Liz Crowe's Blog, page 13

WORLD CUP 2014: Across the Beer Bar with Victoria Adams

HAPPY WORLD CUP!
I'm going to be personally celebrating the Beautiful Game's 4 weeks of awesomeness with some visits by fellow authors and others who also love sports as much as I do!

My Soccer books are ALL on sale in honor of this incredible event!The Black Jack Gentlemen Trilogy! Each one is only a buck! Here are links for these 3 books about Detroit's Bad Boys of Soccer!Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=liz+crowe+black+jack+gentlemen
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/liz-crowe-black-jack-gentlemen?store=allproducts&keyword=liz+crowe+black+jack+gentlemen


















PLUS!Caught Offside, a 1NightStand novella from Decadent Publishing:Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Caught-Offside-1Night-Stand-Book-ebook/dp/B006QYVKG2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1402317615&sr=8-1&keywords=caught+offside+liz+crowe
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/caught-offside-liz-crowe/1108101907?ean=2940032955924
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/118255
Liz: Today, I welcome VICTORIA ADAMS.Welcome to the Liz bar Victoria! What can I get for you to start?Thank you for letting me drop by. I'd like a Diet Coke – lots of ice and some chocolate. Liz: Um…ok….(pours herself a stiff bourbon and passes the cola across the bar)So why a hockey story? What is your interest in that sport?
I can answer both questions with 2 words – I'm Canadian. Hockey is genetically coded into us. More of us can sing the Hockey Night in Canada theme (the old one – the good one) than can sing the National Anthem in both languages.This will tie in with the question that follows – hockey is just hockey in Canada. Some countries call it ice hockey – but not here. If there is a distinction it is floor hockey, field hockey, street hockey and roller hockey.
Liz: Yeah there are a fair number of hockey nuts around Detroit too. You say you love football/soccer...who is your choice for a World Cup win this year and why?
Yes, I can say I love football/soccer - #1 - my daughter is a keeper. In non-football terms that means goalie. She started playing women's league soccer when she was 12. Played on travelling teams, varsity high school and varsity university. She now plays in a women's league and she's finally the correct age. I still go to see her games when I visit. I've seen A LOT of games.#2 – Next reason I can say I love it, Saturday afternoons, when the Premiership is on BBC Canada, I'm in front of the TV.#3 – The final reason is – in my next book – which the rough draft is written but has to undergo massive rewrites – the heroine and hero play football/soccer.
Why do I call it football/soccer? Actually in Canada, we tend to call it soccer as we are influenced by our US neighbours. But I want people to know which sport I'm talking about.
Liz: Yeah, I have myself a female super star soccer player too. She started in 2nd grade and now plays on a youth National League team, on the Olympic Development Program and is being recruited by Division 1 colleges to play. It's exhausting for everyone concerned. But she loves it.
So….in your opinion, who's going to win the World Cup? Group A- Brazil – home country advantageGroup B – Spain.Group C – ColumbiaGroup D – want to say England, but I'm going with ItalyGroup E – France – look at the list of professional - wowGroup F – Nigeria – I love cheering for the underdogsGroup G – sorry USA, I'm predicting Germany – they are a powerhouseGroup H – tough one - BelgiumFinal – Germany vs Spain – Spain wins
Liz: There you have it, make notes. I will say I am with this all the way. My 2 favorite national teams are Germany and Spain although I also wish the (hot) young legs on the U.S. Men's National team all the best in the Group of Death!
SEE HOW MINE COMPARE ON MY POST AT VICTORIA'S PLACE HERE:
http://victoriaadams.blogspot.com/2014/06/amazon-best-selling-author-and-beer.html
Now for my soon-to-be released NA contemporary romance- A Guy and a Girl

TaglineLies, deceits and secrets - not a good way to begin a relationship.
BlurbAfter an ugly past forced Hunter Connolly to escape to Europe, the talented hockey player is back in North America and determined to land a position with a professional team. But he can’t hide from his past forever, especially when his beautiful classmate, Chelsea, forces him to reexamine his life. Soon, hockey is not his first priority anymore.Chelsea Henderson is a bright co-ed working towards her dream of being a professional dancer. She forms a unique friendship with one of her father’s newest recruits and would love nothing more than to take it to the next level. However, there’s just one small problem. He doesn’t know she’s his coach’s daughter.Amid the deceptions, danger lurks closer than they could ever imagine. Will fate contrive to rip the young lovers apart? Or will Hunter and Chelsea have their shot at love?Excerpt –To Hunter's relief, he wasn't handed a name tag at registration. Instead, he received his Thorton College student ID card and directions to his first class. He entered from the top left door of the huge amphitheatre lecture hall and sat five rows from the back, having a clear view of the fifteen people as they scattered throughout the lecture hall below him. He dropped his notepad on the seat next to him and looked at the small number of students. Hmph, small college, little class. Not so easy to hide in.One girl, with long reddish-brown hair and seductive green eyes stumbled on a step, did a double take when she noticed him, then sat two rows away. Hunter suspected she was sneaking glances his way. He tried to catch her eye, but she was subtle in her movements.The professor, dressed in bright plaid shorts and a blue dress shirt, walked in to the podium, dropped his briefcase on the table and pulled out papers. "This is Communications 290C. If that is not on your schedule, scat!" No one moved. He removed his glasses, dusted them with a white handkerchief and resettled them on his face. "I'm Professor Campbell. That's C-A-M-P-B-E-L-L, like the soup company. I expect you to be prepared to work. This is a compact course. No time for absences or excuses. Do we understand each other?"Hunter stifled a snort as he watched various heads bob in agreement. Brown noses. The cute girl scratched her forehead while tapping her pencil on the desk."Good. Now let's get out of here. I hate cold impersonal lecture halls. Seminar room 136 is empty. Go grab yourselves a coffee and meet me there in ten minutes."The class shuffled books and papers then wandered out of the room. Hunter stopped in front of a vending machine, pulled a handful of change from his pocket and dropped it into the slot.The girl from class paused at the coffee dispenser next to him. "OJ at this hour of the day? Oh, that rhymed."Hunter chuckled, as his gaze scanned her long lean torso and tanned legs."Don't you need something a little stronger? I know I do." She pressed Coffee. Black."Unfortunately, this isn't early for me. I've been up since six-fifteen." He kept his gaze fixed on her while he removed the cap and chugged half the orange juice."6:15." She shuddered. "Is it even daylight then?" She sipped her steaming coffee."This time of year, yeah.""I hope I never see that hour."Hunter fumbled with his drink, caught it, then laughed before wiping his lip. "I know what you mean. It isn't my decision to be up that early. Do you know where 136 is?""Follow me. I'm Chelsea.""Nice name." He held out his hand. "Hunter." When she offered hers, he gripped it. Her tiny fingers were dwarfed by his, her skin smooth and soft. The top of her head didn't quite reach his shoulder. He had to fight to keep from losing himself in her smile.Together they walked towards the seminar room. Chelsea glanced sideways at him. "I take it you're new?"He nodded. "Did Professor Campbell—""Like the soup company.""Like the soup company. Go from Mr. Grumpy to Mr. Nice-guy? Or did I miss something?""No. The man took a sharp turn to the left. Speaking of which." She pointed to an open door. The tables in the seminar room were set up in a square with students seated around. Yes. Two seats, side by side. Play it cool, dude.Buy Links – not available yet. But soon!
Where to find meBlog – Victoria's Pages of Romance – http://victoriaadams.blogspot.comFaceBook - http://www.facebook.com/victoriaadams.romancewriterFacebook Author Page - http://www.facebook.com/pages/Victoria-Adams/244325918978641 Facebook - Circles Trilogy Page - http://www.facebook.com/CirclesTrilogy?ref=hlTwitter – http://twitter.com/_VictoriaAdamsWebsite - http://victoriaadamsromance.wix.com/victoria-adamsGoogle+ - Victoria AdamsWattpad - http://www.wattpad.com/user/VictoriaAdamsPlus – Triberr, Amazon Author, LinkedIn, SocialOmph, Goodreads etc

Across The Beer Bar With…Um...I Forgot!

I am honored to have author Geoff Nelder across my bar today. Geoff is the author of an amazing and unique novel I had the honor of enjoying (and reviewing, keep  going) called ARIA: Left Luggage. It's a science fiction/ medical thriller. More on that later. First to the important stuff--the charging of our glasses!

Welcome to my beer bar Geoff, what can I pour for you to start? Many times I’ve been taken in for questioning, but this is the first time the interrogation began with an a la carte invitation for a drink. I need to keep a clear head in case I have to escape sharpish so I’ll have a Brazilian thanks. Cheeky, rich, fruity aroma, black and just a hint of chocolate and a dash of hazelnut liquor.  It always tickles to think that coffee started off in the African continent and is now mostly grown in South America while chocolate began in the Americas and is now mostly grown in Africa. It tickles my penchant for contradictions. Any chance of a biscotti?
See what I did there? I made you smell the coffee. Aromas are big in my stories.
Well, now that is admirable and earnest and adorable. But sorry, this is a beer bar dude, not the bloody American Bar at the Sa-voy. Here, try this Neapolitan Milk Stout from one of my favorite Michigan Breweries, Saugatuck Brewing on the beautiful west coast of the Great Lakes State….It allows you to experience a perfect blend of classic dry stout character with brilliant flavors of Neapolitan Ice Cream along with the nostalgic flavors of chocolate, vanilla and strawberry all in one glass – because sometimes ice cream just isn’t enough.
**********gives you a moment to savor it***************


Oh, hey did you see what I did there? Made your mouth water….tastes are big in my world.






What gave you the idea for the ARIA concept? At uni studying Ed Pysch, my hand was worn out making notes on cognitive behaviour and memory. Mum lost her short term memory after a stroke. She repeatedly asked me the time, and was this the same girl in my bedroom as yesterday? I became obsessed and still write stories involving amnesia. One Liz: Well either that or "ARIA: Shades of Spanking" or "ARIA: Shades of Luggage." You know, I am all about that search engine optimization when folks are seeking The Next Big Thing. (wait! I've got it! "ARIA: Shades of the Fault in Our Stars With Spanking and a Billionaire" Don't ever say I don't do my SEO homework for titles.)



