! The Tri — AAAAAAAAAIEK!" Tir'at's eyes shot open, wide amber in the gloom under the fallen tree's roots. His view was upside down — his muzzle was still half-tucked under his wing — but he could see movement in the moonlit clearing beyond their refuge: many bodies, all Greatest, all big — and all leaping towards him —— no, not towards him: towards the main body of the Captain's unit, bunched together closer to the centre of the fallen tree's root-arch. Tir'at lay off to one side, separated from them by a full three body-lengths, and consequently he didn't appear to be a target — yet. He whipped his head up to take in the scene at a glance — a scene of violence and horror. A horde of Greatest females, more than two-fours, distinguishable from males by their larger size and more prominent red-tinged chest-ruffs, charged out of the forest and pounced upon the Culture's Warriors, their wings flaring savagely and their scythe-claws flashing forward to gouge into vulnerable flesh. The Warriors screamed and thrashed, trying to mount a defence, but there were so many Fighters of the Tribes swarming over them, clawing and biting with flashing teeth already black with blood in the moonlight —Sprays of red blood, so black in the moonlight, pattering to ground soaked from the earlier rain and rapidly trampled under gouging clawed feet.The moon waxed toward half-full, and was lowering into the west: it was close to midnight, although Tir'at realized with cold clarity that he would probably not live to see the dawn. Could he flee through these woods, in the dark, without knowing the way and without breaking his bones in a tumble down an unexpected ravine? More importantly, could he escape the rapacious female Tribal Fighters, who doubtless knew this terrain so well?It was his duty. He had to get word of this massacre back to the Culture's Settlement — and he had to be stealthy. Moving slowly, as if he were a leaf idly drifting in the wind (what a strange image, how unconscionably Primitive!), he levered himself to his feet and started edging past the curve of the tree-root, keeping his silhouette as small as possible and his body as low to the ground as he could, crest flattened and wings tucked in tight. The female Fighters were engrossed in killing their screaming prey — if he retreated skilfully, perhaps they would not notice him until he was slipping into the shelter of the forest —One of the Fighters, raising her long-muzzled head with a gobbet of still-living flesh clenched in her jaws, jerked her neck erect and looked directly into Tir'at's eyes. Before she could cry the alarm, he leaped fully to his feet and plunged away into the forest, into the shadows so deep that he might as well have been stricken blind.He ran as he had never run before — he, who was the swiftest runner any of his teachers had every seen. Everybody said so, and now he could only pray —— no, males of the Culture did not pray, females of the Tribes prayed — the Culture knew that scientific rationality was the only path to tread!Well, then — he trusted that his teachers had been correct, and that he would prove faster than any of his enemies. He ran, trusting instinct to guide his racing feet, to evade with an animal's sure senses any obstacle in his path — His instincts were not enough. Had the Codex not taught that animals, and those who behaved as animals, were doomed to certain failure?He never knew afterwards what he hit — a branch across the path, most likely, at exactly the right level to intersect his forehead as he bolted full-out, his spine as level as a spear in flight. The shock of impact exploded behind his eyes in a burst of blinding radiance, an all-consuming flare of pain — and then —— then he was on the ground, in the blackness, his wings an undignified sprawl in the mud around him, his hind legs already scrabbling for purchase, to push himself back onto his feet. He had barely managed to raise his head, feeling the hot trickle of blood running over his left temple and into the short feathers of his cheek, before a clawed foot descended on his neck behind his jaw and slammed him back to the earth, setting off another sickening wave of pain in his skull."What have we here?" a female voice sang above him in a hideously melodic Inflection Low[[[chirps, squeals, liquid burblings, trills, clacks of jaw, clicking of tongue... shamelessly musical... luxuriously richer in texture than the bare-bones spoken language of the Culture of the Word...]]]each deep-pitched word seeking its next song: "A flyer, a seeker, a curse of white sky-stone? A sweet little male, bereft and alone! He wears the Word on his arm, in his flight — but shall he find only death this night?"Tir'at tried to open his mouth, to say Kill me if you like, I will tell you nothing! But the female's foot crushed his throat, her scythe-claw pricking a fresh wound into his neck close to his spine, and no words would come. His last awareness was of many more heavy footfalls drawing swiftly nearer, and thought-consuming blackness even deeper than the night rushing in like a storm...

Blast from the Past...Spotlighting "Think of England" by Rebecca Fairfax

Two unbelievably gorgeous gryphon shifters, one Ellie… You do the math.Dr Eleanor Maxwell has spent her career working in shifter integration, so when a new shifter-human initiative is launched, she naturally agrees to lead it. But that’s before she knows it involves bringing Gerri Wilder to the UK to make matches between prominent shifters and humans…

Before Ellie can protest, she’s matched with not one but two devastatingly handsome and powerful beasts—identical twin gryphons Ludo and Jago Calter.
The aristocratic brothers don’t give a damn about serving their country by leading the way in this new initiative: they know Ellie’s their mate and they’re determined to claim her. They’ll start with this date, this match, whatever, sure, but after that, all bets are off.
Ellie is from a very different world to the wealthy, overwhelming twins—heck, she’s from a different species—and while she’s determined not to let them have their way in everything, she’s powerless to stop them having her…
Q&A Time
1.       Did you plot this book out or write wherever an idea took you?
I had the basic idea of a rather buttoned-up researcher meeting gorgeous, somewhat louche, upper-class twin gryphons (who doesn’t?!) and some ideas for scenes, but I’m sooo a plotter! For this book I stuck to Jami Gold’s romance planning beat sheet - Lost Your Pants? The Impatient Writer's Guide to Plotting a Story by Jami Gold -- http://jamigold.com
2.       What was your hardest scene to write in this book?
The black moment and what the heroes have to do to get the heroine back. I can write characters getting swept along by the tide of events, stopping for hot sex every so often (as one does), but find writing angst and sacrifice tougher.
3.       Did you hide any secrets or Easter Eggs?
No, but that’s intriguing!
4.       Do you believe a book cover plays an important role in the selling process?
Yes. For sure. Kelly Ann Martin of KAM Designs made me this gorgeous cover that a lot of people have remarked upon. It started the branding for this series.
5.       Any advice you would like to give to your younger self?
Don’t get so hung up and uptight about stuff. Mellow out. Life advice and writing advice, I guess!
EXCERPT
Jago trapped Ellie’s horrified face in his hands, a smirk on his gorgeous face. “You do like making men feel inadequate, love. Good job we’re not mere men and can match up to anything you have in mind. Or wherever else you’d…like it.” He slid a gentle hand into the tuck of her towel and pulled, unwrapping her, leaving her nude. “Beautiful.”
“Jago.” Ludo’s voice came as a reproach. “Ellie’s bone-tired and not in a state to—”
“Be pampered? Cosseted? Massaged?” His voice stroked her skin. “That bag there.” He lifted his chin for his brother to take out the contents of one of the gift bags. “Would you like that? Like us to get to know you, understand your body, learn what brings you pleasure?”
Her breath catching in her throat, her breasts heavy and her nipples crinkling into tight points, Ellie could only nod. Jago indicated the bed, and Ellie lay down, turning onto her front at his signal. He came to kneel between her spread legs.
“Wait.” Wide-eyed, Ellie watched Jago approach, a plastic bottle of oil in his hands. She’d never behaved like this before in her life. “Are you…are you doing this to me with your voice?”
“You mean do gryphons have the power of hypnosis over beautiful women?” Jago’s chuckle was rich and sexy. “I wish.”
“Yeah.” Ludo sighed. “Adolescence would’ve been a hell of a lot easier.”
WHERE TO BUY
https://www.amazon.com/Think-England-Paranormal-Dating-Britannia-ebook/dp/B07FQGKSSC/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1534937236&sr=8-4&keywords=think+of+england

New Paranormal Romance from Magali A. Fréchette!

