Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 439
October 14, 2013
Vivi Andrews: When Powers Collide
Thank you, Delilah, for having me around to visit today!
One of my favorite things about writing paranormal romance is the opportunity to write about powerful women – not just in the ass-kicking sense (though that’s fun too) but also in the has-her-shit-together, calm-in-the-face-of-any-crisis, ruler-of-her-personal-universe sense. The heroine of my newest release (Karma of Naughty Karma) is one such woman. In every book of the Karmic Consultants series, as all her consultants are finding love and saving the world (or, in one case, saving a wedding), she’s shown that she’s strong, she’s smart, she’s got mad psychic powers, and she’s used to being the boss. So who could possibly capture her heart?
From the day I started writing the KC para-rom-com series, I knew the man for Karma was going to have to be something special. I think a truly powerful woman needs an equally powerful man, someone she can’t walk all over. Someone who will challenge her and never be cowed by her authority. Someone who can truly be her partner.
But because it’s no fun if they just fall into one another’s arms, of course the first time they meet they wouldn’t be partners. He had to be her nemesis. And so Prometheus – the unscrupulous warlock with jaw-dropping powers of his own – was born. And boy did I ever have fun pitting these two against one another… and forcing them to work together.
What would Elizabeth Bennett be without Darcy to pit her wits against? In J.D. Robb’s In Death series, who can match up with Eve Dallas if not Roark? In Nalini Singh’s Psi-Changelings, Hawke could only be mated to someone as epically powerful as Siena. I gotta say I love a good power couple.
Do you have a favorite powerful pair?
Double crossing the devil is a dangerous business.
Karmic Consultants, Book 7
Nearly two decades ago, Prometheus sold his beating heart to a devil in exchange for epic power. That contract is about to expire—and so is he. There’s only one woman with the power to help him see his next birthday. And he’s willing to use every manipulation in his arsenal to pry that power from the ice queen’s grip.
Karma, who values order above all else, has had enough of the unscrupulous warlock’s pranks endangering her people. But when she confronts the wily trickster to demand a cease-fire, his terms throw her for a loop. The bastard wants her to save his life—and he wants her in his bed.
Clinging to her hard-won control is the only way Karma knows to keep her abilities from overwhelming her. If anyone can tempt her to embrace the chaos of her magic, it’s Prometheus.
One kiss brings her defenses crashing down. But can she trust Prometheus…or has she lost her own heart to a warlock with a hidden agenda?
Warning: This book contains scheming, manipulation, bargains-with-the-devil, and meddling consultants. All’s fair in love and magic.
MY WEBSITE: http://www.viviandrews.com
BIO: Vivi Andrews is the award-winning author of over a dozen paranormal romance novels and novellas. A nomad at heart, she lives in Alaska when she isn’t indulging her travel addiction. For more about Vivi and her books, please visit her website (www.viviandrews.com) or blog (Ramblings from the Road, www.viviandrews.blogspot.com).
BUY LINKS:
Amazon | B&N | Samhain:
Here’s a short excerpt of Karma and Prometheus going toe-to-toe. Thanks again for having me, Delilah!
EXCERPT:
“You ass.” She stalked into the heart of his shop, the rap of her heels sharp on the hardwood floor. “I was willing to overlook the medallions you’d sold all over town, causing all manner of magical havoc.”
“Overlook? If no one was causing supernatural problems, you wouldn’t have any to solve. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to your business. I should get a commission.”
She didn’t appear to hear him. Her smoky, sex-kitten voice rasped over his words, gaining volume. “I chose not to respond to the pranks around Samhain and Beltane, and I ignored what I suspect was a curse of some variety designed to prevent me from being able to keep a receptionist for longer than a week.”
“I lifted that curse weeks ago.” Immediately after he’d semi-accidentally summoned a demon to harass her. It seemed the least he could do.
She went on as if he hadn’t spoken, though her hands clenched, rewarding him for the comment. “I refused to sink to your level, decided not to engage, but this? Siccing a demon on my brother’s wedding. A demon.”
“You have an exorcist on staff.”
“You sent a demon to stop my brother’s wedding!” she shrieked in an admirable impression of a banshee.
“It was a minor demon. And it wasn’t tasked with stopping the wedding. Just disrupting it a little.”
“A little? You almost killed my wedding planner!”
“Are you always this concerned with things that almost happen? I almost rescue orphans from burning buildings on a regular basis. Then I remember I don’t particularly give a shit about orphans.”
“You want things that actually happened? He actually possessed the wedding planner’s car and crashed it. He stalked her for three weeks. He kidnapped her!”
“What’s a little kidnapping among friends?”
“We are not friends. You’re—” She broke off, reduced to sputtering her rage.
“Dashing? Magnetic? Unscrupulous?”
If she could have lit him on fire with her eyes, he would have been a smoldering pile of ash. “There are no words vile enough to describe you.”
“You realize all of this could have been avoided if you’d let me hire you in the first place.”
“My people don’t work for ethical black holes.”
“Ethics.” He flicked his fingers dismissively. “Rules we make for ourselves are easily changed, bent or broken. Survival of the fittest is the truest law. Unbreakable.”
“I’m not going to debate morality with you.”
“What are you going to do? Punish me?” He smiled wolfishly. “That could be fun. I have been a bad, bad boy.”
She glared at him, sparks all but shooting from her eyes, hands on hips, her anger radiating a fierce heat. She’d missed her calling as a dominatrix. Give that woman a whip.
October 13, 2013
Ally Broadfield: Musings on…the Weather?
Huge thanks to Delilah for hosting me today. I’m excited to be here!
I grew up in Michigan and Ohio, but I’ve been living in Texas for nearly a decade. We were warned about the weather, but at first Texas tried to deceive us. Two weeks after we moved in, we had a snowstorm on Valentine’s Day with five inches of snow. And that summer, it rained for almost the entire month of June. By the time July rolled around, Texas started to show its true colors, and we knew we were in trouble. I’ve been known to offer to trade my firstborn for a cloudy day during the summer. Needless to say, I still haven’t adjusted to the weather.
During mid-July this year, with afternoon highs well into the 100s, nighttime lows hovering in the 80s, no rain to speak of, and backyard swimming pools as warm as bath water, I was diligently working on edits to my forthcoming debut release. It’s a Regency historical set in London. So naturally, I started daydreaming about the weather there as I edited.
I visited London in June 2009. Average highs were in the mid-70s, and average lows in the 50s. I wore jeans! And sweaters! It was cloudy much of the time, and drizzled a bit. Never mind the sights – the trip was worth it just for the weather. But the sights were pretty fabulous, too.
Windsor Castle – check out those gorgeous clouds!
So you’re probably wondering if I added rain and below average temperatures to my story. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until November to find out.