Are there more books in the series? Tell us about them. I wrote Left Luggage as a stand alone and that contrary streak in me had the urge to write a scifi with no aliens in sight, nobattles in space and a human story that was more of a mystery than a story out of this world even though it sort of is. It seems to me that when we encounter aliens we probably won’t recognize them for what they are, won’t know how to communicate with them, and not really understand why they’re here. Then readers wanted to see what the aliens looked like and why they came to Earth, so ARIA: Returning Left Luggage gives you aliens and the complications set in. The human survivors struggle, relationships stretch to breaking point yet with ironic humour. The aliens are ... strange. Like Book One it’s about human survival, apocalypse and a unique what-if.
Readers of Book one followed by Book two demanded a finale. What’s the alien planet like? Can humans live there? Have they already been there? If anything ARIA: Abandoned Luggage is my favourite because when you travel out of this mundane world, anything goes. This time it’s the aliens struggling for survival, their apocalypse and a kind of house swap on a planetary scale.
 Liz: I cannot wait to read the next one!
Oh look, empty glass, what can I pour for you next? Do you have what us Brits call ‘Real Ale’? What’s that, Craft beer – excellent, and a buxom German serving wench, please?
Your wish, my command: 

 In case it’s too wet, can I have some lightly-salted crisps? That’s right, chips.
Liz: It is so cute when people forget that I lived in Merrie Olde England (and as a result "got" a lot of the Brit-talk, slang and jargon your characters tossed around I might add).  I know crisps from chips. Never fear. And there is no such thing as "too wet" beer, for your future reference.
As for a next brew, I would highly recommend this one, a No-Parking Euchre Pils from a brewery right in my fair city of Ann Arbor, Michigan, Arbor Brewing Company. These guys were the real pioneers of craft brewing in the state. It's  brewed with all imported German Tettnang hops for a classic crisp, dry, full-flavored Pilsner character. It is a deep golden, medium-bodied lager. Crisp and clean with a mildly salty noble hop bitterness. ("Euchre" is a "midwestern" thing--a card game, look it up)

What book project are you working on now? While holidaying on the Mediterranean island of Malta I discovered to my astonishment that in 1551 the entire population of Malta’s sister island, Gozo, was abducted by pirates. Surely all those people’s spirits are crying out for revenge? A contemporary couple are thrown together by those ancient spirits because unknown to them one is a descendent of the pirate leader, and one is related to one of the abducted. What an excuse to make many field trips to Gozo! Xaghra’s Revenge is written, critiqued, edited and ready to roll. It has an agent in Rebecca Pratt Agency near Philadelphia, who is hawking it around publishers as we slurp.
Liz: Cool. I hope to find agency representation for my upcoming thriller novel myself, if I can manage to get it polished around all this drinking.***Pardon The Interruption While Liz Posts the Requisite Hot Dude Holding Beers***

















Thanks..whew….had to slide those guys in there, you know…

Do you want to continue to self publish or do you have other plans for upcoming books? Actually, the ARIA Trilogy is small-press published by a Scottish / Texas publisher LL-Publications. My other science fiction novel, Exit, Pursued by a Bee, is published by Double Dragon and my two thrillers, Escaping Reality and Hot Airare published now as ebooks by Adventure Books of Seattle. The nearest thing to self publishing for ARIA are a couple of editor’s cutting floor chapters that have found their way in my blog and a prequel short story called Een’s Revolt on Zadig. Zadig is a moon of the aliens’ planetary system and this is a completely non-human story. However, the main character is a granddad, like me, taking his grandkids for a hike, like I do. He’s naughtier than me but otherwise a fair bit of me is in his character. You can read it for free or practically free as it is published in a Science Fiction Writers Sampler 2014 on Kindle ASIN: B00KREH10G
Liz: Who is your favorite character in ARIA: Left Luggage (I kept switching myself, which is one thing I love about a well-crafted novel). Manuel is my favourite character in the whole ARIA Trilogy ever since he caught the amnesia bug and woke up next to a ‘strange’ woman each morning, yet cared deeply for them, once the screaming died down. I can tell you as a spoiler that he survives the trilogy, and is rather like that alien granddad, Een, in the sampler prequel mentioned above.

Liz: And for a nightcap: what's your poison? As I’m not driving, I’ll have a Barley Wine beer? Falling off my bike.
Oh, easy peasy lemon squeezie: Have this, it's the Anniversary Ale from another of my favorite Michigan breweries, Shorts Brewing in Bellaire. It's a high-gravity wheat wine made with blood oranges. Flavors range from the spiciness of green peppercorns to the tang of blood orange zest. Aggressive dry hopping of Simcoe hops amplifies the citrus overtones and spiciness found throughout the beer. It does have a rather high alcohol content, but don't be afraid. I'm the Beer Wench. I'll toughen you up a bit.

NOW For the pimpage: Blurb: Today, Jack caught a bug at work. He catches a bus home. By the time he disembarks in the desert town of Rosamond, all the other passengers and the driver have fuzzy heads. Jack had caught an amnesia bug, and it’s infectious.
Imagine the ramifications:

The passengers arrive home, infecting family; some shop en route infecting everyone they meet. The bus driver receives more passengers giving them change for last week’s prices and today’s amnesia. Some passengers work at the power plant, the water treatment works, the hospital, fire station. All shut down in weeks.

One man, Ryder Nape, realizes what’s going on, but can he persuade friends to barricade themselves in a secluded valley, hiding from the amnesia bug?


“Geoff Nelder inhabits Science Fiction the way other people inhabit their clothes.” 
— Jon Courtenay Grimwood 

“Geoff Nelder's ARIA has the right stuff. He makes us ask the most important question in science fiction--the one about the true limits of personal responsibility.” 
—Brad Linaweaver

Robert J. Sawyer calls ARIA a “fascinating project.”

“ARIA has an intriguing premise, and is written in a very accessible style.”
—Mike Resnick

Linkage:Here’s a free sample from the second book ARIA: Returning Left Luggagehttp://geoffnelder.wordpress.com/2014/02/19/free-excerpt-from-aria-book-2/
ARIA is on facebook at http://www.facebook.com/AriaTrilogy ehugs to anyone that ‘likes’ it!Kindle – Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/ARIA-Left-Luggage-ebook/dp/B008RADGYC/
Paperback Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/ARIA-Left-Luggage-Volume-1/dp/1905091958/
Kindle – UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/ARIA-Left-Luggage-ebook/dp/B008RADGYC/
Paperback UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/ARIA-Left-Luggage-Geoff-Nelder/dp/1905091958/
Publisher’s website with more details and formats. http://www.ll-publications.com/leftluggage.html
And the sequel
UK Kindle http://www.amazon.co.uk/ARIA-Returning-Luggage-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00D7TW2D4/
US Kindle http://www.amazon.com/ARIA-Returning-Luggage-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00D7TW2D4/
A wikia page about me and the ARIA Trilogy is http://nelderaria.wikia.com/wiki/NelderAria_WikiLinks to buy ARIA and other of my books are on my Amazon author pageGeoff’s UK Amazon author page http://www.amazon.co.uk/Geoff-Nelder/e/B002BMB2XYAnd for US readers http://www.amazon.com/Geoff-Nelder/e/B002BMB2XY
Twitter ye may at @geoffnelder
ARIA: Left Luggage received this award as well:
And now that I am thoroughly lubricated (yes, I said that) I submit to you my review:
ARIA= Alien Retrograde Infectious Amnesia
What's worse? The scary alien monster you can see or the one you can't that slowly but surely reduces you to only your childhood memories and then…to what?
An incredibly creative twist on the plague virus concept, mixed with some of the funniest and most realistically facile dialogue I've had the pleasure of reading in a damn long time, this plot is one you will likely never be able to forget--so to speak. 
The astronauts who discover the "luggage" (a case that is "left behind" by what must be some fairly diabolical aliens with a sick sense of humor) treat it carefully as protocol demands. But what I love most about this book is how very human (read: flawed) all the characters are. It's just too damn tempting so the case gets compromised (opened), and it releases some sort of invisible gas or air-borne virus that will, over time, erase your entire memory. Oh, and it's 100% contagious. Just by being "exposed" (i.e. in the same general vicinity with) someone infected you will start to go backwards in time--a sort of memory "Benjamin Button" syndrome.
Imagine it: waking up every morning and having to check your smart phone/email/hand written yellow sticky notes just to be able to recall your name, your spouse's name, your kids' names, where you live, what you should eat, what you even LIKE to eat, or medicine you need to survive, literally EVERYTHING about yourself.
Are people immune? Some, perhaps. Can it be reversed? Well, there is, maybe another piece of luggage these forgetful (!) aliens have managed to leave behind that, by the end of this novel, is perhaps the solution, no one knows for sure…yet.
For me, the value of a book like this is less the "science" part of the science fiction. Oodles of books are written with that part correct or verifiable or well crafted. Many of them have pretty darn creative premises as well (Hugh Howey's "Wool" comes to mind). However, unlike that book (I only read one of the many, it was enough for me) in this one, the author captures my imagination with his wide cast of unique characters and prose that is so sharp and shiny you risk cutting yourself on it. 
I care about these people, and he manages to make me do so without a Stephen King-esque epic. In a fairly short time, by way of his clever use of dialogue interspersed with quick action, I "get" these people and I "give a shit" about their final outcomes. And I would agree that, while Manuel's story is one of the more hilarious ones (think: "Groundhog Day" only every morning it's a different woman and you have to "remember" who you both are) I'm a fan of Ryder--ALTHOUGH (one criticism here) I would have liked to have Jena be a bit less the prototypical "tough chick" and a bit more accessible. However, their connection worked for me. 
I'm "Team Ryder" as we girlie girls like to say!
I also thoroughly enjoyed the way the survivalist instincts and actions of the folks who have attempted to isolate themselves from the virus are interspersed with how much they annoy each other in close quarters. People fall in and out of infatuation with each other, they fight like normal people, and yet most of them survive--with their memories intact (at least by the end of this book). There's even a sexy, Italian doctor who goes, shall we say, a little "Doctor Strangelove" on the group.
Because I write what most categorize as "romance" (although there is a fairly vocal contingent who would heartily disagree) I tend to be drawn to books and plots that are heavy on characters ("character-driven" as we jargonistas like to say). While I do not require that all characters be "likable" I do want to find them interesting enough that I am compelled to continue reading. To my mind, Mr. Nelder has done something pretty amazing for me as a non-reader of science fiction. He made me care about his characters and drew me into the entire concept with one of the funniest "love scenes" ever, between a man who is unknowingly infected by the amnesia virus who goes home and has mind blowing sex with his wife--whom he divorced already.  
This book gets a "5 BREW RATING" from me. Go get it, and be prepared to lose some hours of your day dropping into ARIA: Left Luggage.


 And so there you have it. Very soon Mr. Nelder shall turn tables on Your Favorite Beer Wench a.k.a. Liz and read one of her books (PARADISE HOPS) and render his opinion. I'm pretty terrified. The guy is a professional editor too. Pass me a beer, will ya Hans? 

(Liz and her Muse, Hans. He is the bomb and he brings me beers)
Cheers y'allLiz

WIN THE RINGS~by K.D. Van Brunt~Book Blitz!

I'm love to host book blitzes for book I want to read! Look! Here's one now!





Be sure and enter K.D.'s contest! He's giving away:
• One randomly chosen commenter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
• One randomly chosen host will receive a $25 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
Enter at the bottom of the post!



Win the Ringsby K.D. Van Brunt
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
Jace has been the property of the U.S. Army since they found out about her when she was five, and now she has become one of its most valuable weapons. But Jace is not the only one of her kind. Gray is one too, but with the help of his sister, he has spent most of his sixteen years hiding from the Army.
Now, the Army has found out about Gray and they cannot allow him to roam free. Operating on the theory that it takes one to catch one, Jace is send out with a special ops squad to hunt Gray down. But Jace is not the only one pursuing Gray, and the competition is after her too. What ensues is a desperate chase through city after city as duty and honor collide with love and sacrifice.

