Liz Crowe's Blog, page 6
May 19, 2015
A Tale of Four Covers--The Photography Post
Greetings Liz Fans Plus All The Rest Of You.
It's the 3rd Tuesday of May. Mad Man is over. The Voice is almost over (go JOSHUA DAVIS!). Game Of Thrones jumped one too many sharks on the rape-o-meter. I went to bed last night sweaty with windows open and fans on and awoke huddled under covers with the heat on. Pure Michigan.
Recently, I got to spend some quality time with a very talented local photographer and graphic/cover artist, Lindee Robinson as we prepare to re-boot the 3-book BLACK JACK GENTLEMEN series, that will have a fourth book to go along with this compelling set of novels set in the fictional world of a Detroit Pro soccer team.
The thing about "cover art" as an indie author (and even as an author with small publishers) is ... it's harder than you might think to get the image you want dragged out of your mind into some kind of physical iteration. I've been lucky in that most of the artists I've worked with are excellent at transferring my concepts to reality. But I almost always have a firm idea of exactly what I want by the time I'm working with an artist.
What I don't like? Meeting MY cover at the party with someone else's name and title on it. That happens a fair bit as there are a finite number of stock images out there--a couple of dudes are so pretty and compelling they've been everything from the latest hot vampire to a hometown football coach.
What I'm doing about it: when I can justify it/find someone willing to work with me and my pickiness I go for custom covers. I have several already. The publisher of the Black Jacks (Tri Destiny) did custom photos for both Essence of Time and Good Faith and those are 2 amazingly compelling covers. I did an entire photo shoot with one of my favorite models and part-time Hans the Muse Scott Nova for The Love Brothers and thanks to Taria Reed (photography) and Fiona Jade (cover artist/trailer genius) they really look great.
Oh Hans, you really wore me out this week, naughty, naughty boy....
While at the Detroit Indie Author Mashup I overheard Lindee giving a cover art pitch to the author next to me and snagged her, wondering if she'd be willing to help me rebrand this series via photos/new covers.
Not only was she, she found a couple of locally-based models for it.
Hence....The Black Jack Gentlemen: The Photo Shoot was born!
I hate it when the girl nutmegs me....
We had a blast and are picking through the many gorgeous shots Lindee got so she can put together 3 PLUS 1 covers and some fun promotional graphics for our big reveal.
"With my left leg?"
Overheard: "positioning my Barbie dolls!"
Garrett Thierry and Nichole Kathren are too much fun for words! They are currently locally based models (he's also an actor) but are headed west soon. So I can say someday that super famous actor in that blockbuster movie graces the covers of my books!
overheard: "Is shirtless within your boundries?"
Lindee gives Garrett a method acting refresher....
Any blogger interested in participating in the cover reveal/new release fun--just click here.
Overheard: "Go pump up. It's shirtless time."
Shpritzing for sweat....
Overheard: "Here just pull this down a little."
THE BLACK JACK GENTLEMEN: THE SOCCER TEAM OF DETROIT
All new covers for Man On, Red Card, Shut Out and coming JULY 7 ---- HAT TRICK!
Overheard: "Say no to Man Nip Book Covers!"
AUTHORS: be sure to check out Lindee Robinson Photography especially if you want to participate in a Detroit-area shoot. She's Capital A-AWESOME! It was such a blast to have a PURE MICHIGAN photo shoot for a series that is also exactly that!
Can we do this on Amazon? Better check....
RANDOM LIZ UPDATES:
I have the oldest Wenchling hovering about, in between days as it were which is all fine but for the fact that I forget how many more groceries are required when provisioning the Crowe's Nest when he's in house. Plus we have reduced our housing footprint and in lieu of the Massive Overhaul of said footprint, are piece-mealing the process. I.e. the place is in vintage condition and we are upgrading as needs/funds arise.
Future Lady Engineer Wenchling is still on walkabout in Wales. Last I heard she was alive. But that's about all I know.
S.W. has hit "finals week dread build up panic" that we know comes twice a year but that wallops us all upside the head with a cup of cold coffee and a crying jag every time. Hopefully we will get the whole "playing soccer in college" thing sorted by the time her Senior year starts--but we may not. It's a crappy process. I hate it. But hopefully it will yield good for all concerned, especially for the lucky coach that finally appreciates her value.
Make it a great Memorial Day Weekend. I'll be undergoing the Great Cardboard Purge of 2015 and ignoring that it's the so-sad anniversary of my biggest WTF moment ever---> while at the same time glad to be well over it enough to start my memoir: Headache Pay--A BeerWench Tells All.
p.s. JK
p.p.s. Nope
p.p.p.s. Not at all.
It's the 3rd Tuesday of May. Mad Man is over. The Voice is almost over (go JOSHUA DAVIS!). Game Of Thrones jumped one too many sharks on the rape-o-meter. I went to bed last night sweaty with windows open and fans on and awoke huddled under covers with the heat on. Pure Michigan.
Recently, I got to spend some quality time with a very talented local photographer and graphic/cover artist, Lindee Robinson as we prepare to re-boot the 3-book BLACK JACK GENTLEMEN series, that will have a fourth book to go along with this compelling set of novels set in the fictional world of a Detroit Pro soccer team.
The thing about "cover art" as an indie author (and even as an author with small publishers) is ... it's harder than you might think to get the image you want dragged out of your mind into some kind of physical iteration. I've been lucky in that most of the artists I've worked with are excellent at transferring my concepts to reality. But I almost always have a firm idea of exactly what I want by the time I'm working with an artist. What I don't like? Meeting MY cover at the party with someone else's name and title on it. That happens a fair bit as there are a finite number of stock images out there--a couple of dudes are so pretty and compelling they've been everything from the latest hot vampire to a hometown football coach.
What I'm doing about it: when I can justify it/find someone willing to work with me and my pickiness I go for custom covers. I have several already. The publisher of the Black Jacks (Tri Destiny) did custom photos for both Essence of Time and Good Faith and those are 2 amazingly compelling covers. I did an entire photo shoot with one of my favorite models and part-time Hans the Muse Scott Nova for The Love Brothers and thanks to Taria Reed (photography) and Fiona Jade (cover artist/trailer genius) they really look great.
Oh Hans, you really wore me out this week, naughty, naughty boy....While at the Detroit Indie Author Mashup I overheard Lindee giving a cover art pitch to the author next to me and snagged her, wondering if she'd be willing to help me rebrand this series via photos/new covers.
Not only was she, she found a couple of locally-based models for it.
Hence....The Black Jack Gentlemen: The Photo Shoot was born!
I hate it when the girl nutmegs me....
We had a blast and are picking through the many gorgeous shots Lindee got so she can put together 3 PLUS 1 covers and some fun promotional graphics for our big reveal.
"With my left leg?"
Overheard: "positioning my Barbie dolls!"Garrett Thierry and Nichole Kathren are too much fun for words! They are currently locally based models (he's also an actor) but are headed west soon. So I can say someday that super famous actor in that blockbuster movie graces the covers of my books!
overheard: "Is shirtless within your boundries?"
Lindee gives Garrett a method acting refresher....
Any blogger interested in participating in the cover reveal/new release fun--just click here.
Overheard: "Go pump up. It's shirtless time."
Shpritzing for sweat....
Overheard: "Here just pull this down a little."THE BLACK JACK GENTLEMEN: THE SOCCER TEAM OF DETROIT
All new covers for Man On, Red Card, Shut Out and coming JULY 7 ---- HAT TRICK!
Overheard: "Say no to Man Nip Book Covers!"AUTHORS: be sure to check out Lindee Robinson Photography especially if you want to participate in a Detroit-area shoot. She's Capital A-AWESOME! It was such a blast to have a PURE MICHIGAN photo shoot for a series that is also exactly that!
Can we do this on Amazon? Better check....RANDOM LIZ UPDATES:
I have the oldest Wenchling hovering about, in between days as it were which is all fine but for the fact that I forget how many more groceries are required when provisioning the Crowe's Nest when he's in house. Plus we have reduced our housing footprint and in lieu of the Massive Overhaul of said footprint, are piece-mealing the process. I.e. the place is in vintage condition and we are upgrading as needs/funds arise.
Future Lady Engineer Wenchling is still on walkabout in Wales. Last I heard she was alive. But that's about all I know.
S.W. has hit "finals week dread build up panic" that we know comes twice a year but that wallops us all upside the head with a cup of cold coffee and a crying jag every time. Hopefully we will get the whole "playing soccer in college" thing sorted by the time her Senior year starts--but we may not. It's a crappy process. I hate it. But hopefully it will yield good for all concerned, especially for the lucky coach that finally appreciates her value.
Make it a great Memorial Day Weekend. I'll be undergoing the Great Cardboard Purge of 2015 and ignoring that it's the so-sad anniversary of my biggest WTF moment ever---> while at the same time glad to be well over it enough to start my memoir: Headache Pay--A BeerWench Tells All.
p.s. JK
p.p.s. Nope
p.p.p.s. Not at all.
May 15, 2015
An Unconventional Friday--the Contest Post
Welcome to the TGIF post in which you will learn how you can win a pack 'o prizes in exchange for finding a new favorite book.No, really, it's that simple.
I'm Liz and I write Unconventional Romance. Worth the Risk. Allow me to offer you a chance to check out one of my books, write a review and be entered to win some cool sh*t!
Oh and if you keep on scrollin' you'll discover something SMOKING HOT and NEW from me.....
STARTING TODAY!
Every time I get 30 NEW reviews on ANY Liz book I'll give away a surprise prize pack to one lucky NEW reviewer/Liz Crowe fan.
Prizes include:
Signed book copies
Gift Cards
EXTRA Scenes uploaded for everyone to read
NEW SCENES from a Love Brothers book
And so much more!
How do you enter?
Simple.
1. Pick a Liz Book. I've got several.
2. Post your NEW review on Amazon and Goodreads.
3. Click here and fill out the form that appears.
Baseline numbers of reviews have been recorded. I'll be keeping a close eye on any new reviews posted. Once we hit the magic number on ANY BOOK, I'll pick a winner and announce on the Liz Crowe Facebook Fan Page ("like" it and make sure you hit the "receive notifications" using the drop-down menu below the large cover photo right now or you risk not getting notified if you win!) If more than one book gets 30 new reviews between now & July 10 I'll keep giving away prizes! No cheating. Your new review must be that: "new" and not a copy of someone else's. I promise you'll enjoy your Liz Crowe reading experience.
IF YOU ARE A LOYAL LIZ FAN AND HAVE ALREADY POSTED REVIEWS PLEASE HEAD OVER TO MY FACEBOOK CHAT GROUP. Just ask to join if you're not already a member. I have NOT forgotten about you! There is a pinned post at the top with YOUR special instructions.
BOTH contests (for new fans and for all you wonderful and amazing existing ones) will run through July 10, 2015.
Check me out. I'll make it worth your while.
(don't stop reading....the HOTNESS is below this little handy informational set of links)In the interest of making it super easy for you to find, procure, read and review your LIZ BOOK, here are handy-dandy links:
NOTE: You don't have to read an entire series to post a review of one book (but you will get hooked on them, guaranteed).
NOTE: Some of these books are FREE and/or WAY CHEAP right now.
NOTE: All the links take you to Amazon but every book except The Love Brothers series is available on B&N/Smashwords and some on Kobo and Ibooks.