Ally’s Bio:Ally Broadfield lives in Texas and is convinced her house is shrinking, possibly because she shares it with three kids, five dogs, two cats, a rabbit, and several reptiles. Oh, and her husband. She likes to curse in Russian and spends most of her spare time letting dogs in and out of the house and shuttling kids around. She writes historical romance and middle grade/young adult fantasy. Her first book, Just a Kiss, is coming from Entangled Publishing in November 2013.
Please stop by my website in November. I’ll be participating in a blog tour with giveaways in celebration of my debut release.
website: http://allybroadfield.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/allybroadfield
Twitter: www.twitter.com/abroadfield
October 12, 2013
Flashback: Raw Silk
Just quick commercial, and then I’ll get back to the regularly scheduled program… 
Right now, Shattered Souls is available for just $.99! So if you haven’t bought the story, now’s the time! The book’s chock full of gooey goodness—a sexy, kick ass hero you’ll find just as irresistible as the heroine does…a heroine with a really bad attitude and a past she can’t escape…magic and mayhem… Get the picture?
* * * * *
Flashback: Raw Silk
Post a comment today, and you’ll be entered to win a free download of this book!
“… This is one hot book. This is my first m/f/m, m/f/m/f, f/f, and m/m all in one book! And whoa nelly, this was a smoking hot story….” 5 Stars and Top Pick, Night Owl Reviews
“…Delilah Devlin has a scorching hot read on her hands with RAW SILK…Ms. Devlin gives her readers a sexually charged romance…Ms. Devlin turned up the heat with her intense love scenes and memorable characters. I loved Raw Silk, and I would recommend this story to every reader.” 5 Angels and Recommended Read, Fallen Angels Reviews
“…The always exhilarating author Delilah Devlin knows exactly what her readers want – daring, erotic and wicked delightful stories filled with amazing characters, exciting story lines, passion and an abundance of emotions that will keep them riveted to the pages and once again she delivers the goods with RAW SILK…” 4 Hearts, The Romance Studio
A wicked, no-strings one-night stand turns unexpectedly complicated when three lonely hearts collide…
Camille sacrificed romance for success long ago. Now that the lingerie company she and her best friend built is hugely successful, she has a few regrets. Wanting to let down her hair and explore the possibilities, she agrees to meet a man at a bar for drinks only to wind up needing help when she rebuffs his sexual overtures.
Jake and Daniel are two firefighters hitting the bar for a quick drink after a long shift when they see a classy beauty fending off an overzealous boyfriend. With a flex of biceps they chase him off then settle in to seduce the lovely woman whose eyes reflect a hunger they understand all too well. What starts as a simple, pleasurable one-night stand, quickly burns up the sheets.
While Jake knows he can’t let Camille crush their relationship because of age differences, Daniel still thinks he can walk—until he gets a whiff of Camille’s best friend Lacey. Suddenly three isn’t enough.
Reader Advisory: Burning up the sheets is putting it mildly! Inhibitions are out the door with scenes of m/f/m, m/f/m/f, f/f and m/m.
Nothing was better than a lip-gloss kiss—sweet, silky, made for savoring.
Jake Lassiter picked up his beer and drew on the froth, imagining another kind of cream slipping between his lips while he stared at the woman’s shiny pout. She didn’t seem to realize anyone stared as she slicked her lips with a clear lube, tucked a stray blonde curl behind her ear and closed the mirrored compact. Or maybe she did and the performance was just a tease.
“Dayum, bro. Gotta have me some of that,” Daniel Parker murmured.
Jake shot him a glare, just to check, and sure enough, his best buddy was staring at the same honey-haired beauty.
“I call dibs.” Danny scowled, humor gleaming in his dark brown eyes.
“Can’t call dibs. I saw her first. I watched her come in the door while you were paying for the drinks.”
“Oh yeah? What color is her hair?” Jake asked, leaning toward the bar to cut off Danny’s view.
“Who gives a damn? Did you see her ass?”
Jake snorted, annoyed they were talking like two never-been-laid teenagers, but that’s what usually happened after a long week when both of them were too worn out to rub a single brain cell between them. That either had been able to lift bleary eyes past their beers said a lot for the woman’s appeal. She shone like a beacon in the badly lit bar.
“Why not let the lady make her own choice?” Danny drawled.
“Like she’d come near either one of us,” he muttered, his gaze sweeping the expensive cut of her navy suit, the sleek fall of her chin-length hair and understated makeup. She wore “class” like he did a pair of well-washed jeans—comfortably.
Still, it had been her expression that had snagged his attention. Something soft and wistful shone in her large, dark eyes. She wished she was anywhere but here.
“Speak for yourself,” Danny said in his usual imperturbable fashion. “I showered at the station before I left. I mean it, man. Let’s ask her which of us she’d rather have.”
Jake shook his head, fighting a smile. Even when he was being an ass, his buddy’s rakish grin made him laugh. He prepared to shove away from the bar. “How ‘bout I just invite her over for a drink? She looks like she might like the company.”
Danny leaned past him and grimaced. “Hate to break it to you, but I don’t think she’ll go for it. She’s got a boyfriend sliding right in.”
Jake’s head swiveled her way, just in time to see a suit with a flashy tie bend to kiss her cheek then take the seat beside hers. “Tall and pasty-faced” sat and stretched his arm across the back of the woman’s chair.
A sudden flash of anger stiffened Jake’s shoulders. He had never seen the lady before five minutes ago but he felt as if he’d already staked a claim.
“He’s making damn sure the rest of us know she’s taken,” Danny muttered.
Jake sighed and angled his body toward his friend, ready to finish the beer and call it a night. “It’s just as well. I’m beat.”
Danny’s glance remained fixed on the table behind Jake then slowly narrowed. “Not so fast. I don’t think she’s that into pretty boy.”
Jake didn’t want to look, preferred to forget his impossible attraction, but he turned and watched the woman lean away from the arm draped behind her. Her eyebrows lowered and those bowed lips tightened in irritation.
“Boyfriend” moved closer, ignoring the not-so-subtle clues, and tucked his face into the corner of her neck to nibble.
She shrugged, trying to escape, and her voice raised just enough for Jake to hear the tone but not the words.
“Think she needs rescuing?” Jake asked softly.
“Think he’ll listen? Or are you ready for a fight?”
Hell yeah he was. Jake clapped his cowboy hat on his head and rose slowly, fisting his hands. “Watch my back.”
“Like I’m gonna let you be the white hat?”
“Bro, I’m wearin’ it.” Danny grinned. He lifted his beer and emptied it then slammed it on the table and followed.
Jake sauntered toward the pizza-pie-shaped table and halted in front of the couple, hooking his hands on his hips. The motion stretched his firehouse t-shirt across a chest he knew commanded more than a few stares.
The woman saw him first, her brown eyes widening as they trailed up his body to his face.
“Boyfriend”, however, hadn’t a clue how close he was to dusting the floor with his expensive suit.
Danny cleared his throat.
Jake lifted his chin and captured the woman’s gaze. “Baby, I thought I told you I don’t like it when you tease me.”