I’m sitting in a Starbucks near Fenway Park in Boston with one hand wrapped around a warm caramel macchiato and the other scrolling through websites on the iPad Nia bought me with some of our loot.  We’ve relocated to a HoJos near Fenway Park, where we plan to stay for a week before relocating to another place.           On a whim, I Google my name, something I haven’t done in a long time.  In the past I’ve never really dredged up anything remotely interesting.  This time, though, I’m surprised at the number of hits—the full spelling of my first name is Grayson, and Jesus, there can’t be many people with that oddball name.  As I’ve complained to Nia before—my God, what were Mom and Dad thinking?  I’ve spent my life wishing I had a bland name like Jack or John, anything but Grayson.  What does it even mean?  The son of Gray, like the color?             Sighing, I skim down the list of hits and there it is.  I see me—Grayson Edward Price.  I tap the entry and I’m redirected to the website for the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children.  I gasp.  I’ve never seen this before.  On the screen appears a picture of me when I was five.  The page has my date of birth, a physical description, and couple of sentences on my story.  It says I was kidnapped by my sister.  I read the next sentence and freeze, unable to breathe—I was reportedly seen last year in Dallas.  Yes, we were in Dallas for a month before moving onto Houston, but who would recognize me in Dallas?  Nia is going to freak over this.            Nia let me go out by myself today, mainly because she’s feeling under the weather, and she knows there’s few things more boring and depressing than being confined to a hotel room with a sick person.  But if I show her this reported sighting, I can kiss good-bye to ever going out alone again until I’m like thirty-seven.  As I’m grappling with this dilemma I overhear two boys talking at the table next to me.            “Come on Parker, we’ve got ten minutes to get back to school before lunch ends,” one boy says.            “Nah, I’m skipping,” the kid named Parker says.  “Let’s hang out at my place.”            “Can’t, I got too many UAs,” the other boy says, before screeching back his chair to leave.  Parker pulls out his phone to make a call, but fumbles it and the phone clatters to the ground by my foot.  I pick it up and hand it to Parker.           “Thanks man,” he says to me.            “You’re welcome.”  On a whim, I hold out my hand.  “I’m Gray.”            “Parker.”  He takes my hand, and I give him a firm shake just long enough to acquire him and pull through everything in his pockets.            I have an idea; something fun I can do to salvage this day.  After Parker leaves the store, I head for the bathroom to check out what I got.  Parker Birch, I discover, is a seventeen-year-old junior at Fenway High School down the street.   He doesn’t have a girlfriend—bummer, but he seems to be relatively well liked at school, at least that’s what he thinks.  He’ll do.   That seals it.  I’m going to spend the afternoon going to high school.

Author Bio:AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Bio:    K.D. Van Brunt has been writing professionally his entire career and has published an extensive list of nonfiction works. Win the Rings is his first fiction book. When not writing, he reads and listens to audiobooks during his daily drive through the sea of gridlock that is commuting in and out of Washington, DC. A long time resident of Maryland, he can often be found tromping around the many civil war battle sites in the area. To find out more about K.D. Van Brunt, including bonus content relating to Win the Rings, check out his website--www.kdvanbrunt.com--and follow him on twitter--
@KDVanBrunt.

Website:  www.kdvanbrunt.com
Video trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNMk5OMYji8
Amazon:   http://www.amazon.com/K.D.-Van-Brunt/e/B00IUFSVCG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21395951-win-the-rings
Facebook: www.facebook.com/KDVANBRUNT

 And now….ENTER the CONTEST!

An Absent Mind by Eric Rill

****Be sure and enter! Use the Rafflecopter link at the end of the post!

• One randomly chosen commenter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.



An Absent Mindby Eric Rill
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:


A riveting new novel from Eric Rill, author of Pinnacle of Deceit and The Innocent Traitor, is about a race against time. The ticking time bomb is Saul Reimer’s sanity. His Alzheimer’s is going to be the catalyst that will either bring his family together or tear it apart.


Excerpt:She’s pushing me around like some kind of kid in the playground. I mean, I’m still okay, not gone off the deep end—yet. Why can’t she just let me be? Let me have the last whatever time I have to be happy. But that’s not her style. She’s still as pushy as ever, still the master controller. Still wants to run the damn show.
Today was a perfect example. She must have called Nat Friedman sometime during the night. I heard some noises while I was tossing and turning in bed. At first, I thought it was the cat, but I don’t think we have one. And besides, the sounds were too big. So it must have been her in cahoots with Friedman. I’ve suspected them for a long time. They’re trying to steal my money, making sure my final days are miserable and denying the kids what is rightfully theirs. Friedman was always a money-grubber. One of those two-bit lawyers who prey on their clients by jacking up fees to whatever they think they can get away with. He’s done it to me, to Arthur Winslow, to everyone who goes to him. Why we keep going back, I don’t know, except they’re all the same. I remember Mark Miller, a big shot tax lawyer with one of the major firms in the city. I referred a friend to him, and he hosed him so badly for doing almost nothing. Worse thing was, he didn’t even do what little work there was. He passed it down to some minion, showed up for a couple of meetings, and then sent a bill that would have sunk the Titanic—but that’s another story.
I can accept the overcharging, but I don’t think someone like Friedman should use his fancy degree and being a member of the Quebec Bar—big deal, member of the Bar—to take advantage of Monique. Although my guess is that the last few years she didn’t need a lot of coaxing. I think she’s been fooling around for a long time. But Friedman, he’s supposed to be my friend. Some friend, speaking to my wife in the middle of the night, conspiring to get rid of me so they can be together and steal all my money.
Well, I showed them today. Friedman wanted to be the guy who handles my stuff while I’m alive and wanted Monique to help him. Do I look like a schmuck? I know they’re both like vultures waiting for their prey to die so they can suck on its sweet flesh. They want the right to kill me. Yes, that’s correct—kill me. When you sign one of those things, and if you’re a little bit off your rocker, or in a … you know, like a deep-sleep thing, they can tell the doctor to kill you. In two seconds, they can send you to heaven or hell.
So I sat there and listened and nodded and whatever, and they thought I was being suckered by their sneaky plan. But when Monique left the room, I told Friedman I wasn’t going to let them do me in. He gave me one of his phony endearing smiles and assured me that wasn’t the case.“What is the case?” I asked.
He said he was only trying to help me, to look after me, to watch over the family, Joey, Bernie, Florence, and, of course, Monique.
“Yeah, I bet you’re going to look out for the family,” I said. I told him I knew about him and Monique.
Again he plastered that sympathetic smile of his on his face, like he was so sorry for my inability to see the truth. Sometimes I think they take a full semester in law school learning how to do that smile. Friedman must have got an A. Anyway, I told him he wasn’t going to be the one who decided anything about my money, or when I die. He put his hand on my arm and asked me to reconsider, again giving me that damn beaming grin of his. God, I would have liked to have dented a few of those too-white teeth of his. But then he probably has big connections with the police, being a big shot lawyer and all. And I didn’t want to spend my last days in some stinking jail having those perverts try to make me their girl, or whatever you call it. Those guys are sick, really sick. Sicker than me. Can you imagine big macho guys doing that stuff to each other? No wonder they send them to jail!
Enough of that. Let me tell you how I handled the will thing. You see, at first, before I knew that Monique was fooling around, I was leaving her everything, so long as she took care of the kids and willed them whatever was left when she was gone. So while she was sitting in Friedman’s conference room, filing her nails, or whatever women do when they have nothing to do—which in Monique’s case is often. I mean volunteer work at the YMCA … big deal. She never really worked. I mean never had a real job. She always said she wanted to but that she couldn’t find work because she had no experience. Then when she got older, she said no one wanted to hire a woman her age. Gimme a break. If she wanted to get off her fat tush and find a job, she could have. But she preferred to have me sweat day and night to make the money while she played mahjong with her fancy lady friends. Well, they say you always marry your mother!
Anyway, while she was in there, I discussed it all with Friedman. Yeah, I decided to keep Friedman as my lawyer. I’m getting too sick to start changing at this point, and they’re all crooks anyway. He told me maybe I should just keep everything as is and that if I want to make changes in the future, I should let him know. That makes sense, I guess, because first of all, I’ll be damned if I’ll pay him to change my will twice—there would be almost nothing left! And besides, I’ll see how Monique behaves. Maybe I’ll leave her something; maybe I won’t.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Eric Rill was born in Montreal and graduated from Cornell University with a Bachelor of Arts, and from UCLA with an MBA. He held several executive positions in the hospitality industry, including president of a global hotel group. His hobbies include trekking, scuba diving, and collecting antique carpets.  Eric has two sons and divides his time between his residence in Panama and international travel. You can reach him at his website at: www.ericrill.com








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What To Read After 50 Shades of Grey~~The Gemstone Collection Is Live!

What to Read After 50 Shades of Grey, the Facebook page, website and app has released its first book bundle! SEVEN full length novels! ONE low price of .99!


All links are LIVE now:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JVWZH24 Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/433647iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/what-to-read-after-fsog/id871585639?ls=1&mt=11Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/what-to-read-after-fsogB&N Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/what-to-read-after-fsog-cj-roberts/1119468448?ean=2940149524617




I want to share the full blurbs and a few excerpts from each of the 7 books included in The Gemstone Collection: Part One.
CJ ROBERTS: Captive In the Dark
blurb:

Caleb is a man with a singular interest in revenge. Kidnapped as a young boy and sold into slavery by a power-hungry mobster, he has thought of nothing but vengeance. For twelve years he has immersed himself in the world of pleasure slaves searching for the one man he holds ultimately responsible. Finally, the architect of his suffering has emerged with a new identity, but not a new nature. If Caleb is to get close enough to strike, he must become the very thing he abhors and kidnap a beautiful girl to train her to be all that he once was.

Eighteen-year-old Olivia Ruiz has just woken up in a strange place. Blindfolded and bound, there is only a calm male voice to welcome her. His name is Caleb, though he demands to be called Master. Olivia is young, beautiful, naïve and willful to a fault. She has a dark sensuality that cannot be hidden or denied, though she tries to accomplish both. Although she is frightened by the strong, sadistic, and arrogant man who holds her prisoner, what keeps Olivia awake in the dark is her unwelcome attraction to him.

