Liv Rancourt's Blog, page 14

Where Do You Get Your Ideas?

I accidentally double-booked myself, so I'm going to be a bit of a brat and give you a taste of the post here, with a jump to the Relentless Writers, my group blog for the rest of it. Please bear (bare?) with me and make the jump, but keep an eye out over here because very soon I'm going to have a happy announcement about my contemporary romance King Stud...)

Where do you get your ideas?


I'm a writer. People ask me that. And when they ask, I want to do this...


Yeah Ke$ha, I don't know either.

Because tearing my hair out is easier than trying to explain how I come up with my ideas. Take my current project...
Jack rides his bike from Portland to Seattle in January because his maybe-ex-boyfriend's mom is in the hospital and he doesn't want to accept the gift of an airplane ticket. Will his stubborn streak end things for good, or can he and Gregory find a way to rekindle their love?
As hard as it is to summarize a 200 page story in fifty words, it's even harder to explain how I came up with it in the first place. Most people who aren't writers (or artists, or musicians, or participants in any other kind of creative endeavor) think ....

Ah yes, to learn what most people think, you'll have to jump HERE. Thanks for playing along...

Gratuitous Prince. Because, Prince.

Beefcake: Then and Now

Burt Reynolds' notorious Cosmo Magazine centerfold from April, '72
It occurred to me recently that a good deal of my social media presence is NSFW. For example, there's an author I follow on Facebook who maintains a private page wherein, twice a day, 365 days a year, she posts pictures of nearly-naked men. And some of them skip the 'nearly'.

And Sunday is Peen Day.

I'm going to let your imagination take care of that one.

My Pinterest stream is loaded with masculine beauty. I figure it's an occupational hazard of being a romance writer. Some of the pictures are just pretty to look at, but some can be quite inspiring. I wrote a whole book - and potentially a series - because I needed to tell the story of the guy with the bird tattoo.


Eric Dane - source unknown
Also, I'm pretty sure this young man with the dark hair and tatts is Joey, younger brother of Ryan from King Stud. (Okay, yeah, he's not really Joey. His name is Atle Petterson, and he's from Norway's X-Games. Jump HERE to read more about him - but make sure your googletranslate is working, because the article is in Norwegian. But the pictures are pretty.)


http://www.kjendis.no/2011/10/26/kjen...
Between authors posting photos to Facebook and Pinterest, and photographers like Michael Stokes sharing their work on Facebook and Twitter, I sometimes think that buffed young men could give cat pix a run for their money for internet popularity.

But has it always been this way?

I actually did a google search, looking for some scholarly paper that might explain why it seems we're having something of a heyday for photographing men. The closest I came (and I might not have looked that hard) was the Wikipedia definition of 'beefcake', where they state that while the cheesecake pictures of women were always more popular, as far back as the 1920s some actors were designated beefcake and photographed with their shirts off.


The Bergland Brothers vintage beefcake - www.fanpop.com 
And then there were men who were photographed for the enjoyment of other men. Because I don't think teenage girls from my mother's generation hid these beauties in their high school lockers.



Forrester Millard and John Tristam photographed by the Althletic Model Guildhttp://malemodelsvintagebeefcake.blog...

So maybe there have been two changes: the number of photographs of men intended primarily to glorify their beauty, and the audience for those photographs. Because up until Playgirl Magazine in the '70s and '80s, women weren't really allowed or expected to want to see such things.
And now we have Magic Mike...
Who knew Channing Tatum could dance like that?





I totally agree, Marlon. Totally.
So I'm not sure what I proved here today, other than that men have been handsome for at least as long as people have been able to photograph them. Ah well....I hope you enjoyed the view.

Happy Weekend!
Liv

Romancing Austin

Romancing AustinSeven Romances. One Wild PartyA multi-genre contemporary romance anthology
Release Date: May 5, 2015Authors: Riley Bancroft, Evelyn Berry, Cara Carnes, Jax Garren,Irene Preston, Rebecca Royce, Chandra Ryan
Introductory Price: $0.99 (limited time); reg. $3.99
KEEP GOING ALL THE WAY TO THE END OF THE POST FOR A $75 AMAZON GIFT CARD RAFFLECOPTER GIVEAWAY!!

Romancing Austin Blurb
Former rock star Dex Reed throws a wild comeback party in his Austin penthouse, and seven romances heat up the night. 

No Quitting Allowed, Rebecca Royce
One last assignment and then Lana is quitting her job, quitting Austin, and moving on with her life. Until Jake stumbles into her and changes the direction of her whole world. 

Twisted, Cara Carnes
Caleb "Colt" Douglas agreed to close out Twisted Delirium's sold out world tour with a gig at SXSW for one reason--win back the woman he left behind. 

Do Over, Chandra Ryan
When life offers Juliana a fresh start, will she follow her heart or play it safe?

Consortium, Riley Bancroft
Record exec Holt Michaelson married the enigmatic Chloe to keep his assets safe from a vindictive competitor, but after a fiery encounter with his new wife, he's determined to claim her as his own, body and soul. 

Tall Order, Irene Preston
Dylan made the worst mistake of his life when he chose his career over Aston, but tonight he'll take a risk on Aston even if it's too late.

Enchanted, Evelyn Berry
Stripped of her magic, fairy princess Aurora is torn between her duty to her imperiled family and to a brilliant musician who holds the key to their freedom...and her heart. 

One Night with the Vampire, Jax Garren
Tonight Alex will finally possess the woman he's craved, but Sofia's dangerous family secrets threaten to tear them apart.


Buy Links
Amazon | ARe | Kobo 
Add to Goodreads “Want to Read”

ExcerptsThey told me I could choose one or two, so I've got snippets from Irene Preston & Jax Garren. Good stuff!!




Excerpt from Tall Order by Irene Preston

“Hello, Dylan.”

