Fierce Dolan's Blog: Writing Utopia, One Word at a Time, page 16

Have you ever been DARED? Erotica Author, Kacey Hammell Wants the Truth!

A group of pals and I would dare one another a lot in high school.  Just simple things –

walk up to a guy and smooch his cheek
put a whoopee cushion on a teacher’s chair
call any phone number in the phone book and ask for “Simon” – didn’t matter that we didn’t know a Simon but that was part of the fun
find a pair of gym shoes and tie them to the basketball hoops – usually this was a pair of teacher’s shoes we’d find to do this
one friend had the audacity to dare me to flash some guy…Ummm, no thnx. That was so not me at all!

In college, I know people would take things into more risqué or crazy dares. I didn’t partake in any in college, but one I heard about from a classmate did make its way into Dare. LOL

So have you ever been Dared? If so, what was it (if you’re comfortable with sharing)?

About DARE

Legal secretary, Olivia Warner enjoys being single and, aside from her closest gal pals, usually keeps to herself. But the night of her thirty-fourth birthday, she and her friends spend a fun-filled evening at a local bar where her friends dare her to approach a man, and spend the night with him. Olivia’s not one to turn down a dare, especially from her old college pals. She only hopes the man in question is in for some good conversation, because that is all she’ll give him.

Darren “Dare” Shalvis has given up on women. He’s tired of being chased for his money, good looks, and prowess in bed. He prefers to meet a woman who, for once, wants nothing more from him than mere conversation. If only the woman asking him to spend the night with her wasn’t his favorite legal secretary.

Accepting a dare has never been so tempting…

From DARE

Excerpt © Kacey Hammell

She gave a small laugh and lifted the glass for a drink.

Dare watched her lips as she drank. He wondered what they’d taste like. It was something he’d considered many times lately.

He was drawn to her, but unsure he’d ever act on it.

Her whole demeanor said ‘hands off.’ And he wasn’t sure he was ready for the challenge.

“Tell me about it.”

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” As he turned on the stool, their knees brushed. Neither moved.

He thought he saw her eyes lit up. Perhaps Ms. Warner wasn’t as immune as he thought.

“My friends brought me here tonight for my birthday.”

“Happy birthday.”

She smiled. “Thank you. The jury’s still out whether it’s happy or not. My friends decided that as a present they’d get me a man.”  She blushed and reached for her drink.

“Go on.” Intriguing.

She set down her glass and continued, “They dared me. Dared me to find myself a man and spend the night with him.”

Women…who understood them? He’d only ever participated in dares when he was younger. He didn’t think anyone took them seriously anymore.

“And you need my help, how?” Dare’s heart rate accelerated. She wasn’t asking him to…

She stared up at him, her gaze steady. “I need you to spend the night with me.”

If he hadn’t heard it with his own ears, he wouldn’t have believed it. This night was the strangest he’d had in a long time. It was as if he’d been offered a million dollars on a silver platter.

Of course, he wanted to spend the night with her. He’d fantasized about it many times. He just wasn’t clear on what exactly she was asking. He didn’t want any misunderstandings. “Are you asking me to spend the night with you to…” Dare cleared his throat. “…be with you?”

“Oh! No, yes, I mean no. Dammit, I’ve screwed this up.”

“Relax.” He put a hand on her knee. “It’s okay. Let’s try this—do you want me to have sex with you?”

Olivia groaned. Dare love that sound, and heat filled his groin.

“No. Not to have sex. God, this is mortifying.” Olivia placed her hand over his where it still rested on her knee. “Just to spend the night together—a movie, hang out, whatever—until eight a.m., when the dare is over.”

Dare laughed. She talked so fast he could hardly keep up. He’d never seen her so animated before. He liked her flustered and breathless…a lot. He wondered if she looked and sounded like that during sex.

He couldn’t go that route. Not now.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. You want us to spend the night together—with no sex—until morning? All because of a dare? Why didn’t you just say no?”

“I can’t. In college, the five of us made a pact—in blood, for God’s sake—that we’d always be friends and never back down from a dare. Trust me, right now, I wish I’d never made it.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I can imagine how you feel.”

“I’m so tired after the day we had. This was the last thing I needed tonight.”

“Yeah, when I stopped by the office today you seemed a bit irritated.”

She sighed and ran her fingers over his hand. Dare was surprised how comfortable it felt to have their knees and hands touch. He didn’t think Olivia was even aware she caressed his hands…or wreaked havoc on his libido. If her innocent touches could send him into overdrive, he wondered what would happen if she put all she had into it.

“It was the day from hell. I just wanted to meet the girls for a few drinks, then head home to soak the day away.”

Dare grit his teeth and tried not to think of Olivia in a bathtub—water floating around her body, relaxed, languid. The image could send him over the edge.

“Well, you’re in luck. I’m your man for the night.”

Olivia smiled and her eyes danced.  “Thank you. I really appreciate it. The last thing I wanted to do was have to pick up some random guy. I’m so glad you were here.”

Pleased he could help her, Dare grinned. He realized he wanted to anything to put that carefree smile on her face.

“So.” He took a sip of his beer. “What do you want to do?”

She scowled. “Well, we could go back to my place. I have a spare room that you can crash in if you want.”

Surprised, Dare took in her flushed face. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah. We don’t exactly have to stay up all night. It’s still spending the night together, right?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, in a manner of speaking. Your friends weren’t specific.”

A smug smile crossed Olivia’s face. “No they weren’t. Which is a testament to how much they thought this through. I would have made a list of do’s and don’ts.”

They both laughed. Olivia had a naughty streak and he liked it. Liked it—and her—very much. A night with Olivia Warner wasn’t what he’d expected.

Sure, he’d thought of her in his bed often, writhing and moaning with passion, but he never thought fantasy would become a reality. He couldn’t let the opportunity go.

His buddies didn’t call him Dare for no reason. He could never resist a challenge.

He placed both hands on her shoulders, drew her gaze from her glass, and put his cards on the table.

“What if we have an agreement?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“For us to spend the night together, we should have some ground rules.”

“Ground rules?”

“I will spend the night with you. More than eager to do so, except one thing.”

“What’s that?” she whispered. He barely heard her but saw her lips move.

He wanted to taste them, desperately.

“I don’t want to sleep in any spare room.”