WARNING: This book contains very disturbing situations, dubious consent, strong language, and graphic violence.
Excerpt: He leaned over me, kissing away the tears on the side of my face. And still he didn’t move. It wasn’t enough to fuck my body; he wanted to mindfuck me as well. It was working. I wanted him to be nice to me. To kiss me. To make it nice for me. I was scared it would hurt, and I once again looked to him for protection. How messed up was that!Then he fucked me.In my entire life, I never felt anything like it. Sensation assaulted me, paralyzed me, as if my mind could not possibly keep up with how I should react. My entire body trembled and shook around him as he impaled me over and over again, and yet, there was a sick sort of pleasure also present. It built up inside me and begged to be released. Was it always like this? Would it feel the same if he fucked my…even my thoughts demurred away from the word pussy. Caleb calls it your pussy. I came. Hard. The force of it stilled him inside me as I pulsed around him. He made a pained sound and pressed his mouth to my shoulder, “God…I knew you’d be like this.” Before I had a chance to ask what he meant, he moved inside me and all thought fled.I came several more times while he fucked me, each time, it reduced me more and more into someone I recognized less and less. Finally, he squeezed and pulled at my ass. “You feel so good. I love your tight little ass.” He grunted and slammed into me. He swelled inside me and I couldn’t believe it was actually getting bigger. He moaned loudly, “Oh fuck!” Moments later he filled me with his semen.When he no longer pulsated inside me he collapsed on top of me, whispering reassurances in my ear. I whimpered softly under him as he once again became all softness and comfort. He reached for something and placed it underneath me. He pulled out slowly, his cock inching its way out of me and creating an overwhelming panic. Would his semen come running out of me! I clenched without meaning to and he hissed. Again, he had found new ways to humiliate me. Tears streamed down my burning cheeks.We bathed together for the first time, crammed into the tub, my body between his legs, against a part of him I had yet to see. He held my head on his chest. I wept, indifferent and exhausted against him, all my strength gone. He stroked me, washed me, spoke to me. “What’s your name?”“Kitten,” I whispered weakly.“And mine?” he tensed beneath my fingers.“Master.”After the bath, he toweled me in silence. I was grateful. I climbed into bed without protest, seeking the oblivion of sleep even as I prayed I wouldn’t dream of all that had just transpired. Violation, confusion and more uncertainty. More powerlessness. My prayers, like all of them, were left unanswered. He lay down next to me, and I knew sleep was not an option.I opened my eyes and stared into the dark. I was numb—heartbroken. Not only was I shocked over what he’d done, but I was more shocked over how he’d managed to turn my body against me. The pain had been intense, and yet at times it was as if that same pain added to the violent shiver that coursed through me when he’d made me come. Shame had overwhelmed me. Part of me had more than enjoyed it. The few times he’d eased off of me just before that shiver, I’d held onto him tighter. Where am I supposed to go from here? I lay there, my eyes wide, my breath shallow, my soul defeated, and I stared into nothingness.He lay next to me, naked and warm, against my skin. I tried not to move, not to think of him, not to think of anything but this dark room that was quickly becoming my entire life. My tears ran across my face, out my right eye, across the bridge of my nose, into my left eye and down onto my pillow. My pillow, my only friend. I sobbed, determined to keep my tears private. They were mine, not his. And he wouldn’t care anyway. He doesn’t care about me anyway.“Kitten, that’s no way to behave,” he said, his voice denoting he was wide awake and ready to torment me. “I know it wasn’t all bad for you, you came— more than once.” His words cut me and a strong pang of humiliation in my chest made me draw tighter into myself. I wanted to say something vicious, but swallowed it down. I didn’t want to open my mouth, if I did, I would just burst into tears and I didn’t wish to cry anymore. I was sick to death of crying. He kissed my head and I jerked it away.I swallowed very hard and took a long slow breath.“All you want to do is hurt me,” I said calmly. A hint of fear laced my words. I expected more violence but didn’t give a shit. Instead he shushed me.“Come here,” he said, very gently, sounding so safe. “It’s going to be okay.”He grabbed me roughly and turned my face into his chest. Before I had any thought about it, I wrapped my arms around him and held on to him as hard as I could. He was my tormentor and my solace; the creator of the dark and the light within. I didn’t care that he would undoubtedly hurt me at any moment; right now, I just needed somebody to hold me, somebody to be kind to me, somebody to tell me exactly those words. It’s going to be okay. It wasn’t, of course, I knew that. But I didn’t care. I needed the lie. I needed my books, my movies, and now Caleb’s arms.He held me for what seemed like an eternity and rocked me gently, until all my crying had lulled and I simply rested against him. “Please don’t leave me in here. I hate it in here.”His fingers caressed the side of my face and it gave me hope. But then I felt him inch his way out of the bed. Without a word of reassurance, he gathered his clothes and left me.Lost, I lay back down and pulled my pillows closer. They smelled like him.

Arianne Richmonde: Shades of PearlBlurb:
Documentary producer, Pearl Robinson, is a beautiful and smart forty year-old divorcee but has not had a date for over two years. When she hears about Alexandre Chevalier, a young French, Internet billionaire, she assumes he is a nerd. But when she bumps into him face to face, she's stunned by his charm, beauty and sophistication, and startled by her strong feelings and desire for a man fifteen years her junior.* His looks, wealth and worldwide triumph with his social media site, HookedUp, means he can get any woman he chooses, but there is something about Pearl he finds irresistible...The couple begins a passionate affair and Pearl's body is awakened in ways she never imagined possible. She is consumed by him and his magical touch. But secrets, jealous family members and other external forces are threatening to pull them apart. ***Sexy strong language and erotic content**
SMOKING HOT EXCERPT: “I’m not kidding, Pearl, you’ve been disrespectful and I’m going to have to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.” I notice his jeans are back on but he’s topless. He grabs a couple of silk ties from his closet. He lifts me up again and carries me like a child and dumps me on the bed. “Lie on your back.”“What are you going to do to me?”
“You’ve been a bad girl.”
“I was just kidding.”
“I’m French, I don’t share your sense of humor.” He binds each leg so I am straddled on the bed on my back, legs wide open, each ankle attached securely with an ice blue silk tie to the brass bedstead. I want to thrash myself out of this position but curiosity is impelling me to stay. A little voice flashes through my brain saying, Idiot, what if he’s like that American Psycho character? All charming, at first, but who’ll stab you in a hundred places and chop you up – too rich to be caught, so clever he gets away with it all. He said himself he was capable of murder.
Please help me God, I hardly know this man.
He’s scanning my body with his eyes. “Okay that will work. Now, these pearls will do nicely for your wrists.” He takes the pearl choker from his pocket. “I’m going to tie your wrists together with this. Now, you know how valuable this is, don’t you?”
I nod. God knows what he paid.
“Any struggling, and you’ll break it, and we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He fiddles about with it, his expression severe. No kissing – his look is tough. I sense he is genuinely annoyed with me. He wraps the pearl choker about my wrists and guides my tied hands above my head. “I was going,” he continues, “to let you open the box with your gift inside, but now you’ve spoilt things. Now you won’t get to see it, only feel it - because I’m going to blindfold you.”“Please don’t hurt me, Alexandre.”
“But you’ve been bad, and as I said, you need to be punished, Pearl. Haven’t you ever heard about a Frenchman’s pride? I’m going to have to teach you a lesson in good manners.”
From his other pocket he produces a blindfold. It’s big, somewhat padded or something.
I feel so vulnerable lying on my back, my hands tied together above my head with the pearl choker, my legs wide open, each ankle bound.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I repeat. I think back to our conversation in the Corvette on our way to rock climbing, and remember how horrified he seemed to be by bondage, and yet here he is about to do something cruel. Will he bring out a whip?
He leaves my side for a moment and is doing something - putting on a record – it’s an old-fashioned record player. Music begins. I recognize it - Chopin – I used to play it on the piano – Prelude in E minor. He puts the eye mask about my head. It’s heavy on my eyes as if it’s been weighted down with something and it smells of heavenly lavender.
His voice is low. “I had this eye mask made for me. It’s stuffed with lavender from my fields in Provence, together with grain to make it weighty. I’ve put on a record as the sound is always crisper than a CD – I love Chopin - isn’t this beautiful?”I feel more relaxed with the soft music and fragrance of lavender all about me, heavy in my nose, but I’m still nervous -thinking about what he’s going to do to me as I can’t see a thing. Why did I stupidly hide in his closet? It was all going so well!“I’m going to open up your gift now. If you hadn’t been so disobedient, Pearl, you could have done it yourself.”
“What is it?” I ask with trepidation.
“You’ll soon find out.”I hear the ribbons being untied and the lid of the box being pushed off, as it lands on the sheets beside me.
“I’m going to start now, okay, Pearl? Your punishment will begin after I count to three. Are you ready?”
I brace myself for something horrible. Tense my legs and stomach and scrunch up my face in preparation. “One.”
His voice is low, forbidding. My heart is pounding with dread.
“Two.”
I can hear his heavy breathing – he’s really concentrating, and adrenaline is pulsing through my veins.
“Two and a half.”
I’m really scared now.
“Three.”
Yet....Nothing.
Then I feel something so light I know he can’t have started the punishment. There’s a tickling on my toes and then above my ankles. It is brushing me weightlessly along my calf. It is not his finger, what is it? A paintbrush?
“Can you feel what it is?” he asks in a soft voice. “It feels good. Really good.”“Remember that little story you told me? About your first time?”I’m focusing now. It’s on my other leg, trailing up my thigh. It is indescribably erotic. Not being able to see or move, I still feel fearful, but the sensation is radiant, wispy. I am aware of my pelvis moving, wanting whatever it is to move higher between my legs.
“You still can’t guess, Pearl?”
“It’s a feather.”
“A Kingfisher feather. It’s blue and orange at the tip. Can you imagine how pretty?”
He’s tracing it up my body, onto my belly and circling it around my breasts. It’s barely credible how such a light, helpless object can have this sensual effect. It’s under my arm now and it tickles. Now on my throat, my lips, and now back on my throat, my shoulders, flicking with such delicacy on my nipples. I’m tingling all over.
“It’s glistening like a little pearl.”
“What is?” I ask.
“A part of you I want to put my lips around and then fuck.”

ELAINE RACO CHASE: Double Occupancy
Blurb: 

All Casey Reynolds wanted was peace and quiet and a long vacation from covering the crime beat in Boston. That's why she agreed to borrowing a villa in Mexico to rest, be alone and work on her novel.

But then he showed up -- Travis Craig. He said he was offered the villa to recover from a serious illness. He had just lost his teaching job and had no money to leave.

She agreed with his plan to share the house -- but on her terms. Soon rest and relaxation were a thing of the past when their double occupancy proved too erotic to control.



A few fun and sexy snippets:

Travis pushed her away slightly, and efficiently dispensed with her lace panties and his briefs.  "You have no idea how many times I wanted to kick down your door…"  He roughly pulled her into his arms,  "And throw you on that bed…"
"I really wish you would."  Casey gave a little squeak as he did just that.  

***************
Casey had been taking advantage of the condo's private sundeck when Travis had come marching onto the penthouse roof carrying a birthday cake decorated with lit candles.  "Happy birthday to – good heavens!"  His song sputtered to a halt.  "What on earth are you doing?"
"I am celebrating my birthday."
"By lying naked in the sun?"
"This is my birthday suit."  Casey opened her eyes and grinned at him.  