Hello Magali!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!  It’s such a pleasure to chat with you.  So tell me…
Q) Is this book part of a series?  If so, can you tell us about it?
* This is the second and final book in a series called A Demon’s Love. It’s the first series within a universe of series, and so, readers will see these characters again in future books. This particular one follows Celina and Kai’s story: romance, betrayal, lies, and danger at every turn for both books. The newest release, MY LIFE TO TAKE, starts where we last left off in the first book, and so I definitely recommend reading the first one.
Q) Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
* Original, but I also don’t want to purposely write something I know writers would hate. But the story has been planned out in my mind for what seems to be forever, and so, while I’m open to change, some aspects are out of my hands.
Q) Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?
* The main characters are always planned out first. It’s from them that I build their story with.
Q) Do you want each book to stand on its own, or are you trying to build a body of work with connections between each book?
* Each as a connection to one another within the one universe called Monster’s Love. From there, many series with different books all interconnect to form one big story. I have written other stories that don’t connect at all though. 
Q) What are your upcoming projects?
* I signed my third contract with Evernight Publishing for the first book in the next series called Storm Owl Legend. This will follow new characters, and follow the events of a Demon’s Love series two years later. I’m planning on at least five books for this series, and am currently editing the second one.Blurb:
Everything Celina thought she knew was a lie.
Her husband’s murder, her family’s religion…nothing was what it seemed. The avenging blood on her hands is barely dry, but she’ll do whatever it takes to save this unshakable proof of their love. Even swallow her terror to fulfill the bargain that was sealed on a bed of lies.
But there’s little time for tender reconciliation. Demons are being murdered, their mutilated bodies marked with cryptic threats only Celina can decipher. When visions of the massacres plague her at every turn, Kai sends her back to the human world in the care of the demon she fears most.
Secured in Shiriki’s high rise, she must uncover her own shrouded history. The key to saving the dark realm lies in her past, but an angel with a diabolical mind may lead to their destruction.


Excerpt:She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “I’m fine.”            “And how are you feeling about us?” he asked quietly.
            She took a deep breath. “We have a lot to work on for the next while, but we’ll do it together.”
            “We will certainly do many things together,” he said with a lewd grin.
             In less than a second, he stood naked, his muscles rippling in the low lighting of the room. She ran her hands against his hard chest, her pulse racing as she stared at his pale skin.
            Mine.
            The word resonated inside her mind as she felt him invade her thoughts. He growled as he pressed her body against his, kissing along her neck as she closed her eyes. He felt so good, and he was hers as much as she belonged to him.
             “Your body, soul, and life are mine.” His tone darkened. “And although I never had a soul of my own, though my life is endless, you have all of me.”
              Before she could respond, he took her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. She moaned as he cupped her breasts, her nipples hardening under his touch. When he tugged at the hard peaks, their lips parted, and she let out a harsh breath.
              “I want you.” The words left her in a whisper, a plea from the need pulsing through her.
              He lifted her in his arms and carried her to their bed, sitting her on its edge. Despite his gentleness, an animalistic expression flashed across his face as he stared. He crouched in front of her and glided his hand along her thigh.
               Heat filled her, burning so hot she was sure she’d combust. Licking her lips, she parted her legs. Her throbbing increased when his gaze traveled to her sex. He stared with such carnal desire, she was sure she’d orgasm.
              “You are so beautiful … and no one else will ever touch you.” He kissed her inner thigh and trailed his tongue across her skin, nipping along the way as she gasped.
                Letting herself fall onto the bed, her chest heaved as her stomach fluttered. He licked her swollen lips, and she trembled under the pleasure of his touch. He flicked her clit, and she whimpered. “Please.”
               His muffled groans against her wetness had her trembling, and she writhed as he sucked hard on her pink flesh. She grabbed hold of his hands holding her hips, digging her fingernails into his flesh, crying out.
               “Your screams are as delicious as you are, dove.”
              Running her fingers through his hair, she tugged, so he’d look at her. He growled at being denied, his gaze darting to her sex as he licked his lips.
               She panted. “I want you.”
               He stood. Feathers flew around him, black as night. Within seconds, the feathers falling around him dissipated into smoke, leaving Kai in his true form. Her demon.
               The horns on his head held the same red arcane symbols, glowing brightly. He folded his black wings as he took a step closer, the darkness behind his red irises sending a shiver down her spine. Her chest heaved as she crawled farther onto the bed and reached her hand out to him. She wished she had the words to tell him how much she loved him, but showing him would be better.              He chuckled as he got onto the bed, even kneeling he towered over her like a looming shadow waiting to pounce. “You do not need to use words. I can feel it radiating off you as easily as I smell your lust.”
Buy Link:
Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/my-life-to-take-by-magali-a-frechette

About the Author:
Magali A. Fréchette writes the darker side of stories. Paranormal, dark fantasy, and mystery/thriller, but always with romance – she’s an extremist and loves both dark and cute things. All her stories are either set in Canada, or in alternate worlds (makes sense since she’s Canadian, right?).Magali wrote her first story when she was 12 years old (and she’ll never speak of it again!), but started taking her writing seriously three years later. Since then, she always writes. It’s always been a dream to be a published author, and she can happily say she’s reached that first goal and plans on continuing writing and publishing for the rest of her days.

Q & A with Petrina Binney!

Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?
My series, ‘Sex, Death and Dinner’, is a mixture of domestic suspense and murder mystery. So, I have a tight-knit group of people in a small village, who are all keeping secrets from each other.
At its heart, it’s a coming-out story, but the person who is in the process of accepting their sexuality has been married to a lecherous, manipulative bully for twenty years. Fiona has the least confidence of any of my characters, so her coming out feels very dangerous, as far as she’s concerned.
In the first book, ‘Sex, Death & Canapés’, there has been a murder in the area, and the people of Amberleigh decide to throw a series of dinner parties to prove that they’re not scared of this unknown killer in their midst. I won’t ruin it for you, but there’s more going on there than might be expected. However, during the dinner parties, Fiona, my protagonist, is obliged to be the consummate hostess even though she’s making dinner for neighbours who don’t really like each other, her disappointing husband of two decades, and the woman she’s been attracted to for some months.
I’ve been told the tension crackles from the page, which is good, because it should feel quite fraught. There are a lot of side characters but, it’s a murder-mystery – some of them will die.
The second novel in the series is ‘Sex, Death & Scallops’. It comes out on Friday, 7th September, on Amazon. In ‘Sex, Death & Scallops’, the characters are dealing with the aftermath of the most recent murder. So many of the other deaths have been planned with near-military precision, but the most recent has upset the applecart somewhat, because it came from nowhere.
Fiona is beginning to understand that her confidence has to come from within. She is not used to thinking of herself as much of anything really, however, in the course of the second book, a stranger appears. There’s some flirting. It’s a little awkward, but she realizes that she might be desirable. It’s a huge moment for her.
Of course, nothing is so simple. The stranger, Kitty, is quite creepy. She makes people nervous. She asks too many questions. Also, it becomes apparent that her flirting might just be a ruse to expose Fiona’s vulnerability.  Q) Is this book part of a series? If so, can you tell us about it?
Indeed. It is planned as a series of five books, the titles working through the courses of a meal. We start with canapés, then scallops, venison, a vegetarian alternative and finally, pudding. Over the course of the series, Fiona will learn to accept herself, and there will be a fairly impressive body count.  Q) Can you give a fun or interesting fact about your book?
It took me nine months to write the first book. The girlfriend of a buddy of mine read it in three days. I’m not sure if she went without sleep, but she certainly scolded herself for not getting back to work on time because she was reading on her lunchbreak.
I’m betting she’ll read the second book even faster.  Q) What do you think is your strongest asset as a writer? … what is your weakest factor as a writer?
My strongest asset is also my weakness: I can’t really focus on anything else until I’ve got this story out of my head. I’ve probably forgotten to pay a bill or buy a birthday card somewhere along the line, but this is what I have to do. Q) Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
I have a very specific writing voice. I had thought that I was ruder in written form, but actually friends who have known me for years have said that, even if my name was nowhere near the books, they would know I’d written them. In sounding only like myself, I can’t really deliver what readers want, but I can hope that I’ve managed it by accident.  Q) Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?
I like to think I’ve planned them, but I’m still things about them as I develop book three. I was surprised by an affair/death which was reflected on in ‘Sex, Death & Scallops’. I didn’t know it had happened until I saw what I was typing. Luckily, it works for the story in that it makes one character in particular seem quite terrifying. Given that she’s a little old lady, that’s no mean feat.  Q) Do you want each book to stand on its own, or are you trying to build a body of work with connections between each book?
Each book in this series is firmly rooted in the one that came before. I suppose a reader could find the characters in later books, and want to read the earlier ones, like a set of prequels, but I’d recommend starting at the beginning. Even though I have it planned out as five books, I really love Fiona Weaver-King, so I might have to bring her back in later novels.  Q) What are your upcoming projects?
I am working on book three, and doing a ton of research for book four. With my books ending on ‘Wha–?’ moments – not cliffhangers. I don’t want to leave people waiting for too long.

