Tuesday, February 28, 2012

A new day

I’ve been thinking about something that has been bothering me or a while now. Very recently I’ve gone through and epiphany of sorts. These things bring realizations that affect you and then change your conceptions. That is what has happened to me a change. A change which might not be noticeable right away to others but I know it and feel it. It’s a new day.

Taige Crenshaw
http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/
…increasing the sizzle factor

Blog: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/blog
Chat Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crenshawcafe
Newsletter: http://www.taigecrenshaw.com/newsletterandgroups.shtml
Free Reads Site: http://www.satinnotes.com/

Wilde Rapture - When a woman ducks into an alcove at a wedding she meets the man who is intriguing and will tempt her.

Buy here at Total-E-Bound.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Things every newbie writer learns

In terms of years, I'm a writing old-timer. I've been doing it for a while. But I keep thinking about that horrible line from Armageddon ("I'm a third-generation driller, been doing it all my life, and I still haven't got it all figured out.") and realize I got a ways to go. See, I learn new shit all the time, and then when I read stuff for friends I get a little embarrassed because they're making mistakes that I was making just a year or two ago. And I'm probably making mistakes that you were making ten years ago. So I aim to provide a guide for brand-new writers, so we can all be on the same introductory level of badness and proceed from here. You veterans might get a chuckle of out this, too.

So, without further ado: things new writers need to know before they have a buddy read their first draft:

1. "Was" is not your friend. Do a document search and replace any instance of "was" that you can. Stronger verbs provide an instant and dramatic facelift for a story.

2. Document search for "this," "it," and "that" to make sure you're really talking about what you're talking about. Unintentional or unclear referents are signs of writing that hasn't been thought through very well. Dangling participles are another. If you don't know what a dangling participle is, chances are you're making them all over the place. Look 'em up.

3. Replace every form of "was verb-ing" with "verbed." On rare occasions, it'll sound silly, and in such cases you can change it back, but start out with the idea of eliminating progressive tenses completely.

4. Avoid word repeats like the plague. If you've used the same word twice in a sentence, fix it right away. Twice in a paragraph, please also rewrite at draft stage. Twice on a page... can wait until the second draft to fix unless it's a really unusual word like "leonine."

5. Point of view matters. A good cheat is to pick one character and write the whole thing in such a way that it could be read in first person. Nobody'd ever say, "I looked sullen but beautiful," right? Similarly, don't have characters say what they look like or talk about their expressions and postures. Also don't switch POV (even using a linespace to do so) for no other purpose than to give a physical description of your protagonist. Changes in POV are best when they occur on a hook, like at the end of a chapter.

6. Don't use semicolons. Nine times out of ten, you're using them wrong, even when you think you know the rules. It's better to just use commas and full sentences and read the sentence out loud for rhythm. At best they look pompous, at worst they look wrong.

7. Limit dialogue tags. Instead, provide stage direction or something to note who said what. For instance:
"Hello," he sneered.

can become

Carl sniffed and wrinkled his nose when he looked down at me. "Hello."
Also, lines and lines of dialogue with no narrative between and just the barest of tagging are indicative of a first draft that you haven't paid a lot of attention to. You'll want to flesh all that out before having somebody read it for serious. Otherwise it looks half-baked.

8. As an addendum to number 7, look for "said adverb-ly" and rewrite it. Readers skim right over "said" and tend to do the same to any words coming immediately after "said." Especially adverbs.

9. Hunt down the clichés. If characters are raising eyebrows to show disdain and sighing to show relief every other paragraph, you'll want to mix that up a bit.

10. Look for phrases like "she felt" or "he thought" and see if you can reword it directly. For instance, I recently changed a line from "A novice would shoot now, she thought, but she’d learned to trust her partner" to "A novice would shoot now, but she’d learned to trust her partner."

11. Nix the word "literally" unless you are writing satire.

12. Look for adverbs and replace them with better verbs.
He walked energetically

becomes

He bounded.