BOOKS IN SERIES:
The Love Brothers (3.5 books)
Stewart Realty (8.5 books)
Black Jack Gentlemen (3 books)
Turkish Delights (5 books--some are very short)
STAND ALONES
Vegas Miracle (newly re-released)
Paradise Hops
Honey Red
Cheeky Blonde
Caught Offside
Healing Hearts
And now.....for your reward (as if me giving you prizes for posting new reviews isn't enough!) some Liz "Quick Words" (i.e. they are Unedited and fresh from my fevered imagination and over-eager Muse) from FireBrew, an upcoming release as part of a kick ass bundle of BRAND NEW BOOKS from some of your favorite, best selling authors! I've never tried a "fire fighter story" so I put my Liz spin on it and it's gonna rock your world (kind of like George Lattimer III will do)!
NSFW/Over 18 only/rated XX this is your only warning!
From: "FireBrew," The Liz Style Firefighter Romance, coming soon
All rights reserved.
I made it all the way down to the bathroom and back into my slinky seductress dress and heels before he honored me with his presence. He loomed in the doorway, shirt still unbuttoned, pondering me with a flat expression. “Excuse me,” I said, shouldering past him. He took my hand but I pulled it free. “I’m not in the mood anymore, George. But thanks anyway.”“Listen to me a minute, will you?”“Why?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m here to get laid, get my world rocked, snap off a piece.” I snapped my fingers, which made him flinch. “I don’t want to marry you. Hell you don’t even have to make me coffee in the morning. I’d be gone before you wake up. I’m like, your god damned dream date.” I passed my hands over my breasts to my waist. Watching his eyes darken, I lifted my skirt and put a finger to my uncovered, still damp, sex. “I like to fuck. Something wrong with that?”For some odd reason, a tear slipped down my cheek. I swiped it away, dropped my skirt and headed for the stairs. “I don’t have to beg for it though, doll. I know when I’ve worn out my welcome.” As my foot touched the first step, he tugged me back, turned me and held me close, pressing his lips to my hair and forcing more stupid tears from my burning hot eyes. The smoke smell soothed me, then pissed me off. I struggled out of his embrace and stared up at him. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, letting me run my thumb over his full lower lip. “And you haven’t worn out your welcome. I’m..I’m just…” He stopped and moved back from me, hands on his hips. “Stop trying so hard, god damn it.” I laughed but was not really amused. “Hard? Oh honey, I don’t have to try at all. That’s why I’m leaving. I don’t need this drama or whatever the fuck it is you’re slinging. I’ll email you the sales agreement. Sign it and agree to his closing date and we’re done.” My heart was whamming against my ribcage, hurting me in way I’d never experienced. “Are we?” He stepped in front of me as I tried to head upstairs. “Are we really?”His kiss shut out everything even the rising fury at his behavior. I felt…consumed by it, held close, protected, and at the same time more turned on than ever. Fumbling and unwilling to take no for an answer, I unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, gripping his length and drawing a sigh from him against my mouth. Dropping to my knees, I took him into my mouth as deep as possible—I have a decent skill set in this area—but found myself actually enjoying it, cupping his balls, with one hand and moaning when he buried his fingers in his my hair. “Stop. Wait,” he said, loudly and obviously not meaning it. I rose, swiped my lips with the back of my hand and pushed him so he dropped onto the bed. His eyes seemed almost haunted, as he watched me drop to the floor again and resume my position. His hips moved, up, shoving more into my mouth, gagging me a little but at that moment, all I wanted was one thing. I pulled out all the stops. The light scrapes of my short fingernails along his balls, the stealthy finger tip towards his ass. My body was on high alert and I thought I might very well join him I was so intent on this mission towards a single goal. Which I achieved within a few minutes. His roar of satisfaction made me shiver all over as I swallowed, then sat back on my heels, admiring everything about him from his broad shoulders, closed eyes, and long, wet dick still pulsing and twitching from my efforts. I got up, towering over him in a way that seemed strange to me. He opened his eyes, then narrowed them when I smiled. “Now we’re done.” I snagged a tissue from a box at his bedside, touched it to my lips and tossed it onto his heaving chest. “I’m a giver, don’t you ever deny it. Watch your email George and thanks for the interesting times this week. Have a nice life.” Not giving him a chance to reply, I ran up the stairs to the deck, swallowed my urge to panic, and climbed up onto the dock.After sending a quick text to a cab company I trusted, I leaned against his SUV, shaking and bawling like a baby, willing him to come out here and take me back inside while at the same time, praying he would not. He didn’t.
May 13, 2015
Permanent Spring Showers--A Book Tour
Permanent Spring Showersby Scott D. Southard
BLURB:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
“What are you thinking? She’s an escort!”
“I’m in love, Steve. After sitting through the first twenty minutes of this lunch, it’s obvious you certainly still remember what that feeling is like.” He pushed his plate forward.
"But Clark…” I began.
He interrupted, “And it’s not like she wants to do that her entire life, Steve, if that is what is troubling you. She is doing it to pay for college.” I stopped, the car of my mind shifting gears again. “Wait, did you say ‘is’? Do you mean she is still doing it?”
“Well, times are tough all over,” Clark replied far too calmly for my taste. “Have you seen college tuition rates this year?”
“And she’s really in college?” I asked, shocked. I began to wonder if I was on one of those TV shows and a camera was hidden in a bush nearby me.
My shock was perfectly mirrored by the opposite reflection of the casualness of my brother.
“You didn’t think I would marry an idiot did you, Steve? I need to be mentally challenged, you know that. She is studying education; her dream’s to teach third graders.”
“You’re engaged to a hooker…”
“Escort,” he corrected quickly for a third time.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said sarcastically. “You are engaged to an active escort who wants to be an elementary school teacher?”
“Yes,” Clark said with a dramatic point across the table at me. “And Steve, this is where you come in. You need to help me introduce her to mom and dad.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Scott D. Southard is the author of A Jane Austen Daydream, Maximilian Standforth and the Case of the Dangerous Dare, My Problem With Doors, Megan, 3 Days in Rome and Me Stuff in addition to his latest release, Permanent Spring Showers. His eclectic writing has also found its way into radio, as Scott was the creator of the radio comedy series The Dante Experience. The production was honored with the Golden Headset Award for Best MultiCast Audio and the Silver Ogle Award for Best Fantasy Audio Production. Scott received his Master's in writing from the University of Southern California. Scott can be found on the internet via his writing blog “The Musings & Artful Blunders of Scott D. Southard" where he writes on topics ranging from writing, art, books, TV, writing, parenting, life, movies, and writing. He even shares original fiction on the site. His blog can be found at http://sdsouthard.com. Scott is also the fiction book reviewer for WKAR's daily radio show Current State.
http://www.amazon.com/Permanent-Spring-Showers-Scott-Southard-ebook/dp/B00T74HH0Qhttps://itunes.apple.com/us/book/permanent-spring-showers/id964243135?mt=11http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/512831http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/permanent-spring-showers-scott-d-southard/1121151697?~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scott D. Southard will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
RAFFLECOPTER CODE:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
BLURB:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
“What are you thinking? She’s an escort!”
“I’m in love, Steve. After sitting through the first twenty minutes of this lunch, it’s obvious you certainly still remember what that feeling is like.” He pushed his plate forward.
"But Clark…” I began.
He interrupted, “And it’s not like she wants to do that her entire life, Steve, if that is what is troubling you. She is doing it to pay for college.” I stopped, the car of my mind shifting gears again. “Wait, did you say ‘is’? Do you mean she is still doing it?”
“Well, times are tough all over,” Clark replied far too calmly for my taste. “Have you seen college tuition rates this year?”
“And she’s really in college?” I asked, shocked. I began to wonder if I was on one of those TV shows and a camera was hidden in a bush nearby me.
My shock was perfectly mirrored by the opposite reflection of the casualness of my brother.
“You didn’t think I would marry an idiot did you, Steve? I need to be mentally challenged, you know that. She is studying education; her dream’s to teach third graders.”
“You’re engaged to a hooker…”
“Escort,” he corrected quickly for a third time.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said sarcastically. “You are engaged to an active escort who wants to be an elementary school teacher?”
“Yes,” Clark said with a dramatic point across the table at me. “And Steve, this is where you come in. You need to help me introduce her to mom and dad.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Scott D. Southard is the author of A Jane Austen Daydream, Maximilian Standforth and the Case of the Dangerous Dare, My Problem With Doors, Megan, 3 Days in Rome and Me Stuff in addition to his latest release, Permanent Spring Showers. His eclectic writing has also found its way into radio, as Scott was the creator of the radio comedy series The Dante Experience. The production was honored with the Golden Headset Award for Best MultiCast Audio and the Silver Ogle Award for Best Fantasy Audio Production. Scott received his Master's in writing from the University of Southern California. Scott can be found on the internet via his writing blog “The Musings & Artful Blunders of Scott D. Southard" where he writes on topics ranging from writing, art, books, TV, writing, parenting, life, movies, and writing. He even shares original fiction on the site. His blog can be found at http://sdsouthard.com. Scott is also the fiction book reviewer for WKAR's daily radio show Current State.
http://www.amazon.com/Permanent-Spring-Showers-Scott-Southard-ebook/dp/B00T74HH0Qhttps://itunes.apple.com/us/book/permanent-spring-showers/id964243135?mt=11http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/512831http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/permanent-spring-showers-scott-d-southard/1121151697?~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Scott D. Southard will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
RAFFLECOPTER CODE:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
May 5, 2015
When Liz Goes NSFW She Makes It Count
Ah, "menage," shorthand in the romance universe for "menage a trois" which of course is French for "never in a million years but boy do I wish!"
I have stated my position on the actual fantasy v. reality aspect of this particular sub genre of the zillion dollar romance one and my believe is that it falls firmly and with a loud THUD in the "fantasy" column. But that has not stopped this writer from trying her naughty hand at it (in books, otherwise, well, I'd just be offering way TMI).
In my considered and somewhat carefully researched opinion, two men are simply not wired to share nicely when it comes to a woman, even if the two in question are just as happy doing each other as her. Most men are too competitive, made that way by natural selection or evolution or however you want to look at it.
But yet it--the glorious prospect of being a women cradled emotionally and physically between two lovely guys--remains one of the hottest (to my somewhat dirty mind) and many times most badly represented romance fantasy options out there. Beyond the physical logistics of the sex act, the emotional balancing act required to keep all corners of the triangular table steady would be beyond most normal human beings' reach.
In my erotic reading experience, menages represent the summit, the peak, the 26th mile of actual ability. If you can convince me, a raw unromantic cynic, that this would work, you have talent. Not many authors have but there are a few exceptions. When I wrote Vegas Miracle first, about 6 years ago, it was around the concept of the "sexy Las Vegas experience" of having a private massage in your penthouse suite by a man who turns out not to be a stranger. From there, it seemed natural that another man set the whole thing in motion by way of introduction.