Dylan closed his eyes at the unfairness of the whole fucked up night. Damn, damn, damn. The sound of his name on Win’s lips still made him weak at the knees. It made him want to punch the asshole in the other room and anyone else who’d touched Win while he was gone. It made him want to take Win home, and take him to bed, and remind him they belonged to each other. Dylan and no one else took care of Win. Unfortunately, none of that was possible, and it was all his fault.

He turned.

“Win.” It was all he could manage. Up close Win was even more devastating. Dylan locked his knees so he wouldn’t take a step closer. If he started moving toward the man standing in the doorway, he wasn’t sure he could stop.

“Most people just call me Aston now.” 

I’m not most people. Dylan stopped himself from saying it out loud. 

Win watched him for a minute. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

Was there a shadow of hurt in his eyes? Dylan couldn’t tell. The realization sliced him, because he had always been able to tell exactly what Win was thinking.

“Just got back.” What else was there to say? Yes, he was back in Austin. No, he wasn’t in New York. Yes, his Big Chance had been a Big Mistake. No, he never should have left. He should have stayed here, a medium-sized fish in a medium-sized pond instead of trying to swim in the ocean. He should never have forced Win to choose.

Win took a few steps closer and all the thoughts running around in Dylan’s head stopped cold so his brain could focus on one fact. Win. Right in front of him. I could touch him. 

Win was so close Dylan had to tilt his head to keep looking at him. The angle brought back the memory of every time he’d angled his head just so when Win leaned in to kiss him.

Dylan held his breath, held as still as he could, and tried not to give the thought away.

Win gazed at him for a minute, then lifted one hand and trailed a finger down the front of Dylan’s shirt, lighting up nerve endings as he went. 

“Cute.”

Read More from “Tall Order”

About Irene Preston
Irene Preston has to write romances, after all she is living one. As a starving college student, she met her dream man who whisked her away on a romantic honeymoon across Europe. Today they live in the beautiful hill country outside of Austin, Texas where Dream Man is still working hard to make sure she never has to take off her rose-colored glasses.

Visit Irene Online:

IrenePreston.com | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | GoodReads | Amazon 






Excerpt from One Night With the Vampire by Jax Garren
Alex shot her another one of his smiles like a ray of sunshine in the gloom. “I’ll put this in the icebox for later.” He took the Champagne to her refrigerator.

He bent over to slide the wine in, outlining his tight glutes beneath the chinos. As his therapist, she’d seen them naked already—pale, smooth skin over perfectly shaped muscles—but then he was a client on a table. In her kitchen, bent over as he sorted through leftovers to make space, he was all man. Desire rose through her fiercely, setting her skin tingling and her breath on edge. She could probably have him tonight, too.

The problem was she didn’t just want him. She liked him. Given her way, they’d make tonight amazing and then see about tomorrow, but a relationship meant a lot of honesty she didn’t know him well enough to give. It wasn’t fair to him to start anything if there was a chance she had to work for Marcos.

He straightened and turned to her. The dark look in his eyes meant he knew she’d been staring at his ass. 

She cocked a hip. “How long does it take to find room in a near-empty fridge for one bottle?”

He shut the door and sauntered toward her. “How long would you like it to take?”

She popped him on the rear and headed to her room for her purse. “You are trouble with a French accent.”

When she came out, he was right where she’d left him, waiting for her with a soft expression. “You are an angel with magic hands.”

She swallowed past the lump forming. This was not a relationship. She didn’t have the freedom for a relationship. So tonight she’d keep it light and hot, one really good night before her fall from grace. She looked him over in a thorough examination. When there was no room for doubt about the wicked direction of her thoughts, she strode across the room to the door, high heels clacking on the tile. “If you like my hands, you’re going to love what I can do with my mouth.”

About Jax Garren
Jax Garren is the author of hot, urban paranormal romances the Austin Immortals and the Tales of the Underlight. Though descended from Valkyries and Vikings (she’s part Swedish), Jax was raised a small town girl in the Texas Hill Country. She’s been a programmer, a theater teacher, a wedding singer, and a foster parent. She’s now happily married to an engineer who studies renewable energy. Jax loves meeting new people, so if you see her, give her a Viking “Hail!”

Visit Jax Online:

JaxGarren.com | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Tumblr | GoodReads | Amazon  


As promised, here's the $75 Rafflecopter Giveaway.If you don't enter, there'll be more chances for me to win! (lolol)
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Ascension - The Demon Hunters #1 by A.S. Fenichel

Book Title: Ascension - The Demon Hunters Author: A.S. Fenichel Genre: Historical Paranormal Romance Release Date: October 6, 2014 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions





 
 Ascension The Demon Hunters, #1 
When demons threaten London, Lady Belinda answers the call. Lord Gabriel Thurston returns home from war to find his fiancée is not the sweet young girl he left behind. She’s grown into a mysterious woman who guards her dark secrets well. When he sees her sneaking away from a ball, he’s convinced it’s for a lover’s rendezvous. Following her to London’s slums, Gabriel watches in horror as his fiancée ruthlessly slays a man. Lady Belinda Carlisle’s only concern was her dress for the next ball—until demons nearly killed her and changed everything. A lady by day, and a demon hunter by night, she knows where her duty lies. Ending her betrothal is the best way to protect Gabriel from death by a demon’s hand. Gabriel soon realizes, like him, Belinda has been fighting for her country. He joins in the fight, determined to show her that their love can endure, stronger than ever.