“You don’t?” She gawked at him.

Her expression was comical but Dare didn’t feel like laughing.

“No. I want to spend the night in your room.” Dare had her full attention. She stared at him, eyes wide. “In your bed.”

DARE  By Kacey Hammell

Contemporary Erotic Romance

Available at Evernight Publishing

Learn more about Kacey’s books via …

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Want to win a Starbucks Gift Card?  Kacey is giving one to a lucky winner!  Follow Kacey on Twitter, then leave a comment here that you did so, along with your @Name, and you’ll be entered to win! This giveaway is open to all. Winner will be drawn from those new Twitter followers on Sept 24.

Author, Morgan K. Wyatt on Engineers, the New Alpha Males

Most people don’t think of engineers as sexy romantic heroes. Did you know Leonardo DaVinci was an engineer? Engineers figure out how things work, then try to design a system to make them better. Karl Benz was an engineer and an inventor, plus the creator of the Benz automobile. Robert Fulton, an American Engineer, designed the first steamship, then the first steam-powered battleship, then finally the first practical submarine. Not only was he making it easier and faster to get places, but he was also protecting his countrymen. You don’t get much more alpha than that. Ferdinand Porsche, the inventor of the super sexy car is an engineer too. You can’t get much cooler than that.

American women have a bad attitude about engineers, because they aren’t obvious bad boys riding on a gas mixture of testosterone , promises, and alcohol. I imagine a few of the women who turned their nose up at Larry Page, the creator of Google, are kicking themselves right about now. Google is the best company to work for because of pay, perks, and just plain fun. Does this company sound like it is ran by a man who doesn’t understand what women want? His partner, Sergy Brin, is an engineer too. I hope I am changing your view of engineers.

Everyone agrees that a military man is a prime alpha male. Did you know that the Army Corp of Engineers goes ahead of the fighting forces to scope out the terrain, building bridges and roads. This isn’t an easy or a safe job. An engineer often has to be very physical in his line of work. Others rely more on logic and keyboards. Without engineers, you couldn’t take a train, plane, or even a car. There would be no cell phones, no computers, or even pantyhose. Engineers design everything from the treadmill you use at the health club to the elegant chair you perch on at your favorite coffee shop, as well as the cappuccino machine.

Think about what contributions your average bad boy makes, besides filling out a pair of jeans, and leaving a string of broken hearts behind. That’s why I chose to go with someone totally different for my hero in Unexpected Cougar, a soft-spoken engineer named Jackson. While attractive, Jackson doesn’t try to charm and dazzle the ladies. He’s a polite man who walks Elise out to her car, and waits until her wonky car starter catches. Since that’s not enough for him, he wants to make sure she gets the car fixed and recommends a mechanic. This is pure engineer. Jackson sees a problem and tries to fix it. Instead of plastering her against the car, and groping her, he tries to take care of her. Would you rather have a man who opens your car door or someone who gropes you while helping you with your coat?

Other women also have their eye on Jackson. Why not? He’s thoughtful, intelligent, courteous; all wrapped up in a nice package. What holds most engineers back from being dating chocolate? American women stereotype engineers as being dull and boring. Surprisingly women in other countries don’t feel this way. They realize an engineer makes a great husband. A much better deal than a player who really can’t settle down with one woman, no matter what promises he makes.

Why do I defend engineers so hard? There are quite a few in my family, but I fell in love with one too. My husband is the most romantic, thoughtful man I’ve ever met. He always opens my car door, brings me flowers, and listens to me ramble on about books and writing. Any heroine would be lucky to have such a man. That’s why I created Jackson.

Read Jackson’s dialogue carefully. Since my husband wrote the dialogue it’s pure engineer. Here’s an excerpt.

Another couple entered the dining room following the playful host. Elise gulped when she realized they were her clients. The same clients who believed she was happily married. Sitting here with Jackson would blow her story if they saw her. Sliding down in her seat and under the table might mean she’d have to tell Jackson about her sham marriage. Not a good idea, never sounding reasonable even if it made business sense. The best thing would be to hide her face by kissing Jackson. Yes.

She smiled at Jackson, calculating the closeness of the approaching couple. Placing both hands on his face, she swooped in for the kiss. Jackson who had just put a chip in his mouth, sputtered, but quickly swallowed. Elise kept her eyes open, tracking the couple through her hair until she felt Jackson’s lips move under hers. He kissed her back and did it very well. His firm lips softened under hers opening enough to allow the tip of his tongue to tickle her lips. Who knew engineers could be excellent kissers?

“Ah ya, ya, ya. Maybe you do not need margaritas,” the waiter teased when he approached their table.

Elise blinked, forgetting for a moment what her reasons were for kissing Jackson. The man managed effectively to destroy all rational thought processes. Instead, primal drives took over, and she knew which drive she wanted to fulfill. Her eyes moved over Jackson again. Why had she never noticed how he made her mouth water? His kiss certainly indicated interest. The waiter slid her margarita in front of her with a knowing smile. He walked away leaving the two encased in an awkward silence. Her eyes darted around to find the couple who orchestrated her impulsive action. The man faced his wife, but the wife’s eyes wandered around the room and met hers. Not good. What to do?

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Jackson inquired, touching her hand lightly to regain her attention. “I can leave if you want.”

“Are you kidding?” She turned back in surprise. “Why would I want you to leave? Remember I kissed you.”

Jackson blushed. She never had a clue men could blush, never seen it happen before. He looked down, back up at her, and a look of wonder crossed his face. He said softly, “I thought that’s what happened, but I wasn’t sure. First time a beautiful woman kissed me in a public place.”

“Really? Never?” Her voice’s timber mirrored her disbelief.

Jackson’s grin grew wider and more confident. “Trust me. I would remember being kissed in a public venue.”

“No, not that,” Elise began, but stopped, not knowing how to finish her question without sounding needy. The margarita beckoned in lieu of conversation. The frozen sweetness slid across her tongue and hit her throat with a belch of fire causing her to choke. Jackson immediately pounded her on the back until she managed to quit coughing.

“How much tequila did they put in there?” she managed to gasp out.

She sat her glass down carefully grateful she hadn’t spilt any after Jackson’s backslapping session. The man could deliver a powerful slap. He took a healthy swig of his drink. Maybe he was considering how she’d behaved since they had walked into restaurant. What happened to that cool, sophisticated woman? Instead, she angled for sweet nothings.