The first scene I wrote, and to my mind is the BEST scene in a book full of them, ends this way.... Enjoy but take note that it is extremely explicit.
from Vegas Miracle
All Rights Reserved
Henri kneaded the flesh of her thigh before moving down to rub each toe, then the sole of her foot, which sent those same zinging, nerve rattling sensations straight up to the top her head. She stretched her hands over her head and allowed the blanket to fall away. Eyes closed, she reveled in the pure sensation of his touch. By the time he switched over to her other leg and placed her foot on his chest again, a low moaning sound had begun in in her throat and shehad to force herself not to grab him and pull him on top of her. He stretched her knee towards her chest. "You're very flexible, yes?" His hoarse voice gave away his feeling about this whole thing."Yes," she breathed, tilting her hips up to make contact with his arm.The last time he bent her knee,she felt his tongue flick her nipple. She realized he was pulling the sheet off her completely and she gave no resistance. Raising her arms up over her head again, Grace stretched like a cat in the windowsill. She heard him make a sound deep in his throat before he ran his strong hands from her shoulders down to her nipples and across her stomach. He stopped to knead her hips once more,then kept moving down her thighs to her calves and then to her sensitized feet. She arched up and gasped as she felt his tongue again, this time right on her clit. He teased her flesh, then sucked briefly,before standing up. Grace kept her eyes closed, her body was on fire, every nerve ending crying out for more. But he seemed to be done,so she struggled up to a seated position."Would you like a bit more? An internal massage, perhaps?""Yes," she nearly yelled out,then felt herself blush. “I mean…that’s sort of a lame line, though.”He chuckled. “I’ll work on my lines a little, after this.” His low, accented voice made her shiver.She finally got a good look at him as he pulled his silk boxers down to reveal his long, thick cock, just as she remembered from that fateful night at the party. She sat for a minute drinking him in as he brushed his shaggy, dark hair off his brow and put his hands on his hips. "Okay. I’ll let it slide this time," she whispered as she lay back down. How this could be happening to her, she had no idea, but Grace knew if she didn’t get this man inside her right now, she would scream. As he climbed up between her legs and slipped into her, she finally fully relaxed, clutching at his ass to pull him in further."Keep your hands up over your head like before," he demanded as he began to move. He leaned down to lick her neck and tug at her nipples while his hips rolled against her, giving her the most perfect contact. She laid back and let him work, feeling every inch of him.And when she came, she gasped at the sheer, sensual, forbidden beauty of it. She touched her own face and her fingers came away wet."May I come inside you," he asked, breathless.By way of answer, she repositioned her legs so her knees were up against his chest. She had to feel more and wanted to watch his face. He increased his tempo, his bronzed skin flushed in the candlelight. She sighed as she sensed his warmth explode inside her.When Henri bent down to kiss her lips and let his tongue caress hers a moment before he raised himself up and off her, she felt more wrong than she ever had, but somehow right at the same time. Pulling the blanket back up to cover her sated body,she stretched again and flipped over. When her eyes met Ryan’s across the room,she yelped. Her husband sat directly across from the massage table, a drink in one hand, the other arm stretched over the back of the couch. His eyes shone with the sort of light that made her want to weep."How long have you been sitting there," she demanded."Long enough, baby." He drained his glass, set it on the table and made his way over to her. "Long enough."She sighed as he knelt down, pulled her up and kissed her hard and deep. His bourbon-tasting lips were delicious.
"Did you like your Vegas surprise," he asked as he pulled her to sitting and wrapped his arms around her. But he pressed his mouth to hers before she could answer. The familiar strength of his body, the crisp feel of his dress shirt against her naked skin, the clean smell of his cologne, all enveloped her at once and she wrapped herself around him, ready to thank him in a way he’d never forget.
Yeah, so fair warning: if you are already a Liz Crowe fan this book will make you sweaty and need a cold shower. If you are NOT and this is your first time with me (I'll be gentle) note that this book represents the most "traditional" of my romance novels. I really love it and hope you will too.
It's ONLY $1.99 on all ebook retailing platforms TODAY! CLICK YOUR PREFERRED RETAILER BELOW!
AMAZONB&NSMASHWORDSITUNES
OH! And I'm running a little contest to celebrate. Join in and you could win a 6-month Kindle Unlimited Membership (among other things!)
CLICK HERE TO ENTER!
Liz's other Menage Fantasy novels include (click each title to read more):
Honey Red
Essence of Time
Lust on Tap
I have stated my position on the actual fantasy v. reality aspect of this particular sub genre of the zillion dollar romance one and my believe is that it falls firmly and with a loud THUD in the "fantasy" column. But that has not stopped this writer from trying her naughty hand at it (in books, otherwise, well, I'd just be offering way TMI).
In my considered and somewhat carefully researched opinion, two men are simply not wired to share nicely when it comes to a woman, even if the two in question are just as happy doing each other as her. Most men are too competitive, made that way by natural selection or evolution or however you want to look at it.
But yet it--the glorious prospect of being a women cradled emotionally and physically between two lovely guys--remains one of the hottest (to my somewhat dirty mind) and many times most badly represented romance fantasy options out there. Beyond the physical logistics of the sex act, the emotional balancing act required to keep all corners of the triangular table steady would be beyond most normal human beings' reach.
In my erotic reading experience, menages represent the summit, the peak, the 26th mile of actual ability. If you can convince me, a raw unromantic cynic, that this would work, you have talent. Not many authors have but there are a few exceptions. When I wrote Vegas Miracle first, about 6 years ago, it was around the concept of the "sexy Las Vegas experience" of having a private massage in your penthouse suite by a man who turns out not to be a stranger. From there, it seemed natural that another man set the whole thing in motion by way of introduction.
The first scene I wrote, and to my mind is the BEST scene in a book full of them, ends this way.... Enjoy but take note that it is extremely explicit.
from Vegas Miracle
All Rights Reserved
Henri kneaded the flesh of her thigh before moving down to rub each toe, then the sole of her foot, which sent those same zinging, nerve rattling sensations straight up to the top her head. She stretched her hands over her head and allowed the blanket to fall away. Eyes closed, she reveled in the pure sensation of his touch. By the time he switched over to her other leg and placed her foot on his chest again, a low moaning sound had begun in in her throat and shehad to force herself not to grab him and pull him on top of her. He stretched her knee towards her chest. "You're very flexible, yes?" His hoarse voice gave away his feeling about this whole thing."Yes," she breathed, tilting her hips up to make contact with his arm.The last time he bent her knee,she felt his tongue flick her nipple. She realized he was pulling the sheet off her completely and she gave no resistance. Raising her arms up over her head again, Grace stretched like a cat in the windowsill. She heard him make a sound deep in his throat before he ran his strong hands from her shoulders down to her nipples and across her stomach. He stopped to knead her hips once more,then kept moving down her thighs to her calves and then to her sensitized feet. She arched up and gasped as she felt his tongue again, this time right on her clit. He teased her flesh, then sucked briefly,before standing up. Grace kept her eyes closed, her body was on fire, every nerve ending crying out for more. But he seemed to be done,so she struggled up to a seated position."Would you like a bit more? An internal massage, perhaps?""Yes," she nearly yelled out,then felt herself blush. “I mean…that’s sort of a lame line, though.”He chuckled. “I’ll work on my lines a little, after this.” His low, accented voice made her shiver.She finally got a good look at him as he pulled his silk boxers down to reveal his long, thick cock, just as she remembered from that fateful night at the party. She sat for a minute drinking him in as he brushed his shaggy, dark hair off his brow and put his hands on his hips. "Okay. I’ll let it slide this time," she whispered as she lay back down. How this could be happening to her, she had no idea, but Grace knew if she didn’t get this man inside her right now, she would scream. As he climbed up between her legs and slipped into her, she finally fully relaxed, clutching at his ass to pull him in further."Keep your hands up over your head like before," he demanded as he began to move. He leaned down to lick her neck and tug at her nipples while his hips rolled against her, giving her the most perfect contact. She laid back and let him work, feeling every inch of him.And when she came, she gasped at the sheer, sensual, forbidden beauty of it. She touched her own face and her fingers came away wet."May I come inside you," he asked, breathless.By way of answer, she repositioned her legs so her knees were up against his chest. She had to feel more and wanted to watch his face. He increased his tempo, his bronzed skin flushed in the candlelight. She sighed as she sensed his warmth explode inside her.When Henri bent down to kiss her lips and let his tongue caress hers a moment before he raised himself up and off her, she felt more wrong than she ever had, but somehow right at the same time. Pulling the blanket back up to cover her sated body,she stretched again and flipped over. When her eyes met Ryan’s across the room,she yelped. Her husband sat directly across from the massage table, a drink in one hand, the other arm stretched over the back of the couch. His eyes shone with the sort of light that made her want to weep."How long have you been sitting there," she demanded."Long enough, baby." He drained his glass, set it on the table and made his way over to her. "Long enough."She sighed as he knelt down, pulled her up and kissed her hard and deep. His bourbon-tasting lips were delicious.
"Did you like your Vegas surprise," he asked as he pulled her to sitting and wrapped his arms around her. But he pressed his mouth to hers before she could answer. The familiar strength of his body, the crisp feel of his dress shirt against her naked skin, the clean smell of his cologne, all enveloped her at once and she wrapped herself around him, ready to thank him in a way he’d never forget.
Yeah, so fair warning: if you are already a Liz Crowe fan this book will make you sweaty and need a cold shower. If you are NOT and this is your first time with me (I'll be gentle) note that this book represents the most "traditional" of my romance novels. I really love it and hope you will too.
It's ONLY $1.99 on all ebook retailing platforms TODAY! CLICK YOUR PREFERRED RETAILER BELOW!
AMAZONB&NSMASHWORDSITUNES
OH! And I'm running a little contest to celebrate. Join in and you could win a 6-month Kindle Unlimited Membership (among other things!)
CLICK HERE TO ENTER!
Liz's other Menage Fantasy novels include (click each title to read more):
Honey Red
Essence of Time
Lust on Tap
April 28, 2015
Tuesdays, Houses, and Horses with Liz
As I type this week's super important and crucial to your life Liz blog post, I'm doing it with a new view in front of me. Yes, finally, The Move has occurred. The Great Downsizing of 2015 is complete. The Soon-To-Be-Empty-Nest is now smaller and more manageable (although somehow we now have 3x as big a lawn as we sold).
It's given me a chance to do a bit of random contemplation, while leaping mounds of cardboard and screwing up my back health by lifting, toting, pushing and shoving. The new improved CN (Crowe's Nest) is a solid, 1950's all brick ranch. Just what was on my buyer's list, albeit a bit further afield from WestSide A2 than I had hoped. But it made a lot of sense, given the price (which was good) and the "bones" (which are beyond solid). Even though I'm subjecting the one remaining Wenchling to "gross well water" (which is being fixed via a series of complex and horrifically expensive filters, Iron Curtains and I don't know what all) this place has tons of windows and a feeling of solidity that, as a real estate professional, I truly value.
I've been in and out of a lot of houses, as you might expect. Everything from legit million dollar mansions to not-so-legit McMansions--from $60k starter homes in Ypsi to half a million dollar Burns Park piles of stucco and faux tudor--from the infamous "penthouse condo" that got my writing juices flowing and birthed an entire series of sexy books set in the Ann Arbor RE world to Old West Side turn of the century wood frame homes---I have tromped the boards in a lot of people's current and future homes.
I myself have owned three houses, each of them so completely different from the other I can track my own evolution as an adult/parent/spouse/female human along their trajectory. First it was the "Kerrytown House I Never (ever) Should Have Sold." It was a typical, vaguely 1890's wood frame with a bizarre sort of back yard driveway. It was fully representative of my Hipster Mom stage--one kid birthed, one in the oven, awesomely cool, early adopted K-town abode. We rocked it but then again we were young and had a lot more energy.
Then we moved overseas for 8 years....
And returned with the Crowe Small Army that included the recently added Soccer Wenchling and moved into the 1960's Brady Bunch Suburb house. This house, renovated slowly and lovingly over the course of 11 years held our belongings, poodles, holidays and dramas longer than any house in our family history. It was a solid, center entry colonial with a lovely backyard, 2 car attached garage, 4 bedrooms up with the requisite 2.5 bathrooms and full basement. As a RE pro I like to tell people not to "get attached" to houses. I was pretty attached to that one--for a lot of reasons not the least of which I wrote something like 20 books while living there. But, ever practical, we realized we were living in something like 1/8 of the space while still cleaning (well, SOME of us were cleaning) and paying for the whole thing.