Blurb
Sex, Death & Scallops

A corpse, a seduction, and a plate of scallops…

With Roland King missing, and Jennifer Nugent headed to Amalfi with her husband, Fiona Weaver-King works hard to keep herself above suspicion.

Pottery and sauvignon can only go so far, but with a dozen new portraits hanging in the studio, and her garden equipped with a brand new quail run, as far as the village of Amberleigh is concerned, Fiona is far too busy to dispose of a body.
Only with the appearance of the strange and voluptuous Kitty Fairoc does suspicion begin to grow. Who is this unusual woman, with her keen eye and ready smile? An undercover police officer? A roving reporter? Or is she simply, and alarmingly, a flirt? And what does she want with Fiona?

Excerpt
“He read it over three times and nodded, satisfied. His speech had a tendency to run towards the clunky, branching seamlessly into the depraved. There was little question he was better in written form. With pen and paper, he could take his time, edit himself copiously, and find the precise word, the exact turn of phrase, to have her rushing for the batteries and the drawer beside her bed.”




Buy Links for Book One:

Kindle
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07FQDBGDR/ref=cm_sw_r_fm_apa_ccDuBb95D6E1Q
Paperback
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1717903207/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_apa_TWWyBb9015734
UShttps://amazon.com/dp/B07FQDBGDR/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_awdb_t1_37eyBb0C55DC4


Book Two in the Sex, Death & Dinner Series!

Author Info:

Petrina Binney is from 1980s south London. Daughter of a nurse and a carpenter, she spent much of her childhood writing stories to bring into school for whatever the eighties English equivalent of ‘Show and Tell’ was called.

She spent her teenage years avoiding all manner of naughtiness, instead writing copious amounts of self-indulgent poetry and reading multiple Brontes and Daphne Du Maurier.

In 2015, she hosted her first ever dinner party and, due to a heavy stomach and a slight bout of alcohol poisoning, dreamt up the character of Fiona Weaver-King.

Petrina spends the majority of her time in Devon, with her dogs, and drinking with older gentlemen.

Blast from the Past...Spotlighing "Capturing the Moment" by Delilah Night

You never forget your first love…

Meg and RJ were passionately in love. But that was six years and a broken engagement ago.

Meg has only one day in Siem Reap, Cambodia, before she must leave for her sister’s wedding in Bali. She fulfills her dream of taking a photograph of the sun rising behind Angkor Wat, one of the oldest temples in the world. But her joy is short-lived when she turns around to see RJ standing behind her.

RJ threw himself into work after Meg ended their relationship. He’s built a successful business, but it’s a hollow victory. He’s come to Siem Reap to win back the woman he’s never stopped loving. But first he has to convince her to spend the day with him.

Meg is as physically attracted to RJ as she ever was. Maybe the secret to finally getting over him is a one day only, no strings attached fling.

       Can RJ win Meg back, or will she love him and leave him?


1.       Did you plot this book out or write wherever an idea took you? I visited Cambodia in 2014, and I used my trip as the bones for Meg and RJ’s love story. I also understood where they were at the start of the book and where they’d be at the end. But I am a pantser by nature and most of the book took me by surprise. I didn’t know anything about their past relationship until I was writing the book

2.       What was your hardest scene to write in this book? There is a fight, where Meg and RJ have to confront their past if they ever want a future. I was sobbing as I wrote it. Even when I reread it, I feel all of the emotions I felt when writing it.

3.       Did you hide any secrets or Easter Eggs? I’m an amateur photographer, so all the photographs that Meg takes are photos that I took. I have shared some here, here, and here.

4.       Since the publication, what would you say has improved in your writing? I think I am less afraid of longer works. At the time, Capturing the Moment was the longest story I’d ever written, and it felt like running a marathon after only ever running 10ks. But having actually completed it, and having it published, gave me the confidence to sit down and write a novel. Capturing the Moment is roughly 25k words and my new novel is three times as long.

5.       Did you leave out anything in this book that you wished you hadn’t? I wish I’d had the confidence to extend the story. If I had, then we could have more from Meg’s sister who is one of my favorite characters. If you read the book you’ll see why!




Excerpt 
The first time RJ had kissed Meg was in the university library. Meg, Rachel and a group of Rachel’s friends were studying together. RJ had volunteered to go into the stacks with Meg to look for a source for her research paper. When he’d bent to examine the call numbers of the books on a low shelf, Meg had allowed herself a lengthy appreciation of the way the denim stretched over his butt.

You can’t grab his ass without an invitation. Put your hand down.

Meg had tried to be subtle as she’d shifted her stance. She’d squeezed her thighs together, knowing that night wasn’t going to be the first or last time she would masturbate to the idea of him touching her.

“Here it is—” The words had died in his mouth when he’d looked at her.

Meg’s pulse had pounded in her throat. He flirts with everyone… Does he likeme? Or is it just that I want him to?

Brown eyes that had always sparkled with mischief had darkened with arousal. RJ had put the book on a shelf and he’d invaded her personal space. He had been so close that Meg’s breasts would have brushed his shirt if she’d inhaled too deeply.

Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me—

He had leaned in. Meg had closed her eyes. Her skin had been so sensitized she could’ve sworn that she’d felt every stitch of every seam of her clothes. Especially her panties. It had been as if she could feel the individual flowers printed on the cotton of the bikini briefs. RJ’s lips had been gentle, hesitant. Then Meg had wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him.

The kiss had gone from zero-to-sixty in the space between one heartbeat and the next. Gentle had become hungry. Breathing had been no longer necessary for survival—only touching and being touched. When his thigh had slid between hers, Meg had shamelessly ground against him.

Rachel’s loud voice had shattered the erotic haze. “Oh look, it’s that row with the book I need.”

They’d broken apart guiltily.

Rachel’s lips had curved in a sardonic smile. “Oh wait, I needed a book from the fourth floor. This is the third. My bad.” She had turned and strolled off, but her voice had floated back to them. “And no, Romeo, I won’t give you my sister’s number. Looks like you have pretty good odds of getting it if you ask her, though.”