Jackson took two more sips before putting his drink down. “Tastes okay to me.” He picked up the glass again for an additional swallow. “Umm.” He cleared his throat once. “You are a beautiful woman.” He picked up his glass again after delivering his comment.

“Really?” Talk about being a dim bulb. Why couldn’t she come up with something more clever? Still, it had been a long time since someone told her she was beautiful. She just couldn’t remember who now. Jackson gulped his drink. Strange behavior. Did he regret calling her beautiful? Did he want to call the words back?

Before she could decide what he meant, the female half of her client couple walked by and gave her an arched look. Elise said nothing since she didn’t acknowledge her clients outside her office, which gave her an easy out. Knowing the woman was looking for a recipe for a happy marriage, she covered Jackson’s bare left hand with her right hand and squeezed it. She even leaned over and rubbed her cheek against his. Talk about improv.

He leaned into her before whispering. “I never expected such a lovely woman to ever talk to me. Let alone kiss me.”

“Hmm,” she offered, keeping her cheek next to his. His cologne teased her nose, making her guess at the components. Woodsy, touch of citrus, underlying musk.

The waiter appeared out of nowhere with his pad. “Have you decided on what you want?” he asked, while managing to make the question sound suggestive or maybe her mind twisted it into something salacious. Well, she definitely knew what she wanted.

“Fajitas, chicken.” She knew it took a while to make them, prolonging her time with a particularly delectable engineer. Jackson ordered the special featuring chicken in a mole sauce.

She’d never been overly affectionate. Pretty much her ex-husband’s words when he left for the other woman, correction, women. Sure, he’d been a player, probably still was, but she hadn’t felt the incredible hunger for him she currently felt for Jackson. She reached for her margarita glass, contemplating the shy engineer. Not a player, not a bad boy, not even a man who successfully picked up women, she’d bet. How did one manage a bashful guy? She probably scared him off with all her touching and kissing. He probably considered her some sex-starved cougar. Maybe it would help if she explained.

“Jackson, you do know I am not after your body.” Ugh, could she sound any worse? Not smooth.

His face fell, and the chip he was holding dropped to the table. “You’re not.” He sighed heavily. “You wanting me seemed too much like a dream.”

Unexpected Cougar is currently for sale at Amazon, SCP, Bookstrand, and Barnes and Noble.

A lucky commenter will get a Starbucks gift card and an e-copy of the book.

Meet Erotica Author, Elodie Parkes

Elodie Parkes is a hot writer from Canterbury, UK!  She stopped by to tell us a bit about her writing and what’s coming up for her!

I started writing when I was seventeen. I never did anything like submitting to publishers etc. until I was about twenty-five and then queried to no avail.  I started writing again seriously a couple of years ago because I had so many stories in my head.  I have published three erotic romance books to date and I am working on another book right now.  They are available on Amazon kindle. I love eBooks myself, and it’s rare now for me to buy a paperback or hardback.

I read heaps myself from across all types of genres.   For my own writing people and emotions inspire me. The complexity of life spurs me to write.  I find the world harsh. There’s not enough love in it. Lots of people never find love. I write love stories with happy endings to spread a little lightness around.

For instance my book Millie Reinvented was inspired through my day job.

I was talking to a young woman who was in the antiques shop where I work and she was buying a little sculpture of two lovers kissing. She said she had to have it because it was so nice to look at, as her husband didn’t even kiss her anymore. I couldn’t say anything I just wrapped the item, and stored the thought until the story burst out onto my laptop.

My books fall into the category of erotic romance because I do write the sex scenes graphically and that’s because I want the love the characters feel to show up properly in my stories.

I think too that readers have become used to reading more. They don’t want the description of the romance to stop at the bedroom door.

My latest release The Horoscope Writer was inspired by signs along a country road when I was out driving one day in another county.

The main characters just started to flow into my head and by the time I had driven home, which was a three hour journey through the countryside, I had the book and characters completely ready.   My books do contain graphic sex in the love scenes but they are love scenes, romantic, and the characters are driven by love.

About The Horoscope Writer

Dominic Reed, the horoscope writer is desperate for love. He is a lonely soul, living in the country on a funny country lane where a few artisan’s workshops are.   He doesn’t know he has never had deep love until he suddenly finds it with Cassie. It ignites a sexual passion in him he didn’t know he could feel.

From The Horoscope Writer

“Can I get you anything Cassie? Coffee?”

She smiled at him thinking he had perhaps changed his mind about going to bed together.

“Okay coffee is good” she answered.

Dominic washed his hands and made coffee. Cassie watched him.

“If you’ve changed your mind Dominic it’s okay”, she told him. It was what Dominic needed.

He went to her and held her head to kiss her. The kiss was like nectar to Cassie and she began to put her hand up inside his sweater to reach his skin. Dominic held her head with one hand kissing her almost desperately as he used the other hand to unzip her jeans and push them down her thighs. Cassie unzipped his jeans. Dominic felt almost lightheaded, he couldn’t stop kissing her, and he put his hand down inside her underwear to press his palm against her lower stomach.

Cassie gasped and searched for a way to lower his jeans and feel his hard bottom. She felt his fingers reach her entrance and she parted her legs a little so that he could push them into her.

Dominic’s voice was a whisper.

“Cassie let’s go to bed. I want to feel you naked against me. I need you”.

She nodded slightly as his face was still against hers. She moaned involuntarily as he took his fingers from her.

Dominic took her jacket, and put it over the back of a kitchen chair.

Cassie pulled her jeans up leaving them unzipped.

Dominic held her hand to lead her up to his bedroom. The staircase was surprisingly wide, and they could walk up there side by side. Dominic’s room was at the end of the landing, and he pushed the door open with the side of his body as he turned to hold Cassie again and kiss her.

Somehow, though it wasn’t clear how to either of them when they thought about it later, they undressed, and lay clasped against each other on the bed breathing into each other’s mouths when the sensation of being skin to skin overwhelmed them for a few moments.

Dominic traced his fingers down her stomach reaching her entrance to find she was wet for him. His lips found hers and their tongues touched gently as his fingers began to work magic on Cassie. She moved against his palm and made little sounds into his kiss as she reached for him. He thrust into her hands and they both groaned with need.