 

Lady Belinda Clayton grappled with the creaking iron gate, which led to the back garden of her family’s London townhouse. It was not the first time she had used the unconventional route to make her way back home in the predawn hours. Nor was it the first time her dress had been ruined or her hair tousled in her rush to make her way through the streets without becoming a number on the death toll in the city’s records. 
Pushing the gate closed, the rough, cold metal scratched her gloved palm. Once the latch was secured she ran her finger along the jagged tear in her left glove. “Too bad,” she said. She shook her head at the ruined garment. “I really did like this pair.” 
“What pair is that, Lady Belinda?” Gabriel’s deep, seductive voice cut through the still night. His blue eyes were the color of the sea just before a storm and their depths burned into her. 
Her stomach did a flip before she had time to control herself. She was sure she looked flustered and she could have kicked herself for not steeling her nerves before facing Lord Gabriel Thurston, the Earl of Tullering. 
She was pleased with the sound of cold detachment in her voice. “Tullering, what on earth are you doing in my garden in the middle of the night?” 
“One might ask you the same question, Lady Belinda.” He ran his hand through his dark hair, loosening it from the ribbon. His cravat had come loose and his evening clothes were crushed. There was something dangerous about an unkempt Gabriel. The gesture was a sign of frustration from the earl. She’d seen it many times. 
Her heart raced and she swallowed the panic welling in her gut. “This is my home, my lord. You do not live here. If I am not mistaken you have a home in London where you should be at this late hour.”  "You are my fiancée.” Even in the moonlight, his face and neck burned red. 
“There is no need to remind me.” 
He stepped from the terrace onto the cobbled path where she stood. He loomed over her and filled the air with a mixture of soap, spice and something else male and formidable. The scent was intrinsically Gabriel and entirely delicious. 
She was tempted to back away, but forced herself to hold her ground. Her stubbornness did not stop her heart from racing or her skin from tingling at his nearness. 
“Oh, but I think there is a need.” He circled behind her, his mouth inches from her ear. 
She set her teeth. “I am well aware of the contract signed between you and my father four years ago, my lord. I was there when it was signed and I was also there when you left for the continent.” The day he left for the war came flooding back, and so did the memories of her unanswered letters, and the tears she had cried over him. Well, there would be no tears tonight. 
“You are angry with me for fighting for our country?” He took a step back. 
“No.” 
“But you are angry.” 
"You might have written since your concern for our relationship is so evident.” 
She’d wanted to sound flippant, but she sounded brooding. She’d been hurt by his silence, and had little hope of hiding the fact. 
“I wrote,” he said. 
She was pleased the subject had changed to something more defensible. “Three letters in four years can hardly be considered correspondence, my lord.” 
“You use to call me Gabriel.” He murmured. 
She stepped away in spite of the pleasant shiver his voice produced. “That was a long time ago.” She made to climb the terrace steps away from him. 
“There is still the question of why my fiancée is sneaking through the garden at four in the morning.” 
She turned ready to blast him about having no right to ask her anything. Her words stuck in her throat. In the full moonlight, he took her breath away. He was tall and broad and his hair hung loose around his face. In spite of her anger, she wanted desperately to touch his hair and see if it was still as soft as it looked. “I come and go as I please.” 
“So I see,” he said. “Perhaps then, you would be willing to explain why your dress is six inches deep with mud, why your hair looks as if you’ve been tossing in the sheets, how you got that smudge of dirt on your lovely face, or the hole in those gloves you were just lamenting?” 
She wiped some dried mud from her cheek. The resulting dull pain told her she had revealed a bruise beneath. 
His eyes widened and he flew up the steps. 
She stepped back. She couldn’t harm Gabriel so she lifted one arm as if to dull a blow. 
He froze, staring down at her. 
It had been instinct. The last few years had taught her that no one is immune to violence. A woman must learn to defend herself. If he had been anyone else, she’d have struck him rather than shield herself against an angry fist. She lowered her arm and looked into his piercing eyes. Her heart pounded. She had made an error. 
“Do you truly think I would strike you?” 
Now that she was thinking clearly again, she hardly knew why she had defended herself. It was foolish. Gabriel would never strike her. Her environment had tainted her. She attempted to remain cold in her explanation. “I hardly know what to think, my lord. We no longer know each other.” 
When he touched the tender bruise, she winced, but did not back away. 
“And this, Bella, would you care to explain this to me?” His voice was soft and his touch feather-like, but his eyes narrowed and his posture remained unyielding. 
She brushed his touch aside. “Do not call me that.” 
“You use to like that name.” 
“That was also a long time ago.” 
“Not so long,” he whispered. He gazed out into the garden as if lost in some distant memory. His attention returned to her. “I am waiting for some kind of response from you, Lady Belinda.” 
In spite of her need to keep him at a distance, her heart ached when he used the formal address. Her first instinct was to tell him to go to hell and leave her alone, but that would only provoke him. She lied instead. “I have been at a ball. There was some problem with the carriage, and I was required to walk part of the way. I fell in the mud and some of it must have splattered my face when my dress was ruined.” 
He frowned. “And the bruise?” 
Deep creases around his full lips drew her in. Desire to tell him everything bubbled in her gut. She shrugged. “I’m sure it is only dirt. The moonlight makes it seem more dire, and you are exaggerating the situation greatly.” 
“I see. Is this all the explanation I can expect?” 
“It is what I am willing to say, my lord.” She turned and walked to the house. The door opened just as she arrived and she slipped inside before her fiancé could say more.


 


A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back. A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story. Multi-published in historical, paranormal, erotic and contemporary romance, A.S. is the author of The Demon Hunters series, the Psychic Mates series, and more. With several books currently contracted to multiple publishers, A.S. will be bringing you her brand of edgy romance for years to come. Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in the East Texas with her real life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden. Her babies are both rescues and include a demanding dog and a temperamental cat both of which bring constant joy and laughter.













 Kensington




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Are you going to kiss me or not? So Hot it's Swoonworthy!

Last Friday I had so much fun with the Book Boyfriends Cafe Hot For Friday blog hop that I decided to play again. The theme for this week is So Hot it's Swoonworthy, and the goal is to highlight a line that really gets you going. There are a dozen authors participating this week. so when you get done with my snippet, jump HERE to check out the rest. Pulses will be raised, I promise!

My snippet's from my novella Between the Sheets. In this scene, Maggie and Randy have gone out for a hike. They've stopped for a rest, and are starting to get to know each other a little bit better...