WHERE TO BUY Capturing the Momentis on sale everywhere!Amazon kindleGoogle BooksiBooks KoboNookTotally Bound

Amazon GC Giveaway from Lynn Burke for her NEW MC ROMANCE Release!

Digger Fallen Gliders #3Publisher: Evernight PublishingArtwork: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined ArtHeat Level: 4Keywords: MC Romance, Contemporary, Erotic  Be Warned: menage sex (MFM), anal sex, double penetration, bondage
Digger is one badass bastard hell-bent on protecting his Fallen brothers--no matter the cost. He’s also ugly as shit, scarred for life by one of the men who gang-raped his mother. Born of violence and only wanted by women for his massive cock, he lives an unfulfilled life while secretly yearning for more.Maci Irving is his opposite, a kind-hearted soul who wants to care for everyone she meets. She's also one of his brother's flavors of the month. Fuck the world, and fuck the dark sedan tailing him everywhere he goes—once he claims a taste of her he’ll do everything he can to keep her.
With his heart in her hands, can he convince Maci to stay with him and become his old lady, or will his violent lifestyle and its consequences end up to be more than she can bear?
BUY IT ON SALE NOW FOR ONLY $2.99 AT EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING! Evernight Publishing:   https://bit.ly/2omrRNt
OTHER RETAILERS: Amazon:  https://amzn.to/2POUejZNook: https://bit.ly/2BVOnGySmashwords: https://bit.ly/2LzivHqKobo: https://bit.ly/2N25GKpApple: https://apple.co/2PdQvv4B&N: https://bit.ly/2PoDWNRBookstrand:  https://bit.ly/2MAOBrH




EXCERPT:

“Capone said you could make me forget my own name,” she whispered while running her hands up over my chest.
My pecs flexed on their own beneath her firm touch. “Is that what you want?”
Lower lip sucking between her teeth, she nodded. Wetness coated her eyes, and fuck the goddamn ache that knifed through my chest. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” she whispered, pressing closer so her pussy rested against my straining cock.
Fuck, did she tempt me like no other woman I’d gotten my hands on. What she needed was rest, strong arms to hold her close as she slept.
I slipped my hand up over the back of her tight t-shirt, beneath her silken hair to hold her nape. “If you want to stop, just say so, and you have my word that we will.”
She leaned in and kissed me.
Mind fucking blown.
Soft and pliant, sweet yet minty … goddamn did I fall under the beautiful witch’s spell. Rather than take control and plunder the ever-loving shit out of her mouth, I held back, tracing my tongue along her lips rather than fucking her mouth. She opened to me with a sigh, and I gently threaded my fingers through her hair, angling her head.
My arm banded around her back, tugging her closer until her pert tits pressed against me. Slow rolls of my hips against her pussy tightened my balls and made her whimper against my lips.
Two pairs of fucking jeans in our way … and my brother I’d forgotten about.
I tore my mouth from Maci’s. Eyes hazed over, she stared at me, swollen lips parted.
Capone sat back in my chair, legs spread, hand sliding over his bulge, a smirk on his face. Fucker loved to watch almost as much as he loved to get his dick wet.
I massaged the back of Maci’s head and wiped the moisture off her lower lip with my thumb, torn over doing the right thing by taking a rain check until she was in a better frame of mind.
She flicked her tongue out, and I slid my thumb into her mouth without thought.
Goddamn. I groaned as she swirled her tongue and sucked. My cock jerked, and she ground her pussy against me. “Christ, woman.” Swallowing back another groan, I grabbed her ass in my palms and stood. Fuck it. I’d give her exactly what she wanted and then some. I just had to trust she’d stop us if it was too much.
Maci wrapped her legs around me as though they belonged there.
I nodded toward the hallway, and Capone hopped out of his chair to lead the way. He dimmed the lights as I knelt on the bed, sliding Maci to the center. She clung to me, but I pulled back onto my haunches.
Pale hair spread over my pillows, pulse in her neck fluttering, eyes wide and filled with need. The desire to see her like that every day of my fucking life welled over me like a nine-foot wave. Should have freaked me the fuck out. Shouldn’t have enjoyed the satisfaction sizzling through my blood. Mentally, I pulled back, telling myself to keep my suspicions in place. Keep myself safe from rejection.
“You’re fucking perfect,” I said, running my fingers up her thighs, over her hip bones, under her shirt. Her nipples pressed against the thin fabric, tight buds calling out for attention. I palmed her tits beneath her shirt, and she arched into my touch, lower lip once more between her teeth.
“You like my hands on you.”
“God, yes.” She gasped as I rolled both nipples between my fingers.
“Capone?” I scooted back and flicked the button on her jeans as my brother climbed onto the bed and took over where I’d left off with her tits.
Maci gasped as he closed his mouth over her nipple, t-shirt and all, grasping the back of his head to hold him close.
 A muscle in my jaw flinched to see his mouth on her, but our time together was for her pleasure, fulfilling one of her fantasies—not getting my balls twisted with jealousy.
She doesn’t belong to you,I told myself while sliding down her zipper.
Yet, another voice whispered in my head, clenching my jaw. © Lynn Burke 2018

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Other books in the Fallen Gliders series: Nicky, Fallen Gliders #1 Hawk, Fallen Gliders #2
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ABOUT LYNN BURKE: Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurkeInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburkePinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorlynnburke/

Q & A with E.D. Parr!

Hello! E. D.

Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!  It’s such a pleasure to chat with you.  So tell me…
Q) Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?
I write stories that pop into my head and hope that they will resonate with someone. I’d love to think that the love stories I write are what readers want. I don’t think there’s enough love in the world, but even so, my stories are character driven. I always have a happy ending. We all deserve one.
I like to think there’s originality in my work but I don’t set out to produce it per se. When I look at the body of my work I see originality in the story plots, but the theme of love is always there.
Q) Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?
I never plan my characters. They’re there before I start the story. Somehow, I just know them. I generally love them, even if one or two of them are flawed. I think that’s a realistic portrayal of people. Who’s perfect after all and as long as they redeem themselves a little that works for me. They do develop but never stray from their initial imprint in my imagination.
Q) What are your upcoming projects?
I have three MM romance submissions into my publishers right now.
One is a Christmas story I just had to write. The characters wouldn’t stop nagging me until I did. It’s a frosty little story. (Grins)
One is a love story, The Romantic. It’s about a man who loses his boyfriend, and although they hadn’t been together long, he’s shocked at how much it hurts to lose the potential of love. He wants love. He’s a book forager, and in a dusty box of old books, he discovers a book of prayer spells to the old gods. Naturally, the romantic has to cast a spell for love.
I think that’s enough of a spoiler. (Smiles)
The other story is a sci-fi/fantasy MM romance with a little twist of suspense.





New release
MM romance A Virtual KissE.D. ParrEvernight Publishing
ON RELEASE SPECIAL PRICE at Evernight Publishing https://www.evernightpublishing.com/a-virtual-kiss-by-e-d-parr/ RRP: $2.99Your Price: $2.24
(You save $0.75)



Hunky Nate Hathaway can’t resist the lure of private Virtual Reality rooms in a new Internet café that opens on the street where he works. He’s lonely and intrigued by the VR program offering a boyfriend experience. After only one date, Nate is hooked on Jason, the sexy, kind VR character.

Jason Graeme is the computer wizard behind the hot new VR programs. He’s a risk taker, smart and gorgeous. He’s also the body model for the boyfriend. A twist of fate brings Nate to his attention. Determined to meet dishy Nate, he reveals who he is.
Passion sizzles between the two men as they fall in love.

Trouble is Nate’s not the only guy in town who uses the boyfriend experience.