Boyfriend muttered and jerked back his head, taking in Jake and Danny in a single annoyed glance. “Beat it.”
Jake ignored him, turning his attention to the woman. “What do you say, sweetheart?”
Her lips quirked. “Honey, Malcolm, here, doesn’t take no for an answer.”
A scrape sounded beside him and Danny set a chair backward at the tiny table and straddled it.
Malcolm gave him a killing glare, but Danny ignored him, reaching for the bowl of peanuts at the center of the table and grabbing a fistful, which he held above his face and dropped into his open mouth in a steady stream.
“Guess the table’s gonna get crowded,” Jake murmured. “Name’s Jake, since you asked,” he said thrusting his hand in front of Malcolm’s face.
Malcolm’s narrowed glance looked at Jake’s hand, and then he angled his body toward the woman.
“How about we blow this place?” he said, a trace of a pansy-assed British accent in his voice.
“I don’t think so,” she said evenly. “I only agreed to meet you because you said you wanted to talk about the proposal. I chose this place to kill two birds.” Her gaze rose to Jake’s again.
He nodded imperceptibly, and smiled at Malcolm. “We have a date.”
“The two of you have a date with her?” he said, his tone disbelieving.
Danny coughed and held up his hand. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I think you get the drift, buddy. The lady’s ours.”
Malcolm’s mouth curled in disgust. “I knew you were a firecracker, but I had no idea. It’s a little crowded for me, love.” He straightened his tie, glanced around the darkly lit bar and stood, not looking back once while he sauntered toward a lone woman seated at the bar.
“Thanks, I think,” the woman said, wrinkling her nose. “Now my reputation’s going to be in shreds. Not that that’s a bad thing,” she muttered under her breath. “And I can’t say I’m not glad to get him off me.”
Jake liked her easy humor, liked her husky, whiskey-laced voice even better. “Do you really think anyone will believe a word from that slimeball?” Jake said, settling into Malcolm’s vacated seat.
“Guess not,” she said, eyeing him then Danny. She took a deep breath. “Can I buy you both a drink since you rescued me? I can’t leave just yet. We’ll have to make this look good.”
“We’d be much obliged,” Danny said, grinning. “You’ve already met Jake, and I’m Danny.”
“Camille.” She cleared her throat and signaled to the waitress.
Jake and Danny shared a charged glance, and Jake knew exactly what was poking around Danny’s mind. The lady hadn’t looked all that shocked when “boyfriend” concluded she was dating the two of them. But if that was what enticed her to spend a little time with them, he’d bite back his natural urge to corral her all for himself. Up close, the woman was even more attractive, if a little older than he’d originally thought, with pale, creamy skin and a small dent on the underside of her jaw. He liked the stubborn tilt and the little groove underneath her round jaw and imagined rubbing his tongue and anything else she’d like along the sexy notch.
“Malcolm’s still staring,” she murmured, turning her head and pointing with her finger hidden in her hair.
From the bar, Malcolm’s malevolent gaze was trained on the trio.
“Maybe he doesn’t believe you’re really with us. Why don’t we remove his doubts?” Danny said, his dark brown eyebrows giving a devilish waggle.
Her lush lips pursed as she considered, and Jake felt his body tighten. “What do you have in mind?” she said, her voice sliding softer.
“Wanna dance with us?” Danny said.
Her brows rose. “Both of you?” Something wicked sparkled in her eyes.
Jake couldn’t resist that hint of interest. He met Danny’s glance, wondering how far his friend really wanted to take this. From Danny’s tightening expression, he surmised he was willing to let the lady set the course. His fatigue melted away as a slow aching throb pulsed between his legs. His body was way ahead of his mind, it appeared. He slowly slid his arm along the back of her chair, not touching her shoulders but still crowding her a bit.
Her gaze met his and locked. Her pupils dilated, her breath hitched, but she leaned back, easing into his embrace.
Jake liked the way her body relaxed against him and the waft of spicy perfume that teased his nose. “Probably wouldn’t call it dancin’,” he said, keeping his voice even although he felt a predatory growl rising inside him. “There won’t be much room for you to move.”
“Do you really think that’s what it will take for him to get the message?” she asked doubtfully. But while her response sounded reluctant, he detected a flare of heat entering her warm, cognac-colored eyes.
“I guarantee he won’t be able to miss it.” Neither would anyone else watching them inside the bar. “Come on. I promise we won’t do anything you won’t like.” He unwound his body from the chair and held out his hand.
Camille shook her head, her expression turning rueful, but she let Jake grasp her hand and tug her up. Danny fell in on her other side as they walked toward the small parquet square that passed for a dance floor.
The music was loud and bluesy, the rumbling bass slower than a lazy heartbeat.
Jake turned her into his arms and waited for her to raise her hands and settle them against his chest. Then he gripped her hips and pulled her closer.
Her body stiffened and her hands dropped to shove his upward, but he resisted, his fingers biting into her soft flesh. He bent to whisper in her ear, “I’ll stop if you really want me to.”
She tilted back her head. A flash of panic widened her eyes, but she held his gaze for a long moment then her body slowly relaxed. She took a deep breath and tucked her face into the corner of his shoulder. A soft moan warmed his neck.
Above her head, he gave Danny a subtle nod.
Danny moved in behind her, dropped his hands to the sides of her thighs and scooped her bottom against his groin.
The three of them barely breathed for a long, charged moment until Jake slowly set the depth and rhythm of their movements, sliding his thigh between hers, and letting Danny crowd her back closer to his chest.
“I can’t catch my breath,” she gasped when Jake rubbed his thigh between hers. He pulled back his head.
“That a problem, sweetheart?” His gaze caught hers and satisfaction filled him. He read the feminine fear and startled arousal in her widening eyes and softening lips.
“Guess not,” she whispered. Her fingers clutched the tops of his shoulders and she nestled her cheek against him.
They swayed together, heat building between their bodies. Her belly trembled, and he felt it vibrate against his cock.
“You okay with this?” Danny whispered, his hands beginning to smooth up and down her thighs, drawing up her skirt to allow Jake’s thigh to press higher.
“It’s just a dance,” she bit out, her thighs clamping harder around Jake’s.
“Sure it is,” Danny murmured, and bent to nuzzle her neck.
The music changed to something faster, with a raw, raucous beat.
Camille took a deep breath and lifted her head. Her lips quirked into a strained smile, waiting for them to move away, but Danny lifted an eyebrow to Jake who gave him another nod.
Danny pulled back and turned her toward his body, settling her just as close as Jake had held her, sliding his thigh intimately between hers.
Jake cupped the tops of her hips and bent until his lips were just beside her ear. “Malcolm’s watching now.”
“Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe this is all about him?” she said tightly.
“We never thought that. Just helpin’ you kill those two birds.”
“Which birds are you referring to?” she asked, shivering delicately when his lips grazed her neck. “I’m not sure they’re the same species I had in mind.”