13. Give sensory details from all senses, not just the visuals. Say how things smell, taste, sound, and feel to the touch.

14. Make all dialogue meaningful. Unless "Hello" is ironic or important to the plot somehow, most times it needs to go. Some readers skim, looking for dialogue, and you want yours to snag their attention and make them stop skimming, damn it.

15. Know what your protagonist wants and how he or she aims to get it. Then you can torture that character much more satisfactorily (bwahaha). The best stories lay that information out right at the beginning.

Feel free to add to this list. After all, I'm not even close to finished learning.

--
Cross-posted at VivienJackson.com.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Saturday with ShapeShifter Seductions ~ Swallowed Him Like a Great Serpent



Saturday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers, and Happy Sun in Pisces.

From Astrology.com ~ "A new Moon in Pisces on February 21 inspires us to break through the fog of illusion and embrace a unique opportunity to turn fantasies into reality."

With that in mind, this week I am treating you, hopefully! it will be a treat, to a 'rough draft' of the latest chapter from my WIP ~ HER MIDNIGHT STARDUST COWBOYS.

This part of my first ShapeShifter Seductions' erotic romance, is Indiana Jones inspired. As well, Dontoya's ancient American Indian heritage is featured. And, of course, the strength of his inner black cougar shows up.

As a bit of a set up, Dontoya realizes to protect Sherilyn from her enemies, he needs to have the same mental connection with her as Zance, his partner, does. For that, he must retrieve the Ring of Union, as it was called in the ancient times by his tribe. However, the ring is actually an advanced technology that has been lost to most of humanity.

The challenge: the ring is located deep inside his family's home during the Great Deluge. The fifty mile stretch of cave tunnels and immense caverns is in the Grand Canyon, an area currently off limits to tourists, and guarded by private corporation mercenaries. Not only that, a group of his original tribe separated themselves, remaining in their family's caves. To keep themselves hidden, they will kill anyone who intrudes.
~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-Seven ~ Swallowed Him Like a Great Serpent

Almost upon him, the enemy braves mind-hurled their large silver blades, tipped with rattlesnake venom. Dontoya slowed abruptly, then spun imitating a cyclone. The energy field he flung around himself simultaneously, caused the six knives to swerve and miss.

Rattlesnake Spirit had warned him, looming before his mind's eye briefly.

With another Tasmanian-devil spin, as Zance called his ability, Dontoya launched inside the secondary tunnel, a natural part of the cave system. Too late, he realized all the traps had been activated because the Pruezi invaders had attempted to gain entry, but failed.

Since the four traps were located closer to the palatial cavern, Dontoya raced forward, once again relying on his cougar sight. With the luminescence of the main tunnel fading, the inky darkness enveloped him.

Odors swamped Dontoya's nostrils telling him the eco-system of the cave remained vital. Also, nearly seven months ago one of his cousins had walked the tunnel on a learning journey.

His training took over, and a layout of the three mile, gently snaking tunnel appeared before his mind's eye. With each trap clearly defined, he would be able to rapidly switch off the mechanism and transmute the magick. Or, if that wasn't possible, he could use his skills to escape. So, he hoped.

Pacing himself for the long run, Dontoya listened for the pursuit of the six braves, but their footfalls could not be heard. If they weren't chasing after him, then...

His gut roiled and tightened, a sure signal that something more dangerous lay ahead. With his gaze cutting through the darkness, Dontoya saw the first glyph, as depicted on the map inside his mind. The code was a warning to the members of his family about the trap ahead.

Dontoya shielded himself from the energy of the ensnaring curse, then focused on the trap meant to cage an intruder, and seal off further entry into the tunnel. He shot a mental beam at the mechanism, delaying the trigger just long enough. Behind him two sets of old-fashioned bars spiked downward.

Preparing for the next trap, Dontoya shouldered his rifle, and lengthened his racing stride. He heard the stone slabs begin to slide apart.