Hence...The Great Downsize Project.
Not it, but close enough....
We had big plans for the place at first and were going to sink a lot of up front money into it but life, as they say, sometimes has Other Plans. And so after a bizarre, 900 square foot condo interim for a few months we are moved into our 1950's Not So Mid Century Modern Phase. It will be, as was the Brady Bunch House, a work in progress. And I love it, 1950s pink bathroom and all.
UPDATES :
VEGAS MIRACLE releases next week. It's a smoking hot super fantasy (as is any "Menage" story) about one super lucky author and her 2 men. Truly, clear your reading decks (and a path to your cold shower) for this one!
It's DERBY WEEK in God's Country! I am happy to say that I have attended this amazing event both as Infield Reveler and as Grown Up in a Dress In a Seat but every year wish I could go again. Lift your mint julep cups in honor of the greatest two minutes in sports! Hey! I know! You could snag and read my Kentucky based self published series The Love Brothers in honor of it, while sipping your bourbon! Just a thought...
PHARMA-WENCHLING graduates from Central Michigan next weekend after taking a Victory Lap (extra year) to get there. He's committed to and headed for the University of Tennessee Pharmacy School in the fall. This, my beloved fans and followers has made me feel old. But it's all good and we are all very proud of how he turned things around for himself. Great things ahead for Numero Uno without a doubt!
Wenchlings. In English School Kid Phase.
ENGINEER WENCHLING (the Wenchling Formerly Known as "Dos") will be making her decision about her next step this week--it's really one of THOSE weeks, is it not? I'm guessing we will be sending care packages chock full of mittens, hats, and warm socks north (WAAAAAAY North) in the fall.
Writing projects: Let's see....I've written a lot of checks for things like "iron curtain water filters" and "invisible fences" but that's about it, which is making me a little twitchy. I do have edits coming back soon for HAT TRICK, the Black Jack Gentlemen book 4 project and plan to dive deep into FAMILY LOVE, book 4 (final novel) of that series that is releasing in late August this year over a weekend that should be pretty quiet around here. Because I love you, here is a working excerpt from that "forbidden love" style story that will intertwine with the story of the one Love Sister, Angelique....
Family Love (working, pre-edited excerpt)
Book 4 The Love Brothers Series
Liz Crowe All Rights Reserved
Coming, August 2015
Lindsay got up with a sigh and climbed back onto the saddle. Her father would be home by now, and he always asked about her first. She’d left behind a real mess—her mama spitting mad, her brother pissed off about his cards and her taking the expensive dressage horse out wilding. After sliding to the ground and pulling Lucy around behind the main barn, hoping to sneak her into the clean up stall unnoticed, Lindsay was surprised to find both of her brothers and her father standing in the door of the barn with a couple of strange men.Glancing around for one of the stable boys to take her horse so she could sidle up to the house, she got her feet tangled in something and lurched forward, letting go of Lucy’s reigns and dropping to her hands and knees in the dust and hay. Her face burned hot as a forbidden words rose to her lips. Both her brothers cursed like sailors on leave outside their mother’s hearing and she’d picked up some of their habits. The words felt so good coming out of her mouth, she couldn’t help but use them whenever she was around the barns—a place her mother rarely graced with her presence. “Shit. God damn it.” She flinched when a very warm, very masculine hand took hold of her arm. Thinking it must be one of her brothers, she yanked herself away. “I can get up my own self.” “Sorry, miss. Just trying to help.”She scrambled to her feet, and turned, sensing herself move in slow motion, blinking fast like a mole in the daylight. That voice had been a new one—gravely, gruff and low. It reverberated around in her chest in a way that made her both tingly and mad. The man that belonged to the voice stood with his hand on Lucy’s flank, his deep brown eyes boring into her. She tried not to but couldn’t help herself as she took him in—He had thick, coal black hair, olive-colored skin, shoulders as wide as any man’s she’d ever seen, even though he wasn’t a tall, which she’d always claimed to prefer. But if she had to conjure a sultry Italian star for a Hollywood movie, this stranger with the incredible voice, in his jeans, plaid shirt and ratted out cowboy hat, would be a shoe-in. His utter foreignness—not just his appearance and voice but the very fact of his presence in her family’s barn—heated every inch of her skin. She kept backing away from him, embarrassing herself even more and then compounding it by whamming her backside into a stack of metal buckets in the cleaning area, sending them clattering down and deafening everyone in the vicinity.The man didn’t move, other than to keep stroking Lucy to keep her from skittering away from the terrifying clamor. He pushed his hat back and tilted his head as if confused by her, or just amused at her abject clumsiness and idiocy. Lindsay sensed something between them—something she’d poo-pooed when she’d read the romance paperbacks but one of the more clichéd phrases rose in her brain and stuck there, like a candy wrapper in a chain link fence.Time stood still.Her face flamed again and she let her embarrassment morph into convenient anger. “What are you staring at?” She’d meant to sound demanding, bossy, as she could be she knew, the more-than-slightly-spoiled daughter of the rich horseman. But her voice cracked, betraying her with its weakness. She cleared her throat, opened her mouth to try again, even as the unbelievably handsome man dressed in dark jeans and a shirt so tight she could discern every muscle in his torso kept her pinned to the wall with his deep, brown gaze.“Ah there you are,” her father’s voice made her flinch and trip straight into the pile of buckets with another curse. “Lindsay, honey, what has gotten into you. Such language.”She glared over at the man who’d taken Lucy’s reigns but still had not stopped staring at her like she was some kind of freak show exhibit. “Sorry Daddy,” she said, moving next to him, shivering in the coolness of the barn after the past hour she’d spent in the sun. He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair. “Sweetheart, I’d like you to meet Lorenzo Love.” Her father turned her slightly. A shorter, less compelling but obviously related version of the man with the voice smiled and held out a hand. She shook it trying to parse the words coming out of her father’s mouth. “Lorenzo is our new manager. He’ll be working with Patrick for a few weeks, then he takes over.”“Pleased to meet you,” she said in a whisper, the back of her neck prickling for some reason. “I hired these boys out from under old Yarrington,” her father said with an obvious bit of pride. “That sonofabitch was hollerin’ at me for sure. But I knew he had some real talent in his back stretch and must have had some seriously good barn management. So, I hired them. Paying them twice what he did, the sorry so-and-so.”The man with the voice who’d made her brief, naïve life come to a screeching halt with one look, joined Lorenzo. He seemed nervous and a little shell-shocked which gave Lindsay another jolt right through her gut. “This is Tony,” her father said, gesturing to him. “Tony Love. He’ll be his brother’s assistant. All right now boys, I’ve got to get my baby girl up to the house. Her mama has some kind of a dinner party planned, right, sugar? You all see Patrick and he’ll get you settled in your new home. It’s a shared house but is has running water and a kitchen should you want to cook for yourselves. There is always food up at the house, where you’re welcome to eat during the week.”Lindsay swallowed and nearly choked on her own spit when Tony stepped forward, took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. “Bellisima,” he said, clear as day. His dark eyes twinkled. His bright white smile blinded her. And that voice—the deep growl of it combined with his over-the-top movie-star Italian looks literally made her hand shake when she yanked it out of his palm.
Her father frowned, then chuckled and smacked Tony hard on the shoulder, sending a message with the force of it. James Halloran Senior was large, in charge and might tolerate the help paying his precious jewel of a daughter a compliment in a fancy foreign language after kissing her hand but only once.
Have a lovely DERBY WEEK! Yours in cardboard,Lizp.s. I sell houses. I'm pretty good at it. Check my website and if you are considering selling in A2 NOW is the time to do it! We call it a "Seller's Market" but it's more like a frenzy.
It's given me a chance to do a bit of random contemplation, while leaping mounds of cardboard and screwing up my back health by lifting, toting, pushing and shoving. The new improved CN (Crowe's Nest) is a solid, 1950's all brick ranch. Just what was on my buyer's list, albeit a bit further afield from WestSide A2 than I had hoped. But it made a lot of sense, given the price (which was good) and the "bones" (which are beyond solid). Even though I'm subjecting the one remaining Wenchling to "gross well water" (which is being fixed via a series of complex and horrifically expensive filters, Iron Curtains and I don't know what all) this place has tons of windows and a feeling of solidity that, as a real estate professional, I truly value.
I've been in and out of a lot of houses, as you might expect. Everything from legit million dollar mansions to not-so-legit McMansions--from $60k starter homes in Ypsi to half a million dollar Burns Park piles of stucco and faux tudor--from the infamous "penthouse condo" that got my writing juices flowing and birthed an entire series of sexy books set in the Ann Arbor RE world to Old West Side turn of the century wood frame homes---I have tromped the boards in a lot of people's current and future homes.
I myself have owned three houses, each of them so completely different from the other I can track my own evolution as an adult/parent/spouse/female human along their trajectory. First it was the "Kerrytown House I Never (ever) Should Have Sold." It was a typical, vaguely 1890's wood frame with a bizarre sort of back yard driveway. It was fully representative of my Hipster Mom stage--one kid birthed, one in the oven, awesomely cool, early adopted K-town abode. We rocked it but then again we were young and had a lot more energy.
Then we moved overseas for 8 years....
And returned with the Crowe Small Army that included the recently added Soccer Wenchling and moved into the 1960's Brady Bunch Suburb house. This house, renovated slowly and lovingly over the course of 11 years held our belongings, poodles, holidays and dramas longer than any house in our family history. It was a solid, center entry colonial with a lovely backyard, 2 car attached garage, 4 bedrooms up with the requisite 2.5 bathrooms and full basement. As a RE pro I like to tell people not to "get attached" to houses. I was pretty attached to that one--for a lot of reasons not the least of which I wrote something like 20 books while living there. But, ever practical, we realized we were living in something like 1/8 of the space while still cleaning (well, SOME of us were cleaning) and paying for the whole thing.
Hence...The Great Downsize Project.
Not it, but close enough....We had big plans for the place at first and were going to sink a lot of up front money into it but life, as they say, sometimes has Other Plans. And so after a bizarre, 900 square foot condo interim for a few months we are moved into our 1950's Not So Mid Century Modern Phase. It will be, as was the Brady Bunch House, a work in progress. And I love it, 1950s pink bathroom and all.
UPDATES :
VEGAS MIRACLE releases next week. It's a smoking hot super fantasy (as is any "Menage" story) about one super lucky author and her 2 men. Truly, clear your reading decks (and a path to your cold shower) for this one!
It's DERBY WEEK in God's Country! I am happy to say that I have attended this amazing event both as Infield Reveler and as Grown Up in a Dress In a Seat but every year wish I could go again. Lift your mint julep cups in honor of the greatest two minutes in sports! Hey! I know! You could snag and read my Kentucky based self published series The Love Brothers in honor of it, while sipping your bourbon! Just a thought...
PHARMA-WENCHLING graduates from Central Michigan next weekend after taking a Victory Lap (extra year) to get there. He's committed to and headed for the University of Tennessee Pharmacy School in the fall. This, my beloved fans and followers has made me feel old. But it's all good and we are all very proud of how he turned things around for himself. Great things ahead for Numero Uno without a doubt!
Wenchlings. In English School Kid Phase.ENGINEER WENCHLING (the Wenchling Formerly Known as "Dos") will be making her decision about her next step this week--it's really one of THOSE weeks, is it not? I'm guessing we will be sending care packages chock full of mittens, hats, and warm socks north (WAAAAAAY North) in the fall.