Randy’s glasses did little to filter the intensity in his gaze, and I reached out, touching his arm where the bottom edge of his tattoo showed beneath his sleeve. “Is this your only tatt?”

The heat in his grin doubled the speed of the low pulsing sound. “Um, no.”

My hand fell to my side as I opened and closed my mouth a couple of times, trying for a snappy comeback. Something in my belly was having a little conniption fit. Krista said I should try something new, and Cosmo told me a Sex Diva should be BOLD, be CONFIDENT, be DIRECT. I didn’t always follow others’ advice, but this seemed like a carpe diem kind of moment.

I swallowed hard before I spoke. “Can I see them?” 

“What?”

“Your tattoos.”

The predator returned full strength, and my breath caught on the inhale. 

“Some of them,” he said.

A couple birds zipped across the path behind us, chasing each other through the trees. Randy slowly pulled his shirt off and stretched out in the grass, resting on his elbows. The vine around his upper arm became a powerful dragon and wrapped over his shoulder, its claws holding some kind of knot-work symbol over his heart. My finger traced the pattern in the vine before my brain identified the movement. His skin was soft, warm, and when I added a second finger, he exhaled heavily through his nose. 

I breathed faster, mouth open. Tried to moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue. Froze in the heat of his predator’s gaze. 

“It’s not fair,” he said. “I’m half naked, and you’re not.”

He had a point. I shrugged out of my plaid shirt. My hiking shorts were not really Sex Diva wear, but his eyes were fixed on where sweat had stuck my thin tank top to my chest. I rose onto my knees. He stretched further till he was almost lying in the grass. My skin was moist all over, and not just from the hike. 

No acting class anytime, anywhere ever taught anyone how to deal with the palpable energy between us. His smile said come and get it and since we weren’t playing by the rules, I did.

I leaned forward, tensed every muscle for control, and kissed the knot over his heart, making the gesture as delicate as possible. Teasing us both. I planted a hand on either side of his chest. Bold. Confident. Direct.

Melting.

“What’s it mean?” I shifted to lay a fingertip on the symbol I’d just kissed.

He shrugged. “Strength. Power.” He tipped his head up, giving himself a double chin to see where I was pointing. “I fought the dragon and won.”

I crawled over him. He stretched, slow and supple the way a cat does after it’s been asleep for a while, and ended up with his head resting in his hands and his elbows spread wide. “Are you going to kiss me or not?” he asked.

“You’re all laid out like some kind of steamy sexy banquet.”

He chuckled from deep in his belly. “I could say ‘eat me,’ but that would be a pretty painful joke.”
I bent lower, laughing, getting as close to his lips as I could. Rather than kiss him, I stuck out my tongue and licked. 

I mean, a Sex Diva might be bold and all, but teasing was good, too. With a sudden move, he tipped me onto my ass. He got an arm around me and rolled, and before I caught my breath he was the one on top. “Now,” he said, almost a snarl, “are you going to kiss me or not?”

Rubbing my knuckles across the scruff of beard on his chin, I caught the hinge of his glasses and pulled them off. “Sure.”

Blurb
Life for music teacher Maggie Schafer has been full of flat notes lately. Sick of being single and celibate, she vows to get her groove back at the upcoming Western Washington Choral Directors Annual Retreat. 

Too bad the only guy who seems interested is a pompous dork who thinks he’s God’s gift to women—and the music education world. When he gets a little too arrogant and crosses boundaries, gorgeous pianist Randy Devers swoops in to run interference. After sharing a shockingly hot kiss in front of the whole conference, Maggie and Randy come up with a plan to pretend they’re dating.

However, the more time they spend together—and the more physical their “pretend” relationship gets—the more she wonders if there could be anything beyond just smoking chemistry and a friendly agreement between them.

Maggie’s got history, Randy’s got baggage, and they’ve got a weekend to get their rhythms in sync and figure out how to turn their solo lives into a beautiful duet.


Buy Links
Amazon        Barnes & Noble       Kobo        GoogleBooks       Goodreads


Hmm....I seem to have left off at a bit of a cliffhanger. Does she kiss him, or not? Guess you'll have to check out Between the Sheets to find out. And don't forget to check out all the other Swoonworthy lines in today's hop. Happy Friday!
Cheers,
Liv

Grave Touched by Erin Zarro

Today's guest is my friend Erin Zarro, who's new book Grave Touched has an official release date of May 1, 2015 (but just between you and me, if you go to Amazon, it's live NOW!). Grave Touched is published by Turtleduck Press, and is the sequel to Fey Touched, and if you're not familiar with Erin's work, check it out because it's good stuff...


Interview
LR: What’s the most compelling thing about Grave Touched, the thing that’s kept your butt in the chair through hours of writing and revising?

EZ: I think the most compelling thing that kept me moving was the battle that the characters had to fight to save themselves, their loved ones, and ultimately the world. They were being possessed by restless dead called the grave touched who wouldn't stop until everyone in the world had been possessed and the world turned into a version of their world, an icy cesspool of dead things.

Also, the love story between the two main characters. Watching it unfold was like watching a movie -- at times beautiful, at times heartbreaking. It kept me focused because they needed their story told.

LR: Does all of your writing have a fantasy element? What’s the appeal there? Does fantasy cross over into your poetry & photography?

EZ: I would say 95% of my stories have some type of fantasy  element in them. I love being able to do virtually anything – create a new world, make up my own magic system, invent a new culture and/or language (which is really fun!), and do things we can't do in the real world. There is no limit to what a writer can do with fantasy, and I love that.

Poetry for me is deeply personal and very autobiographical, so fantasy doesn't really creep into it. Maybe someday I'll give that a try. ;) 

With photography...sometimes. When I was in college, I created a book of Victorian pictures and poems, using pictures I'd taken of my sister and I in Victorian garb. It was pretty neat. I also do double exposures (the real way – shooting a roll of film, rewinding it, and reloading it) and sometimes the resulting pictures will have a sort of fantasy quality to them. And black & white infrared is hauntingly beautiful, with everything glowing.  I have a ton of ideas for new shoots that will incorporate more fantasy elements.