“Getting rid of boyfriend…and getting your groove on, sweetheart.”
“Not exactly what I had in mind.” But she groaned deeply and another shudder trembled up her spine.
“Do you have any objections?”
A short, shattered laugh jerked her between them. “What are you guys? You’re both…huge.”
“Why thank you, ma’am,” Danny said, his voice thick and husky.
She groaned. “I’m talking about your bodies.”
“So were we.”
“Right.”
“Firemen,” Jake broke in, cupping her hips and massaging them. “We’re both firemen.”
“Firemen…figures.”
Jake leaned back, bending his knees and taking her with him so that her bottom molded against groin. His hips rubbed and ground, rocking her with the beat. Her head fell against his shoulder and she gave a little shimmy, side to side, that nearly killed his composure. “Got something against firemen?”
“Of course not,” she said over her shoulder. “But it explains…the muscle.”
Danny bent toward her, nipping at her ear. “We’re big; doesn’t mean we don’t know how to be gentle.”
“When it’s needed,” Jake said, finally unleashing the growl and enjoying the way she shivered in response.
“Jesus,” she groaned. “And I thought this was going to be a tedious evening.”
October 11, 2013
Anne Lange: The Time to Give Thanks
Thank you, Delilah, for allowing me to stop in and visit with you and your readers again. The last time I was here, my post was about the Canadian long weekend in May, our Victoria Day holiday, which is when my current release Worth the Risk takes place. Due to the timing of this visit, I thought I’d talk about another holiday—this weekend is our Thanksgiving. So, yes, I’m spending the weekend cooking. Hmm, not unlike most weekends, but this one’s special – it’s turkey time!
Just like in the U.S., Canadians give thanks for a good harvest and any other good fortunes over the past year, and we take time to stuff ourselves with turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberries and pumpkin pie, well, I actually prefer apple. 
However, our Thanksgiving holiday is celebrated earlier, on the second Monday of October.
Traditionally, this is a national public holiday for most of us, and although we do tend to get together with family on the Thanksgiving weekend, the holiday itself is not as big a celebration in Canada as it is in the U.S. While the actual Thanksgiving holiday is on a Monday, many will actually celebrate it on the Sunday.
Last time I was here, I talked about how we generally used the May long weekend as our springboard into summer—we open everything up—our pools, our camps and summer cottages. Well, we use this one to close them all up. Summer is officially over, all done. It’s time to pack it up, sweep it away, and pull out the winter wear. Yuck. Coats and boots we’ve been hiding in the basement. *shiver* We look longingly at our shorts, swimsuits and sandals. If we’re lucky though, it’s a beautiful warm fall day, the leaves have already turned to bright reds, oranges and yellows, and they’re gently falling from the trees. Just in time for the kids and hubby to rake them up! Pumpkins, squash and Indian corn are in abundance and adorn dining room tables, front entrances, and create beautiful crisp masterpieces that (hopefully) last through Halloween.
A few interesting facts:
Canadian’s don’t have a Black Monday. Our biggest shopping day is Boxing Day
Similar to the U.S., Canadians have parades and watch football on the holiday Monday
Kitchener Waterloo hosts Oktoberfest – if you’re looking for German music, beer and Schnapps, Kitchener is the place to be (if you can’t actually be in Germany of course
)Quebec Francophones don’t consider it an important holiday – it’s simply a day off!
The Canadian Thanksgiving coincides with the U.S. observance of Columbus Day
Now, remember when I said we took the time to express our thanks? Every day, I’m thankful for my family and friends, both close and extended, my health, and my job. But this year, I saw my dream of becoming published come to fruition. And before the end of the year, I should see my second book hit the e-market. For that, I’m especially thankful too everyone involved in making that happen.
In my upcoming release, Friends with Benefits, Tyler is most thankful for the woman he shares his life with. When he finds out that his best friend is moving to town, Tyler decides this may be the opportune time to surprise his wife, the woman he loves more than life itself, by fulfilling some of her fantasies, and Connor is the one man he trusts to help him do just that.
You trust your friend.
You love your wife.
Is your relationship with both of them strong enough
to put it all to the ultimate test?
There’s only one way to find out…
All images are for promotional purposes only and do not reflect the actual cover
or character images. Author as appropriate rights for the use of all images.
I want to wish all my American friends a happy Columbus Day and all my Canadian family and friends a happy Thanksgiving! Tell me…what are you thankful for?
To purchase Worth the Risk:
Amazon | Barnes and Noble | All Romance Ebooks | Kobo | Bookstrand
To connect with Anne:
Web Page/Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest
October 10, 2013
A Cowboy and a Guitar — Randi Alexander has a Sexy Excerpt and a Giveaway
Thanks for hosting me today, Delilah! I’m excited to chat with your wonderful readers.
Country Western singers play a huge role in my fantasy life. A few years ago, I attended a concert with my girlfriends. We had too much fun planning naughty stolen moments with the opening act.
I just imagined what it would be like to get invited backstage by him, into his dressing room, accept a glass of whiskey from him, and sip it while watching him strip off his shirt. “Sure, I’ll wait while you take a shower,” I say, and he grins at me, takes the glass from my hand, and shakes his head. “You’re commin’ in with me, sugar.”
Hmm, should I risk messing up my makeup…oh heck, who am I kidding? I’m naked and in the shower before he can get his boots off!
Our first kiss is whiskey flavored, hot and slow. He likes to take his time. But he is intense, knows exactly what he wants and (woo-hoo!) exactly what I need. Do we ever see each other again? Of course we do! This is a romantic fantasy. Somehow, he tracks me down and we start a crazy-wild relationship that lasts happily ever after.
Fantasies are wonderful, aren’t they? Who’s the country star you daydream about? Are you sneaking backstage with him? Or do you have a different fantasy planned for him? Leave a comment for a chance to win!
Book 1 of the Hot Country Series: Country music superstar/actor Chase Tanner has yet to be denied anything–and he’s never wanted anything or anyone more than gorgeous screenplay writer Reno Linden. So when the film they are working on is finally finished, Chase decides to turn up the volume on seducing Reno.
Reno Linden lived a quiet, rural life until she was thrust into the Hollywood scene when her book was adapted to film. Chase Tanner is larger than life, sinfully sexy and hell-bent on getting her into bed. Skittish after a failed wedding engagement, Reno risks the plunge into Chase’s arms, and is surprised that her good girl self can keep up with bad boy Chase.
Though Chase returns to his cowboy roots often, and Reno cherishes the time spent with him on his ranch, the two find their careers pulling them in different directions. Will their attraction survive the glitz and stress of fame?
Excerpt from Chase and Seduction – Book 1 of the Hot Country Series:
Reno looked at Chase for a minute, losing herself in the dark passion in his eyes. Fisting her hand in his silky hair, she pulled him down to her and kissed him. Her tongue plunged in, twisting with his.