“Cassie wait I’ll find a condom”, he said, as she began to whisper her need to him.

“Dominic I need you inside me now”, she whispered over, and over as she kissed him.

Her hands felt cool on him and he was still thrusting his hips as he moved his fingers in her. Cassie was close to coming and she kissed Dominic shaking a little against his lips.

“Dominic I’m going to—”. He knew, and he decided to give her that first.

He kissed her tenderly and moved his thumb over her bud, his fingers deep inside her. “Cassie I know, let go, do it”, he whispered, and left his lips soft against her mouth as she moaned and thrust on his fingers coming. It seemed to last a long time and Dominic liked that. He looked at her with love as she finally opened her eyes and smiled a little at him.

He wanted to be inside her and he reached over her to the drawer in the bedside table to find a condom. He couldn’t find one, and because he was kissing Cassie as she stroked his erection, he stopped kissing her to look into the drawer. Cassie took the opportunity to move down his body and take him into her mouth. She felt his intake of breath as she did it and held his hips still before moving a hand to hold him low on his shaft and suck him.

Dominic let the feeling of complete pleasure soothe his worry about not finding a condom. He held Cassie’s head gently with his hands in her hair. As he looked down at her, Cassie shifted her body and moved her leg over his so that he could feel her entrance wet against the top of his shin. Her hair fell over his lower stomach. She was doing amazing things with her tongue and his gaze fell on the lovely curve of her bottom and length of her satiny thighs. Dominic felt his orgasm rise up from his thighs as Cassie’s hair feathered across them. The sensation rippled up him all the way to his lips and he groaned. Cassie kept him in her mouth until she knew he had completely finished. She had never known quite what to do with the mouthful of seed and this seemed like such a lot. Without thinking too much about it she swallowed and then kissed up his stomach and chest until she nuzzled against his throat.

Dominic could feel her moving gently against his thigh and sighed at the pleasure it gave him to feel her damp entrance on his skin.

“Cassie”, he whispered, as she sucked a little at the base of his throat.

She waited.

“Cassie”, he whispered again, and he lifted her gently up so that her head was level with his. He kissed her tenderly and then kept her cuddled against him. They both closed their eyes and lay quietly together until they slept for a short time.

Elodie’s Bio

Elodie lives in Canterbury, United Kingdom. It’s famous for the Cathedral, Chaucer, and there is a UNESCO world heritage site, which includes the ancient ruins of St Augustine’s Abbey and St Martin’s Church. There is also a ruined castle. It’s a pretty place too and the coast nearby is great.

She works in an antiques shop and writes. Elodie has two dogs that keep her fit with their need for walks.

Elodie writes romance, contemporary and always erotic with a twist of mystery, paranormal, and suspense now and then. She likes to make the story unusual in some way, by a quirk in the tale

Find Elodie online:

http://www.facebook.com/ElodieParkes

https://twitter.com/ElodieParkes

http://elodieparkes.blogspot.co.uk

https://plus.google.com/u/0/100127

http://www.facebook.com/elodie.parkes.1

Find my books:

http://www.amazon.com/Millie-Reinvent...

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Millie-Reinve...

http://www.amazon.com/Two-of-Them-ebo...

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Two-of-Them-e...

Buy The Horoscope Writer at:

Amazon

Amazon UK

Fierce Featured on Romance Author Hotspot

I got to be the special party-guest on Romance Author Hotspot!  Thanks, Clarissa Yip,  for having me!!

Two-Spirits and Third Gender

 

For years I’ve been fascinated with a reference to androgyny that’s most often attributed to Native American cultures.  Given that most of what seeps into mainstream knowledge about indigenous traditions is wrong, I’m willing to stand corrected on this one, as well.  However, from what I’ve studied, within some tribes is what’s called a “two-spirit” path, or biogendered men who take on the role of women.  Other indigenous cultures have observed such a third, or between-gender role, as well.  Two-spirits are usually considered deeply intuitively gifted and rise as spiritual leaders in their culture.  Not considered male, though not exactly female either, they carry the duties usually ascribed women and may marry a man in their tribe.

In my newly released short story, Traveler Through Darkness, from Decadent Publishing’s The Edge series, I envisioned Wo, a young Navajo man, as a two-spirit.  While he’s not decked out in a corset and stilettos (although it could happen), he’s very clearly embraced aspects himself that are both out-and-proud, is wise beyond his youth, and is comfortable with being an empowered, effeminate man in a patriarchal culture.  In contrast, he meets the older Tarik, a Middle Eastern man from a culture fatally against homosexuality, let alone the blurring of biogender roles.

They’re a good fit for each other—this very traditional man suppressing deep-seated desires, and Wo, the two-spirit who helps him acknowledge them.  Their joining, itself, expresses how we can all overcome limitations, push beyond boundaries, into new, undefined territory.

What are your thoughts on third gender?  Are there possibly more genders?  How would you describe them?

On Traveler

A lifetime of want collides with fate the night of Tarik’s bachelor party, fulfilling his deepest secret desire—only it’s not with the strippers his Arab friends hired to cater to his every whim. Uncomfortable with the debauched festivities, Tarik ducks out of the soirée, stumbling into Wo, a kind Navajo artist, who forces him to say what he really wants, then gives it to him, all night.

Enjoy Traveler Through Darkness along with the Reader’s Guide!

Originally published on Romance Author Hotspot, 31 August 2012.

Follow Fierce on:

Twitter:    @fiercedolan

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Website:    www.fiercedolan.com

The Quandry of Susan – In Which I Offer Manuscript Crits Instead of Book Reviews as a Solution

You guys know “The Problem of Susan, ” yes?  For those who don’t, the phrase refers to decades-long criticism of the handling of the eldest sibling, Susan Pevensie, from C.S. Lewis The Chronicls of Narnia series.  Readers recognized right away that she got a raw deal when Lewis steered her from the intrigue, wonder and passion of Narnia, toward adulthood, lipstick, and boys.  The question that was never settled sufficiently in devotees’ minds was “Why?”

