Cait Miller's Blog: Sizzling Scribes Blog, page 4

Christmas in May?

Last summer, I wrote a book. My first full length novel since before my daughter got sick. She’s been in remission for two years, but it took me forever to get the writing mojo back. This particular story, SON OF A PREACHER MAN, was one that was in my head FOREVER. 
Or so I thought.
I started the story with a basic idea that sprung from listening to the Dusty Springfield version of the song. As I started picturing the story in my head (I see my stories like movies and then I madly scramble to write down what I “see”) it morphed and changed. Suddenly, my heroine was a gypsy. 
What? What did I know about gypsies?
Not much, so I researched and researched and researched until I felt like I could at least try to write a believable character without insulting anyone. (And I really did try, so if I screwed up, I apologize.) As the story moved along, characters who were going to be villains turned out to be nice, new characters sprang up, and people I was going to just mention briefly demanded bigger roles in the book. 
Who’s writing this thing anyway? I mean seriously, there were times I felt downright possessed. I wrote and wrote and wrote and when I wasn’t writing, I was thinking about it. The story consumed my life for all of last summer. 
Next week, it’s coming out from Samhain Publishing. I feel like a kid before Christmas. I’m counting down the days waiting for it to go live. I stalk review sites in a vain hope someone has an advance review for the book (no one has so far) and I stare at the cover art every day. 
Seriously, I feel like a girl with her first crush, wondering if the popular boy will like me as much as I like him. I loved writing the book, I loved the characters, even if they were a bit strong willed, and I LOVE my cover. I so hope people will read it and will love it too.
In the meantime, the countdown continues.  

Cleaning - and Keeping

My parents are getting on in years and Mom’s thoughts have recently turned to cleaning out the house. She wants us kids to have certain things before the two of them pass on. One, she wants the joy of seeing us get the stuff we can use/like/want and two, they’re going to downsize soon and this will be less she has to pack/get rid of later.
The problem is, I’m at the same stage. I’ve been going through our own attic and consolidating and donating “stuff” for the past year. My husband and I have been married for thirty-two years (come this June) and we’ve managed to amass FAR too many possessions over the years.
Some of what I’ve kept is for my kids’ places, when they get them. When Steven and I first married, we decorated with a combination of Early Garage Sale and Parent’s Attic. It was great! Mismatched table lamps, a gaudy couch that didn’t match anything, a kitchen table that had seen several generations of newlyweds – they all found a home with us. When our kids leave us, many of those same items will move on a generation further.
Which is why I came home from my parents’ cleaning with a trunk full. Some 1000-piece puzzles we’ll make and pass on, a table that my mom remembers being her mother’s, more than one bottle of liquor (unopened and old...but then, whiskey never goes bad, right?)...all things we’ll use or use up and a few things we’ll pass on to our kids when they leave.
Because, no matter how old we get, sentiment gets us – and more stuff comes into the house.
Sigh.
Play safe!Diana

Springtime in Texas

Springtime in Texas means the bluebonnets are in bloom. They start blooming in early April and only last about six weeks, darn it. I would love for them to last longer.

Bluebonnets aren't the only wildflowers we enjoy in our beautiful state. There are also pink primroses.



And Indian Paintbrush. Their orange color is so striking against the green grass.



Plus these cute little yellow daisy-looking wildflowers. I'm not sure of their name, but I don't need to know the name to enjoy them.



And many more. If you want to see something truly beautiful, visit Texas in the springtime. You'll love our wildflowers as much as we do.

Lynn

Collective Nouns!