**************************

"What is that little gem?"  He inquired in a deep voice that enunciated each word.
"It's called Yolanda's Seven Erotic Knights."  She grinned at him, her dimple making an appearance in her right cheek.  "That's knights with a k."
"You mean you've been sitting there all this time, reading some trashy porno novel?"  Travis sat up, his bare feet hitting the marble floor with a resounding slap.
"Well, it's not really that pornographic,"  Casey returned with due consideration.  Her expression was serious, but her green eyes were alight with laughter.  "Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday's knights, that's with a k, were nothing to really write about, but hey, Thursday, well…he's getting very, very interesting."  She raised her eyebrows expressively giving her best leer.
"Give me that book," he ordered, yanking off his glasses and tossing them on the sofa before standing up.
*********************
A sudden burst of adrenaline mixed with a heady combination of excitement and danger launched her into action. She managed to wiggle one arm free and slam her elbow into his solar plexus.  The result was an instantaneous release from her captor and a sweet sound of a groan of surprise.  Casey wedged her forearm against this throat and used her long, athletic body to pin him against the mattress.  “All right, buster,” she growled forcefully, “what the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s not buster,”  he automatically corrected, “its Travis.”  She caught the flash of white teeth and knew he was laughing at her.
“Whatever,” she returned gruffly.  “You’ve got some questions to answer, and don’t get any ideas because I’ve got a black belt,”  Casey pushed her arm tighter against his Adam’s apple.  The coiled strength of his muscular body relaxed beneath her.  She smiled to herself, savoring her advantage.  "Now, what are you doing here?"

KRISTINE CAYNE: Deadly Obsession
blurb:

 When an Oscar-winning movie star meets a department-store photographer… 

Movie star Nic Lamoureux appears to have a playboy’s perfect life. But it’s a part he plays, an act designed to conceal a dark secret he carries on his shoulders. His empty days and nights are a meaningless blur until he meets the woman who fulfills all his dreams. She and her son are the family he’s always wanted—if she can forgive a horrible mistake from his past. 

A Hollywood dream… 

Lauren James, a widowed single mother, earns barely enough money to support herself and her son. When she wins a photography contest and meets Nic, the man who stars in all her fantasies, her dreams, both professional and personal, are on the verge of becoming real. The attraction between Lauren and Nic is instant—and mutual. Their chemistry burns out of control during a photo shoot that could put Lauren on the fast track to a lucrative career. 

Becomes a Hollywood nightmare 

But an ill-advised kiss makes front-page news, and the lurid headlines threaten everything Nic and Lauren have hoped for. Before they know what’s happening, their relationship is further rocked by an obsessed and cunning stalker who’ll stop at nothing—not even murder—to have Nic to herself. When Nic falls for Lauren, the stalker zeroes in on her as the competition. 

And the competition must be eliminated. 

excerpt:
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Fine. Do it.”Nic bent down and brushed his lips against hers. For the first few seconds, she didn’t kiss him back, but she didn’t push him away, either. Then, on a sigh, she leaned into him and her arms locked around his neck. His tongue darted out to taste her bottom lip. Mmm… cherry—his new favorite flavor. When her mouth opened, he didn’t hesitate. He dove in. And drowned.He’d meant this to be a quick kiss, only now he just couldn’t stop. His lips traced a path to her throat. Cupping her bottom with his hands, he lifted her up, grinding against her. She moaned. It was a beautiful sound, one he definitely wanted to hear again. A loud noise pierced the fog of his lust. He raised his head from where he’d been nuzzling Lauren’s apple-scented neck to tell whoever it was to fuck off, but as the sexual haze cleared, he swallowed the words. The paparazzi had gathered around, applauding and calling out crude encouragements. Some snapped photos while others rolled film. Shit. He’d pay for this fuck-up and so would she.
 JOYA RYAN: Break Me Slowly
blurb:

Graduate student Katelyn Gunn is headed for her first day of assistant teaching when she is almost hit by a car. The nervous and inexperienced Kate is shocked to realize that it isn’t the near death experience that has her heart racing, but the sinfully sexy man behind the wheel. Adam Kinkade is ultra-wealthy, devastatingly handsome, and the most powerful distribution mogul in Chicago—he is also the first man who ignites emotions inside of her other than fear. 

Adam is a man used to getting what he wants. And he wants Katelyn—naked and often. Willing to stop at nothing to possess her, he relentlessly peruses Kate only to discover that it is she who possesses him—completely.
Kate quickly realizes that Adam has secrets of his own, secrets dark enough to break the walls she keeps so firmly in place. 

Passion turns to possession, and Adam’s controlling nature and seductive hands sparks a desire so strong, it destroys her own demons. But when desire turns to addiction, Kate fears that it will rage too hot, and shatter her sanity. 


SUMMER DANIELS: Summer's Journey 
Blurb:

Come join me on my journey and find out why!

Fortyish, newly divorced, searching and longing for something different. Something fulfilling and exciting, somewhere far outside my ordinary comfort zone.

Come with me on my journey of discovery. Explore with me. Touch, taste and feel with me.

Lots more to come following my introduction to you in this first volume of a multi-part True Romance / Erotica series.

A few tantalizing excerpts:
Sorting through emails, unsolicited pictures and more than a few threesome invites, I really had no idea what I was looking for.  It became something of a process of elimination, because I certainly knew what I wasn’t looking for.
It became apparent quickly that finding the right combination of intelligence, humor, personality and charisma was going to be like the proverbial needle in a haystack.  Out of several hundred responses (who knew there were that many horny men out there?), only a few warranted a return email.  Perhaps I was being picky, but I really didn’t think being able to spell orgasm without being spotted a vowel was asking too much.
****************************************
Arriving at the hotel a few minutes before 8:00pm, I quickly checked my makeup in the rearview mirror before getting out of the car.  I barely recognized the eyes looking back at me.  Slightly dilated and wild, they seemed to be projecting my inner anxiety and excitement.
Walking straight through the elegant lobby towards the bank of elevators, I smiled as I turned a few heads, including the stuffy looking clerk behind the front desk.  Taking the elevator up to the eleventh floor, I walked down the hall and found room 1147 at the very end.
There was a black lace blindfold hanging off the doorknob.  I must admit that right up until that very moment this had all seemed like more fantasy than reality.  I stood there for a moment holding the blindfold in my hands.  There was a small part of me that still felt like I should simply turn around and walk away.  There was a much bigger part of me that was ready for something new and different in my life.
I slipped the blindfold over my eyes, took a deep breath and knocked twice on the door.  I heard it open and Mark’s warm voice filled my ears.  “Come in, Summer.  I am so happy you chose to join me tonight.”  He led me into the center of the room and stopped.  “If you would please, just stand there for a moment while I feast my eyes.  You look absolutely stunning!  That lovely dress is going to look very stylish on the floor next to the bed.”
****************************************

Raising my glass to his, I stared into his eyes.  “I was quite nervous about this evening, right up until the moment my dress hit the floor and you gasped out loud.  You have a way about you that puts me totally at ease.  You also managed to take me to heights of pleasure tonight that I have never felt before.  I know I have led a fairly sheltered life, but I honestly had no idea that sex could feel like that.  I’m not saying I am totally comfortable with entirely giving up control, but I am more than willing to continue on our journey and see where it leads us.”
His resulting smile seemed to radiate from his entire body and light up the room as I leaned forward to kiss him.
And last but not least:
LIZ CROWE: Floor Time 
(Stewart Realty Book 1)
blurb:

Jack Gordon is Ann Arbor's most delectable bachelor. At age thirty-five, he's made millions as a top-selling Ann Arbor real estate broker and has the right connections to close a deal by any means necessary. With his rugged good looks and compelling personality, he has a virtual black book most men would kill for and he uses it often, never settling for one woman for very long. 

While his D/s past remains buried, exactly where he wants it, an undercurrent of boredom and dissatisfaction runs through his life now. A disastrous experience years earlier made him swear off the whole scene, but the more Jack suppresses his natural Dom, the more his frustration grows. 

Sara Thornton, a rookie in the real estate game, has fast-tracked herself to the top of the Ann Arbor market. Her life reflects a disciplined and focused routine, exactly the way she wants it. However, as her career takes off, the fulfillment she seeks remains inexplicably out of reach. The one thing she knows for sure, she will not join the Jack Gordon groupies in her company, no matter how tempting that might seem. 

A chance encounter, then a difficult transaction, throw Jack and Sara together and the sparks fly high and hot and often. Forced to confront the compulsions that gain momentum with each sizzling encounter, their relationship seems to spiral out of control until Jack finally admits what he needs, and shows Sara what she's been missing.


excerpt:
“Ok, we finished the inspection and there are some issues, as you might expect.” Sara closed her eyes and prepared for an earful.              “I don’t doubt it.”
Jack seemed quieter than usual, not filling the phone line with his usual poor me, why can’t you control your peoplebullshit. Her suspicions grew, wondering if he was messing with her, trying to catch her off guard somehow.              “Well, um, I’ll get back with you, probably tonight, with our conditions for contingency removal.”            “That’s fine. By now I’m used to getting screamed at by her anyway.” A deep sigh filled Sara’s ears. “Let’s hold this one together, shall we,” he finally said. “I can’t take much more of this seller.”              “Fine, talk soon."  She hung up without letting him respond.            Sara put her hands on the steering wheel before starting her car, trying to control her shakes. Why did she let him get to her anyway? Hell, he was just a guy for crying out loud. All guys were complete assholes as far as she was concerned. 
Focus, Sara, focus.  You’ve been fine since Adam, no need to fall back into this game with anyone now, much less a guy like Jack.                                     
                                                                        Jack leaned back in his chair after she hung up on him once again. He stared up at the familiar ceiling of his office, sighed, and stretched his arms over his head. His mind drifted back, as it had so many times, to the moment he’d first laid eyes on Sara Jane Thornton. 
His assistant Jason stuck his head in the door, nearly making Jack dump himself backward onto the floor. His eyes sprung open erasing the image of Sara’s deep green gaze—and gorgeous tight ass—from his mind.                “Jack.” Jason fiddled with his earpiece. “She’s calling again—where are you this time?”            He groaned. “Fucking-A, why can’t the woman take a hint?”
He’d had gone a lot of years able to escape serious commitment. The one time he’d allowed himself that luxury he had got bitten on the ass so hard he’d been reluctant to sit much since. The fact that the ass-biter had been his first foray into a Dom/sub relationship had made her betrayal that much worse for his ego. Now, he’d miscalculated once again and had severely misread the blonde woman’s motives.            Jason shrugged, already taking the next call. He’d been Jack’s assistant for ten years, and was used to his boss’ love life. He’d proven himself invaluable more than once, deflecting one woman or another. Plus, he was a spot-on licensed assistant when it came to the business of real estate. Jack leaned into his keyboard, ignoring Jason again.  The young man waved a hand in front of his face.              “Dude, what the hell am I supposed to tell her?”            “Tell her I joined the Peace Corps, moved to Outer Mongolia and am unavailable for the next ten years. Christ, I don’t know. That’s why I hired you. Make some shit up.”            “I’m on it.” Jason turned and moved down the hallway towards his office, already making excuses.            Jason was worth his weight in salary. He’d come up with something. He always did. For about the millionth time that week, Jack wished he’d never, ever met the crazy blonde client. 
 Now, in the most perfect of ironies, thanks to Sara, he got to deal with her daily. Jack looked back at his computer screen. Images of Sara covered the monitor—from her real estate website and blog mostly. She had a real handle on using social networking, a pro at keeping fresh photos and testimonials from happy clients.
 Jack ran a hand through his hair. Never in his adult life had he felt so attracted to a woman who had no apparent interest in him beyond professional. Now he got stuck dealing with a crazed bitch of a seller he’d been trying to ditch, just so he could stay in contact with the woman he’d give anything to get the time of day from. An alien state of affairs for Jack—not one he liked much. His phone buzzed. 