LR: Turtleduck Press’s co-op model is different from other publishers. How’d you guys gets started, and where did you get the name?

EZ: Five years ago we (KD Sarge, Siri Paulson, Kit Campbell, and myself) were discussing KD's book that had been with an agent for a year, and lamented the difficulty of getting an agent to take on less commercial books, even though they were of good quality. We thought, hey, we can do something, and we started making plans. Originally we were an alliance, but later on we incorporated as a company. And the rest is history.

The name came from the turtleduck being a blend of a turtle and a duck, not wholly one or the other. And our mission is to bring works to the public that are different in some manner that would otherwise fall through the cracks.

LR: Who do you read when you want inspiration? 

EZ: I have a lot of go -to authors: Nalini Singh, Karen Marie Moning, Larissa Ione, Melissa Marr, JR Ward, Dean Koontz, SM Reine, Dan Rix, Maggie Stiefvater, Sharlaine Harris, Lynn Viehl, Holly Lisle, Richelle Mead, and Terry Goodkind.

LR: Clutter or quiet? Describe your perfect writing situation.

EZ: I would be in my home office, listening to music that inspires me, no distractions, just in the zone, watching the story unfold in my head.

LR: In your bio you describe your cat as part vampire? Why? Do you have photographic proof? 

EZ: LOL. I actually don't have proof as such, but I have some pictures I can share. Hailey is a loving cat...when she feels like it. Any other time, you get bitten. I can't tell you how many bites I've gotten from her over the years. But she's my baby, and I love her anyway. 


"But I don't look evil...mostly..."

LR: I also read that you’ve got a couple of tattoos. Have you added any since the interview on your website? Do you have more planned?

EZ: I haven't added any more due to finances. Tattoos are so expensive! I have several planned: fairy wings on my back (huge!), a celtic cross on my opposite shoulder, the words "nolite timere" (Latin for "Do not be afraid" -- my motto as of last year) just below the tribal band, and Karen Marie Moning's Fever series motto, "Hope Strengthens, Fear Kills" somewhere. I'm also considering getting a small tattoo somewhere that says "j'écris" (which is French for "I write"). I'm a huge fan of body art.
Hailey is looking for tattoos...
LR: What’s next on your horizon? Describe your current WIP(s) or other upcoming project.

EZ: Well, I have several in the hopper. The main one is Fireborn, a novella in the Reaper Girl universe (which started in TDP's anthology "Under Her Protection." My novella was "Reaper Girl"). I need to finish it and will possibly publish it this year sometime or next. I have a psychological horror novel, Survivor, that's eleven years old and in rewrite (it keeps pulling me in!). And finally, book 3 of the Fey Touched series, Ever Touched, featuring precognition, clones, and neural implants. Should be fun.

If you're interested in reading more about Erin & her work, jump HERE - she's got another interview on my friend Ellen Gregory's blog.

Blurb

Fey Touched – humans, genetically engineered for immortality and flight, tasked with protecting the rest of the world from rogue Fey...

Grave Touched – dead souls in search of living bodies to possess, especially those who’ve had a brush with death...


When Fey Touched Hunter Emily wakes up in a hospital, she doesn’t know that she was in fact dead. Nor does she know that her lover, Nick, broke all kinds of rules to bring her back. But the grave touched do.

Fey Touched Healer Asha does know that her mate, Joe, saved her when her abilities nearly killed her. And she knows the voices in her head are the grave touched trying to stake their claim. Asha needs Joe’s help again, but unfortunately she’s the only one who believes the grave touched exist.

The grave touched are plotting to take over the corporeal world, and they’re gaining strength. Only Emily and Asha stand in their way – and both are about to be possessed.

Grave Touched.



Buy Link
Available from Amazon.


Bio



Erin Zarro is an indie novelist and poet living in Michigan. She's married to her Prince Charming, and she has a feline child named Hailey who she's convinced is part vampire. She loves all things scary and spooky, and is on a mission to scare herself, as nothing lately has scared her. She writes in the genres of sci-fi, fantasy, and horror. Her first published novel, Fey Touched, is a blend of sci-fi and fantasy. She is currently working on Book 3, Ever Touched, and is trying to stay out of trouble. Mostly. Her website is at erinzarro.com.

Thinking Too Much

This is a self-portrait. Of a sort.So Mondays are usually my issue posts - either I respond to something that's going on or I dig into some aspect of writing that's caught my attention.

Today I couldn't bring it.
It's been a long weekend of family stuff and switching gears on projects and beta-reading for friends. (And I love beta-reading. The only reason I mention it is that I'm stressing over taking too long.) So instead of coming up with a rambly ol' blog post, I decided to play. Me n' Gimp n' a bunch of beach blanket bimbos are celebrating my natural state.
Overthinking things.
I hope your Monday is going well, and I'll be back in a day or so with something a little more articulate.Cheers!Liv

Hot Kiss Friday

Chet Baker partly inspired my character Skip.

Every week on Friday, the Book Boyfriends Cafe runs a Hot for Friday meme, and the last Friday of the month the theme is "Hot Kiss". There are a bunch of blogs participating (jump HERE to see the full list), so you'll have plenty of Friday kissing action. The rules don't specify whether it's the characters' first kiss or not, but in this case, it is. This snippet is from my mid-century m/m romance Aqua Follies. Russell & Skip are at a bar that caters to "their kind", and after a long and tortuous delay, things finally heat up...


Blurb
The 1950s. Postwar exuberance. Conformity. Rock and roll. 

Homophobia.

Russell Haunreiter accepts his aunt’s offer of the assistant coach’s job for her water ballet team, and travels with them to Seattle, where they will perform for the Aqua Follies. He’s just along for the ride until the night of the dress rehearsal, when the trumpet player’s solo hits him like a torpedo, blowing apart his carefully reconstructed life.