For years I’ve had this strange fascination with collective nouns. Now, I didn’t realize they were called “collective nouns” until recently but that’s beside the point. A collective noun is a group of things, like a flock of seagulls (the birds not the band), a herd of caribou and (because I went to a Catholic university) a gaggle of Nuns. 
Here are some of my favorites.
An Unkindness or Conspiracy of Ravens (Appropriate because truly I think ravens are the thugs of the bird world.  Tell the truth...don’t they look like little mafia hit men?)A Murder of Crows (And what do you call two crows? Attempted murder!)A Prickle of Porcupines A Parliament of OwlsA Charm of Finches (several bird groups are called “charms” which I think is just adorable)A Cowardice of Curs (another brilliant collective noun!)An Ostentation of Peacocks A Murmuration of StarlingsA Dazzle of ZebrasA Blessing of UnicornsAn Ascension of SkylarksA Clowder of Cats (I used this in Jackson’s Rise. Reign is a cat shapeshifter and when all the cats get together—basically for an orgy—they call it a Clowder)
There are many lists available on the Internet.  Below is a link to one that I found particularly enjoyable!                                            Have fun,Tiellehttp://animal.discovery.com/animal-fa...

For the love of Dad, 28 hours round trip in a car.

Over the past few months, my Dad's health has been an issue. He was diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure (CHF). At the time, he considered it a death sentence, which in many cases it is, if the patient gives up and has no drive to get better. At my current age, he had a quadruple bypass and really never did much to increase his health. He is now a diabetic as well. Being in the health care profession, I've come to notice many who have anything done to their heart end up with diabetes as an after effect.
This past weekend, my daughter, Casey and I drove down to Georgia to spend a couple of days with him. It took 14 hours, we were dead tired and a bit giddy by the time we got there, but it was worth the trip to see him.
We hugged, talked, caught up, shot the shit, played cards, and scrabble. In essence we made a few new memories. The weather was crappy so we were stuck inside for most of our visit. I even nagged him about his weight, his eating habits and the amount of dust on his exercise bicycle. Not to mention, I wasn't at all happy he's smoking again. UGH! I told him I'd rather see him drink a glass of red wine everyday than smoke a pack of cigarettes every 2 days.
Parent's just don't listen. LOL! I'm planning another trip to see him in September for his 70th birthday. He said he hopes he makes it till then. I told him I hope to not see a cigarette anywhere in his house and that includes his wife, Karen. Hopefully, they quit. If she actually stopped with him, I think he'd stand a chance at succeeding. I have no intention of not continuing to gently push him toward a healthier way of life without pissing him off at me. I'm not ready to be parent-less.
Just spending time with him made me realize how much I'd miss him if he were no longer here. He's my only living parent. I lost my Mom five years ago to Liver and Pancreatic cancer. The only vice she had were cigarettes. She died at 64.
The two of their health issues are the reason I try to change my future with exercise, eating healthier (I do as best as I can with this), and I don't smoke. My only addiction is Ice Cream and I'm really trying to avoid it. I was in Jazzercise this morning and plan to be there every morning as long as I don't have work. Sometimes the paths our parent's take are not the paths we as their children choose to follow.
Life is all about choices. Choose to be healthy. It may not guarantee a long life but at least you stand a better chance of feeling fantastic each day you do live.
My dad looked a lot better than I expected when I arrived and I'm hoping he only gets healthier every day. I plan to celebrate his 70th in style whether he likes it or not. LOL!
                                             My Daughter (Casey), my Dad and Me

The Human Condition

Recently, I was watching an independent film that was written by, performed by, and produced/directed by Inuits. The movie was in the Inuit language with English subtitles. (The English title is The Fast Runner, if you are interested.)

Now, I am not a movie person, and I'm especially not an independent film person, but this movie fascinated me. The storyline was based on an Inuit legend from the turn of the last millennium. What hooked me though was the love story at the core of it.

There were many other layers to the movie that touched me or made me think, but I realized, whether it is native peoples from the Arctic Circle, pioneers from the Western Expansion, business men from New York City, or space rangers from Planet X in the year 3000, the search for love is an intrinsic aspect of the human condition. As a species, we all want to love and be loved.

There are times when I feel slightly uncomfortable telling people about my writing. I've had people say, "You seem so smart, why are your wasting yourself writing romance?" or "Are you going to continue writing romance or move onto something more challenging?" as if writing romance was something I did in my sleep without any effort whatsoever. I think SOME people look down on romance novels as "less than" literature.