Sara.
He smiled and answered, already planning his next move.

Across the Beer Bar with SUMMER DANIELS and WTRAFSOG

Liz: Welcome to my beer bar Summer! What can I pour for you to start?

Summer: Thank you Liz ... nice to be across the bar from you!  How about something light and sweet?  Do you have a "Summer" ale ...? 

Liz: Why, no dear. I don't have any ales. Just lagers. But I do have an amazing light lager, so here you go.

Now, tell us how this amazing phenomenon "What to Read After 50 Shades of Grey" got started.

Summer: What To Read After Fifty Shades of Grey (or WTRAFSOG for short) got started back in April of 2012 when I was trying to market my own Summer's Journey series.  I kept seeing more and more online discussion about how FSOG had drawn in a lot of new readers as well as reintroducing reading back into a lot of lives. 

Liz: I remember its early days and how excited I was to see Floor Time jumping onto the list and moving up (and, apparently, staying up). By taking this not insubstantial project on you are doing a LOT for a lot of other authors. Was that your goal?

Summer: It was indeed a goal from inception that I help promote other authors.  I truly believe that good Karma is cyclical in nature.  Do good for others and that good will return to you a hundred fold.  Eventually.  :-)
The initial idea of the Facebook page was really to help bring readers and authors together.  To promote my books and those of other deserving authors.  It did not take long before it really turned into so much more. 

Liz: And so it started basically as a Facebook page where we authors could promote. What happened that made you realize how much bigger it could be?

Summer: I think it was the sheer numbers.  The page continued to grow and grow - in all aspects ... more fans, more authors clamoring for promotion, and more books sold as a result of the posts on the page.  It started from very humble beginnings to the point where it was responsible for over 500 books sold a day - every day!  The interaction between the authors and readers has truly turned WTRAFSOG into a wonderful community that I'm proud to be a part of.

Liz: Whoops! Empty glass....what can I pour for you next.

How about a Honey Blonde ale?  Sweet and sassy. 

Liz: NO ALES (people, do your homework, sheesh). Here is a red lager. Trust me you will like it. I'm, like, theSummer: I have spent so much time nurturing WTRAFSOG in the past 2 years that I sometimes forget all about my own writing!  My Summer's Journey series is what I like to call true life Romance / Erotica.  It is a series that delves into what happens when I decided to give up being in control all the time and my sexual education that resulted from that decision.  It has been WAY too long since I've written Volume Four of the series and I have many fans asking repeatedly when the next part of the series will be released.  To a large extent, my stewardship of the WTRAFSOG community has put my own writing career on hold for much longer than I intended.  However, I have actually recently started a new book project that I'm pretty excited about, in addition to continuing the Summer's Journey series of course.  The new book has elements of romance, paranormal, religion and even a little sex thrown in there since I can't seem to stray too far from my roots.  I hope this new book will see light of day in Fall of this year.




Speaking of being excited about a new project, we would like to announce here for the first time - a WTRAFSOG Box Set, coming May 11th to an electron near you.
What To Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection - Part One is a box set that will feature 7 Best Sellers from our WTRAFSOG Top Fifty List.  
The Top Fifty list is compiled from over two years of actual sales data that results from reader recommendations and author promotions.
Authors included are Arianne Richmonde, Elaine Raco Chase, Liz Crowe, Joya Ryan, Kristine Cayne, CJ Roberts and Summer Daniels.
You may notice the "Part One" in the title.  That is no accident as there will be more WTRAFSOG branded box sets coming soon! 

Liz: I'm psyched to be in on this thing, I will tell you. I've learned a lot from the process of putting it together, including the best (and worst) ways to combine the creative and marketing powers of multiple authors for a common goal. What are some of the ways people can be in on the WTRAFSOG announcements?  

Summer: As I always like to say, help spread the legs.  Oops ... word.  Help spread the word.  :-)
For authors the best marketing will always be word of mouth advertising.  One reader mentions a good book, or hot new release in this case, to a friend, their reading group, their mailman, etc.  That person mentions it to two others, so on and so on.

As a relatively successful marketing maven - I have found that Karma I mentioned earlier to be the biggest factor.  Help spread the word for no other reason than helping your fellow authors and readers.  Good things happen when you embrace the community spirit.

Liz: Ok, so, a nightcap...what's your poison?

I have to confess to reading a few of your previous Across The Bar segments and after I dried the drool off my monitor (hot firefighter anyone?) I saw something about a Wolverine Ale of some sort?  That sounds about perfect.  Time to break out the claws and get sassy!
Liz: No. No Ales. No Ales. No. Ales. Lager….just lagers….never mind. Here, have this bourbon barrel aged dark Imperial. At 9% alcohol it's something we can share to celebrate the kick off of the PRE ORDER period for our What To Read After FSOG: Gemstone Collections Book 1!

Here are brief blurbs for each book:
Captive in the Dark by CJ Roberts—This New York Times Bestseller is the story of a young woman kidnapped and held hostage by a human trafficker out for revenge. Gritty, violent, and not for the faint of heart. 18+
Shades of Pearl by Arianne Richmonde— USA TODAY Bestselling novel. Just when Pearl has given up on love, sexy French billionaire Alexandre sweeps her off her feet with passion and intrigue. The catch? He’s fifteen years younger than she is. Ride this rollercoaster of sex, lies, heartache and love.
Double Occupancy by Elaine Raco Chase— Meet Casey Reynolds - she's not thin, petite, clueless, virginal or submissive - but she is a burned out Pulitzer-Prize winning reporter who ends up reluctantly sharing a borrowed villa with a handsome stranger. Provocative, explicit but so much fun!
Floor Time by Liz Crowe— Jack and Sara bring the SEXY to real estate. Two successful, independent and complex adults with plenty of baggage have a single clichéd hookup that changes their worlds forever. Expect to get hooked on this compelling couple and their series.

Deadly Obsession by Kristine Cayne— When movie-star Nic Lamoureux meets photographer Lauren James, the attraction is instant--and mutual, but his stalker makes it deadly clear Lauren is the competition. And the competition must be eliminated.
Break Me Slowly by Joya Ryan— Adam Kinkade is a man used to getting what he wants. And he wants Katelyn—naked and often. Willing to stop at nothing to possess her, he relentlessly pursues  Kate only to discover that it is she who possesses him—completely.
Summer's Journey, Vol. 1-4 by Summer Daniels— Join Summer on her journey of sexual self-discovery; a well written, intelligent and sexy series about the beginning of her sensual, sultry love affair with life, and all the joys of being a woman.

Pre order your copy HERE!
AMAZON
SMASHWORDS
iTUNES
KOBO

The B&N NOOK link will be available on release day May 11.
But….get your clicking going and grab this KILLER DEAL (7 novels in one for .99) Right. Now.

Oh, and HEY if you are a BLOGGER and want in on our RELEASE DAY BLITZ AND CONTEST Click here to sign up! 


cheers,Liz

Super Book Blast! Barbara Casey: The Coach's Wife

NOTE! Ms. Casey will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour.The Coach’s Wifeby Barbara Casey
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:Another deafening roar exploded from the coliseum, and when it did Marla threw down her partially smoked cigarette and ground it into the polished tile floor with the toe of her shoe. Quickly she reached for another cigarette from the opened pack in her small red handbag. She lit it, sucked the smoke into her mouth, held her breath, coughed, and then slowly released it. Marla didn't smoke, but when she paced up and down the hallways of basketball coliseums, puffing on cigarettes seemed appropriate. It gave her something to do with her hands, and it helped keep her sane.
Marla Connors, recently married to head basketball coach Neal Connors, travels with her husband to Albuquerque, New Mexico, where the Piedmont State University Coyote team is playing in the NCAA Finals. Marla has not been accepted by the Coyotes, that loyal bunch of fans who follows the university team, partly because she is almost twenty years younger than Coach Connors and a divorcée, but also because the fans are afraid she will distract her husband from his duties as head coach. They see her as someone who married Coach Connors just for his money. Only Gale, the older wife of assistant coach Stu Simmons, goes out of her way to be a friend to Marla.
The Coyote team is plagued with problems from the very beginning of the season, and when they finally manage to reach the NCAA Finals, it's even worse. Their center is caught using drugs, Athletics Director Charlie Morgan, who is also in Albuquerque for the games, makes a pass at Marla in her hotel room, and Coach Connors comes down with the flu. No one believes that State can win the big game.
With so much happening, Marla can't shake the feeling that something evil is taking over her life. She tries to convince herself that it is emotional anxiety left over from the abuse she experienced during her first marriage to Dr. Martin Andrews and that the stress from the tournament has brought it once again to the surface. She soon learns, however, that the evil is real and it threatens not only everything she loves, but her very life.
Illegal drugs, illicit affairs, murder, and scandal that shakes the entire university system are woven inextricably into Marla’s life until eventually she comes face to face with her real tormentor. It is only then that she realizes the full depth of her love for her husband--and his love for her.