From the orchestra pit, Skip Johansson watches Poseidon’s younger brother stalk along the pool deck. It never hurts to smile at a man, because who knows what will come of it, so once the last note has been played, he gives it a shot. A flash of panic and heat tells Skip he’s guessed correctly. None of the girls on the team are Russell’s type, but even Skip can’t see the wounds the other man is carrying. 


Seattle may be more open than Russell’s home town of Red Wing, MN, but no place truly welcomes their kind of love. Is the strength of their bond enough to take a chance on a very uncertain future, or will the ghosts of Russell’s past stop them before they get started? 


Harry Connick Jr is also an inspiration for Skip. Because yum.
Hot Kiss
The bartender interrupted Skip to ask if they wanted another round.

“What time is it?” Skip guessed it was close to midnight.

“Half past twelve.” Russell’s eyes were heavy, and Skip’s alarm was going to go off at five o’clock. It was time to move.

“We can sneak out the back,” he said. “It’ll be closer to where we parked the car.”

He hadn’t quite told a lie, but close. They paid for their drinks, and he led Russell toward the back of the narrow room. As soon as they were in the dark hallway, between the tavern and the restroom, he launched himself, forcing Russell against the wall. He gripped his face with both hands, holding him in place.

“Nobody can see,” he murmured, so close the warmth of Russell’s breath moistened his lips, his internal thermostat driven to the red line by all the teasing and flirting.

“Mmm.”

For a screaming instant he almost stopped, afraid of chasing Russell off. The man had been so skittish, so to make his intentions plain, Skip pinned him with his hips. In return, Russell’s hard heat thrust against his thigh. 

“Last chance to stop,” Skip said.

“Oh God.” The words came out in a gasp, and Russell closed the distance between them, meeting Skip’s lips in a soft, tentative brush. 

Skip didn’t need any more of an invitation. He rocked his hips a couple times and dove in, satisfying an urge that had been growing since he’d first seen Russell stalking along the pool deck. 

Russell’s body was solid, his touch was warm, and he tasted of whiskey. His lips softened under the rush of Skip’s kisses. A groan vibrated up from Russell’s belly, and Skip went crazy, both hands gripping the lapels of the other man’s jacket to keep from reaching for his cock. The energy running through him since the gig went off like a match thrown in gasoline. It was hard to breath, hard to stand still. Kissing the gorgeous swimming god took every ounce of his concentration and hardened a harmless flirtation into bone-deep need.

Russell’s lips parted, giving him something new to attend to. He opened up, sliding his tongue along Russell’s lower lip, letting his hands roam over his high cheekbones and close cropped hair. Their tongues tangled. Rough whiskers burned. Russell nipped his lower lip and almost dropped him to his knees.

They didn’t ease off the throttle until someone came looking for the rest room. The man passed them with a murmured, “Careful, boys,” and kept moving. 

Russell jerked, stiffened, and pulled away. Skip rolled to the side so they stood shoulder to shoulder, their backs to the wall and fingers interlaced, their hearts pounding on a backbeat.

“Okay, so this wasn’t my classiest move, dragging you back to the john.” Skip flipped his head to clear the flopping bangs out of his face. “That fellow’s cool, though. He won’t rat on us.”

Russell shook their clasped hands. “You don’t hear me complaining.”

“Yeah, but if Demetrio or the bartender finds us, we’ll be out on our cans.” Reality kept raining down. “I’d bring you home with me tonight, but I have to work early in the morning.”
Russell tipped his head back against the wall and chuckled. “What are we doing here then?”

“I told you. I wanted to spend some time with you.” Skip kissed the back of Russell’s hand. The kiss turned into a caress. 

Russell cleared his throat, more of a grunt, as if he was cramming something down deep. “I’ve got to lead calisthenics at seven in the morning, anyway.” 

Skip knocked him with his shoulder. “Do you have to be coach all the time, or can you break away?”

“Saturday afternoon.”

“It’s a date.”

This one's out on submission, and you will hear it here first when it gets contracted. Happy Friday! Cheers!
Liv

Don't forget to check out the full list of participating blogs on this Hot Friday. And if you want to see more of the pictures that inspired Aqua Follies, check out my Pinterest board HERE.

FRACTURE by Amanda K. Byrne (@AmandaKByrne #hot #contemporary)

This is so cool! Today is the release day for my good friend and critique partner Amanda K. Byrne's first full-length novel, Fracture. I had the great good fortune to be one of the beta readers for this project and I can honestly say I LOVE THIS BOOK! It'll hit you right in the feels! So check it out, and keep reading for my girl Amanda's thoughts on the playlist for Fracture...

I’m a big fan of playlists. I make one for the majority of my stories, though I rarely listen to them while I’m writing. But they do a fantastic job of setting the mood, and with my newest release, Fracture, I needed it.

Fracture is set in present day war-torn Sarajevo, so I wanted intense, angry music. Songs like “I Stay Away” by Alice in Chains and “Metal Heart” by Garbage. Or Kasabian’s “Switchblade Smiles”, and Linkin Park’s “Castle of Glass”.

And since U2 is my favorite band, I had to include one of their songs, and it’s such an obvious one, too – “Bullet the Blue Sky”. Another war song, “Zombie” by the Cranberries, made the list, but I chose an acoustic version over the album version. It’s got this haunting quality to it that brings to mind an almost visceral image of the destruction and havoc war wreaks on humanity.

My taste in music can be rather eclectic, though, so there’s a few songs that kinda sorta don’t make a lot of sense (Morten Lauridson’s “O Nata Lux”, which is absolutely gorgeous, and “Central Reservation” by Beth Orton). One scene takes place in a dance club, so I threw in some David Guetta (“Turn Me On”, featuring Nikki Minaj) and Bassnectar (“Ping Pong”). 