Read the teaser

“Hi, babe. It’s great to see you.” The guy greeted Nate and then kissed him.
Nate’s entire body went into meltdown. The kiss was so real he grabbed the VR man and pulled him close, crushing against him.
The man returned the kiss but gradually drew away. He held Nate’s hand and brought him to a table outside the café. “Let’s get coffee. Did you eat yet? You look tired.” He reached out a hand and swept gentle fingertips down Nate’s cheek.
Surprised at the comforting gesture, Nate closed his eyes for a second to soak up the touch. He opened them and gazed at his VR boyfriend. “I’d like to hear about your day. I’m not hungry, coffee’s fine.” What will I call him? Does he have a name or do I just assign him one? Hell, he is gorgeous.
A server brought coffee. “How lovely to see you again, Jason, and you’ve brought Nate along tonight. The usual for you both?”
Nate blinked under the beaming smile from her. How does it know my name? Must read the credit card or Cory keys it in when he sets the room going.
She placed their cups on the table.
Jason. Nate smiled at his VR man. Yeah. I like that—a mythical name for an unreal guy.
Jason locked his gaze with Nate’s. Attraction and desire flared unmistakably in the cobalt eyes.
Nate’s stomach clenched. He leaned a little forward to take in the affection from his boyfriend’s expression. Comfort, warmth, and gratitude mixed with the urgent need to kiss Jason again. He looked down at the table, unsure how to go on.
Jason stood and pulled his chair along next to Nate’s. He sat and slipped an arm around Nate’s shoulders. “Hey.” Jason held his jaw and lifted his head. “Kiss me.”
Nate looked into the blue eyes.
Jason’s lips met his. He merged his mouth on Nate’s in a soft press then lingered, dotting little kisses on Nate’s parted lips, before slipping his palm around Nate’s head and deepening the kiss.
Overwhelmed with the tenderness and sex in the kiss, Nate pulled away and stood. “I have to get back to work.”
Jason stood, too. He made a grab for Nate’s hand. “What, tonight? That’s unusual. Will I see you tomorrow?”
Nate stared at the gorgeous man, shocked at the realistic way Jason’s voice held need and worry. 
“Yes, of course. I better go now.” Unable to resist, he hugged Jason close. It was just as if he held a real man to his body. He soaked up the feel, let go of Jason, and strode to the wall where the door to the room had been. The VR scene provided a row of shops along the wall. As the dreamlike quality of the experience remained, Nate sighed and tried every one of the handles on the doors, until one swung inward and he charged out of it into the corridor. His credit card popped up from the device slot. Nate snatched it. He put it into his wallet as he walked the length of the corridor.
Cory drank coffee from a paper cup at his desk. He gave Nate a wave. “See you again.”
Nate passed him, dashed up the stairs, and raced along the corridor to the young woman’s desk at the entrance.
He called, “Good night,” walking quickly by her, and wove through the tables and computer desks until he pushed open the glass door and stepped into the evening air.
Nate froze in the cool breeze. He breathed deep. This was real. The café building behind him was cream brick, chrome, and dappled glass, the bank over the street serious gray stone blocks with an ATM inserted along one wall. Nate stalked along the sidewalk glad of the traffic nearby, happy with the occasional blast of carbon monoxide until he reached the entrance to the subway. He went down to the platform.
On the train home, he gazed ahead as he hung from a ceiling strap surrounded by late commuters. It’s as if I’ve been with a real person. I can just about feel his mouth on mine. Fuck, he’s hot. I wish he was real. Should I go tomorrow?
Copyright E.D. Parr 2018 Evernight Publishing, releasing Thursday August 23
https://www.bookstrand.com/a-virtual-kiss-mm
https://www.amazon.com/Virtual-Kiss-Romance-Go-Book-ebook/dp/B07GR72F4J
Global Amazon link http://a-fwd.com/asin-com=B07GR72F4J
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/890817
https://www.evernightpublishing.com/a-virtual-kiss-by-e-d-parr/
Find other E.D. Parr stories on Evernight Follow on TwitterFind information of the Facebook Page

Blast from the Past - Spotlighting "Second Time Love"

Second Time Love
After thirty years of marriage, Grace becomes widowed at age fifty, and never thinks she’ll love again.  That is until she goes on a trip meant for her and her late husband, and meets sexy Cole. She’s enchanted by him and the fun he’s having with his granddaughter on the beach.  Talk turns into more, and Grace is ready to open her heart to a second time love.






1.       Did you plot this book out or write wherever an idea took you? 
It started with a small idea – a woman grieving after losing her husband.  Then it kind of took on a life of its own. 

2.       What was your hardest scene to write in this book? 
The beginning, when we feel Grace’s grief.  Putting myself in her ‘shoes’, relaying what it must feel like to lose your love.
3.       Did you hide any secrets or Easter Eggs? No. J
4.       Since the publication, what would you say has improved in your writing? Story development; writing what I want to convey – not what others think I should write.
5.       Did you leave out anything in this book that you wished you hadn’t? Yes, looking back, I would have lengthened the get-to-know-you phase of Grace and Cole’s relationship; added more details.
6.       Do you believe a book cover plays an important role in the selling process? Yes! I want covers to truly reflect the work, because books are judged by the covers! They need to catch attention, and be readable.  
7.       Any advice you would like to give to your younger self? My younger, younger self – take more chances!  As for my younger writer-self (having only been published less than a year) I’m a work-in-progress. I’ll continue to work on being a well-rounded author, putting out stories I can be proud of!

  Excerpt:
The calmness of the beach was like a balm on Grace’s soul, the beautifully clear ocean water hypnotic and inviting. She walked its edge, allowing the small surf to roll over her feet and ankles, and earning her a glimpse of shells and starfish along the way. When she had walked so far as to round the small peninsula and catch sight of another resort, she decided to turn around and make her way back.The sound of laughter had her turning again. She saw a little girl in a pink bathing suit running her way, long, blonde hair billowing behind her. As well as a shirtless man who was giving chase. Grace watched as the man would get close enough to playfully swipe the girl’s behind, then feign fatigue before catching up to her again. Her antics of darting left and right, and the giggling brought a smile to Grace’s face. Before she realized she had remained rooted to her spot, watching the delightful scene, the little girl was suddenly in front of Grace, running around her like they were old friends.She smiled down upon the girl who decided to clutch Grace’s legs and hide behind her.“Don’t let him find me,” she whispered before giggling.When Grace looked up, a strikingly handsome man stood before her. He wore only swim trunks that showed off his tanned and muscular body. His gaze was uncertain as it roamed her face, almost as if he’d been stunned. He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then finally spoke. “You, uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen a little girl running around here? She’s about this high,” he continued, holding his hand close to his waist, “with long, blonde hair.”Grace’s gaze was drawn to his defined abs and those delicious dips running toward his hips that his low-slung shorts revealed. She suddenly blushed when she realized where her concentration had been. As she peered back to his face, his eyes held such intrigue that something compelled her to play along.“I’m sorry, but no little girls around here. Just me.” She smiled. And was rewarded with a knee-weakening smile in return. The man before her seemed about her age, with short, black hair that was graying at the temples and deep-blue eyes that held both maturity and mischief. Mostly black hair dusted his chest and limbs with perfection. He was absolutely swoon-worthy.“Well, that’s a shame.” A playful pout formed on his lips. Full lips that would no doubt make a woman sigh when they landed on hers. “Because I promised that little girl a piggy-back ride to the lodge for ice cream. I guess if she’s not here I’ll have to eat ice cream all by myself.”As he began to turn away, the little girl squealed, deciding ice cream was a far better option than playing hide-and-seek. She ran around Grace and squealed, “Grandpa! I’m right here!”Grandpa?“Oh my goodness, there you are!”Grace couldn’t help but chuckle at the fun these two were having. The little girl flew at the man who scooped her up in his arms, swinging her onto his shoulders with ease. As they continued to laugh, the man’s gaze landed on Grace again.“I’m sorry. We seemed to have corralled you into our little game. I hope we aren’t keeping you from anything?” “Oh no, I was just out for a walk by myself. You’re a pretty good runner there, missy,” Grace said to the little girl.“I beat Grandpa every time!” She beamed, causing Grace to laugh.“I’m Cole,” the man said. “And this little speed demon is my granddaughter, Eliza.”“Nice to meet you both. I’m Grace.”“That’s a pretty name,” Eliza said. “Would you like to have ice cream with us?” She wiggled atop the shoulders of her grandpa as she mussed his hair. “I’m going to get vanilla with chocolate sprinkles. What’s your favorite?”Before Grace could answer, Cole spoke. “Eliza can get pretty excited about ice cream. We’ll, uh, we’ll let you continue with your walk. Sorry to have bothered you.”When he started to take a step back and turn, Grace spoke out. “It was no bother, really.” She looked from Cole to Eliza. “And I like Neapolitan.” Why she felt the need to continue to engage, she had no idea, but she didn’t want to be finished with the delightful little girl and her stunning grandpa.“Neapololitan,” Eliza tried to say.“Close,” Cole said. “It’s the vanilla-strawberry-chocolate together, remember?”“Yes! Like what we had for your birthday, Grandpa!”Cole chuckled. “That’s right.” He looked at Grace. “It’s my favorite, too.”