Canon text left Susan hanging, and not in a way that flattered either her or Lewis. Was it because it was realistic that Lewis show one of the kids turning away?  Because Susan wasn’t worthy of carrying both imagination and reality at the same time?  Because Lewis, himself, couldn’t grasp the complex sexuality of a young girl verging into womanhood, thus he couldn’t fully write her story?  No one knows, but the lack remains a glaring omission to the Narnia readership, still.  Even Neil Gaiman broached the subject in his short story, “The Problem of Susan,” though he no more resolved the young woman’s quandry–a fate well-described in this Tmblr post.

I wholly think the word ‘quandry’ better addresses the situation, because where the word ‘problem’ only indicates to raise questions about, ‘quandry’ goes a step further, expressing uncertainty over how to find a solution.  In other words, it means resolution is desired. To those concerned, the issue is a sore wound.

I realize this is all subjective, and for some, such quandries as ‘Susan’ are trifling points. I support that argument, though in this era of book reviews for visibility, how do you deal with otherwise great works that have a glaring plot hole?  What can you do to right in your mind, an otherwise engaging piece of literature?  Writing satisfying fanfic only soothes so far. Do you tell the author? If so, what do you say? How do you say it? As an author, how do you internalize such gaffs to better your writing? As a reader, how do you resolve the unresolved?

These questions are what bother me most and leave me convinced that such meticulous scrutiny of plot points or characterization isn’t a problem, but a quandry for which there is a solution. Writing is insular, but publishing is not. Anyone who’s endeavored there–even indie or self-published authors (if they’re doing it right) knows that getting a manuscript from pages to book is a collective process. It involves a string of talent, each bringing expertise to the page that if working properly, catches those kinds of shortcomings. For that reason, when I’m reviewing a book I don’t fault the author for otherwise well-written work. I fault the collective process that brought it to publication.

If a book is just terribly constructed from the beginning, I don’t hesitate to say so in my reviews. In fact, it kind of pisses me off to read a book that is just awfully written (that’s another rant). I’m not talking about horrific books that never should have seen ink. I’m referring to otherwise original, well-crafted literature, that fell down somewhere in the final phase of production. It’s the ones that just barely miss the mark of a cohesive work with subtle breaches like head-hopping, unresolved major arcs, dense backstory in chunky dialogue… Even a slip of those I can hold, but when one or a combo of those oversights repeat to form a blindspot in the writing, it detracts from my enjoyment of the story. Those are the ones that keep me up at night, and they run the gamut, from best-selling international names, to indie authors on SmashWords. And the drop is [almost] always in the final stages of writing, a rushed ending after careful construction of twisting plots, intriguing characters, wrenching conflicts. The care taken in the setup just isn’t there in the resolution.

Why? No crit partners? Are a lot of indie authors unwilling to pay out for solid editing? Are a lot of traditionally published authors unwilling to hold their contracted editing team to the fire on edits? Do authors reach a point that they just want the book published and just don’t give a shit? I don’t know, although I totally understand each of those scenarios. In the end, the writing is what shows it.

I really don’t read a lot–I don’t have time to–but when I do, I get very involved with the execution, the mechanics, the characters.   I think like an editor more than mere pleasure reading can abide, and I always post reviews across various site.  And…  it’s not working for me.  I’m putting the quiatus on reviewing books. I’m not saying I will never review a book again, because that’s not a solution, it’s an excuse.  I want to be part of what attracts an audience to a great thing.  I am, however, asserting, that for me, a solution to the quandry is to be part of an author’s crit phase, where my input is actually useful, can help shape a project for the better, before-the-fact. Instead of rating an author down on the completion for something that may not have been the her fault (though in the end that’s who’s blamed), I’d rather be a productive part of the process.  It’s just too easy to give my 2 cents after the blood, sweat, and tears.

I understand that the way the industry is formed right now, we authors rely partly on book reviews to draw readers.  We ask various folks to review our work, but why, exactly?  To improve our ratings, or to improve our writing?  Do we really want to know what people think after our words are cast into stone?  What good does it really do, in the end?  Can we be honest enough with ourselves to say?

So, I’m not doing as many reviews as I have been. That doesn’t mean I am disinterested in reading your book–you can always ask.  What I’m saying–offering even– is that I would rather be part of your success along the road to publication and not a shaper of your statistics , after. I’d rather expend my energy on your crit rather than suffering the vantage point of 3.5 instead of 5 stars.

 

 

~*~*~*~

Fierce is author of the newly released Traveler Through Darkness, part of The Edge series from Decadent Publishing.

Steampunk Under the Sea with Nishi Serrano’s Mile Below Peep Show

Steampunk lovers, meet scriptorian, Nishi Serrano, a new Decadent Publishing author!

The sun is shining across the water sending sparkles to the horizon. Under the shade of an umbrella and lounging on a chair in my bathing dress, I read one of Rose’s books of naughties. I giggle.

Hmm, I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m a traveler, and not just an ordinary traveler, but one of time and alternate worlds—no I’m not a time lord, but would love to meet one! Rose is a character I met on one of my adventures, and we’ve become quite close. She divulges her secrets to me so that I may write them down for you, the readers in my world, to enjoy. She’s a member of a secret club known as the Mile High Airship Club. Being a member has its advantages. You get invited to all manner of interesting shindigs, usually erotic in nature. Her most recent foray was a vacation at the Mile Below resort under the sea, and what a tale she spun! Delicious mermen, exotic peep shows, cocktails, a lusty labyrinth, and all manner of sexual follies wound themselves into a mouthwatering novella that is sure to put a blush on your cheek.

What I find amusing is, recently, I perused the Internet to search for underwater resorts and came up pretty empty handed. The only one comparable to the breathtaking Mile Below on Rose’s planet is The Poseidon Resort. I had no idea this resort existed while I was writing ‘Mile Below Peep Show’, but it closely resembles the resort in the story.

So, if you desire an exotic steampunk vacation under the sea that doesn’t cost thousands of dollars, I invite you to pick up a copy of Mile Below Peep Show, and dive right in!

 Cheers,

Nishi Serrano

“Creating worlds imaginative enough to hold the unexplored …”

Mile Below Peep Show is available at Decadent Publishing on 29 August.  Find it at most online book retailers:  B&N, Amazon, Bookstrand, Smashwords, and many more.