To them I say, you can kiss my left cheek.

Romance and the search for love is what ALL literature is about, in some aspect or another. Let's face it, unless you are writing about robots, people (and animals) have feelings and emotions and literature is an expression of emotion. (And hey, even the robots in "WallE" fell in love!) There is no plot without conflict, and I'd say a good majority of conflicts involve people with emotions.

So the next time someone asks me what I'm reading (or writing) I'm going to say I'm exploring the human condition.

And the sex isn't bad either.

Revisiting Old Friends

I buy a LOT of books, so much so that they are kinda taking over my house. I know some of you can relate to this. My friends say “Why do you keep all these books? Do you re-read them? Why? Don’t you know them by heart?”

They just don’t understand.

Aside from the fact that I can’t bear to see a book thrown in the trash, some of these books are like old friends. I love a new book. Losing myself in new characters and new worlds, continuing adventures of beloved characters. But… sometimes you just want to revisit old friends. People you’ve known for years and re-living memories. Experiencing those emotions again and spending time with people you love. This month I’m re-reading the Anita Blake series and it’s been long enough that it’s almost like the first time.

Who are your favourite old friends?

Delicious Burn Coming Soon

My newest book, Delicious Burn, is in the editing-and-proofing stage. I expect to have it uploaded and ready to purchase at the online ebookstores by March 15th. In the meantime, here's a sexy little excerpt to whet your appetite.

* * * * *
Everett had wanted to taste Drew's mouth all evening. The reality topped his fantasy at least one hundred times. Soft, firm lips caressed his, a tongue peeked out to tickle the seam of his mouth. Everett gladly parted his lips to accept the other man's exploration. Drew sipped at his lips, nibbled at the corners, swiped his tongue across the gentle bites. Everett returned each caress, until his breathing became as labored as right after his last climax.

Drew ended the kiss with one last soft graze of his lips. He leaned back, but didn't release Everett's nape. "Does that answer your question?" he asked in a low, gravelly voice.

"Yeah." Everett's voice came out as gravelly as Drew's.

He set his bottle of Pepsi on the nightstand. "Do you have any other questions?"

"Yeah," Everett repeated. "Kiss me again?"

Taking Everett's bottle from his limp hand, Drew set it on the nightstand next to his. He tunneled his fingers into Everett's long hair and covered his lips again.

Heaven. Everett swore heaven couldn't be any better than the taste of Drew. He laid his hands on the firm muscles of the man's chest, not moving, simply absorbing the warmth and smoothness beneath his palms. He parted his lips, accepted Drew's tongue inside his mouth. The tang of Vella's pussy lingered on Drew's breath.

Pulling back, Everett peered into sky blue eyes. "Do you prefer women?"

Drew's hands flowed over Everett's shoulders and down his arms. "I enjoy everything about sex with a woman." He ran his hands back up Everett's arms and into his hair again. "But I love sex with a man."

Feeling the exact same way, Everett nodded. "I know what you mean."

"So do you want to keep asking me questions, or do you want to fuck?"

"I want to fuck."

http://www.lynnlafleur.com/delicious_burn.htm
And don't forget this week is National Ebook Week! Support your favorite author or authors by buying an ebook or two.



Have a great week!
Lynn

Wicked Good Fun!

I've got a new story coming out this Wednesday from Ellora's Cave. It's called On Being Wicked.

If you've read either "Fairy Dust" or "Marvin and the Three Bears," you'll understand the havoc that is created with some of the sexed-up Fairy Dust gets thrown on Rapunzel.

On Being Wicked is short and sexy and has some good chuckles as well. Below you'll find the back cover blurb and a quick taste of the tale.  Enjoy!