Writing projects: Let's see....I've written a lot of checks for things like "iron curtain water filters" and "invisible fences" but that's about it, which is making me a little twitchy. I do have edits coming back soon for HAT TRICK, the Black Jack Gentlemen book 4 project and plan to dive deep into FAMILY LOVE, book 4 (final novel) of that series that is releasing in late August this year over a weekend that should be pretty quiet around here. Because I love you, here is a working excerpt from that "forbidden love" style story that will intertwine with the story of the one Love Sister, Angelique....
Family Love (working, pre-edited excerpt)
Book 4 The Love Brothers Series
Liz Crowe All Rights Reserved
Coming, August 2015Lindsay got up with a sigh and climbed back onto the saddle. Her father would be home by now, and he always asked about her first. She’d left behind a real mess—her mama spitting mad, her brother pissed off about his cards and her taking the expensive dressage horse out wilding. After sliding to the ground and pulling Lucy around behind the main barn, hoping to sneak her into the clean up stall unnoticed, Lindsay was surprised to find both of her brothers and her father standing in the door of the barn with a couple of strange men.Glancing around for one of the stable boys to take her horse so she could sidle up to the house, she got her feet tangled in something and lurched forward, letting go of Lucy’s reigns and dropping to her hands and knees in the dust and hay. Her face burned hot as a forbidden words rose to her lips. Both her brothers cursed like sailors on leave outside their mother’s hearing and she’d picked up some of their habits. The words felt so good coming out of her mouth, she couldn’t help but use them whenever she was around the barns—a place her mother rarely graced with her presence. “Shit. God damn it.” She flinched when a very warm, very masculine hand took hold of her arm. Thinking it must be one of her brothers, she yanked herself away. “I can get up my own self.” “Sorry, miss. Just trying to help.”She scrambled to her feet, and turned, sensing herself move in slow motion, blinking fast like a mole in the daylight. That voice had been a new one—gravely, gruff and low. It reverberated around in her chest in a way that made her both tingly and mad. The man that belonged to the voice stood with his hand on Lucy’s flank, his deep brown eyes boring into her. She tried not to but couldn’t help herself as she took him in—He had thick, coal black hair, olive-colored skin, shoulders as wide as any man’s she’d ever seen, even though he wasn’t a tall, which she’d always claimed to prefer. But if she had to conjure a sultry Italian star for a Hollywood movie, this stranger with the incredible voice, in his jeans, plaid shirt and ratted out cowboy hat, would be a shoe-in. His utter foreignness—not just his appearance and voice but the very fact of his presence in her family’s barn—heated every inch of her skin. She kept backing away from him, embarrassing herself even more and then compounding it by whamming her backside into a stack of metal buckets in the cleaning area, sending them clattering down and deafening everyone in the vicinity.The man didn’t move, other than to keep stroking Lucy to keep her from skittering away from the terrifying clamor. He pushed his hat back and tilted his head as if confused by her, or just amused at her abject clumsiness and idiocy. Lindsay sensed something between them—something she’d poo-pooed when she’d read the romance paperbacks but one of the more clichéd phrases rose in her brain and stuck there, like a candy wrapper in a chain link fence.Time stood still.Her face flamed again and she let her embarrassment morph into convenient anger. “What are you staring at?” She’d meant to sound demanding, bossy, as she could be she knew, the more-than-slightly-spoiled daughter of the rich horseman. But her voice cracked, betraying her with its weakness. She cleared her throat, opened her mouth to try again, even as the unbelievably handsome man dressed in dark jeans and a shirt so tight she could discern every muscle in his torso kept her pinned to the wall with his deep, brown gaze.“Ah there you are,” her father’s voice made her flinch and trip straight into the pile of buckets with another curse. “Lindsay, honey, what has gotten into you. Such language.”She glared over at the man who’d taken Lucy’s reigns but still had not stopped staring at her like she was some kind of freak show exhibit. “Sorry Daddy,” she said, moving next to him, shivering in the coolness of the barn after the past hour she’d spent in the sun. He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair. “Sweetheart, I’d like you to meet Lorenzo Love.” Her father turned her slightly. A shorter, less compelling but obviously related version of the man with the voice smiled and held out a hand. She shook it trying to parse the words coming out of her father’s mouth. “Lorenzo is our new manager. He’ll be working with Patrick for a few weeks, then he takes over.”“Pleased to meet you,” she said in a whisper, the back of her neck prickling for some reason. “I hired these boys out from under old Yarrington,” her father said with an obvious bit of pride. “That sonofabitch was hollerin’ at me for sure. But I knew he had some real talent in his back stretch and must have had some seriously good barn management. So, I hired them. Paying them twice what he did, the sorry so-and-so.”The man with the voice who’d made her brief, naïve life come to a screeching halt with one look, joined Lorenzo. He seemed nervous and a little shell-shocked which gave Lindsay another jolt right through her gut. “This is Tony,” her father said, gesturing to him. “Tony Love. He’ll be his brother’s assistant. All right now boys, I’ve got to get my baby girl up to the house. Her mama has some kind of a dinner party planned, right, sugar? You all see Patrick and he’ll get you settled in your new home. It’s a shared house but is has running water and a kitchen should you want to cook for yourselves. There is always food up at the house, where you’re welcome to eat during the week.”Lindsay swallowed and nearly choked on her own spit when Tony stepped forward, took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips. “Bellisima,” he said, clear as day. His dark eyes twinkled. His bright white smile blinded her. And that voice—the deep growl of it combined with his over-the-top movie-star Italian looks literally made her hand shake when she yanked it out of his palm.
Her father frowned, then chuckled and smacked Tony hard on the shoulder, sending a message with the force of it. James Halloran Senior was large, in charge and might tolerate the help paying his precious jewel of a daughter a compliment in a fancy foreign language after kissing her hand but only once.
Have a lovely DERBY WEEK! Yours in cardboard,Lizp.s. I sell houses. I'm pretty good at it. Check my website and if you are considering selling in A2 NOW is the time to do it! We call it a "Seller's Market" but it's more like a frenzy.
April 21, 2015
Two Is Better? The Vegas Miracle Cover Reveal
Welcome to the beautiful, new, improved cover for one of the HOTTEST Liz books going...
Yes, VEGAS MIRACLE, one of my 4 "m/m/f menage romances" (or as I like to call them "fantasies") is re-releasing on May 5 with a fresh new look.
Honest to goodness you will NOT want to miss this!
Ryan and Grace Sullivan have all the outward indications of a happy life: money, success, an undeniable physical attraction that quickly evolved from whirlwind relationship to marriage. But lately, Ryan's become moody and distant. As their relationship starts to crumble, Ryan discovers something about himself he can't admit just as Grace realizes the young man she encounters at an invitation only party, Henri Christophe, a celebrity chef with the most successful restaurant in Las Vegas, is her husband's lover. But Henri holds a secret himself. He wants to be more to both of them.
As they attempt to make their unconventional arrangement work, Ryan's deep-seated fear of relationship failure continues to thwart everyone's happiness. When he finally walks away instead of confronting the emotional connection the trio shares, he returns to find their lives flipped inside out. A sought after hotel and resort consultant, Ryan has yet to meet a problem he couldn't solve. But when it comes to his own heart, he may be too late.
And because I can, an EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT Rated NC17/NSFW.....
She let herself be led across the room, the woman’s arm through hers. Aware of activity behind the filmy curtains, Grace gulped at her drink, hoping it would calm her nerves. As she became more aware of what exactly was going on behind the curtains they kept passing, Grace gasped and clutched at the woman’s arm. Ryan caught up with her then, taking her glass and putting her other arm through his. Bracketed on either side, she let herself be led out of the large room into a wide, plush hallway. Beautiful people were draped around on leather furniture, some were kissing, some were drinking, but all were completely naked. Grace gaped at them, feeling like a naïve voyeur. She tried to avert her eyes but they refused to cooperate and took to darting around instead, trying to process everything. Ryan squeezed her hand as they made their way down the hall, the music still pulsing through the place but more muted back there. The beautiful creatures in the hall were nowfollowing them as her husband stopped and knocked on a dark walnut door. It swung open, revealing a room ablaze with candles. As Grace’s eyes adjusted to the new light, the odors of burning wax and a light, yet masculine cologne filled her nose. Ryan led the way into the room as Grace’s new female friend followed, her hand brushing against Grace’s hip and lingering there. "Come," the woman whispered into her ear. "Sit here." She gestured to a love seat positioned across from a large bed draped with red and orange sheer fabric. "We'll relax together." The woman snapped her long fingers and two tall glasses of liquid appeared. "I'm Nadia," she said as she draped herself on a corner of the lounge, her eyes beckoning Grace to do the same.Ryan walked with her over to the love seat, but positioned himself behind it, indicating Grace should sit. His smile quieted her nerves some,but her hands shook as she accepted the glass. As soon as she looked up, Grace saw the body on the bed. It was a man with the most perfect form Grace had ever seen, laying on his side reading a book, a dark towel positioned strategically across his hips. Glancing over at Nadia, Grace noted the lust in the woman’s eyes. Not for the vision on the bed—for her. The woman nodded towards the reclining man, indicating Grace should focus her attention there.A figure appeared on the far side of the room. Another man clothed in dark denim jeans and nothing else, strode around to the reclining man and sat, running a hand down his shoulder to his waist, moving aside the towel. Grace tried to clench her eyes shut, but Nadia’s hand on her neck, her cool fingers brushing Grace’s skin, plus the alcohol she had in her system, kept her eyes glued on the men in front of her as a thick, hard cock was revealed an inch at a time. The man on the bed lay back. Grace was close enough to see his eyes darken further as he gazed at the man in jeans next to him. Blue jean man put a finger to the other’s lips, then ran it down his neck and across his pecs to his nipple before dropping further down to his picture perfect six-pack and finally to the tip of his shaft, which already glistened.He tried to sit, to reach the sitting man’s lips, then whimpered when he got pushed back onto the bed. The man in blue jeans produced what looked to be black rope and Grace sensed her body ramp into high gear, embarrassed and thrilled at what was about to happen right in front of her. She shifted, crossing her legs, but Nadia placed a hand on one exposed knee and pulled them apart, smiling at her, not allowing Grace to press her thighs together. Ryan’s familiar hand rested on her shoulder providing a small modicum of normality. She watched, mesmerized, as the man on the bed smiled and held his hands up over his head. The vision in blue jeans reached up and secured his wrists to a wooden bedpost. He then put a hand between the other man’s legs, forcing them apart. Tying off each ankle as well, the man in blue jeans looked straight into Grace’s eyes and smiled, sending shock waves straight into her pussy. She leaned back, breathing fast and Ryan’s other hand reached down to caress her breast as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to fondle her in a room full of strangers as they prepared to watch two men fuck.
Wait for it....MAY 5! You will want to clear your reading decks for this one!
Yes, VEGAS MIRACLE, one of my 4 "m/m/f menage romances" (or as I like to call them "fantasies") is re-releasing on May 5 with a fresh new look.
Honest to goodness you will NOT want to miss this!
Ryan and Grace Sullivan have all the outward indications of a happy life: money, success, an undeniable physical attraction that quickly evolved from whirlwind relationship to marriage. But lately, Ryan's become moody and distant. As their relationship starts to crumble, Ryan discovers something about himself he can't admit just as Grace realizes the young man she encounters at an invitation only party, Henri Christophe, a celebrity chef with the most successful restaurant in Las Vegas, is her husband's lover. But Henri holds a secret himself. He wants to be more to both of them.