But if I were to pick a theme song off the list, it would be “Gorecki” by Lamb. Declan, for all his cruelty and thoughtlessness, turns out to be exactly what Nora needs, and their connection is this fierce, adamantine bond forged in the chaos. The melody and the beat combine into something dark and sensuous, full of heat and lust and need. When Lou Rhodes sings, “Here my heart knows calm”, I can imagine Nora thinking those very words.

Got a Spotify account? You can listen to the full playlist here.


Blurb
Every nightmare has an end.

There’s no way Nora can ignore the beating. Same heavy boots. Same curses, same pained groans. But that was two years ago, and this a different man, a different part of war-ravaged Sarajevo. This is her second chance. She has to try.

And then she’s stuck with him, nursing him, putting up with him. Declan’s an ass. He’s rude and tactless. He’s arrogant. Dismissive.

Charming. Intense. Caring when she needs it most – and least expects it. He tears away the numbing fog that’s been her constant companion and offers her a way out and a way home.

And it damn near destroys her.

Nora’s survived two years in a war zone. Can Declan show her how to live?


Buy it here 
AMZ | BN | KOBO | iBooks | GR



Bio
The official version:

When she’s not plotting ways to sneak her latest shoe purchase past her partner, Amanda writes sexy, snarky romance and urban fantasy. She likes her heroines smart and unafraid to make mistakes, and her heroes strong enough to take them on.

If she’s not writing, she’s reading, drinking hot chocolate, and trying not to destroy her house with her newest DIY project. She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, and no, it really doesn’t rain that much.

The not quite as boring version:

I didn’t set out to be a writer. A lot of people say that, and they say it because it’s true. More, I didn’t set out to be a romance writer. I wanted to be a jockey when I was younger. Yes, I wanted to ride racehorses for a living. Then I wanted to be a juvenile probation officer. At some point, I wanted to be a teacher, a princess, and an actress, and I ended up doing none of those things.

I adore reading. In fact, I love it so much I review books as well as write them. I review for My Bookish Ways and Vampire Book Club, and sometimes I’ll post a review on my own blog. I grew up reading literary fiction, mysteries, thrillers, and the occasional chick lit thrown in for spice. The only romance author I’d read for years was Nora Roberts (closing in on twenty years with that relationship) and while I’ve since expanded my romance reading horizons, she still remains one of my go-to authors for comfort reading.

I have the world’s neediest cat and the most amazing partner. I also have a massive number of shoes and sweaters and can’t bring myself to part with any of them. If you bring me green Sour Patch Kids, I will love you forever, but I could (and do) live happily without brussel sprouts. I drink too much Pepsi, guard my free time fiercely, and swear a lot (except on Facebook, because my mother doesn’t like it).

Why Amanda K. Byrne? Because if you google my name without my middle initial, Google thinks you’re talking about a former Nickelodeon actress with some…issues. Go on and check it for yourself. I’ll wait.

*cricket chirp*

See? Anyway.

I have a love/dislike relationship with social media. I’m all over it, but I don’t spend too much time in one place. You can find me on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, a sorely neglected Tumblr, and you can check out the playlists for some of my books over on Spotify. Or you could, you know, be old fashioned and send me an email.

The Feels. Do we want them? How do we get them?

So...the other day my friend Irene posted to Facebook that she was reading the 4th book in a series by an author we both really like. That motivated me to get my but in gear and read the same book - I'd been saving it for a special occasion, and a Hawaiian vacation seemed special enough.

Loved the book. Hard.

(Jump HERE to see the book's Amazon link. I don't mean to be coy, but I blog about this author a lot, and there should be a limit to the fangirl action, you know?)

(Okay, fine. It's Jackdaw by KJ Charles. Fantastic story. Go read it. Seriously.)

At any rate, after I finished the book (for the 2nd time) I messaged Irene to ask what she thought. She loved it as much as I did, because unlike the other books in the series, this one was all about The Feels. A while later she dropped a different author's name, saying how much she admired her ability to write The Feels.

Those words again.
The Feels
Now, I haven't been living in a box, so I've seen people use the phrase before, but I'd never really connected it to my own writing. Should I try and write The Feels? What does that mean, exactly? And how would I go about doing it?

The best way to understand something is to start with an accurate definition. I went to Urban Dictionary, however had trouble finding something short AND grammatically correct AND F-bomb-free.

Not that there's anything wrong with that...exactly...

Then I found knowyourmeme.com, where there was both a definition and some information about the origin of the term. Check out the link if you want to feel like an expert on The Feels. For the rest of you, here's their definition:

“Feels” is a shorthand for the word “feelings” that is used to describe an intense emotional response, such as sadness, excitement or awe. The term is also commonly associated with the phrase “right in the feels,” which indicates that something has deeply affected the speaker.






Intense emotional response. That's what I want for my readers, maybe not on every page, but often enough to keep them turning those pages. Assuming my characters are more perceptive than poor Sherlock up there, how do I communicate their emotional response to any given situation?

After reading through a few blog posts (links below), I came up with six basic guidelines for adding emotional depth to your fiction.


1. Show, don't tell.


Every writer, everywhere has been told to 'show, don't tell' at one point or another. But how do you do that? It's not easy, or it wouldn't be something every one of us needs to be reminded of. As an example - and making use of Mr. Ackles, above - it's the difference between saying,

"He got all excited and started playing air guitar."

and

"He high kicked and grabbed his own damned leg, strumming his thigh like a guitar and shouting out the lyrics of some rock song."

The first sentence tells you he's excited, the second one communicates his emotion through word choice and detail. Giving your character physical cues that illustrate what's going on inside their head is much more powerful than baldly stating what they feel. The Emotion Thesaurus is great for this, providing a lists of behaviors associated with a host of different mental states.

You can and should amplify a character's emotions with visceral responses, with cues like a racing heartbeat or a twist in the pit of their belly, and you can use the choreography of the scene to provide clues to what they're feeling. A character who spends an entire conversation folded in a ball at the far end of the couch is giving a much different message than one who is straddling her love interest's lap.