On Being Wicked

Takes place in the world of Fairy Dust and Marvin and the Three Bears.Discovering a prince is secretly visiting her prisoner, Rapunzel, the evil witch decides to punish them both—until a little harmless meddling from a substitute Fairy Godmother transforms her from harried hag to horny hottie.Now there’s no time for hexing, what with all the sexing, including a hands-on (and mouth-on…and tongue-on) warm-up courtesy of Rapunzel and her prince, and a lusty punishment from two gorgeous guys who put the “wood” in “woodsmen”.The witch is about to discover just how wicked she can be.Inside Scoop: This story has just enough sexed-up Fairy Dust to produce a hint of female/female fun, a pinch of male/male pleasure and a heaping helping of ménage.
Excerpt Chapter One
Marvin reached his hands above his head and stretched, savoring the strain in his muscles, the ache in his ass. He smiled at the not-so-subtle reminder of how he’d spent the night.
Flu had taken down half the Fairy Godmothers in Fairy Tale Land and he hadn’t been able to visit his Bears for three days. Papa Bear had taken out his frustration on Marvin’s ass in the most delightful way.
Marvin giggled. He might have to miss a few visits if that was the reaction he got from Alex.
And perhaps not by choice. Several Fairy Godmothers were still out so he had to jump back into the role. This morning he was monitoring Rapunzel. He sighed. It was one of his least favorite tales. Everyone was miserable for most of the story.
He glanced into the Looking Glass and waited as the scene cleared. The tale began. The woman who lived next door stole the lettuce from the witch’s backyard. The witch demanded the couple’s child as payment.
“If anyone needs to get laid, it’s her,” Marvin muttered. “Getting pissy because someone ate your lettuce?”
He looked over at the sparkling, silver-and-gold Happily Ever After Fairy Dust spinning in its jar on the counter. That’s what she needs…some of Marlena’s special sexed-up Fairy Dust.
He chuckled. No, he couldn’t do that. It would be wrong.
And a little bit funny.
But wrong.
He tapped his fingers on the edge of the Looking Glass, reminding himself that as second-in-command of Fairy Tale Land, he had responsibilities. He couldn’t just change a tale because he didn’t like it.
But then he thought about how well his own tale had turned out. Maybe mixing up some of the traditional stories wasn’t such a bad idea…
He sighed and continued monitoring the story. The tale progressed as it should. Rapunzel locked in the tower, growing up, her hair growing long. The witch visiting and calling for the hair to be dropped down.
I can’t believe kids read this shit, he thought. Who would have a braid long enough and strong enough to support the weight of a human body? And the witch is no lightweight.
Marvin sighed again. At last, it was almost time to add the regular Happily Ever After Fairy Dust. The prince walked toward the tower, ready to visit his beautiful blonde. The witch stepped out of the forest, freezing as she saw the prince call for Rapunzel to let down her hair.
Damn, this story needs a boost.
His gaze flicked once again to the sexed-up Fairy Dust, the sparkles swirling lazily in the jar.
“Oh, what the hell.”
Before he could think better of it, Marvin grabbed the jar and scooped out a small handful. He took a breath, closed his eyes and opened his palm over the Looking Glass.
The gold-and-silver sparkles floated down toward the scene. He waited. Listening. Holding his breath until he heard the telltale, “Ah-choo!”
The edge of his mouth kicked up in a knowing smile and he leaned over the side to watch.

http://bit.ly/15nihdl

New release!

Jumping in quick to let you all know I have a new release. UNDER HIS SPELL is written under my Mystic Shade nom de plume since it deals with "the shadier sides of our desires." (wicked grin)

This full-length novel is available in all ebook formats, but be warned! It contains scenes of hypnotism, bondage, whipping and other BDSM activities. It ain't for the faint of heart, that's for darn sure.