He took over, his lips slanting on hers, his breath hot and sweet as he explored every crevice of her mouth, teasing and caressing. His arms wrapped tightly, and he spread his feet apart so his hips could grind back and forth across her mound.
Her mind numbed to everything but the throbbing of her slit, the trickle of cream dripping from her opening onto her swollen lips, wetting her panties. She pulled his head back, still gripping his hair, and took huge breaths. “I’m drowning, Chase. Don’t let me go.”
“Reno.” His voice caught. “Never.” He walked her backward three steps and flattened her against the hard wall. His eyes bore into hers, his pupils dilated, making them look black, sensual, intense. He ran a hand up under her shirt, up to her breast. Her nipple grew rock hard as he teased it with his thumb, circling then squeezing it.
The pleasure ached, shivered down her belly, down low between her legs, making her cry out with the urgency of her need. He had to take her. Now. She couldn’t wait.
Chase tugged up her bra and fit her breast into his hand. “Oh baby, this is so fucking much better than I imagined.”
She stared at him, his face so close it seemed like a dream. Her voice seemed to come from far away. “Did you, Chase? Did you think about this? About making love to me?” She wanted to cry, for some insane reason—cry and hold on to him forever.
He gyrated his hips against her, hitting her clit through her clothes. “Yeah, I thought about this. Every time we talked, every time I saw you across a room.” He took her nipple between his finger and thumb again and caressed it. “And a hundred times a day when I could only see you in my mind.”
The ecstasy streaking from her breast to her pussy was outrageous. Sweet, heavenly contractions began, and she tipped up her hips to better feel his cock against her clit. The increased pressure flooded her pussy with heat as her climax neared.
“Reno.” He captured her mouth with his, demanding and driving, his need becoming frantic. He moved his hand from her breast to the waistband of her shorts and slid his fingers in, catching her lacy underwear with it.
Wanting to prolong her ecstasy, she pulled away from his kiss and caught her breath while she unbuttoned his shirt and yanked it open. Seeing his muscular pecs and abs, she lost all control and ran her hands over his hot, satiny skin, making circles with her fingers in the auburn hair lightly covering his chest. She leaned forward and bit him on the collarbone.
He cried out. “Oh yeah, baby, I like a little pain.”
She kissed the spot she’d just bitten. “And a little pleasure?” She’d never been so bold with a man. All her inhibitions had packed up and left.
He yanked her shorts and underwear down to the floor then stood and cupped her pussy with his big hand. “A lot of pleasure.”
**********
Leave a comment sharing the name of your fantasy ‘cowboy with a guitar’ for a chance to win an e-copy of Cowboy 6 Pack plus a box of swag.
Thank you!
Randi
“Rode Hard and Put Up Satisfied”
RandiAlexander.com
-Chase and Seduction is Book 1 of the Hot Country Series, and is available digitally at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, All Romance Ebooks, and in paperback at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Createspace
October 9, 2013
Dena Garson: Why Tullamore Castle…
A big thank you to Delilah for letting me play in her sandbox for a bit.
October has to be my favorite month of the year for a number of reasons. It’s my birthday month. Fall weather has usually rolled in. Boots and sweaters can be pulled out of the back of the closet. And I get to decorate for the spooky-ooky season, Halloween.
Even before I had children, I loved putting up cobwebs, flickering candles and tombstones. Now they help me drag stuff out of the attic. We end up with stuff all over the living room, foyer and front yard. Despite having boxes of stuff, we still add to it every year.
And costumes? I’ve lost count of how many we have. But like the decorations, almost every year I think of a new one to put together. This year I’m thinking Firefly (the show, not the insect).
My love of the odd, unusual and paranormal is probably why I was so drawn to Tullamore Castle, the setting for the Emerald Isle Fantasies series.
Tullamore is an enchanted castle-turned hotel, set in Ireland that is home to ghosts, witches, werewolves, vampires, selkies and other creatures that go bump in the night. While all of those paranormal beings might seem frightening to some, erotic delights can be found around almost every corner.
My book, Ghostly Persuasion, is the fourth book in this multi-author series.
When American-born Katie Ward takes her mother’s ashes home to Ireland, she finds hunky but spell-bound Seamus MacDonhnaill loitering in her suite at Tullamore Castle. Seamus is surprised Katie can see and hear him because he was turned into a spirit three hundred years earlier.
Seamus acts as her personal tour guide around the castle and estate. Not only does he show her the historical sights but Seamus introduces her to voyeurism and a variety of other cardinal delights. As frustrating as it is for them to not be able to touch each other, they push the limits as far possible.
Katie is determined to help Seamus break the spell cast on him by the wife of one of the previous lords. A woman he refused to take as a lover. Seamus only knows the spell will not be broken until he finds and claims his one true love. With help from a few castle ghosts and the local witch, Katie’s cousin, they break the spell.
Katie and Seamus fulfill her mother’s last request by spreading her ashes along the shoreline then begin their life together.
Get it now:
Ellora’s Cave / Amazon / Barnes & Noble
Stop by my website later this month. I’ll be participating in a blog hop and giving away prizes.
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
October 8, 2013
Tell me a story…
You want to know where my story ideas come from? Everywhere! I’ll show you what I mean…
I took this photo when my family went on a trip to northern Arkansas this last summer. When we travel, we tend to stop wherever we see interesting signs along the side of the road. “Quigley’s Castle”—had to see what that was all about—think a house built of concrete with bits of shell and crystal stuck into the bricks. Very strange and wonderful. If there’d been a “Biggest Ball of Twine” sign, we’d have been there, too. After all, what’s a family trip if you don’t enjoy the journey as much as the destination?
We stopped at a country store that had half a dozen horses lined up and a sign that read, ”Horse rides–$6.”
Now, I look at this picture of the 9-year-old who was lead around the grassy yard in front of the store again and again, and I think… hmmm… a little town’s 4th of July celebration… cowboys giving kids rides on horses… a single mom watching her little girl ride a horse… a cowboy who sees the little girl’s joy… Where might that lead?
Now, it’s your turn…
October 7, 2013
Elle James: The Many Hats I Wear
As I’m writing this blog, I’m listening to my 3-year-old grandson screaming his head off, in a temper for the hundredth time this week. That’s right, my daughter and two grandsons are living with me for a short time until they can get moved into their own house. I love my grandsons and I love that I get to know them better since they have lived so far away from me (Guam) for so long. It’s been a tough transition for us all to get used to each other and I have to remind myself, he will grow out of the “terribles”. Count ten and insert earplugs.
Not only am I a grandmother, I’m a mother to three children, now grown. Well, mostly. The twenty-one-year-old is still in college and very dependent on us when she needs money and very independent when she has a pocket full of cash. I try to be there for my grown children when they need a shoulder to cry or lean on, or want someone to vent to.
We also own a business with 16 employees. I’m the president and I try to go to the office at least once a week to run the status meeting. That once a week becomes even more quite often. The business is expanding and I’m in charge of placing ads, interviewing and hiring the new employees.