When an oppressive weight landed on him, Dontoya created etheric wings to defeat the attack of this curse. Mentally lifting himself, he leaped over the widening, nearly six foot gap.

Landing on the other side, far from the edge, he swiftly regained his speed. Had he missed, he would be plummeting into a stone prison, and the water would be rising quickly.

The next trap he faced was a holo field, an advanced technology that held an enemy in suspension, and manifested his worst fears repeatedly. Screaming, then begging for mercy were the end result. That, and eventual insanity.

Dontoya knew the trick to sailing through the field. He'd practiced enough times under the direction of his father. Blanking his mind, he waited until he observed the field's wavering glimmer.

Sherilyn, he spoke silently as he ran toward it, his stride easy and rhythmic.

Dontoya immersed himself in his memory of her, and felt the unique glow of his mate's spirit. As the subtle drag of the field touched his face, he closed his eyes.

At that instant he relived his orgasm with her. An inferno of pleasure smoldered through him. He felt as if the power of the sun moved through him again and again, just as it had before.

Sherilyn. Mate.

Too soon, Dontoya became aware he had emerged on the other side of the field, and now ran in an area of the tunnel that inclined upward. His footfalls slipped on the moister surface, so he lessened his pace.

In the same moments, the faint stench of bat guano from a colony located in another section of the cave sharpened his senses again. His warrior's focus returned full force.

The final trap would blast a trumpeting sound, the frequencies designed to bring an enemy to his knees. If that failed, a vibrational weapon would deploy, searing the interloper's nerves.

To overcome this agony, and move through the disabling sound, Dontoya knew he needed to lighten the weight of his body as he did when levitating. His imagined wings would not carry him this time. His challenge was that he rarely practiced this particular spiritual art, not having any real use for it in his current rancher's life.

Regret at not having done so, would not serve him now, he drily reminded himself. Instead, he thought of Sherilyn, the beautiful mate he and Zance had waited for, and sought for more years than either one them cared to count.

Ruthless determination seized Dontoya. His cougar claws and fangs nearly erupted, and his ferocious desire for her scorched his blood with the need to conquer anything or anyone.

With his heart drumming for his mate, Dontoya sensed for the next action of his enemies. As warrior, he psi-felt no immediate threat so he eased his pace, comfortably jogging.

Despite his physical exertion, Dontoya concentrated on slowing his breaths. To defeat the ancient-technology trap, he had to become invincible in a different way by using his inner strength.

Altering his mind-set to one of universal peace, he mentally hummed until he vibrated. Once in tune with the One Great Spirit, Dontoya prayerfully offered up his flesh, and seconds later, he felt his strides lengthen and float. His boot moccasins barely touched the cave floor.

Making certain he maintained his internal hum, Dontoya pierced the darkness with his cougar gaze seeking the glyph that would warn him of the trap. As he glimpsed it, another warning punched the pit of his stomach hard, and he was jerked off stride.

Someone had breached the sanctity of the cavern, but only the first entryway.

Deliberately locking away that 'knowing' for now, Dontoya regained his oneness with Spirit. Using every ounce of his shamanic discipline, he summoned the lightness of his body, and once again the sensation of floating claimed him.

Even to his gaze, the last trap would be invisible. His only clue would be the distance traveled as the glyph's code signaled.

Dontoya fought to keep his breaths slow and sacred, in time with the spin of the universe. Yet he knew...

The trap's frequencies grabbed for him. There was no sound of trumpeting, but the electro-magnetic crackle that surrounded him hissed like a cave-full of angry snakes.

As if flames licked at his entire body, his skin burned. Still, Dontoya launched himself upward. He flew into the void suddenly yawning before him, and the trap swallowed him like a great serpent.

Transcending the needles of pain being driven into his flesh, Dontoya raised his frequency, entering cosmic consciousness, as his new-age friends called it.