Visit Nishi at these sites:

@NishiSerrano
On Facebook

Fierce Dolan Interviewed on Interracial Erotica

This week I had the pleasure of being the Hotspot Tuesday feature on Interracial and Multicultural Books with Mahalia Levey

Where do you draw inspiration from to write in the IR or MC niche?

I’m always interested in the story that’s not being told, and there aren’t many people writing about Middle Eastern men as romantic leads. Called “desert romances” back in the day, Middle Eastern men haven’t been widely featured in fiction since the mid 1900s, as sheiks and mysterious dark princes. With all of the focus now on scrutinizing their cultures and how they fit into the modern world, I found it a good time to explore how that dynamic would impact relationships.

What do you find the most difficult to write? Dialogue? Back story? Emotion?

Back story, without doubt. I find it challenging to weave important details of the past , actively into the present. I see how the two connect in the overall context, but it’s not always pretty getting them to fit together in a way that’s pleasant to read. I’ve got some work to do, there.

Have you ever found that you didn’t like your Hero or your Heroine? If so, what did you do to change that?

Wow. Good question! I don’t think authors talk enough about characters they don’t like, because we so often are moved to write about them because we like them. Definitely, the hero in my upcoming book 1 of the Scattered Dark series, Journal of a Lycanthrophile, Jesse, I’m not so crazy about. He’s not a bad guy at all, and he has a good heart. But he embodies that typical American young male dufus mindset that’s been privileged and doesn’t really get how his actions affect others. I’m eager to see him grow into a more mature, intentional hero, rather than an accidental one. That novella should be out just in time for spooky season this year!

Do you write full time, what is your schedule for the day? Or do you have a full time job, if so, when do you find the time to write?

I am a technical writer by trade, so yes I write full-time and it is my job. But I also write nonfiction and fiction books. I’m always writing. It’s harder to carve out time to write fiction, though. I find that my technical and nonfiction writing have a logical linear progression, I just have to sit down and get it out of my head. I don’t have to figure out where it’s going, I just need to get it out. Fiction, though, requires a lot more scheming and research, and that slows down the writing process, initially. It takes a lot more work, in that regard, so I’m slower to turn out fiction than the other forms of writing.

What has been the biggest challenge of your career?

Staying connected to writing for the love of writing. It’s easy to have ambition and fall into the trap of measuring what I think success should look like. When I do that, though, I find I’m furthest from enjoying writing. It’s all about the joy of writing, and the rest is what it is.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? If you are a plotter, what are you methods?

Both. I sketch out the broad characteristics of a plot, but I’m comfortable with letting it tell itself. Sometimes I have this end of the plot and that end, but I’m not sure how to get them together. That’s where most of the pantsing comes in. And it works. I find that when I get out of the way and stop worrying about how it fits, things naturally come together.

How have your techniques for character development changed since you’ve been writing? Is it still the same, or has it developed over time, if so how?

They really haven’t. That’s one area where I’ve always been fairly strong. I have a clear sense of who my characters are and where they need to go, from the start. I leave open opportunities for them to tell me how they want to develop, and it works.

Do you have a book coming out? If so what? Do you have a web site? Do you have a blog? My space?

My first contribution to Decadent Publishing’s The Edge series is out this month—Traveler Through Darkness. It’s a gay interracial erotica short story, and I’m excited to have it available. I’ve written gay erotica for a long time, though this is the first that has been published.

What do you do to relax?

To what?

Do you have hobbies?

I have a sad lack of hobbies. I stay so busy that when I’m not working I’m either asleep or distracting myself with The Vampire Diaries. Maybe that’s a hobby? I didn’t expect to become interested in it, but it’s got some interesting hooks. Although ,I’m Team Damon-Elena-Stefan. I don’t have a lot of time for love triangles who can’t all hook up. This is the modern era. Polyamory, FTW!

What are some books on your keeper shelf?

The Hunger Games series—the first book, anyway. I’m on the fence about the others. Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman. Storm Constantine’s Wreaththu series. LOVED it!! There’s a pattern there. Maybe I need to write some dystopian fiction…

Are there any other genres you’d like to try your hand at?

I’ve got a New Adult/Magickal Realism novel making rounds. I’m most comfortable writing in an arena that is a little magickal, grounded in day-to-day details, so I’m really excited about this novel. I hope it finds a home, soon.

What are your networking links so readers may find you?

Frolic with Fierce on:

Facebook
@FierceDolan
Google+
Goodreads
Amazon

On Traveler Through Darkness

A lifetime of want collides with fate the night of Tarik’s bachelor party, fulfilling his deepest secret desire—only it’s not with the strippers his Arab friends hired to cater to his every whim. Uncomfortable with the debauched festivities, Tarik ducks out of the soirée, stumbling into Wo, a kind Navajo artist, who forces him to say what he really wants, then gives it to him, all night.

From Traveler Through Darkness

“I am so sorry–” Tarik began.

“It’s okay. It was an accident.” The words were rushed as he pulled the soaked sweatshirt from his skin and fanned the dripping tablet. Black smudges coated the fingertips and heel of his left hand.

“I’ve ruined your work,” Tarik lamented, motioning toward the pad.

“Oh, no. It’s just a sketch. I was fascinated with the moonlight on the harbor.” He flashed a charcoal rendering of the midnight water. A long, shimmering black strand fell forward of the band securing his hair, lighting just at the edge of his upturned mouth. “No masterpiece here.”

Piercing umber eyes met Tarik’s, and the gentle smile relaxed his shoulders. “You were in the ballroom earlier.”

“Mmm. The bachelor party.”

Tarik pursed his lips, nodding once. “I’m staying in the hotel. Allow me to get for you a clean shirt.”

“It’s fine. I don’t have far to go.”

“In this cold, with no jacket, you will freeze. Please. I insist—”

“What’s your name?” the younger man asked.

“I am Tarik.” He bowed.

“I’m Wo.” He nodded. “Thank you for your kind offer, Tarik.”

Enjoy Traveler Through Darkness along with the Reader’s Guide.

Originally published on Interracial and Multicultural Books.

Meet Author Jenn Nixon…

Jenn Nixon’s New Release, Lucky’s Charm

Finally seeing The Dark Knight Rises got me thinking. I’ve always loved Batman as a character. From the 60’s Adam West version to the cartoon versions, yes, I even didn’t mind George Clooney’s nipple Batman. Whatever incarnation he’s in, I love him. He’s flawed. He’s un-super. He’s human.