As they attempt to make their unconventional arrangement work, Ryan's deep-seated fear of relationship failure continues to thwart everyone's happiness. When he finally walks away instead of confronting the emotional connection the trio shares, he returns to find their lives flipped inside out. A sought after hotel and resort consultant, Ryan has yet to meet a problem he couldn't solve. But when it comes to his own heart, he may be too late.
And because I can, an EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT Rated NC17/NSFW.....
She let herself be led across the room, the woman’s arm through hers. Aware of activity behind the filmy curtains, Grace gulped at her drink, hoping it would calm her nerves. As she became more aware of what exactly was going on behind the curtains they kept passing, Grace gasped and clutched at the woman’s arm. Ryan caught up with her then, taking her glass and putting her other arm through his. Bracketed on either side, she let herself be led out of the large room into a wide, plush hallway. Beautiful people were draped around on leather furniture, some were kissing, some were drinking, but all were completely naked. Grace gaped at them, feeling like a naïve voyeur. She tried to avert her eyes but they refused to cooperate and took to darting around instead, trying to process everything. Ryan squeezed her hand as they made their way down the hall, the music still pulsing through the place but more muted back there. The beautiful creatures in the hall were nowfollowing them as her husband stopped and knocked on a dark walnut door. It swung open, revealing a room ablaze with candles. As Grace’s eyes adjusted to the new light, the odors of burning wax and a light, yet masculine cologne filled her nose. Ryan led the way into the room as Grace’s new female friend followed, her hand brushing against Grace’s hip and lingering there. "Come," the woman whispered into her ear. "Sit here." She gestured to a love seat positioned across from a large bed draped with red and orange sheer fabric. "We'll relax together." The woman snapped her long fingers and two tall glasses of liquid appeared. "I'm Nadia," she said as she draped herself on a corner of the lounge, her eyes beckoning Grace to do the same.Ryan walked with her over to the love seat, but positioned himself behind it, indicating Grace should sit. His smile quieted her nerves some,but her hands shook as she accepted the glass. As soon as she looked up, Grace saw the body on the bed. It was a man with the most perfect form Grace had ever seen, laying on his side reading a book, a dark towel positioned strategically across his hips. Glancing over at Nadia, Grace noted the lust in the woman’s eyes. Not for the vision on the bed—for her. The woman nodded towards the reclining man, indicating Grace should focus her attention there.A figure appeared on the far side of the room. Another man clothed in dark denim jeans and nothing else, strode around to the reclining man and sat, running a hand down his shoulder to his waist, moving aside the towel. Grace tried to clench her eyes shut, but Nadia’s hand on her neck, her cool fingers brushing Grace’s skin, plus the alcohol she had in her system, kept her eyes glued on the men in front of her as a thick, hard cock was revealed an inch at a time. The man on the bed lay back. Grace was close enough to see his eyes darken further as he gazed at the man in jeans next to him. Blue jean man put a finger to the other’s lips, then ran it down his neck and across his pecs to his nipple before dropping further down to his picture perfect six-pack and finally to the tip of his shaft, which already glistened.He tried to sit, to reach the sitting man’s lips, then whimpered when he got pushed back onto the bed. The man in blue jeans produced what looked to be black rope and Grace sensed her body ramp into high gear, embarrassed and thrilled at what was about to happen right in front of her. She shifted, crossing her legs, but Nadia placed a hand on one exposed knee and pulled them apart, smiling at her, not allowing Grace to press her thighs together. Ryan’s familiar hand rested on her shoulder providing a small modicum of normality. She watched, mesmerized, as the man on the bed smiled and held his hands up over his head. The vision in blue jeans reached up and secured his wrists to a wooden bedpost. He then put a hand between the other man’s legs, forcing them apart. Tying off each ankle as well, the man in blue jeans looked straight into Grace’s eyes and smiled, sending shock waves straight into her pussy. She leaned back, breathing fast and Ryan’s other hand reached down to caress her breast as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to fondle her in a room full of strangers as they prepared to watch two men fuck.
Wait for it....MAY 5! You will want to clear your reading decks for this one!
April 12, 2015
Monday Musing: Making It Matter
Greetings and happy Monday Liz fans and others!
Today we are gonna talk about what matters.
I know, I know this is a Super Duper Important and Yet Somehow Utterly Vague Topic.
But bear with me.
You see, I've been thinking a lot about my journey as an author and how at various stages I've felt proud, frustrated, elated, horrified, happy, miserable many times all of these things at once. Writer's have giant egos. But yet their size is in direct correlation to their frailty. We need feedback, stroking, props and more to keep us going. I know this and perversely the more books I write and the more fans I manage to rope into my somewhat unique, romance-but-not-quite-"romance" world I find I need it even more.
Kind of a lot of pressure to put on people who just enjoy reading books and have the advantage of the new digital age of easy access to authors. But yet so thrilling to open up Facebook or twitter and find someone totally new saying "I just love all your books!"
This matters, dear ones. Never discount the power of your time and effort to seek out an author you've recently enjoyed and telling them so.
I have always been a vocal proponent both to myself and any poor newbie who thinks my advice might be worth asking to WRITE WHAT YOU WANT TO READ.
This may dovetail with current trends. You may love reading dinosaur porn, or about mysterious billionaires who love to spank, or even the latest "steps" trend. Yes, this is A Thing and I'll keep my opinion to myself on it. It sells. As a marketer first, author second I respect this no matter my "ick" factor.
Or you may be like me an prefer to read about strong characters no matter how much money they have in the bank or how they got it, in situations that require them to be honest about their emotions. "Relationship fiction" I like to think of it and have called it as such. Not so much "romance" but that's another blog post, as you know.
As an author, be you raw newcomer with fingertip hovering over the "send" on that query or "publish" on your first novel or seasoned, cynical, glass-half-empty grump like myself, you owe it to yourself to write a book that you would pick up and read.
This matters.
One of the more prolific and entertaining advice-givers out there, Kristen Lamb whose book on using social media to your advantage as an author is something you should pick up and read, put her finger on something for me that I struggled with for a while. The stage we all pass through in which we find it impossible to read a book, watch a TV show or a movie without ripping it apart in our heads, critiquing it within an inch of its life and getting red-faced pissed-off about how in the name of all holy did that piece of utter dog mess make it onto a best seller list/the screen. This is a frustrating thing and something I still struggle with but less so, now that I understand what matters.
What matters is that you understand story structure, plotting and characterization as others have put them into play. It can not only inspire you to concoct a side story from something already existing (less "fan fiction" and more "what about that intern in the law office and what's HIS story maybe I'll tell something like it") but it also helps you understand what works and what does not. The human brain is wired to accept certain things as viable, even if YOUR "viable" might be a tad different from mine (see: Liz as cynical curmudgeon). But as an Author, you take on the responsibility to be not only a consumer of your craft but a producer.
If you thought you had the world's most amazing recipe for apple pie, but yet claimed you "never eat apple pie because that's cruel" or whatever, I would hardly consider you an expert and would give your apple pie a pass (and I rarely, if ever, give apple pie a pass). You must understand what's out there, what works for the general public (or for specific areas of it) and what doesn't (for you). Then you craft something that you would read but that has all the elements required of Your Product: pacing, plot, characterization and dialogue that you have slaved over, yes, but things slaved over are the best.
My case in point for this (and the impetus for today's highly alliterative Monday Musing) is my current Work in Progress. I am crafting a thriller novel for the first time, and read some of the more popular and best selling thrillers in order to understand pacing. I mean, I know what I'm doing, right? Well, I did until I put my hand to this thing and it got so wildly out of control thanks to my pantser tendencies I am now on version 4 of it.
When I got back comments from an editor on it recently and we did some back-and-forth about what wasn't working for her about it I had my initial, knee-jerk "OH NO SHE D'INT" reaction. But there I was, guilty of not understanding that if I wanted to sell this book Big Time (and I do, make no mistake) I had to get back to being a consumer. I had to understand that thriller novels are just as formula-driven as romance and it behooved me to embrace that (again) and dig deep into the manuscript (again) to coax out the first half that matched the ("near perfect" were her words and I sometimes stare at them to remind myself that not all is lost) second half of this book.
It matters when you re-work something and give it the attention it deserves. In this "hurry up and publish more and more and yet more" environment we inhabit the "let it sit and simmer and come back to it" concept is almost lost. It's a vicious circle--you publish a book or 2, make a small amount of money, gain a few fans and you feel that you must push out the next one fast. While on some levels this is the case because frankly, unless you're promoting something new in this crazy publishing world you might as well be banging your cowbell in an empty room. On the other hand, I'm smack in the middle of something that I thought I could rush and have found that I simply cannot and should not.
Hopefully by the end of this frustrating horrible useful process I will have a book that will be what I want it to be: The Liz Crowe Breakthrough Novel that drives everyone to my 20+ book backlist--that will get me noticed and turn into a movie but you know, every author wants that.
But what matters really? That as an author I have matured to the point where I know letting it simmer and stew and get better via revisions is just as viable a process as my previously acclaimed "marathon writing" sessions. These sessions have produced the vast majority of my books so far and I anticipate they will again but this time, this book needs to "age" and I'm letting it.
Because It Matters.
Random Promotional Update :
LOVE BREWING, the novel about Love Brother number 3 Dominic is on sale for a few days this week over at the 'Zon. It's part of the "Kindle Countdown Deal" so keep checking back to see how low the price will go. In keeping with my "Romance. Worth the Risk" motto, this novel delves into Dominic's past (the bad boy brother that fans were dying to read about) and is in part "new adult," but also a realistic look at manic depression and how it affects the depressed but also everyone around them. Snag your copy for a buck for the next 3 days.
VEGAS MIRACLE, one the hottest books I've written, is slated for a re-release under a lovely new cover. Click here if you're a blogger and want in on the cover reveal/release day/ARC reading action!
Movie Review : The Theory of Everything.
I do NOT cry at movies. This one made me bawl, and not because I'm sad that Stephen Hawking is an amazing human being and got a raw deal, physically. But because of the Real Life Love Story--one where people try and fail and try again. And while not everyone ends up with the person they started with (and loved, whole heartedly) they do end up happy. I've walked around in a bit of a daze all weekend, pondering this movie's awesomeness. It was subtle. There were no hot 'n heavy hookups between people who were not married to each other. But there was real desire, shown in a glance, or an expression that trumps EVERY SINGLE EXPLICIT SCENE I HAVE EVER SEEN OR READ YET.
Today we are gonna talk about what matters.
I know, I know this is a Super Duper Important and Yet Somehow Utterly Vague Topic.
But bear with me.
You see, I've been thinking a lot about my journey as an author and how at various stages I've felt proud, frustrated, elated, horrified, happy, miserable many times all of these things at once. Writer's have giant egos. But yet their size is in direct correlation to their frailty. We need feedback, stroking, props and more to keep us going. I know this and perversely the more books I write and the more fans I manage to rope into my somewhat unique, romance-but-not-quite-"romance" world I find I need it even more.
Kind of a lot of pressure to put on people who just enjoy reading books and have the advantage of the new digital age of easy access to authors. But yet so thrilling to open up Facebook or twitter and find someone totally new saying "I just love all your books!" This matters, dear ones. Never discount the power of your time and effort to seek out an author you've recently enjoyed and telling them so.
I have always been a vocal proponent both to myself and any poor newbie who thinks my advice might be worth asking to WRITE WHAT YOU WANT TO READ.