Then I’m the writer. Sometimes I feel like that role takes the back seat to everything else. And it really shouldn’t. Because my schedule is flexible, writing gets pushed to the back burner all too often and I find myself writing in crunch mode more than I should. Not only that, but I write under two pen names. And in this digital age, I have to keep enough content to keep my readers happy for both pen names.
I love my jobs, all of them! And I love being a writer and creating exciting stories that I can get engrossed in. It’s my escape sometimes from a very disjointed life. It’s my grounding place where I can get back to the fantasies that take me to far off places where I get to meet or be other people if only for a short time. I started out as a reader and I still am, because I like to take those trips into other people’s lives. It helps me tune out the screaming, or shut off the worrywart mamma in me, or forget for a moment that I have a schedule to pull together for the office.
Come…escape with me!
And I hope you enjoy the following blurb and excerpt from:
COWBOY RESURRECTED
Covert Cowboys Book #4
by Elle James aka Myla Jackson
Amazon | Nook
An expectant mother’s protection is a cowboy’s promise in Elle James’s Covert Cowboys, Inc. miniseries
Thorn Drennan stares death in the face when he’s nearly shot by a ranch trespasser. But this is no ordinary trespasser. Pregnant and running for her life, Sophia Carranza has crossed the Mexican border, leaving a trail of ruthless enemies behind.
Sophia’s protection is Thorn’s first assignment as an undercover agent and he senses trouble. Inexplicably drawn to Sophia’s beauty and fighting spirit, Thorn fears his growing desire for Sophia could jeopardize the mission. And when Sophia’s captors finally catch up to them, will Thorn trade his own life for another?
Standing to the side of the door, Thorn balanced his rifle against his hip, grabbed the doorknob, shoved open the door and darted out of range.
An explosion erupted from inside the cabin, and wood splintered from the door frame, bouncing off Thorn’s face. He ducked low, rolled through the doorway and came up in a crouch, aiming his rifle in the direction from which the last bullet had come.
“Vaya, o disparo!” Another shot blasted a hole in the wall near Thorn’s shoulder.
He threw himself forward in a summersault, coming up on his haunches. The rifle lay across the cot, pointed at the side of the shooter’s head.
“Por favor, no disparar!” a shaky female voice called out. “Don’t shoot!” Slim hands rose above the other side of the cot.
“¿Hablas Inglés?” Thorn asked.
“Sí. Yes. I speak English. Please, don’t shoot.”
“Place your weapon on the floor and push it toward the door.”
The thunk of metal hitting wood was followed by the rasp of it sliding across the floor.
Thorn hooked the gun with a foot and slid it toward himself. “Now you. Stand and walk toward the door.”
She hesitated. “Do you promise not to shoot?”
“I’m not going to shoot, as long as you don’t do something stupid.”
A slim figure emerged from the shadows, rising above the cot. Long, straight hair hung down around her shoulders, swaying slightly as she moved toward the door, picking her way carefully. For a second, she stood silhouetted in the light filtering in from the moon, the curve of her hips and breasts in sharp contrast to her narrow waist.
She glanced toward him, moonlight glinting off her eyes.
Thorn stared, transfixed.
Then, before he could guess her intentions, she flung herself outside, slamming the door shut behind her.
Thorn shot to his feet, ripped the door open and ran outside. He turned left, thinking she’d go for the motorcycle under the lean-to.
Just as he rounded the corner of the house, he realized his mistake.
Little Joe whinnied, then galloped by with the woman on him.
Thorn tore out after them, catching up before Little Joe could get up to speed.
He grabbed the woman around the waist and yanked her out of the saddle, the force of her weight sending them both to the ground.
The wind knocked out of him, Thorn held on to his prize, refusing to let go, a dozen questions spinning through his mind. Who was she? What was she doing on the Raging Bull, and why did her soft curves feel so good against his body?
Elle James’s Bio:
Elle James spent twenty years livin’ and lovin’ in South Texas, ranching horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus. A former IT professional, Elle is proud to be writing full-time, penning intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edge of their seats. She has 39 works with Harlequin, self published works under pen name Elle James, over 40 works with other publishers including Samhain, Elloras’ Cave, Kensington and Avon and 18 works self-published under pen name Myla Jackson. Now living in northwest Arkansas, she isn’t wrangling cattle, she’s wrangling her muses, a malti-poo and yorkie. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories.
Social Media:
ELLE JAMES
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October 6, 2013
Sabrina York: An Intimate Conversation with Sebastian Marriott (Contest)
Sultry, wounded hero of Fierce, by Sabrina York, A Decadent Press 1NightStand
Read on for 3 giveaway opportunities from Sabrina York!
INTERVIEWER: Welcome back everyone. We’re talking to Sebastian Marriott, CEO of SEM Inc., successful entrepreneur and all around great guy—not to mention, quite a hunk. So Sebastian, we’ve talked about your climb up the business ladder, the booming success of all your companies. But there’s one thing we haven’t discussed.
SEBASTIAN CLEARS HIS THROAT IN A DEEP RUMBLE. Yes?
INTERVIEWER: Your love life.
SEBASTIAN SHIFTS IN HIS SEAT: My love life?
INTERVIEWER: Come on, Mr. Marriott. You know that’s what all the ladies want to hear about. The one question burning in everyone’s mind. Are you single?
CHARMINGLY, SEBASTIAN MARRIOTT, BUSINESS ICON, BILLIONAIRE AND FORBES MAN OF THE YEAR, BLUSHES.
INTERVIEWER: Well? Are you?
SURELY HER QUESTION HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HIS DARK GOOD LOOKS, BROAD SHOULDERS, LONG SINFUL LASHES…
SEBASTIAN: Well, I am seeing someone.
THE INTERVIEWER POUTS. BUT ONLY A LITTLE. Is it serious?
SEBASTIAN BLUSHES AGAIN. Serious? Yes. It is very serious. AFTER A MOMENT, HE CHUCKLES. But it didn’t start out that way. I mean, our first date almost never happened.
THE INTERVIEWER NARROWS HER EYES. A little birdie told me you met through a dating service. But not a…conventional dating service. AN EVIL GRIN. Tell us about that.
SEBASTIAN BLOWS OUT A BREATH. That’s kind of private.
THE INTERVIEWER LEANS FORWARD. This is An Intimate Conversation with Sebastian Marriott. Come now, Mr. Marriott. The world wants to know how you found the woman of your dreams.
SEBASTIAN. All right. The broad strokes. HE RAKES HIS FINGERS THROUGH HIS HAIR.
CURLS TUMBLE. THE INTERVIEWER DROOLS.
SEBASTIAN. As an incredibly busy man I rarely have time to meet women, much less date. So yes, on occasion, I have used a dating service.
INTERVIEWER: But this was no ordinary dating service, was it?