WHERE TO BUY:

Evernight: https://tinyurl.com/y9mlgh8qAmazon: https://tinyurl.com/yca6pkxeB&N: https://tinyurl.com/y89oentc Kobo: https://tinyurl.com/yanhzalkSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/765643

Welocme Writing Partners Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead!

Hello Catherine & Eleanor!  Thank you so much for visiting Written Butterfly with me today!  It’s such a pleasure to chat with you.  So tell me…
Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?
CC: I write fiction as one half of a partnership with Eleanor and each of us is responsible for their own characters, so the dynamics are naturally very organic and our novels and stories usually spring from some fairly innocuous bit of inspiration. Once we’ve talked that through, we’ve usually got the bones of a plot and the characters who will fill it. Then we lay our the plot as a series of short paragraphs (one per chapter), and dive in.
EH: Henry begins the novel as a very buttoned down tweedy sort of chap, the typical repressed, inwardly fuming English gent. He contrasts with George, who is far more outgoing and personable – he’s another English type, the cheeky rogue to Henry’s stuffy gent. 
Q) Is this book part of a series?  If so, can you tell us about it?
It’s part of the Captivating Captains series and the blurb definitely does the talking.
“Throughout the ages, the image of the stern, unyielding captain, resplendent in his immaculate uniform, has been a staple of fiction. He instills loyalty, devotion and sometimes fear in the hearts of his men, and they’ll follow him anywhere.
It’s time to meet a new generation of captains, who still make their men tremble, but for very different reasons. From the oh-so-proper ballrooms of the Regency to the hellish trenches of World War One, the flashing cutlasses of the Golden Age of pirates to the chilly bunkers of the Cold War, these captains will have you hungry to join their ranks.”
Q) Can you give a fun or interesting fact about your book?
CC: A horse in the house might not be common, but it definitely happens in my corner of Yorkshire.
EH: My nephew has a cameo role in the opening scene as an entrant in the Bonny Baby competition.
Q) What do you think is your strongest asset as a writer? …what is your weakest factor as a writer?
CC: I think my strongest is focus. I’m lucky enough to be able to write books as my day job, so I can’t afford the time to procrastinate. Luckily, I rarely want to. My weakest is self-discipline when it comes to switching off. After one too many days when I was still at my desk at 4am, I decided to put a stop to my all-night writing jags and actually get to bed at a decent hour!
EH: I fiddle with my writing a lot. I could spend far too long rearranging the same sentence over and over again so I have to force myself to stop. It’s a strength in that I’m careful with words I use, but it can be a weakness as all that fiddling about can slow down the creative flow. I learned a couple of years ago to just write and leave most of the tinkering about until after the first draft.  
Q) Do you have any habits that get you in the writing frame of mind?
CC: A cup of tea, some good music and my wee dog, Pippa, at my side. I also write in cafes a lot. Here in my corner of Yorkshire we’re super dog-friendly, so Pippa is welcome at all my favourite haunts.
EH: Before writing, I deliberately drift off into a daydream to get into the imaginary world of the story. It’s probably quite annoying for my boyfriend, as quite often I’ll find out he’s asked me a question and I haven’t heard him!
Q) Do you plan all your characters out before you start a story or do they develop as you write?
CC: I know them very well before I start, but they can still surprise me.
EH: In order to write together effectively, we need to plan in advance. We’re lucky that we have the same approach to that side of writing –I know some writers who plan everything to the nth degree with spreadsheets and Post-It notes, and others who are very free-wheeling, but we sit somewhere in the middle. We have a plan, but we give the story and characters room to grow too. We often write test scenes before we start a novel, to get to know the characters and how they interact.
Q) How much real life do you put into or influences your books?
CC: Quite a bit, I think. Our contemporary characters share our world so George is no stranger to Bake Off or Pet Shop Boys and his tour of duty in Afghanistan is obviously entirely taken from the headlines of the past few years. We’re both historians so accuracy is super important too, and both our historical and contemporary works are meticulously researched, which means our readers are hopefully sucked right into the world that our characters inhabit.
EH: My brother did two tours in Afghanistan, so my anxiety while he was away fed into how Hery had felt while George was over there. And my dad’s exploits in village cricket inspired some of the events in the novel, although in his case they had to deal with a peacock on the pitch, rather than a dog. I have tweed in my wardrobe, although not as much as Henry does. That all said, I can see Henry’s house, George’s cottage, the pub garden and Longley Parva’s village hall as clearly as if I’ve actually been there, and I definitely haven’t because it’s invented. So the imagination blends with elements of real life to create the world of the novel.
Q) What are your upcoming projects?
CC: We have a novella, A Late Summer Night’s Dream, due soon, and several short stories, as well as plenty more Captivating Captains. Personally, I’m looking forward to the release of my next non-fiction work, The Scandal of George III's Court, in October, as well as two appearances at the Jane Austen Festival in Bath this autumn.

EH: We’ve also got a cosy Christmas short story out in December, as well as something spooky for September. And later in the year, I’m giving talks on Victorian forensic science in the unusual settings of an historic cemetery and an auction house.

Blurb:


When an uptight countryside vet and a sexy TV star meet on the cricket pitch, they’re both knocked for six!
Henry Fitzwalter is a solid sort of chap. A respectable rural vet and no stranger to tweed, he is the lonely inhabitant of crumbling Longley Parva Manor.
Captain George Standish-Brookes is everyone’s favorite shirtless TV historian. Heroic, handsome and well-traveled, he is coming home to the village where he grew up.
Henry and George’s teenage friendship was shattered by the theft of a cup, the prize in a hard-fought, very British game of cricket. When they resolve their differences thanks to an abandoned foal, it’s only a matter of time before idyllic Longley Parva witnesses one of its wildest romances, between a most unlikely couple of fellows.
Yet with a golf-loving American billionaire and a money-hungry banker threatening this terribly traditional little corner of Sussex, there’s more than love at stake. A comedy of cricket, coupling and criminality, with a splash of scandal!

Excerpt:

What on earth are they feeding these babies?