You need to really know your characters, because the same situation can produce different responses in different people and you want to capture each character's unique truth. You also need to be willing to get down and dirty with your own feelings...but we'll get into that more in #3.


2. Give the reader something they can relate to.


There aint' nothing sadder than a bummed-out baby.

Look at that kid's face. You don't even need to know the cause to see his little heart breaking. Almost everyone's got some experience with babies, and as a story element, they're something most readers can relate to. I'm not saying every book needs a baby, but even the oddest, least-human character needs some aspect the reader can grab onto and say, "yeah, I know that."

If the reader connects with your main character in chapter one, they'll be sobbing or screaming or tearing their hair out when they get to the climax of the story. Readers are pretty forgiving, and will add their own layers to the information the writer gives them, but there needs to be a foundation of believability for them to work with.

Establishing a reader connection can make your antagonist more powerful, too. Not too many writers can get away with creating a Sauron. Most of us need to construct bad guys who have a little bit of good to offset all the evil, or whose motivations - selfishness, greed, addiction - can be understood by the reader.

I may not be telepathic, but I do know what it feels like to be the odd one out, to be the one who doesn't quite fit. So by the end of the first chapter of Dead Until Dark, I was pretty sure Sookie Stackhouse was someone I could be friends with, someone who would understand my own feelings of alienation, because she'd been there and done that. I rode that feeling of connection all the way through thirteen books and quite a few seasons of the television show.

Charlaine Harris won my loyalty by her ability to consistently get at honest emotional truths (and Eric Northman). In order to do that, she had to be willing to go there first.


 3. Open yourself up.


Basically, if you're not feeling it, your readers won't, either. I've heard writers say their best scenes are the ones where they made themselves cry, and there's something beautiful about that. To take your character into their blackest moments by digging into the time you hit rock bottom takes a fair amount of courage. Readers know what bad feels like, what hurt feels like, what fizzy infatuation feels like, and when you find a compelling way of communicating basic emotional truth, the words pop right off the page.Which is not to say your writing should be limited to those things you've already experienced. You just need to come up with the next best thing. Probably Charlaine Harris has never met a vampire, but she makes a pretty good case for what it would be like. Most of us have met someone who was extremely charismatic and kind of frightening. Like, you know, a vampire would be. Ms. Charlaine's ability to convey the competing dynamics of attraction and fear gives her work the weight of truth, even though the situations are complete fantasy.What's that I just said about competing dynamics? It's just a fancy way of saying a character's emotion rarely plays only one note.

4. Layer emotions.



Remember the time your sister came home and told you she'd made the cheerleading squad, and you were happy for her because you're sisters, after all, but you were also a teeny weeny bit jealous, because you're sisters, after all, and you were also also kind of excited because maybe your own dating cred would go up because of some trickle-down cool?

Because you're sisters, after all. Remember?

It's entirely possible for your characters to have mixed emotions about any given situation. To use an example from the KJ Charles book Jackdaw, Ben hated Jonah, except for how much he loved him. And Jonah loved Ben so much, he destroyed their relationship to keep him safe. The complexity of these extreme emotions (The Feels) drove the plot hard and made for compelling reading. 
(This post from Janice Hardy's Fiction University does a great job of detailing how to identify the different emotional layers in a scene. Check it out - it's worth a read.)
5. Use your setting

 

In #1, I talked about using behavioral cues, visceral reactions, and choreography to illustrate a character's mental/emotional state. Another way of reinforcing what's going on inside their head is to highlight details from the setting. The details you choose should help deepen the reader's connection with the character, thereby heightening their emotional response to the action on the page.
Think about it. Wuthering Heights is a very different book if it's set in contemporary L.A. (And I'm already playing with that idea, so don't even go there.) The whole dark-and-stormy-night vibe fosters a feeling of dread in the reader, one that reinforces the pathos and destructiveness of Cathy and Heathcliffe's doomed love.
More subtly, if most of your action takes place in a fairly benign suburban ranch house, maybe there's a dying potted plant in the corner that comes to represent the stress between the husband and wife who live there. A little bit of setting can go a long way, but a couple choice details can really hook your reader, increasing the emotional resonance of the scene.

6. Show some restraint.

  


Melodrama.
It's not usually what you're after. Melodrama happens when your character's emotional intensity is constantly turned up to eleven. (That's a random Spinal Tap reference.) If the hint of love has them singing about daisies and rosebuds, and a bad cup of coffee brings on tears, you might have a problem.
A character doesn't have to express over-the-top feelings in order to be dramatic. You're striving for the truth, right? And just as people quite normally feel more than one emotion at a time, there are also ten steps on their emotional volume control before they get to eleven. To avoid a melodramatic, potentially comedic, overreaction, make sure you calibrate the character's response to the situation you're creating.
There may be times when you want a character to overshoot, for a deliberately humorous effect. Janet Evanovich is pretty much an expert at this, and Stephanie Plum's sidekick Lula gets just as excited about a bucket of chicken as she does about a bad guy with a gun. In general, though, it's best to leave the melodrama to Snidely Whiplash and his pals.





So there's my take on how to hit your readers right in The Feels. Show, don't tell. Give them something to relate to. Open yourself up. Layer emotions. Use your setting. Avoid melodrama. And while you're doing all that, strive to put the truth on the page, because that'll give you the biggest feels of all.

Cheers,
Liv


If you've got any tricks for getting The Feels on the page, leave 'em in the comments!

Wish I'd known she was going to do this so I could have worked it in earlier...my friend Irene took my post and did it one better. Here's a link to The Feels (topic shamelessly stolen from Liv Rancourt)! She pretty much nails it....


If you'd like to do some more reading, here are some links...

http://theeditorsblog.net/2011/01/30/creating-emotion-in-the-reader/

http://theeditorsblog.net/2011/01/21/writing-for-the-emotions/

http://writershelpingwriters.net/2014/02/writing-extreme-emotion-without-melodrama/

http://blog.janicehardy.com/2011/10/do-you-feel-it-plotting-with-emotional.html