EXCERPT:

Marla Connors wrapped her full-length, black mink coat tightly around her and sat back in the rich brocade chair--one of a matching pair--that faced the ivory damask sofa.  She had chosen this particular chair in the lobby because it allowed her full view of the front entrance of the hotel as well as the bank of brass-framed elevators located off to the right.  She watched a group of noisy Wolfpack supporters get off one of the elevators, all of them wearing red and white and carrying an assortment of pompoms, banners, and other displays of school spirit to wave during the basketball game.  Several other people, also Wolfpack fans who had waited to see if State would make it to the NCAA semifinals, were trying to check in at the hotel desk.
Even though Marla could easily see anyone coming into or leaving the lobby of the hotel through the massive glass doors, as well as anyone using the elevators, she for the most part was hidden from view by a tall palm and several smaller potted plants placed around the seating area.  And even if someone did notice her sitting there, no one would recognize her--not with the wig.  The shoulder-length blond hair and heavy makeup, as well as the coat, made her look older than her thirty-three years.
Another group of loud fans clamored out of an elevator.  Charlie Morgan, the new athletics director, and his assistant, Ray Knox, were among them as well as Stuart Simmons, one of the assistant coaches.  The Piedmont State University Wolfpack team was scheduled for the first game of the semifinals in the NCAA National Championship basketball playoffs, and many of the fans had already started drinking.  Their boisterous and obnoxious behavior was only a mild indication of what they would be like during and after the game.
He entered through the glass doors and stood for a moment in the sunlight that was scattered on the thick maroon carpet.  Tall, muscular, erect, his sixty-year-old body looked like a poster ad expounding the benefits of keeping in shape.  He had probably been doing a pre-game interview outside for one of the television networks.  His thick graying hair was slightly wind-blown giving him a boyish look, and he still had on the sweats he had worn to practice that morning.  Marla crossed her legs and when she did the coat opened slightly, exposing her bare leg and thigh.  She smoothed the blond hair with her hand and licked her lips.  Other than that, she made no movement.  He would see her.  He always did.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:


Originally from Carrollton, Illinois, author/agent Barbara Casey attended the University of North Carolina, N.C. State University, and N.C. Wesleyan College where she received a BA degree, summa cum laude, with a double major in English and history.  In 1978 she left her position as Director of Public Relations and Vice President of Development at North Carolina Wesleyan College to write full time and develop her own manuscript evaluation and editorial service.  In 1995 she established the Barbara Casey Agency and since that time has represented authors from the United States, Great Britain, and Japan.             Ms. Casey's two middle-grade/young adult novels, Leilani Zan and Grandma Jock and Christabelle (James C. Winston Publishing Co., Trade Division) were both nominated for awards of excellence by the SCBWI Golden Kite Award, the National Association of University Women Literary Award and the Sir Walter Raleigh Literary Award.  Shyla's Initiative (Crossquarter Publishing Group), a contemporary adult novel (occult romance/mystery), received the Independent Publisher Book Award and also an award of special literary recognition by the Palm Beach County Cultural Council.  The House of Kane (ArcheBooks Publishing) was considered for a Pulitzer nomination.  Another contemporary novel for adults, Just Like Family, received “Special Recognition from the 7-Eleven Corporation.”  Most recently, her young adult novel, The Cadence of Gypsies, was reviewed by the Smithsonian for its List of Most Notable Books. The Gospel According to Prissy, a novel for adults, has received excellent reviews and received an IPPY Award for Best Regional Fiction.  Warner Brothers Studio has also expressed interest. Newly released in paperback, The Coach's Wife (ArcheBooks Publishing), also a novel for adults (contemporary/mystery), was semi-finalist for the Dana Award for Outstanding Novel and listed on the Publisher’s Best Seller List. 
Her award-winning articles, short stories, and poetry for adults have appeared in both national and international publications including the North Carolina Christian Advocate Magazine, The New East Magazine, the Raleigh (N.C.) News and Observer, the Rocky Mount (N.C.) Sunday Telegram, Dog Fancy, ByLine, The Christian Record, Skirt! Magazine, and True Story.  A thirty-minute television special which Ms. Casey wrote and coordinated was broadcast on WRAL, Channel 5, in Raleigh, North Carolina.  She also received special recognition for her editorial work on the English translations of Albanian children’s stories.            Ms. Casey's award-winning science fiction short stories for adults are featured in The Cosmic Unicorn and CrossTime science fiction anthologies.  Ms. Casey's essays and other works appear in The Chrysalis Reader, the international literary journal of the Swedenborg Foundation, 221 One-Minute Monologues from Literature (Smith and Kraus Publishers), and A Cup of Comfort (Adams Media Corporation).            Ms. Casey is a former director of BookFest of the Palm Beaches, Florida, where she served as guest author and panelist.  She has served as judge for the Pathfinder Literary Awards in Palm Beach and Martin Counties, Florida, and was the Florida Regional Advisor for the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators from 1991 through 2003.  She is a frequent guest lecturer at universities and writers’ conferences around the country including the SCBWI Regional Conference, the Harriett Austin Writers Conference in Athens, SIBA (Southeastern Independent Book Sellers Association), Florida Writers Association, and the University of Auburn, Montgomery.  She makes her home on the top of a mountain near Trion, Georgia, with her husband and Benton, a hound-mix who adopted her.
www.barbaracaseyagency.com
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com
www.archebooks.com

The Serial Novel Continues….the Plot Heats Way Up!

Welcome back to the Liz Crowe serialized novel project: Wrong Place. Wrong Time.


Catch up here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 
   
Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

and now…..a new chapter…..NSFW…..or maybe "perfect" for work.



Alexa had been staring so long and hard at the unbelievable facts in front of her face her face burned and her head pounded.  She rubbed her eyes and blinked, trying to wipe the images out of them. But even after she closed her eyes and re-opened them, the horrifying information remained, if a little shimmery in the now completely dark room. Her skin prickled as she leaned in closer, forcing herself to absorb its utter unbelievability.

"Hey," a voice said so near her ear she jumped, yelped and knocked the lukewarm coffee cup to the floor of the computer room. 

"God damn…" she muttered, staring at the ugly brown stain spreading across the cream colored skirt she'd put on--when? Hours? Days ago? She had lost track of time, completely.

She smelled him then--Lucas' distinct outdoorsy scent filled her head, making her sway in her chair. His hand dropped onto her shoulder. He stood so close she could turn and be eye-to-crotch with the man…the young man…her assistant.  She gulped and pointed with a shaking finger to the computer screen.

"Uh, what do you make of that?"

He crouched over, placing both hands on the table. She tried so hard not to stare at the way his arms were displayed by the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt. But it made her dizzy all over again. She had no business…none…at all….

"Holy shit, Alexa," he whispered, looking over at her, his eyes full of dismay. "Is that…I mean…" He glanced up, reminding her that there was a giant one-way piece of glass to her left. She had forgotten to obsess over that and the fact that Jay was likely on the other side of it, watching her right now.

"Yeah," she said, keeping her face turned to him. "Don't let on you see it. He's out there, right?"

Lucas nodded, rearranged his face into neutral lines and jerked his chin ever so slightly towards the glass. "I passed right by him.  So…" He smiled then, a wicked grin that set off a flame in her chest. She put a hand to her face, cursing her barely disguised desire that he do exactly what he'd come in here to do.  He turned, slowly, crouching down in front of her, keeping his gaze pinned to hers. She stared, frozen in her seat, mesmerized by the rough look of his jawline, of his cheekbones, his shoulders and those arms. 

He tugged the seat closer, put his hands on her shaking knees and parted them, slipping between them, keeping that grin. He spoke with his teeth clenched.

"Relax. Make it look real or something. You have a pretty terrified expression on your face right now…" He kept smiling as he leaned in, letting his warm hands slid up her bare arms. She gulped, blinked, and generally felt like a prom night virgin seduced by the football team man whore. She shivered all over. "Alexa," he said, his lips near her ear, his torso hovering over her. "Calm down. Jay is watching…we have to--"

His voice flipped a switch in her that she fought for about a nanosecond. She leaned up, met him halfway and slanted her lips over his, cutting him off mid-sentence.  The surprised noise he made slid down an octave into his chest, which blew oxygen onto the lusty embers that his presence had sparked. He plunged his hands into her hair and she slid forward in the chair so she could feel him, every inch of him, against her. 

They were like a couple of teenagers, fumbling with clothes, tongues tangled and teeth clashing as they got to their feet together and Lucas turned her so she was propped against the work table. He had one hand still threaded in her hair, the other up her skirt, tugging at her panties. She gasped into his mouth, reached down to unzip him. Her brain was fuzzed over, the room was gone, all that existed was Lucas. And her lust which was screaming in her ears, deafening her, making her say things that shocked her.

"Oh dear god Lucas, I need…you. I need…oh…" she sighed as he teased her with that hand against her sex and ripped at her blouse with the other, yanking aside her bra and leaning in to suck her nipple into his mouth. She tilted her hips, giving him everything she had, no longer caring why they were doing this…this….thing in the middle of the huge room full of computer servers. 

He looked up from her breasts, his face red, his breathing ragged, his eyes full of something she refused to accept. It confused her, sent her conflicting messages. She needed him inside her, nothing more. She needed it so badly her emptiness was painful. He kept his fingers moving, rubbing fast, making her gasp and grab his arm and lean back as the orgasm rolled through her, darkening her vision. 

"Jesus, Alexa," Lucas said, his voice low and raspy. "That was…shit," he muttered, looking down at her hand on his now-exposed cock, then back up at her, his eyes full of raw lust. "I need to be inside you now," he said, low and sexy and perfect. "Turn around."  

She slid forward, put her hand to the back of his now sweaty neck and yanked him close, covering his lips with hers, revealing in him as he gripped her ass, pressed his erection against her. He broke away, tugging her skirt up and turning her. She could smell him, taste him still.  He slid into her, inch by glorious inch while she propped her hands on the work table right in front of the computer screen, his fingers digging into her hips. She groaned and arched her back, the sensation of finally having the connection with him almost--but not quite--forcing the fact that her company, Tate Lincoln, had been spying on Americans for the NSA for the last decade from the front of her mind. And that she had just discovered the deeply embedded links the revealed that very fact. The info was on the screen now, illuminating them as they put on a show for the man watching on the other side of the glass.




to…be…continued…..soon….



p.s. Floor Time, book one of the top selling STEWART REALTY SERIES is in the top 10 of the free Kindle store right now! Get your copy! See what all the fuss is about! 

A Fragile Perspective

Don't judge a person, the saying goes, until you have walked a mile in their shoes.

As an author, it is kind of my "job" to walk in other people's shoes.

I concoct people out of the ether, assign them names, personalities, quirks, body types, jobs, and homes. I am all up in their heads, puppet-mastering their every move, much less tromping around in their shoes. 

Sometimes I get my feet so firmly attached to the shoes of my fictional  characters I have a difficult time tossing them aside. This time last year I remember well. It was about the moment I relinquished my hold on my reality and dropped into a black hole. That black hole became a novel, Good Faith. One I am very proud of, and have spent a lot of time and energy and money trying to convince people to buy it and try it. 

It was a difficult story, one full of people with a lot of quirks and problems, including dangerous addictions to substances and activities. It also ended badly for a few people, people I really liked, whose heads and shoes I have occupied for the better part of five years now.

And I am finally figuring out why I am so clogged up, so to speak, now that it is time to move on and find a few new stories to tell.

I'm still wearing those shoes, still thinking in their heads, imagining what they would do or say in particular situations. No wonder writers were considered among the craziest of society's participants. Maybe we still are.

 Despite this novel's drama-filled release period. Despite the fact that this 225,000 word novel took me about ten weeks to write, then another 3 months to edit/revise/edit. Despite the fact that its release day, like the previous nineteen or so release days I have experienced started with the sun coming up and ended with the sun going down, nothing more. Despite the fact that I've more or less been giving it away for a dollar for weeks now just to try and capture a few more readers with it.

Despite all that, this novel is one I will be the proudest of no matter what happens to me or my future books. 

However, I am only just now, a year since I sat down and wrote the opening scene, able to slowly start letting the characters go.  Don't get me wrong. These particular characters are in 9 different books. The last novel however, I wrote as a stand alone OR as a final installment of a popular series. One of the characters (Jack Gordon, arguably the Liz Crowe male counter-personality) even had a near 600 "liked" fan page but I deleted it altogether last month.

I'm not so ego-centric to think that "no one understands how I feel." Any author, no matter how big, small, great or awful, LOVES their creations. We all get butt hurt when we see readers talking or swooning over or recommending characters NOT ours. 