WHEN SEBASTIAN DOESN’T ANSWER THE INTERVIEWER PRESSES ON. It was, in fact Madame Eve’s One Night Stand Service. Where men, and women, can ‘hook up’ for a night of fantasy sex with absolutely no strings attached. IT IS CLEAR, FROM HER EXPRESSION, THE INTERVIEWER WOULD LIKE A NIGHT OF FANTASY SEX WITH SEBASTIAN.
ALTHOUGH SHE MIGHT PREFER THE STRINGS.
SEBASTIAN: That is correct.
INTERVIEWER: So you engaged Madame Eve, she found you your perfect woman, you had this wild night of unbelievable sex…and fell in love?
SEBASTIAN: As I said, this is private.
THE INTERVIEWER, NONPLUSSED, RIFFLES HER NOTES: Okay. So, tell me what you meant when you said the date almost never happened?
SEBASTIAN SNORTS. It had been a really long day. Even though I’d made all the arrangements for a …romantic tryst, I thought about just staying in my suite that night. I was tired. Been traveling all day. But it was more than that. I was tired of…I dunno. Tired of searching, I suppose.
INTERVIEWER: Searching for the perfect woman? Yes. We all know about your first marriage. THE INTERVIEWER MUTTERS IN AN UNDERTONE. If I were your wife, I would never cheat on you with your best friend. And your business partner…
SEBASTIAN: And my gardener.
INTERVIEWER: Yes. Of course. I’d forgotten that one. Suffice to say, you are better off out of a marriage with a woman who is not faithful.
SEBASTIAN, FIERCELY: Fidelity is everything.
THE INTERVIEWER LEANS FORWARD. PATS HIS HAND. You deserve better.
SEBASTIAN: I found better.
INTERVIEWER: But you almost didn’t go on the date Madame Eve set up for you.
SEBASTIAN CHUCKLES. I almost didn’t go. But something about the arrangements intrigued me. So I went down to the bar, where we were supposed to meet. Just to have a drink. Maybe check her out. Hell, I wasn’t even dressed for a date…
INTERVIEWER: And?
SEBASTIAN, SOFTLY: And I saw her. Laughing. Her head thrown back. Eyes sparkling. I was rooted to the spot. Couldn’t leave. Then she and her friend sat down at the table next to me. Chatting, drinking. I listened in on their conversation. Couldn’t help myself. What I heard…well, it poleaxed me.
INTERVIEWER, BREATHILY: What did you hear?
SEBASTIAN’S LIPS CURL, SLOWLY. DIMPLES WINK ON HIS CHEEK. HIS FACE IS TRANSFORMED FROM THAT OF A HARD, INTRANSIGENT BUSINESSMAN TO THAT OF A MAN IN LOVE.
INTERVIEWER, AGAIN: What did you hear?
SEBASTIAN SITS BACK AND CROSSES ONE LONG LEG OVER HIS KNEE. HE FOLDS HIS FINGERS OVER HIS BELLY AND QUIRKS A BROW. That, my dear Delilah, is private. But it was what I wanted. What I needed. What I’d been craving down to the depths of my soul. She is. My. Everything. That one night—which almost didn’t happen—gave me everything I’d been missing in my life. And more.
INTERVIEWER SIGHS. GAZES AT HIM DREAMILY: Oh Mr. Marriott…
AT HER PRODUCER’S NUDGE, SHE COLLECTS HERSELF. Well, we are almost out of time. Two more questions, Mr. Marriott, if you don’t mind.
SEBASTIAN: Sure.
INTERVIEWER: Question number one. When does the world get to meet this perfect mystery woman?
SEBASTIAN, FINGERS A SMALL BOX IN HIS POCKET. BITES BACK A SMILE: Soon.
INTERVIEWER: And if you could describe her, in one word…what would that word be?
SEBASTIAN’S SMILE BROADENS, BLOSSOMS INTO A GRIN. In one word?
INTERVIEWER: Yes.
SEBASTIAN: Without a doubt… Fierce. My Katie is fierce.
About Fierce
The last thing Katie is expecting—when she meets her friend Joy for a girls’ weekend in Vegas to celebrate her divorce—is an ambush. But Joy, determined to get Katie “back on the horse,” has submitted her profile with Madame Eve—who’s found her the perfect man.
Katie doesn’t want another man. She certainly doesn’t want or need confirmation that it’s her fault Mark could never satisfy her in bed.
When Sebastian—scarred by the infidelity of his wife—overhears Katie’s confession, and the fact that she was faithful to her husband for ten years even though he never met her needs, he’s intrigued. More than intrigued. He’s determined to prove to this gorgeous, tempting, fascinating woman that she is not frigid. In fact, she is fierce.
He took her empty glass from her and set it on the table. Then he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her away from him.
She glanced over her shoulder with a frown. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Just a little massage while we talk. Do you like massages?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Didn’t your husband ever give you one?”
She shook her head.
Yeah. He hadn’t thought so.
Idiot.
“Well, relax and talk to me while I work out the kinks.”
“Talk?” she squeaked.
“Ask me questions. Anything you want to know.”
“Um…. Okay…. How long were you married?”
Damn. Anything but that. It took everything in him not to tighten his grip. Instead he deliberately softened it, moved over her muscles with tender arcs. Took command of his rioting emotions before he answered. “We were married about six months. Together for six years.”
She stiffened. “Six years is a long time.”
“It is. But when you travel a lot, sometimes you think you know someone and you don’t. Turns out she was stepping out on me most of the time. I just didn’t find out until after we were married.”
Katie put her hand over his, where it lay on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” He continued his massage, working his way down her back. “Do you like this?”
“Hmm? Yes. It’s nice.”
He leaned forward and set his lips to her neck, gratified she allowed it. She smelled of vanilla and musk. Her skin was silky and soft. “And this? Do you like this?”
“Umm hmm.” Again, she tipped her head to the side. He shifted closer and slid his arms around her waist, held her, nuzzled her, until she eased back into him. Only then, did he allow his hands to make their way up her torso. He paused before he reached her breasts, teasing the bottom of each swell.
“And this?” he breathed. “Do you like this?”
“No.”
He froze. “No?”
She gave a grunt and repositioned his hold. Directly over her breasts. Her nipples gouged his palms. His sanity. Lust shot through him and his cock shot up like a steel rocket. Still, somehow, he managed not to maul her, not to clutch those supple globes, to weigh them, press them together.
Although his restraint made him sweaty.
He renewed his assault on her neck and held her tenderly, moving only slightly, rubbing ever so subtly against her swollen peaks. He was rewarded for his discipline when she arched back into him, resting her head on his shoulder, murmuring a moan.
“Do you like this?” A harsh whisper.
“Yes. Yes.”
In this position, he had an unobstructed view of her body. Her skirt had ridden up on her thighs—and those thighs were parted.
Oh, this was not a cold, passionless woman. Not at all. Tiny little clues gave her away. The soft hush of her breath. The impatient twitch of her hips. The way her tongue peeped out now and again as though she couldn’t hold it back.