This may dovetail with current trends. You may love reading dinosaur porn, or about mysterious billionaires who love to spank, or even the latest "steps" trend. Yes, this is A Thing and I'll keep my opinion to myself on it. It sells. As a marketer first, author second I respect this no matter my "ick" factor.
Or you may be like me an prefer to read about strong characters no matter how much money they have in the bank or how they got it, in situations that require them to be honest about their emotions. "Relationship fiction" I like to think of it and have called it as such. Not so much "romance" but that's another blog post, as you know.
As an author, be you raw newcomer with fingertip hovering over the "send" on that query or "publish" on your first novel or seasoned, cynical, glass-half-empty grump like myself, you owe it to yourself to write a book that you would pick up and read.
This matters.
One of the more prolific and entertaining advice-givers out there, Kristen Lamb whose book on using social media to your advantage as an author is something you should pick up and read, put her finger on something for me that I struggled with for a while. The stage we all pass through in which we find it impossible to read a book, watch a TV show or a movie without ripping it apart in our heads, critiquing it within an inch of its life and getting red-faced pissed-off about how in the name of all holy did that piece of utter dog mess make it onto a best seller list/the screen. This is a frustrating thing and something I still struggle with but less so, now that I understand what matters.
What matters is that you understand story structure, plotting and characterization as others have put them into play. It can not only inspire you to concoct a side story from something already existing (less "fan fiction" and more "what about that intern in the law office and what's HIS story maybe I'll tell something like it") but it also helps you understand what works and what does not. The human brain is wired to accept certain things as viable, even if YOUR "viable" might be a tad different from mine (see: Liz as cynical curmudgeon). But as an Author, you take on the responsibility to be not only a consumer of your craft but a producer.
If you thought you had the world's most amazing recipe for apple pie, but yet claimed you "never eat apple pie because that's cruel" or whatever, I would hardly consider you an expert and would give your apple pie a pass (and I rarely, if ever, give apple pie a pass). You must understand what's out there, what works for the general public (or for specific areas of it) and what doesn't (for you). Then you craft something that you would read but that has all the elements required of Your Product: pacing, plot, characterization and dialogue that you have slaved over, yes, but things slaved over are the best.
My case in point for this (and the impetus for today's highly alliterative Monday Musing) is my current Work in Progress. I am crafting a thriller novel for the first time, and read some of the more popular and best selling thrillers in order to understand pacing. I mean, I know what I'm doing, right? Well, I did until I put my hand to this thing and it got so wildly out of control thanks to my pantser tendencies I am now on version 4 of it.
When I got back comments from an editor on it recently and we did some back-and-forth about what wasn't working for her about it I had my initial, knee-jerk "OH NO SHE D'INT" reaction. But there I was, guilty of not understanding that if I wanted to sell this book Big Time (and I do, make no mistake) I had to get back to being a consumer. I had to understand that thriller novels are just as formula-driven as romance and it behooved me to embrace that (again) and dig deep into the manuscript (again) to coax out the first half that matched the ("near perfect" were her words and I sometimes stare at them to remind myself that not all is lost) second half of this book.
It matters when you re-work something and give it the attention it deserves. In this "hurry up and publish more and more and yet more" environment we inhabit the "let it sit and simmer and come back to it" concept is almost lost. It's a vicious circle--you publish a book or 2, make a small amount of money, gain a few fans and you feel that you must push out the next one fast. While on some levels this is the case because frankly, unless you're promoting something new in this crazy publishing world you might as well be banging your cowbell in an empty room. On the other hand, I'm smack in the middle of something that I thought I could rush and have found that I simply cannot and should not.
Hopefully by the end of this frustrating horrible useful process I will have a book that will be what I want it to be: The Liz Crowe Breakthrough Novel that drives everyone to my 20+ book backlist--that will get me noticed and turn into a movie but you know, every author wants that.
But what matters really? That as an author I have matured to the point where I know letting it simmer and stew and get better via revisions is just as viable a process as my previously acclaimed "marathon writing" sessions. These sessions have produced the vast majority of my books so far and I anticipate they will again but this time, this book needs to "age" and I'm letting it.
Because It Matters.
Random Promotional Update :
LOVE BREWING, the novel about Love Brother number 3 Dominic is on sale for a few days this week over at the 'Zon. It's part of the "Kindle Countdown Deal" so keep checking back to see how low the price will go. In keeping with my "Romance. Worth the Risk" motto, this novel delves into Dominic's past (the bad boy brother that fans were dying to read about) and is in part "new adult," but also a realistic look at manic depression and how it affects the depressed but also everyone around them. Snag your copy for a buck for the next 3 days.
VEGAS MIRACLE, one the hottest books I've written, is slated for a re-release under a lovely new cover. Click here if you're a blogger and want in on the cover reveal/release day/ARC reading action!
Movie Review : The Theory of Everything.
I do NOT cry at movies. This one made me bawl, and not because I'm sad that Stephen Hawking is an amazing human being and got a raw deal, physically. But because of the Real Life Love Story--one where people try and fail and try again. And while not everyone ends up with the person they started with (and loved, whole heartedly) they do end up happy. I've walked around in a bit of a daze all weekend, pondering this movie's awesomeness. It was subtle. There were no hot 'n heavy hookups between people who were not married to each other. But there was real desire, shown in a glance, or an expression that trumps EVERY SINGLE EXPLICIT SCENE I HAVE EVER SEEN OR READ YET.
April 3, 2015
Monday Musings On a Good Friday
Easter weekend has arrived at last...or "again" depending on your perspective and attitude about it.
For me, it's a bittersweet time of year. Having grown up "in the church" if you will--daughter of a minister whose family's weekend in a small town revolved around what time you got up and ready for Sunday service, during which you were likely pondering that delicious Sunday lunch--Easter weekend was Kind of a Big Deal.
It was full-frontal baskets from The Bunny stuffed with candy and many times small gifts, painted eggs to find around the yard or house, pretty corsages for the women to wear, a fancier than usual post-service lunch after the entire congregation gamely gave it their all for Handel's Hallelujah chorus at the end of an inspiring "He Is Risen" (now quit your bitching and do something positive) style message.
I'll admit I've been lax about these various practices (including the "going to church on Sunday" one that many times I regret for various reasons). Living overseas for so many years with toddlers and newborns wasn't really conducive to the egg-hunt, prezzies in a basket tradition although I did try, up to an including the year I literally forgot to set out the baskets I had purchased in England after drinking way too much the night before, for reasons that are better left to The Imminent Liz Memoir (tentative title: "Headache Pay").
But I will always and forever have fond memories of Sundays spent in the pews, smelling the corsage, anticipating the ham and homemade rolls (with a Cadbury Egg chaser) and, above all for me, the glorious music I associate with my time as a church-goer. Unfortunately, an Easter weekend was also the final time I heard my father's voice--on the phone, breathy, and telling me he was "fine" but he wanted to talk to me as I was trying to navigate the kids around a spring break trip to Sanibel Island.
No, I was not overly close to my father. If anything we spent plenty of years estranged thanks to choices he made regarding his marriage to my mother and his tendency to judge first and screw you if you disagreed with him (ok, stop already I know I get it from him).
But every year about this time I recall that phone call. I can practically taste my impatience with him, with his need to "interrupt" my long-needed vacation (such as it was with 3 kids along) but also with the absolute and final moment of panic I felt when I hung up.
I never spoke to him again. There was an infection in the artificial valve of his heart that went too long misdiagnosed as something else. I saw him, hooked up to a ventilator that--if you have never seen someone hooked up to a ventilator in REAL life was the most awful thing ever and that will never fade no matter how many years insert themselves between that day and this one. But he never woke to judge me, or to sing to me, or to listen to me ever again.
Whether you realize it or not (and if you are a Liz fan you have heard this so many times it's getting a little broken-record-ish) I an rounding the corner on the first anniversary of the most personally devastating event of my almost 50 years on this rock. When I woke up this morning, Good Friday--the day all seemed lost thousands of years ago in a Really Great Story, or in the history of a major religion, however you regard it--the first thing I thought about was my dad. The keen regret I still experience at not listening to him on the phone all those years ago, at not packing up my kids and hightailing it to Lexington the moment after I hung up, never really lessens.
The second thing was the usual "this time last year" thing that my mind tends to do to me lately, reminding me of various missteps, mistakes and hopefully a few decent decisions I've made the the twelve intervening months between that day and this.
I'm blessed to still have my mom with me (and likely reading this now). She retired and get herself up to Michigan several years ago, has made a whole passel of new friends (as she does) and has been invaluable as I work my way through various career changes and choices, providing rides for pre-driving kids, meals that are some of the only times we are all around the table together as a group and a general sounding board (and drinking buddy).
But this time of year never fails to put me in mind of the parent I lost, of the large voice the world lost, and how much I'm reminded to value the time you're given with those you love.
Agent Update : 2 fresh rejections but that manuscript is getting a do-over so I'll stop submitting it and will no longer be subjecting you to this depressing little line of the weekly Liz Musings.
WIP Status : Editing this week, Hat Trick, book 4 of the Black Jack Gentlemen, my fictional Detroit soccer series. Diving into FAMILY LOVE, book 4 of The Love Brothers, a series that is really picking up steam amongst readers eager for a unique plot and set of characters. I am really really really super duper excited about this book as it will be a "novel within a novel" project--something I've never tried.
COACH LOVE IS STILL FREE THROUGH SATURDAY on Amazon! Snag it, read it, and get hooked.
Spring Break Plans : headed out for a college visit, then it's full on "get that damn house ready to move into and stop f*cking around with it!"
Thanks for bearing with me during my annual Easter Weekend Guilt Trip. But as much of a downer as all that is, I'm still enough of a "church going child" to feel uplifted by the thought of "He is Risen" (now get off your ass and do something to make Him proud!).
cheers
Liz
p.s. Dear Izzo,
March 31, 2015
Brenda Novak Stops By With a Kindle Fire
Don't Miss Brenda's Kindle Fire giveaway at the bottom of the post!
THIS HEART OF MINEby Brenda Novak
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
As the daughter of a hoarder, Phoenix Fuller had a tough childhood. So when the handsome, popular Riley Stinson became her boyfriend in high school, she finally felt as though she had something to be proud of. Phoenix was desperate not to lose him—especially once she found out she was pregnant. Yes, she might have acted a bit obsessive when he broke up with her. But she did not run down the girl he started dating next.
Unfortunately, there was no way to prove her innocence. Now, after serving her time in prison, Phoenix has been released. All she wants to do is return to Whiskey Creek and get to know her son. But Jacob’s father isn’t exactly welcoming.
Riley doesn’t trust Phoenix, doesn’t want her in Jacob’s life. He is, however, ready to find someone to love. And he wants a good mother for his son. He has no idea that he’s about to find both!~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Once again, Phoenix’s eyes were riveted on her son. Only this time, she felt such a surge of emotion she almost darted into the bathroom. She could not break down.
Please, God, don’t let me cry. He won’t come within ten feet of me if I do.
But the harder she tried to hold back her tears, the more overwhelmed she became. In a panic, she slipped around the corner, into the small alcove by the bathrooms, and leaned her head against the wall.
Breathe. Don’t blow this.
The bell over the door jingled, telling her that Riley and Jacob had stepped inside. She imagined them looking around, maybe getting annoyed when they didn’t find her. But she was frozen in place. She absolutely could. Not. Move.
“Hey,” she heard the hostess say with a familiarity that hadn’t been present in her greeting to Phoenix. “We’re busy this morning, like we are every Saturday. But if you can wait for a few minutes, I’ll get you a table.”