The blurb is in the sidebar (now edited), but here's an excerpt to whet your appetite:

UNDER HIS SPELL
by Mystic Shade
All Rights Reserved


Prologue
Alex silently slid back the panel in the door that opened a tiny window into the cell beyond. Curled into a fetal ball, the remains of a once-proud, independent woman lay sobbing after her most recent use. From here he could see the cum smears on her ass cheeks from where the men had taken her tiny hole with their massive cocks – and he smiled.Sliding the panel shut, he turned to the older woman beside him. “This one is nearly broken?”“Very nearly, sir. She still sobs, which implies she still has resistance, despite the contract she signed. A few more sessions and she will be ready for the next step of her training.”“Excellent, Annabel. You have done well, as always.”“Of course I have, sir. I was trained by the best.”Alex heard the pride in the woman’s voice and had the good sense not to smile. Hand-picked from the offerings at the very first slave auction his family ever held, the now-elderly woman had lost none of her own discipline and training. Since his father’s untimely death, “Miss Annabel” had become simply “Annabel” to him, and an invaluable asset in keeping the family’s side business going.“Let me see the next one.”“This way, sir. Follow me.”The woman’s thinness might lead one to think her a frail old lady, but Alex had to smile as she led the way down the brightly lit cinder-block corridor to the next cell. Anyone fooled by her small size would have that illusion immediately dispelled by the crisp command in a voice that brooked no disobedience.A month before his thirtieth birthday, Alex Davidson had become full owner of his family business when his father died of a heart attack while in Miss Annabel’s arms. It was a wonderful way to go and he hoped someday he might find a slave of his own who would be as dedicated as the woman beside him was to his father.He paused before the next cell, the thick door muffling but not silencing the strident voice coming from within.“Get me the fuck out of here. You can’t keep me chained like this. I demand to see a lawyer. Who the fuck do you all think you are?”Alex only raised an eyebrow at Annabel who shrugged. “A new acquisition. Just came in this morning.”Alex nodded, opening the panel to a string of vituperation. “Fuck you! Open that fucking door and let me the fuck out of here. This isn’t what I signed the fuck up for.”“Does she know any other adjective?” Alex’s voice was deliberately calm and impersonal.“Not that we’ve heard, sir.”Alex chuckled at Annabel’s tone. Still, he had to ask. “And her paperwork is all in order?”Annabel’s dry look was all the confirmation he needed. His father had always been adamant. No slave who wasn’t here willingly. Each woman had to not only sign a contract, but also sign in front of witnesses of her own choosing.“Fuck!”The scream from inside the chamber made Alex chuckle again. Getting past the second thoughts was always the loudest part of the training.“No food or water until she learns how to say ‘please’.”“Fuck you!”Alex shut the panel with finality. He’d enjoy watching this one fall. Always far more fun to break the ones with spirit than the crybabies who were scared of their own shadows. His father always kept three slaves in various states of training, feeling that to have too many spread the attention too thin. Alex had been running the business for a year and thought they could handle as many as five, but kept to his father’s model for now. So far, it had worked well. But times were changing and the demand had grown. He had some new ideas of his own he wanted to try and in fact, had already put some into practice with Annabel’s assistance. But there was one more cell, and one more slave-to-be to see.“Show me the last one.”With a smile that would have chilled a lesser man, but which said to Alex that Annabel liked the way this next one was coming, the woman walked to the end of the corridor, pausing beside the third cell. Again Alex slid open a panel to peer inside.The slender woman inside turned at the slight sound, dropping to her knees and facing the door. He’d caught her in the act of doing a series of stretches slaves were expected to do to keep themselves limber. But now she knelt on her heels, her knees spread wide, her hands behind her head and her breasts pushed forward in offering, her eyes down in submission. There hadn’t been a moment’s hesitation in her move. “This one will fetch a good price,” Annabel told him, and Alex saw a blush of pride come up in the woman’s cheeks. “Excellent. You have done a marvelous job, Annabel.”The older woman pursed her lips and only Alex understood the look for a smile.“Thank you, sir.” She indicated the woman inside. “You have been away and have not had the opportunity to sample this one’s talents. Shall I send her to you?”“Has she been tested?”“Yes.”“I take it she passed?”“She begged at the door for entrance.”He smiled. “Then send her to the office. I want her services worked into tomorrow’s schedule.”Annabel nodded. “Yes, sir.”Alex shut the panel and followed the older woman along the corridor, parting with her at the elevator to the office building above them. “We are glad to have you back, sir.”He paused in the elevator. “Thank you, Annabel. I am very glad to be back.”


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