Another ruddy-cheeked mother passed her enormous child to Henry. He balanced it on his hip, smiling politely as he jiggled it up and down.“What a lovely boy!”

Puppies, kittens, foals, lambs, calves and piglets were more Henry Fitzwalter’s style, the daily business of a countryside vet. He was at ease around them. But not human babies—they were strange and alien beasts indeed. The infant reached out its pudgy hand and tugged Henry on the nose, yanked Henry’s neatly trimmed sideburn then grabbed a length of his hair and pulled.

Henry winced. “Certainly a strong ’un!”“Daniel, you bad boy!” His mother at least had the grace to be contrite regarding her infant’s outrageous thuggery, and wrestled the unfeasibly large child from Longley Parva’s vet.

Nestled in the South Downs, Longley Parva had been the home of Henry’s family for generations. And today, on this sunny Sunday afternoon, Longley Parva was closed for a street party to raise funds for the roof of the village hall.

Daniel was swapped for another child, who came accompanied by the odor of milk. Henry bounced the baby and it cooed at him. It appeared to be a little girl, judging by how frilly its outfit was, and although it was almost entirely bald, it was wearing a sequined Alice band.A car tooted, an engine revved. A nearby shout of, “The road’s closed for the party—what’s the bloody matter with people?”

Women’s Institute stalwart Mrs. Fortescue tutted. “Mind your language in front of the babies!”Henry, ignoring the baby’s grip on his knitted tie, stared from his vantage point at the top of the village’s High Street toward the other end, where barriers and stalls were being shifted as a car approached.

A classic car in British racing green nosed its way toward him. He knew it, because it had been tootling around the village for Henry’s whole life and for decades before that too. Everyone in England knew it, because this was the soft-top Jaguar of Captain George Standish-Brookes. This was the soft-top Jaguar that had transported its driver and his popular histories straight into the nation’s hearts.Henry clenched his jaw. That bloody man.

Cries of “It’s Captain George!” filled the street, the Longley Parvans nudging one another and grinning, some even waving as the car wound its way along the crowded road. The final of the Bonny Baby Competition was forgotten.
George drove into the center of the village like the returning hero he was, classic Wayfarers hiding his eyes, the car horn blaring merrily and a crowd following as though the Red Sea had just parted.

George—Henry’s childhood friend through thick and thin, until the day the Longley Parva Cup disappeared. George—the television historian with the knowing wink and dazzling smile. George, who sailed through life without a care in the world, waving now at the locals as he drove toward the podium with one hand on the steering wheel.
The handsome bastard.
Of course the road closure didn’t apply to George, even though the vicar on his bicycle had been turned away and told to come back on foot. Rules never applied to Captain George Standish-Brookes. Not at school, not in his Bohemian home, and now, not at the village fête.
George made his own rules.
Unable to raise a hand in polite though grudging welcome without dropping the baby, Henry gave George a terse nod.
“Fitz!” George turned off the ignition and the car, somehow, came to rest at just the right angle for a classic car shoot. He pushed open the door and hopped out onto the green, a vision of easy, casual confidence in cricket sweater and chinos, his dark hair tousled just so, the sun glinting from the face of his watch.
Who still wears a watch these days, anyway?
Captain George did, because then he could wear a regimental watch strap too.
“What a welcome.” George laughed, pushing the Wayfarers up into his hair. He looked around at the bunting and sausage rolls, the orange squash and bonny babies. “Have I crashed a party?”
Henry clenched his jaw. “I suppose those sunglasses prevented you from being able to read the sign at the top of the road, Captain George? ‘Street party—strictly no entrance’. You nearly mowed down half the village, you fool!”
He had forgotten that he was standing in front of a microphone. After a blast of feedback, his sarcastic reprimand echoed down the bustling street.
“Shut up, vet’n’ry!” someone shouted from the crowd.
“Yeah, you shut up! It’s Captain George!” someone else chimed in. Within moments, the street was full of jeers aimed at Henry. Even the baby joined in, yanking Henry’s tie so hard he nearly headbutted the microphone. George stepped up, his hands held in front of him in a call for calm. Naturally, he knew how to use a microphone, there was no wail of aggressive feedback to deafen him.
“Hello, Longley Parvans!” A chorus of greeting went up. “Sorry for nearly mowing you down—blame my enthusiasm to see this marvelous village once more. Some things, I notice”—he cast a long, comical look at Henry—“never change!”
Henry glared at the car and glared at George. “No, they don’t, do they?”
The baby started to grizzle, its face turning tomato red. Henry bounced it more energetically on his hip, just as a hiccupping noise started up in its throat. He looked over his shoulder, wondering where its mother had got to. A reporter from the local paper had slipped in between the locals and had clambered onto the podium. “Give us a smile, Captain George! Can we get a few words for The Bugle?”
“I’ve just been around the world for my Secret History of Magellan, which you can watch this Christmas on the Beeb!” He winked, a twinkle in his eye that made at least one of the girls from the riding school fan her face. “And I still haven’t found anywhere as beautiful as good old Longley Parva!”
Applause rippled through the crowd, along with enthusiastic nods. And—for heaven’s sake, was it really necessary?—a cheer began.
“Hip-hip-hooray! Hip-hip-hooray! Hip-hip-hooray for Captain George!”
Mrs. Fortescue’s shoes banged loudly across the podium as she approached their returning hero. “Captain, could I possibly ask you to assist with the Bonny Baby Competition?”
“The divine Mrs. F.!” George kissed her on both cheeks. “It would be a pleasure!”
Henry knew better than to cross Mrs. Fortescue. She took the frilly child from his arms and deposited it in George’s embrace. Laughter echoed through the crowd, and the child’s mother now appeared, beaming up at George. Henry could do nothing more than stand there as George bounced the baby more and more, the hiccupping noise now a rumble.
The baby opened its little mouth and ejected a vast stream of curdled milk.
All over the shoulder of Henry’s tweed jacket.
“Brilliant!” The photographer tipped his head back, laughing. “What a great photo!”
“You can’t print that!” Henry stared in horror from the mess on his shoulder into the hungry lens of the camera. He dug in his pocket to retrieve a handkerchief and began to mop at the sour-smelling deposit. If it wasn’t enough that Longley Parva’s animal population voided their bodily fluids over him on a near-daily basis, now the human residents had joined in as well.
“You’re a poppet, aren’t you?” George bounced the now empty baby, who gurgled happily at him. Then the mother, who was even more thrilled by the celebrity in their midst, slipped her arm through George’s and grinned for the photographer.
“Would you mind just sort of utching up a bit?” The photographer gestured Henry to step to his right. “I need you out of frame, mate!”
Henry closed his lips in a tight line and nodded. “Of course. The local vet isn’t as exciting as a bona fide TV historian, after all.”
“And war hero,” the photographer reminded him saucily.
Henry manfully resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Still dabbing at his jacket, he walked past Mrs. Fortescue, only delivering a tight smile of acknowledgment, and hopped down from the podium. Henry was supposed to be judging the jam-making competition in fifteen minutes, but he wondered if he would be ousted from that gig too.
At least jam couldn’t vomit on your shoulder, though, there was that.
“God,” the stable girl told her equally flushed friend as Henry passed, “he’s even more gorgeous in the flesh than on the telly!”
Then she glanced at the sick-stained vet and touched her hair self-consciously. With a grimace, she murmured, “You missed some puke, Mr. Fitzwalter.”
Henry indicated over his shoulder with a jab of his thumb. “Will you tell Miss Watson on the jam stall that I’m going home? I can’t judge jam like this.” Once more, he pressed his lips into a thin, disapproving line. “But I’m certain that our resident celebrity will relish doing the honors.”
Somewhat proud of his pun, Henry went on his way. Longley Parva Manor was but a short walk from the main road and Henry would go home, sit in the bath with a whiskey and hope George left again soon.
“Fitz!” George’s voice again, full of laughter and carefree bonhomie, smooth and easy as hot chocolate, as one of his adoring Sunday newspaper critics once said. “I say, Fitz!”
Henry skidded to a halt on the gravel at the bottom of his driveway and turned to watch George approach. Behind him trailed a long line of smiling faces, the ladies who adored him and children who wanted to be him and men who wanted to buy him a pint. George the handsome, tan Pied Piper leading his faithful.
“What do you, of all people, want with me?”
“Mrs. F. tells me you’re on jam duty.” He slapped his hand down against Henry’s clean shoulder. “When I was stung by a ray, did I let it put me off finishing my secret shipwrecks filming? No. When I broke my wrist wielding a war hammer, did I give up my location work for Secrets of the Vikings? I did not! Come on, Fitz, are you going to let a bit of baby sick defeat you?”
“Defeat me? I smell of vomit, Captain bloody George. I can’t taste the jam with the tang of baby sick in my nostrils!”
“It’s a jacket, Fitz.” George laughed, a long, loud bray. “Take it off, man!”
Buy links:


Amazon: mybook.to/captaincricketer 
Publisher: https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/the-captain-and-the-cricketer
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/the-captain-and-the-cricketer
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-captain-and-the-cricketer-catherine-curzon/1128869770?ean=9781786516718




Authors info:


Catherine Curzon
Catherine Curzon is an author and historian.
She has written extensively for publications including HistoryExtra.com, the official website of BBC History Magazine, All About History, and Jane Austen’s Regency World. Catherine has spoken at venues and events including the Jane Austen Festival, the National Maritime Museum, Kenwood House, and the Royal Pavilion, Brighton.
Catherine holds a Master’s degree in Film and when not dodging the furies of the guillotine can often be found cheering for the mighty Huddersfield Town. She lives in Yorkshire atop a ludicrously steep hill with a rakish colonial gentleman, a long-suffering cat and a lively dog. Visit her at www.madamegilflurt.com.
Eleanor Harkstead
Eleanor Harkstead likes to dash about in nineteenth-century costume, in bonnet or cravat as the mood takes her. She knows rather a lot about poisons, and can occasionally be found wandering old graveyards. Eleanor is very fond of chocolate, wine, tweed waistcoats and nice pens. Her large collection of vintage hats would rival Hedda Hopper’s.

Originally from the south-east of England, Eleanor now lives somewhere in the Midlands with a large ginger cat who resembles a Viking.www.eleanorharkstead.co.uk

Blast from the Past.... Spotlight on Paper Kisses!

When Alannah’s husband tells her she’s boring and he doesn’t want to be married to her anymore she spirals into a world of hurt and confusion.  She decides to go back to her hometown in Missourito figure out where she lost the confident girl she used to be.  
Speeding into town, she’s pulled over by her old best friend, Skylar Randall, now the town sheriff.  He’s still mad at her for leaving twelve years ago without a word of good-bye.  But suddenly Sky isn’t just her high school friend anymore, he’s morphed into a man who goes after what he wants, and he’s just declared he wants her.
But Sky’s private world is one full of bondage and in trying to silence the doubts in her head, he will tie her up as long as it takes for her realize that what she really left behind was faith, hope and whole lot of kisses.*Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex


These were the inspiration pictures for my characters:



Excerpt


“Now,” he said. “For the rest of the night, the only communication I want from you is when I ask you a direct question about these bonds.  Do you understand?”
“What if I have to pee?  Or if I don’t like what you’re doing?  Or-”He slapped her on her ass cheek and she jumped, yelping in surprise.  “I told you, I only want you to answer direct questions.  Do you understand, Alannah?”
“Um, yes.”“Good.  Now hold out your hands.”   With her stomach doing flip flops and her heart pounding, she held out her arms.  Something looped around one wrist and she felt it being buckled.  Then the same thing happened on the other wrist and when she tested them, she realized a very short chain linked the cuffs together.  She flexed her wrists and realized either soft cotton or linen wrapped around her skin, so at least she wouldn’t worry about chaffing. Sky slipped his arm around her and helped her forward and from her brief glimpse of the room, Alannah knew he was escorting her to his bed.  A second later, she felt the soft duvet brush against her knee.  Sky helped her onto the bed, settling her toward the head board, and then he raised her arms and hooked her bound wrists above her head.  She pulled at them, but whatever he had chained her to was unbreakable.            She felt disoriented and a little uneasy at not being able to see or having the movement of her arms.  She was open, totally exposed except for a bit of lace covering her sex.  She squirmed even more and tried to get to her knees in an effort to gain some leverage.            “Stop moving,” he ordered and she obeyed immediately.  “Tell me how you feel.”            “How I feel?” she mimicked sharply.  “How do you think I feel?  I’m uncomfortable. My wrists are bound, I can’t see.  Damn it, Sky-”            He rolled her over and slapped her ass cheek again.  Hard.  She gasped and wiggled her bottom, shocked to realize her pussy was beginning to get wet.  Being spanked turned her on?  What the hell?”            “That’s not what I asked,” he said calmly.  “Shut off what your mind is telling you.  How do you feel?”            “I feel…vulnerable,” she said.            “Good.  What else?”             When he asked the question, his hand caressed the burning spot where his hand had smacked, creating a blanket of pleasure that smoothed over the pain.              “I’m…turned on?”            She hadn’t meant to make it sound like a question but he took it as one and again lifted his hand to spank her.  Fire licked her skin and she buckled a little, but as soon as he began caressing the area she calmed down.  Holy fire crackers, she did like being spanked!            “I’m turned on,” she assured, although she was a bit breathless.              His fingers left her ass cheek and dipped between her legs, under the lace of the thong, to find the truth to her words.  Alannah knew moisture steadily leaked from her pussy and he pressed into her slit briefly, all too briefly in her opinion, to tease her.  And then he was gone.  She felt the bed dip as he settled her back onto the bed, her hot ass finding the cool duvet soothing.  Not being able to see what he was doing built the anticipation to much that she almost became super hyper sensitive to each and ever noise around her.              He moved around the room.  A drawer was opened. Something was placed on the nightstand.  And then his hands were once again on her, but this time he was sliding them up her leg and quickly, briefly, gave silent thanks that she’d shaved.  But as soon as the thought formed it fled because all of her focus rested on what Sky was doing to that leg.  He pulled it out straight and placed another cuff around her ankle.  A second cuff went around the other ankle and he flexed each foot to make sure the bonds didn’t cut off her circulation before something was hooked to each cuff.  When she went to move her leg, she realized a bar had been wedged between them and a second later, her legs were pulled and she heard a click.  Now her legs were spread wide and she was completely, utterly, helpless.            “How are you feeling?” he asked.            It was extremely difficult to express all the emotions hurtling through her but he wanted an answer so she tried.              “Helpless.  Confused.  Panicked.  I’m wondering if you’re going to hurt me.  If you’re some type of pervert.”            His chuckled at that as his finger tips trailed over her body, staring from her feet, up her leg, under her thing and through the curls guarding her sex, then up her belly and over her nipples.              “Some people have to be tied up to be completely free,” he told her.  “You use the word stop and I will.  All of this goes away.  But so does your chance at learning what you really need, Alannah.”

Where to Buy
https://www.evernightpublishing.com/paper-kisses-by-beth-d-carter
https://www.amazon.com/Paper-Kisses-Beth-D-Carter-ebook/dp/B00JX8NR4G/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1534714445&sr=8-1&keywords=paper+kisses+beth+d.+carter
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/433542