While watching the new movie, I realized that Lucky is very similar to Batman. They each lost both parents, became a type of vigilante…whereas Batman never killed anyone, Lucky has, which takes a heavy toll on the psyche.

So how do you take a character like that and give them a romance and a possible happy ending? Pair them up with someone similar. Kenji showed up way too early in the novel but he turned out to be a very important character in the following books. This is how it all began:

About Lucky’s Charm

To protect her family and find a killer, Felicia “Lucky” Fascino assumed her adoptive father’s identity and joined the network, an organization of moral assassins to finish the job he began. Eliminating the man responsible for murdering her mother has consumed her for the last five years. While keeping her Uncle Stephen and cousin Elizabeth at arm’s length, Lucky begins to feel the weight of her career choice and reclusive lifestyle. Then a chance encounter with an enigmatic hit man, during one of her jobs, turns into a provocative and dangerous affair. Distracted by the secret trysts with Kenji Zinn and mounting tension within her family, Lucky makes reckless mistakes that threaten her livelihood and almost claim her life.

Excerpt

By midnight, she was wandering the half-deserted, glacial streets of Manhattan, looking for a place to drink.

Lucky found a decent bar with a large front window. She drank a gin and tonic, loathing the creatures of the night living their lives. At one time, long ago, she’d been just like them, enjoying her youth. Now, she just sneered at their happiness and tried to numb the jealousy.

After her second drink, she tapped Shoukan’s number into her cell phone and then erased it. If she did that, he’d have access to her.

Lucky ordered a third drink.

Her eyesight blurred from the mix of her fourth drink and adrenaline. It was a destructive combination. That’s what she got for being a lightweight and drinking right after a job. Thinking the cold air might help, she paid her tab and took to the streets. When she got to the end of the block, Lucky retrieved her cell phone. She tapped in the number from memory and stared at the screen. Shoving it in her pocket, she trudged to the end of the next block and paused at the light. Everything remained hazy. She felt completely wired and drunk.

Lucky crossed street after street, attempting to sober up and not to think of him. Those eyes, the way they stared at her, into her. She stopped to admire a large, red sculpture and pulled the phone out again. Opening it, the screen lit up with his number.

Her thumb hit send. She cursed under her breath, lifting the phone to her ear. It rang once. The line stopped ringing before she hung up. If he was there, he didn’t say anything. Had he given her his handler’s number? Or a fake one? Was she that gullible? She heard him breathing and leaned against a building.

Lucky shuddered. “I’ve been drinking.”

“I have been thinking…of you,” he said softly through the phone as if he was miffed she hadn’t contacted him earlier.

“I shouldn’t have called.”

“Yet you did.”

One drink…it can’t hurt, right? She shut her eyes. “Are you still in the city?”

“Yes,” he said instantly. “I wish to see you.” His voice sparked another shiver down her spine.

“Why?”

“For the same reasons you called me.”

“I’m drunk, I have an excuse.”

“No, you drank to create one.”

Lucky drew a painful, jagged breath. She bit her bottom lip, gripped the phone, and opened her eyes. “I just want to take you up on that offer for a drink.”

“That is not what you want.”

Her hand trembled. It was true. Right now, she wanted him. He tore through four years of solitude and read her like an open book after thirty minutes of contact. That intrigued her. It was also hazardous.

“What do you want?” she eventually asked in a hushed tone.

“You, Lucky.”

Oh shit. The way he said her name started a fire. This one was too strong to put out alone. The logical side of her brain shut off. “Where are you staying?”

“The Wolcott on Thirty-First.” It may have been her imagination, but he seemed to be breathing faster too.

“What room?” She began walking in the opposite direction.

“Three ten.”

“I have my knife with me.”

“You will not need it,” he murmured.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” She needed and deserved this; it was about time she cashed in. Lucky clicked the phone off and silenced it. She shoved it in her coat pocket and went straight to the hotel.

About Jenn Nixon

Jenn’s love of writing started the year she received her first diary and Nancy Drew novel. Throughout her teenage years, she kept a diary of her personal thoughts and feelings but graduated from Nancy Drew to other mystery suspense novels.

Jenn often adds a thriller and suspense element to anything she writes be it Romance, Science Fiction, or Fantasy. When not writing, she spends her time reading, observing pop culture, playing with her two dogs, and working on various charitable projects in her home state of New Jersey.

JennNixon.com
Facebook
Blogspot
@jennnixon

Blog Hop – GLBTQ Literature and the Soulsexual

I’m participating in the Rainbow Book Reviews Blog Hop 24-26 August, and for it participants are to write a post along the lines of ‘What Writing GLBTQ Literature Means to Me.’ Personally, I always add “P” to that configuration, as in “GLBTQP,”because I feel that the polyamorous lifestyle isn’t regarded, still marginalized in both mainstream and queer populations, despite that for many it is indeed an orientation. It’s a pride thing. House rules aside, to me writing shades of queer literature isn’t just about what label you choose to go with, or how you differentiate yourself. It’s the ultimate embracing of All Things. It’s the closest expression, at a purely people level, of an animistic worldview, which for an erotica writer can only mean–soulsexual.

Animism is the awareness that all things have a soul, that all souls are equal and interconnected, thus they can communicate with each other. Does sexual orientation imply a certain spirituality? No, I’m sure for many it doesn’t, although for me it does. I’ve often referred to myself as soulsexual, attraction to a soul rather than a person. In terms of writing, this orientation is the ultimate open and unbridled exploration of relationships. There are absolutely no limits.

Sometimes this degree of openness is too much for the mainstream fiction reader, because the tropes many romance writers hang their hats on no longer hold up under this orientation. With soulsexuality there doesn’t have to be a jealous, love triangle. Affairs don’t have to happen. There doesn’t have to be a possessive mate. Erotica writers don’t tend to fall into those relationship traps, employing unbridled sexual expression to suspend the necessary coddling of feelings or taking of moral high ground.

Generally speaking, though, we’ve been conditioned not just artistically, but socially and culturally to believe that these dramas must be components of relationships. As a result, we expect them to be part of our literary entertainment. In fact, most readers enjoy these tropes becauseof the drama they inflict.