“We’re actually meeting someone who should be here.”
That had to be Riley, but Phoenix couldn’t say she recognized his voice. Her memories of him were vivid. But they’d both been so young, and he’d changed a great deal. No longer the skinny teenager she’d known in high school, he was a man with plenty of hard muscle on his solid frame, a man in his prime, and that had been more than apparent as she’d watched him walk, shoulder to shoulder, with their son a few seconds earlier.
“Who are you here to meet?” the hostess asked.
“Name’s Phoenix Fuller,” came his response.
“What does she look like?”
“I’m not sure these days,” he said, and Phoenix winced. Her shoulder-length dark hair wasn’t bad. It was thick, probably her best asset. Her hazel eyes weren’t unattractive, either. She didn’t feel she was ugly. But the scars on her face would be new to him. She hadn’t had those when she went to prison.
“She wasn’t very tall,” he added, as if that might be the only detail still applicable.
“There was a woman who said she was expecting two more to join her,” the hostess said. “But I don’t know where she went…”
Determined not to miss this opportunity after waiting so long for it, Phoenix curved her fingernails into her palms, took a deep breath and stepped around the corner. “Sorry I…I had to wash my hands.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Brenda Novak is the author of fifty books. A four-time Rita nominee, she has won many awards, including the National Reader’s Choice, the Bookseller’s Best, the Book Buyer’s Best, the Daphne, and the Holt Medallion. She also runs Brenda Novak for the Cure, a charity to raise money for diabetes research (her youngest son has this disease). To date, she’s raised $2.4 million. For more about Brenda, please visit www.brendanovak.com.
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/This-Heart-Whiskey-Creek-Novels/dp/0778316726/ref=tmm_mmp_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1416452899&sr=1-4?tag-brennova09-20
Amazon Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/This-Heart-Whiskey-Creek-Novels-ebook/dp/B00OYCW4RW/ref=asap_B001IGNW9G_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1416452899&sr=1-4?tag-brennova09-20
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/this-heart-of-mine-brenda-novak/1120348728?ean=9780778316725
Barnes & Noble Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/this-heart-of-mine-brenda-novak/1120348728?ean=9781460380536
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/this-heart-of-mine/id933737301?mt=11
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/this-heart-of-mine-6
Websitewww.brendanovak.com
Facebookhttps://www.facebook.com/BrendaNovakAuthor
Twitterhttps://twitter.com/brenda_novak
CLICK HERE TO ENTER TO WIN A KINDLE FIRE!!!!
March 23, 2015
Monday Musings: Fans, Fangirling, & An Announcement
Spent some more time this past weekend amongst my fellows, slinging product as we do and meeting up with existing fans and hopefully making new ones. The event was the Detroit Indie Author Mashup, organized by This Redhead Loves Books. I had a great time, and was able to “debut” the beautiful new covers for the original Jack & Sara Trilogy from The Stewart Realty series.
I also got a fresh look at how some successful authors present themselves at these things, how they pick and choose from among the many “multi author signing events” available these days and how they use (or don’t use) signage, giveaways, “swag,” and other gimmicks. In my quest to stay fresh, and to spend what money I have wisely, I’m always seeking this sort of knowledge. I struck it rich because my next-door-table-mate was Meghan March, a USA Today best selling author who had some great advice and was willing to give it. Always a treat when someone as successful as she is willing to spill a little of her “how I did it” words into my rookie ears.
Met this amazing lady, an author from Saline--Claudia Whitsitt & her amazing coffee-hero spouse.
With Dawn, one of my most favoritist fans.
With local author A.M. Griffin (I love meeting people face to face I'm buddies with online!)
With another newer fan, Ginelle.
My next event isn’t until October 10, when I’ll be signing and selling and slinging at the Great Lakes Book Bash in Kalamazoo so mark those calendars! I will be debuting a hot little number I call “VEGAS MIRACLE” in print there…..and speaking of….
I know I yammer on a lot about how I “don’t write formula romance,” and my plots are “unique and sometimes unpredictable.” While I write within some commonly known and beloved romance subgenres like “m/m” and “ménage” I usually add my distinctive real life twist to them. One of the very first books I had published was called Vegas Miracle. It features a m/m/f ménage – the first one I ever concocted—and is, hands down, one of THE steamiest books I’ve written. And for those of you in the know, that is saying a lot.
I’m not a huge believer in the construct that 2 men would willingly share a woman. Men are not designed for that, evolutionarily speaking. They are wired to propagate, to find more women, not to settle down and go halvsies with some other dude, even if they like messing with that dude too (“side bonus for the bi-sexual man”). Most of my “three-way” plots involve situations where the “third” is thrust into the situation/couple by necessity.
But this is something I wrote with an eye toward "just trying it"--the menage theme.
What emerged is something that contains seriously white smoking hot scenes, and three people who come to find themselves enjoying not only each other's company "in bed" but also each other's emotional support during various trying times for each of them.
Yeah, it's a little angsty at times but hey, it's what I do. I guarantee you that you'll require cold shower/alone time throughout the reading experience so I thought it was high time this steamy number got re-released into the wild.
Here is the blurb:Ryan and Grace Sullivan have all the outward indications of a happy life: money, success, an undeniable physical attraction that quickly evolved from whirlwind relationship to marriage. But lately, Ryan's become moody and distant. As their relationship starts to crumble, Ryan discovers something about himself he can't admit just as Grace realizes the young man she encounters at an invitation only party, Henri Christophe, a celebrity chef with the most successful restaurant in Las Vegas, is her husband's lover. But Henri holds a secret himself. He wants to be more to both of them.
As they attempt to make their unconventional arrangement work, Ryan's deep-seated fear of relationship failure continues to thwart everyone's happiness. When he finally walks away instead of confronting the emotional connection the trio shares, he returns to find their lives flipped inside out. A sought after hotel and resort consultant, Ryan has yet to meet a problem he couldn't solve. But when it comes to his own heart, he may be too late.
Intrigued enough to snag an Advanced Review Copy of the "new and improved" Vegas Miracle? You can, as long as you promise to review.Click here to sign up for your copy!
Agent Hunt Update : One fresh rejection over the weekend but I did get one of them to respond back when I said "But whyyyyyyyyyy?" or something to that effect. She encouraged me to pitch directly to someone at a convention. Well, unless they have those wherever my kid is playing soccer this summer, that's not happening I'm afraid.
Segue to Kid Bragging Moment :Numero Dos got into all the schools she applied to INCLUDING the University of Down the Road (I.e. "Michigan"). We are very proud.
Numero Uno made it back alive and sunburned from Panama City Beach Spring Break, yo. He's in a downhill rush to graduation from Central Michigan this May and will head to the University of Tennessee Pharmacy School in the fall.
Soccer Wenchling's team qualified for the U.S. Youth Soccer National League final tourney, thanks to their excellent play in North Carolina and Orlando last year and to the way the 2nd leg of quarter finals went in Las Vegas. So.....we are Oklahoma bound in July it would seem.
March Madness News:
My team is still in. Is yours?
Make it a great week, Liz fans and others!
Tiffany, the "Redhead" who loves books on a panel discussion of "marketing" or in my case "What not to do online."
Spotted in the parking lot after the event.
I also got a fresh look at how some successful authors present themselves at these things, how they pick and choose from among the many “multi author signing events” available these days and how they use (or don’t use) signage, giveaways, “swag,” and other gimmicks. In my quest to stay fresh, and to spend what money I have wisely, I’m always seeking this sort of knowledge. I struck it rich because my next-door-table-mate was Meghan March, a USA Today best selling author who had some great advice and was willing to give it. Always a treat when someone as successful as she is willing to spill a little of her “how I did it” words into my rookie ears.
Met this amazing lady, an author from Saline--Claudia Whitsitt & her amazing coffee-hero spouse.
With Dawn, one of my most favoritist fans.
With local author A.M. Griffin (I love meeting people face to face I'm buddies with online!)
With another newer fan, Ginelle.My next event isn’t until October 10, when I’ll be signing and selling and slinging at the Great Lakes Book Bash in Kalamazoo so mark those calendars! I will be debuting a hot little number I call “VEGAS MIRACLE” in print there…..and speaking of….
I know I yammer on a lot about how I “don’t write formula romance,” and my plots are “unique and sometimes unpredictable.” While I write within some commonly known and beloved romance subgenres like “m/m” and “ménage” I usually add my distinctive real life twist to them. One of the very first books I had published was called Vegas Miracle. It features a m/m/f ménage – the first one I ever concocted—and is, hands down, one of THE steamiest books I’ve written. And for those of you in the know, that is saying a lot.
I’m not a huge believer in the construct that 2 men would willingly share a woman. Men are not designed for that, evolutionarily speaking. They are wired to propagate, to find more women, not to settle down and go halvsies with some other dude, even if they like messing with that dude too (“side bonus for the bi-sexual man”). Most of my “three-way” plots involve situations where the “third” is thrust into the situation/couple by necessity.
But this is something I wrote with an eye toward "just trying it"--the menage theme.
What emerged is something that contains seriously white smoking hot scenes, and three people who come to find themselves enjoying not only each other's company "in bed" but also each other's emotional support during various trying times for each of them.
Yeah, it's a little angsty at times but hey, it's what I do. I guarantee you that you'll require cold shower/alone time throughout the reading experience so I thought it was high time this steamy number got re-released into the wild.
Here is the blurb:Ryan and Grace Sullivan have all the outward indications of a happy life: money, success, an undeniable physical attraction that quickly evolved from whirlwind relationship to marriage. But lately, Ryan's become moody and distant. As their relationship starts to crumble, Ryan discovers something about himself he can't admit just as Grace realizes the young man she encounters at an invitation only party, Henri Christophe, a celebrity chef with the most successful restaurant in Las Vegas, is her husband's lover. But Henri holds a secret himself. He wants to be more to both of them.
As they attempt to make their unconventional arrangement work, Ryan's deep-seated fear of relationship failure continues to thwart everyone's happiness. When he finally walks away instead of confronting the emotional connection the trio shares, he returns to find their lives flipped inside out. A sought after hotel and resort consultant, Ryan has yet to meet a problem he couldn't solve. But when it comes to his own heart, he may be too late.
Intrigued enough to snag an Advanced Review Copy of the "new and improved" Vegas Miracle? You can, as long as you promise to review.Click here to sign up for your copy!
Agent Hunt Update : One fresh rejection over the weekend but I did get one of them to respond back when I said "But whyyyyyyyyyy?" or something to that effect. She encouraged me to pitch directly to someone at a convention. Well, unless they have those wherever my kid is playing soccer this summer, that's not happening I'm afraid.
Segue to Kid Bragging Moment :Numero Dos got into all the schools she applied to INCLUDING the University of Down the Road (I.e. "Michigan"). We are very proud.
Numero Uno made it back alive and sunburned from Panama City Beach Spring Break, yo. He's in a downhill rush to graduation from Central Michigan this May and will head to the University of Tennessee Pharmacy School in the fall.
Soccer Wenchling's team qualified for the U.S. Youth Soccer National League final tourney, thanks to their excellent play in North Carolina and Orlando last year and to the way the 2nd leg of quarter finals went in Las Vegas. So.....we are Oklahoma bound in July it would seem.
March Madness News:
My team is still in. Is yours?
Make it a great week, Liz fans and others!
Tiffany, the "Redhead" who loves books on a panel discussion of "marketing" or in my case "What not to do online."
Spotted in the parking lot after the event.