He couldn’t wait to prove to her just how passionate she was.
So he didn’t.
WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT FIERCE
“Dear Madame, the sex was hot, Hot, HOT! I was engaged from start to finish. Even though this is a very short read it is filled with a lot of HEAT !! “–5 STARS from MsRomanticReads
“Sparks fly between Katie and Sebastian and they ignite an unbridled passion in each other…smoking up the pages of my Kindle.”—4 STARS from The Book Chick
“Short erotica that delivers heated, passionate sex scenes along with sweet and very likeable characters Quick, fun, sexy erotica.” –S.Richards, Amazon Reviewer
“As a quick pick me up bedtime read – this ticks off all the boxes.” –Gaele, Amazon Reviewer
“The story is short and steamy. Sabrina York NEVER skims on the details in the sex scenes, and this story was no exception.” –Angie G, Amazon Reviewer
Get it now:
WIN!!
Enter to win a copy of Fierce by posting a question for Sebastian below!
Enter to win Sabrina’s Tiara by liking her Facebook page! The winner will be selected from all likers to celebrate 1,000 likes!
Enter to win a signed print copy of award winning erotic romance Tristan’s Temptation on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/14058608-tristan-s-temptation
About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, writes naked erotic fiction for fans who like it hot, hard and balls-to-the-wall, and erotic romance and fantasy for readers who prefer a slow burn to passion.
An award winning author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers, her titles range from sweet & sexy erotic romance to BDSM to erotic horror. Connect with her on twitter @sabrina_york, on Facebook or on Pintrest. Check out Sabrina’s books and read an excerpt Amazon or wherever e-books are sold. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Don’t forget to enter to win the royal tiara!
Sabrina York Social Media Links
Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest
Twitter: @sabrina_York
Book Links:
Ellora’s Cave | Amazon | Barnes and Noble
All Romance Books | Smashwords
October 4, 2013
Charlie Cochrane: What Ends Up in a Book
If, as frequently happens, something funny—or out of the ordinary—occurs in the Cochrane household, one of my daughters will usually say, “That’s going to end up in one of your books, isn’t it?”
And, because I’m the world’s worst liar (any career as a secret agent would be totally beyond me) I say, “Um. Yes. Probably.”
I can’t help it. I get inspired by little incidents, turns of phrase, quirky things which turn up. They can’t be left buried in the family memory: they need to be shared with the world. So when my eldest daughter’s boyfriend refused to take some medicine he needed, that was always going to end up as a scene in one of the Cambridge Fellows books. He had Orlando’s characteristic reticence and pig headedness down pat!
I guess there are two elements in this, for a magpie type writer like me, who snaps up unconsidered trifles left right and centre. One is the “you couldn’t make this up” aspect, which I’d better explain. I have been known to think of something ridiculous and then do it. Helping on a school trip, I was watching children roll down a grassy bank. “That looks fun,” I thought, so I gave it a go. They might have been having a whale of a time, but I thought I was going to die. Time expanded, so I was able – as I made my Usain Bolt like descent – to imagine the newspaper headlines. “Chair of governors dies on school trip. She was arsing about, says headteacher.”
That sort of incident, the vividness of the emotions I felt, is meat and drink to an author. We don’t have to imagine the feelings of that near death (it seemed like near death at the time) experience. We recall them all too well, so they add veracity to our writing. (Yes, I did use it. Jonty and Orlando roll down a hill and think they’re going to die in Lessons in Desire.) We are told to write what we know (although there are many arguments against that, not least the fact that as soon as you write about anybody other than yourself, you’re writing what you clearly don’t and can’t know). Bringing the emotions and experiences we know into the stories we tell will help to bring them alive.
The second aspect is the old saw that “truth is stranger than fiction”. Some of the coincidences in life could never be put in a story because the reader would find them too farfetched, although we know these sort of things can happen to us every day. But some things are usable. The Cochranes were staying at a country house (actually it was a stately home) hotel and were given a tour by one of the staff. I was fascinated by the bell board for the servants and how each bell had a specific tone so the staff would know where to go. Lovely little fact, and one which immediately sparked a plot point, even before there was a story to include it in. That plot point remained all the way through drafts and edits and into the final release, because the original premise was so fascinating.
My advice to aspiring authors would be to make a note of anything which piques your interest. If it intrigues you, chances are it’ll intrigue other people. And you always need ideas for your scenes and dialogues. Don’t ignore the ones which land in your lap!
An invitation to stay at a friend of the Stewart family’s stately home can only mean one thing for Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith—a new case for the amateur sleuths! With two apparently unrelated suicides, a double chase is on.
But things never run smoothly for the Cambridge fellows. In an era when their love dare not speak its name, the chance of discovery (and disgrace) is ever present—how do you explain yourself when a servant discovers you doing the midnight run along the corridor?
The chase stops being a game for Orlando when the case brings back memories of his father’s suicide and the search for the identity of his grandfather. And the solution presents them with one of the most difficult moral decisions they’ve had to make…
“Are we content, Dr. Coppersmith?” Jonty, warm from the port and just slightly dishevelled from an encounter with the family’s Irish wolfhound, stood in Orlando’s doorway in the guest corridor to say his goodnights. Although, as usual, the loquacious toad couldn’t just say “see you tomorrow” and have done with it. Not when five hundred words would suffice.
“We are. Two mysteries. What more could a man want?” The man he loved to share his bed with him, obviously, but neither of them would be getting that. They’d managed a bit of room hopping at the Old Manor—where nobody seemed to bat an eyelid—and when they took a two-bedroom suite at a hotel, but neither of them was going to risk a pyjama-clad slink along the corridor at Fyfield.
Maybe Jonty was feeling the same reluctance to part for the night.
“The nature of the cases not worrying you?”
“No!” Orlando said, avoiding Jonty’s gaze but not able to avoid the disapproving sniff. “Sorry, shouldn’t have been so abrupt. No, I’m fine.”
Jonty leaned his head against the doorframe, clearly weighing up whether he was being told the truth and how far to pursue it if he wasn’t. Orlando had seen that determined look before.
“As you wish.” Jonty stifled a yawn. “I shall see you in the morning. Breakfast and then interrogating the chambermaids?”
“Something like that. Sleep well.”
“I will. My head will hit the pillow and then it’ll be morning tea time.” Jonty slipped away to his room, leaving Orlando, unmoving, staring at the door. Sleep wasn’t going to be easy to find, with dormant memories of his father—cruelly awoken more than once today—dogging his thoughts. He was far too used to having Jonty’s cold feet in the small of his back or his gentle snoring in his ear.
Maybe he could lull himself to sleep by dreaming up a plan of campaign to solve what seemed like two impossible problems.
Buy links: Amazon | Amazon uk | ARe
Charlie’s links:
www.charliecochrane.co.uk
http://charliecochrane.livejournal.com