Does that have to mean all characters are hunky-dory, perfectly well-adjusted, and on Stepford Prozac? Not at all. There’s still plenty of drama to be had in relationships based on attraction beyond the form. What if drama was moved by the plot, not the interpersonal dynamics? What if relationships could still be smoking ,and tested in the mettle of day-to-day theatrics based on characters’ lives, skills, circumstances, rather than who they’re banging?

For me, taking away the classic relationship tropes is part of GLBTQ writing, opening an entirely new horizon for creative freedom. We don’t have to write the same old power struggles and gender roles. We don’t have to create cultures wherein certain groups are marginalized. And we can still write characters across the range of perfection and flaws, as wide as we can imagine. We can invent characters and dynamics completely based on our own rules, not the ones we’ve accepted.

If you are 18 or older, comment here to be entered into a random drawing for a copy of my newly released Traveler Through Darkness, part of Decadent Publishing’s The Edge series. Check out the free Reader’s Guide, as you enjoy the story. The drawing will be 27 August, and I will contact the winner via email–so don’t forget to include how to contact you in your comment.

About Traveler Through Darkness

A lifetime of want collides with fate the night of Tarik’s bachelor party, fulfilling his deepest secret desire—only it’s not with the strippers his Arab friends hired to cater to his every whim. Uncomfortable with the debauched festivities, Tarik ducks out of the soirée, stumbling into Wo, a kind Navajo artist, who forces him to say what he really wants, then gives it to him, all night.

Visit more stops along the Rainbow Book Reviews Blog.

Meet Author Jenn Nixon…

Jenn Nixon’s New Release, Lucky’s Charm

Finally seeing The Dark Knight Rises got me thinking. I’ve always loved Batman as a character. From the 60’s Adam West version to the cartoon versions, yes, I even didn’t mind George Clooney’s nipple Batman. Whatever incarnation he’s in, I love him. He’s flawed. He’s un-super. He’s human.

While watching the new movie, I realized that Lucky is very similar to Batman. They each lost both parents, became a type of vigilante…whereas Batman never killed anyone, Lucky has, which takes a heavy toll on the psyche.

So how do you take a character like that and give them a romance and a possible happy ending? Pair them up with someone similar. Kenji showed up way too early in the novel but he turned out to be a very important character in the following books. This is how it all began:

About Lucky’s Charm

To protect her family and find a killer, Felicia “Lucky” Fascino assumed her adoptive father’s identity and joined the network, an organization of moral assassins to finish the job he began. Eliminating the man responsible for murdering her mother has consumed her for the last five years. While keeping her Uncle Stephen and cousin Elizabeth at arm’s length, Lucky begins to feel the weight of her career choice and reclusive lifestyle. Then a chance encounter with an enigmatic hit man, during one of her jobs, turns into a provocative and dangerous affair. Distracted by the secret trysts with Kenji Zinn and mounting tension within her family, Lucky makes reckless mistakes that threaten her livelihood and almost claim her life.

Excerpt

By midnight, she was wandering the half-deserted, glacial streets of Manhattan, looking for a place to drink.

Lucky found a decent bar with a large front window. She drank a gin and tonic, loathing the creatures of the night living their lives. At one time, long ago, she’d been just like them, enjoying her youth. Now, she just sneered at their happiness and tried to numb the jealousy.

After her second drink, she tapped Shoukan’s number into her cell phone and then erased it. If she did that, he’d have access to her.

Lucky ordered a third drink.

Her eyesight blurred from the mix of her fourth drink and adrenaline. It was a destructive combination. That’s what she got for being a lightweight and drinking right after a job. Thinking the cold air might help, she paid her tab and took to the streets. When she got to the end of the block, Lucky retrieved her cell phone. She tapped in the number from memory and stared at the screen. Shoving it in her pocket, she trudged to the end of the next block and paused at the light. Everything remained hazy. She felt completely wired and drunk.

Lucky crossed street after street, attempting to sober up and not to think of him. Those eyes, the way they stared at her, into her. She stopped to admire a large, red sculpture and pulled the phone out again. Opening it, the screen lit up with his number.

Her thumb hit send. She cursed under her breath, lifting the phone to her ear. It rang once. The line stopped ringing before she hung up. If he was there, he didn’t say anything. Had he given her his handler’s number? Or a fake one? Was she that gullible? She heard him breathing and leaned against a building.

Lucky shuddered. “I’ve been drinking.”

“I have been thinking…of you,” he said softly through the phone as if he was miffed she hadn’t contacted him earlier.

“I shouldn’t have called.”

“Yet you did.”

One drink…it can’t hurt, right? She shut her eyes. “Are you still in the city?”

“Yes,” he said instantly. “I wish to see you.” His voice sparked another shiver down her spine.

“Why?”

“For the same reasons you called me.”

“I’m drunk, I have an excuse.”

“No, you drank to create one.”

Lucky drew a painful, jagged breath. She bit her bottom lip, gripped the phone, and opened her eyes. “I just want to take you up on that offer for a drink.”

“That is not what you want.”

Her hand trembled. It was true. Right now, she wanted him. He tore through four years of solitude and read her like an open book after thirty minutes of contact. That intrigued her. It was also hazardous.

“What do you want?” she eventually asked in a hushed tone.

“You, Lucky.”

Oh shit. The way he said her name started a fire. This one was too strong to put out alone. The logical side of her brain shut off. “Where are you staying?”

“The Wolcott on Thirty-First.” It may have been her imagination, but he seemed to be breathing faster too.

“What room?” She began walking in the opposite direction.

“Three ten.”

“I have my knife with me.”

“You will not need it,” he murmured.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.” She needed and deserved this; it was about time she cashed in. Lucky clicked the phone off and silenced it. She shoved it in her coat pocket and went straight to the hotel.

About Jenn Nixon

Jenn’s love of writing started the year she received her first diary and Nancy Drew novel. Throughout her teenage years, she kept a diary of her personal thoughts and feelings but graduated from Nancy Drew to other mystery suspense novels.

Jenn often adds a thriller and suspense element to anything she writes be it Romance, Science Fiction, or Fantasy. When not writing, she spends her time reading, observing pop culture, playing with her two dogs, and working on various charitable projects in her home state of New Jersey.

JennNixon.com
Facebook
Blogspot
@jennnixon