But as part of what I like to think of as the Liz Crowe Author Professional Arc of Experience, I'm at a low point right now. The best word I can think of to describe it is "fragile."

 A good word, Fragile. 

It denotes and connotes a lot of personality or physical issues. I'm fairly robust in my physical self (too much so, some would argue) but I am finally coming to terms with why I seem to be going through an I HATE WRITING phase.

As authors we are advised (and I give this advice a lot too, sort of in the realm of "physician heal thyself") not to let our fragility show online. Don't bitch about your hard work, your lack of sales, others' successes relative to your failures. Don't cry, moan or otherwise kvetch about your shitty life choice. You wanted to "be an author." 

You were warned that succeeding at it, really truly succeeding in the block buster, multi movie deal, pulitzer prize winning way you dreamed of was about as likely as you winning the Super Mega Zillions Lottery off of a one dollar ticket. Talent and hard work aside, there are just too many others out there who are wiling to perhaps work just…that…much…harder than you. Or whose Karma Fairy is just better connected. 

But yet, you, I, we chose it. So we are not allowed to complain about it. Suck it up. Make more goals. Walk away from the writing and just leave it. But no, once you write, you cannot stop, in most cases. 

I'm not stopping, but I am going to pause a few days, and ponder why I should continue it. We all have these moments if we are honest with ourselves. And right now, my perspective on this whole write/edit/release/promote/promote/pay/promote/promote/promote and watch others do the same or less yet leapfrog you, is …. fragile. 


 Feeling out of control of your destiny in a difficult field is THE most frustrating thing ever--and I know that no matter if you are big time pubbed, small pubbed, self pubbed or pre-pubbed, that "out of control" feeling is one that is a constant companion.

I have a ton of projects in my head. More every day. And perhaps it is my current frustration in other ares of my life that are also intervening. Oh, and undergoing the sort of editing process that is more like a Master Writing Class Beat Down (as in "great work. go rewrite it completely now") probably isn't helping. But, at the same time, I know it is. Or that it will be. Someday.

But don't mind me.

I'm just feeling fragile. And I'm just peri-menepausal enough not to want to hear about going on walks, eating chocolate or just "taking a break." I want this god-awful, teary, frustrated "I can't write I suck" feeling to be GONE from me, completely. 

I have new characters' shoes to inhabit. They are just over there, waiting in my wings….

So this is me, signing off, staring at my Goals Board and giving myself a pep talk by writing about my feelings….don't judge me. My shoes are pretty darned uncomfortable.

Liz

Across the Beer Bar With….Oh, Sorry, You Were Saying Something, Hans?

I am thrilled and honored to have 2 very special guests at my beer bar today. Professional model and super nice guy Scott Nova and his almost-too-good-to-be-true-but-actually-very-awesome significant other, Lesley. I met these 2 at the RomFest down in Tennessee last year and we had such an amazing time I declared Scott my Official Stand In for Hans, the Liz Muse. He even came by Ann Arbor for the release weekend of GOOD FAITH!



Without another second to keep you waiting, let's get started….

Liz: Welcome to my beer bar Scott and Lesley, what can I pour for each of you to start? Lesley: We’re thrilled to be here, Liz, we don’t get out much so thanks for the invite!  Ok, if I must drink, I’m a wuss, give me something light.Scott: Well, I really liked your Wolverine Dark Lager when I tried it in your hotel room ;)Lesley: /sideways look….Oh wait, I was there too ;)Liz: Well played kids.



Liz: We met as you might expect at a romance writer's convention. I know you do a ton conventions like it Scott so I gotta ask, how does it feel (really now, be honest) to be so objectified at those things? Scott: At times, it’s a little much to take in...and some ladies get a little (sometimes a lot) handsie but I also know that a LOT of them really look up to their authors and the heroes that the authors depict on their covers. With that said, in the end, it’s pretty cool all at the same time. Especially for me, the ex-skinny kid who was bullied majorly in high school. I’m also a big softy at heart, so if I can make some fans happy by taking nice photos and conversation, then I’m all for it. It’s also incredibly ego boosting too. So you’ll never hear me complain lol



Liz: You guys are professional health nuts, right? I mean, it's all about the right foods and whatnot. Have you always been that way?Lesley: Not in this capacity, no.  When Scott went into the fire academy six years ago he noticed the perks of being able to lift heavy things so he rededicate himself to the gym.  I was a dancer in my past life and was doing a Caberet in Columbus, Ohio three and a half years ago.  When I saw the...um...skimpy costumes, I decided I could stand to lose a few pounds.  Scott said I could come to the gym with him to lose some weight (cue romance spawned by the gym).  When you rush to the gym after work every day just to see your gym partner, it really pushes you to get into the gym!  Almost 4 years later, we’re still gym partners, or as it’s called in our circles, “swolemates”!Scott:  HAHA yes, we are definitely swolemates….there’s no doubt there. We’ve gone to the gym on Valentine’s Day, and Christmas Eve before. The lifestyle we have is just that, a lifestyle. It’s not even a 2nd thought for us to know that we will be cooking over the weekend to make sure we have the proper foods, in the right quantities and all packed ready for the week. We don’t premake dinners, Lesley cooks those fresh each night and we sit down as a family and eat. Sometimes we have my son, Jacob, and so we all make sure we sit down and eat together. And no, I wasn’t always like this, I used to THINK I knew what was good eating for bodybuilding, but only in the last two years have I really learned. I’ve honed in my body, and made it as much a granite statue as I can. Liz: Ponders "Granite Statue" for about a half second too long….



Liz: Scott did I dream this (sideways glance at the reader) or did I see that you have applied to be a firefighter? I thought the whole "IT geek with a smoking hot body" thing was working pretty well for you. Are you seeking this career change for a reason or is something you've always wanted to do?Scott: Well, IT was great...for a time. But there quickly became a very large hole in my life. I don’t play well in the corporate world. I’m an alpha male...no need to cover that up. Anyone who really knows me, will know that. It’s not little man syndrome, I’m not little. I just say it as it is, back up what I say, and stand behind what I’ve said and done. And that ISN’T how most companies or corporations work. It’s all about lying and being shady and I don’t do that. I also get looked down on BECAUSE of my lifestyle choices with bodybuliding and diet. More than once, I get accused of being anti-social because I didn’t go to lunch with the team. Not my fault those guys go to Five Guys Burgers three times a week. I also always felt something was missing...I was blessed with a mindset of not panicking whenever something happens. I MAKE results happen, I don’t wait for someone else to take charge. I also was blessed with very strong shoulders, and a strong back, and all things you need to be a good firefighter. So, nope, you were correct, I recently applied for a firefighter position and interviewed….Keeping the fingers crossed.
Liz: Oh, we will, make no mistake about THAT!




Liz: Whoops! empty glasses. What can I get for you next?Lesley: What now?  A second round?  Good thing Scott is driving home.Scott: Oh hell, why not...keep the Lager coming. Liz: I'll get you kids trained up properly in no time….oh, sorry, watch that hand….





Liz: Lesley you are lucky that you are so nice because frankly, "bikini model with hot cover model fiance" is not usually a description that cries out "New Liz Friend." However, I have to tell you that you charmed the group at the convention just as much as the hunky guy over there. Do you usually attend those with him? Is it...weird to have all these writer ladies with active sex imaginations glomming all over your man? be honest....Lesley:  Haha, I think that’s a compliment so I’ll take it!  I have gone to a day-con or two with him before; met a few authors, helped Scott with some swag.  But RomFest in Gatlinburg last year was the first time that I was able to really hang out with you authors and get to know you all as friends!  If and when it works into our schedules and makes sense for me to come, I enjoy the conventions just as much as the next girl.  I don’t find it weird at all!  First and foremost, I’m his number one fan (sorry ladies, think that you are all you want, but it’s me) so I have just as much fun watching him parade around as everyone else.  I just truly enjoy watching him in his element and having so much fun, because it’s true, he LOVES doing this.  Active imaginations you say?  I’m just a young pup, I’ll gladly take any pointers you women have!
Liz: Yes, you are his Number One Fan without a doubt. Because frankly, for most of us, we prefer not to wash his socks or any of that other mundane crap. We have enough of that in our lives. We'll just keep him tucked away in our fantasy corner….BUT, should you require advice my dear, well, I'm guessing we could arrange a lengthy demonstration.



Liz: Tell us a little about your journey into your current life as professional model. If I remember correctly it's a cool story. Is it how you guys met?Scott: Well, I got interested in modeling in college...but didn’t do anything with it until Cindy Walker recruited me for the RT-LA for Mr. Romance and the rest is history. The rest of my modeling is up and coming because my body is getting bigger and more muscular and that IS what folks pay for. Lesley: No, no, no, I am NOT a model.  I’ve been a prop for him once or twice, but that’s all.  You can see me on stage in a bikini, but you probably won’t see me in front of a lens!



Liz: Scott, what are your goals for Life as Cover Model? To be the next Fabio or that Jimmy whatshisname? (you're cuter, just saying--again that whole "nice guy, hot bod, lovely face, computer geek" thing is just titillating).  Tell us an embarrassing story about Life as Male Cover Model---come on, give it up. How about your favorite cover so far?Scott: Well, I don’t want to copy another model that has been very successful, but I’ll kind of take cues from them and try to avoid some of the pitfalls that they have had at times.  Ultimately, I’m taking my own path. When those two guys were coming up the ranks, doing their thing, they had very little competition compared to today’s guys. With the internet and social media, every guy with a set of abs calls himself a cover model before even getting a cover; or maybe one cover that they “gave” away to an indie-author. So my goal is to be a very fun filled cover model that can help authors promote their products and also become a regular name when cover models are discussed. I know that I won’t be everyone's favorite, that’s impossible, so I try to make sure that I reach as many folks as I can. Embarrassing moment in cover modeling eh? Well, there was this one time that I had to wear a Hans outfit at this brewery...GAWD that was rough. LOL *wink* But no, really...embarrassing I don’t really have one. Really I don’t...I’m pretty easy going, and it takes a lot to embarrass me.  Plus, I generally know what I’m getting myself into in each situation.

Liz: Guys, it's getting late so let's share a nightcap...what can I get you do NOT say "water because our bodies are a temple that cannot be sullied" or I will be forced to smack your heads together.  One last question: when is the Big Day? Lesley: Oh dear Lord, no more please!  I’m such a light weight!Scott: Well, I DO have to drive tonight, so, maybe just a half glass!!


Lesley: Big day?  Err...umm….what day are you airing this interview?  Because we kind of sort of eloped on April 2nd :)Scott: Yep, I put a ring on it, and then put another one on it on April 2nd.

Liz: woo hoo!!! Congrats! Ok, now he's really hitched ladies so sheathe your claws…..but he is "Hans" so I get to talk to (argue with) him daily!

Lesley:  Things came up, life throws you curveballs, and so, we took the day off work, we snuck off to the courthouse, just the two of us, and got hitched!

Liz: and if THAT is NOT the fodder for a novel, well, you guys are getting lazy out there….


Thanks for coming by Scott and Lesley. Enjoy married life…and remember, that skills demonstration is just a phone call away….