Finally spit out, he landed on his knees. He struggled to rise, but air left his lung in huge gasps. With his energies now depleted, he fell forward. The obsidian blade he still carried cut into his palm drawing blood.

The coppery smell enraged the cougar, and Dontoya surged to his feet. The savage spirit of his cat ran for him, and he sprinted toward the cavern's entrance, toward the enemy who waited upon his arrival.

With his heart pounding like a war drum, with his desire for Sherilyn igniting his blood to lightning, Dontoya swung his rifle into position. On silent feet, he charged around the tunnel's long sinuous curve.
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal Shapeshifting Week ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Friday, February 24, 2012

Hot Stuff From Liz: Across the Bar with Mary Quast

Hot Stuff From Liz: Across the Bar with Mary Quast

Leap Day Whimsy


 
Hi everyone. As you all know, 2012 is a Leap Year...but do you know why? I thought I'd share a few bits of historical Leap Year traditions and trivia with you today. 

  • The earth turns roughly 365 and a quarter times on its axis by the time it has completed a full year's orbit around the sun, which means that periodically the calendar has to catch up — thus the convention of leap years. A leap year contains one extra day, February 29, for a total of 366 days. 2012, for example, is a leap year. (source)
  • Persons born on leap day, February 29, are called "leaplings" or "leapers."
  • It was once thought that leapling babies would inevitably prove sickly and "hard to raise," though no one remembers why. 
  • In days gone by folks apparently believed that monkeying with the calendar like that might actually throw nature out of whack, even hampering the raising of crops and livestock. 
  • It used to be said, for example, that beans and peas planted during a leap year "grow the wrong way" — whatever that means — and, in the words of the Scots, "Leap year was never a good sheep year."
Leap Year Traditions
That the reversal of gender roles was well recognized at the beginning of the 17th century as a leap year motif is reaffirmed by this passage from the Treatise Against Judicial Astrologie by John Chamber, dated 1601:
If the nature of anything change in the leap-year, it seemeth to be true in men and women, according to the answer of a mad fellow to his misstress, who, being called knave by her, replied that it was not possible, "for," said he, "if you remember yourself, good mistress, this is leap-year, and then, as you know well, knaves wear smocks."
Leap Year Celebration 
Olivia Brynn and are celebrating this Leap Year with a bang! We both have books coming out that week, and both books are about take charge women who are "sleeping with the boss". Company Ink  is a contemporary erotic romance about an inner office affair. My book, Pinch of Naughty is the story of a 19th century housekeeper who has "night duty" too.



If you have time, stop by and celebrate Leap Year with us. 
We're talking with readers and authors, posting excerpts, giving away books and having fun.
 Chat is @ Gems' Place on Friday, March 2nd @ 7:00 EST.

Hope to see you there!

gem


Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Character flaws...how bad can they be?


Boy meets girl, boy and girl live happily ever after. Nice, but not a story. Boy meets girl, boy screws up and loses girl, fights win to her back – that’s a story.
A romance needs conflict. In romantic suspense, conflict often comes from external factors such as an assassin who’s hunting down the heroine. But in many other romantic stories, the conflict is internal and arises out the characters’ character.
Specifically their flaws. If characters were perfect people, they wouldn’t do the things that get them in trouble that causes the conflict that creates the story that keeps readers reading.
He’s arrogant and domineering; she’s defiant and impulsive. He’s reluctant to trust; she’s hiding a big secret. She needs frequent reassurance; he’s not comfortable communicating his feelings. The clash of flaws create a natural story.
But flaws can make characters unlikable to the extent that readers may hope they fail in the pursuit of their goal or worse not care enough to finish the book
 Is he arrogant or an asshole? Is she impulsive or too stupid to live? For an authors and readers, the difference can be a very fine line.
In my novella Secret Desires, Morgan and Jack both want more sexually from their relationship than they’re getting, but each fears jeopardizing what they do have by raising the subject. Morgan repeatedly goads Jack in an attempt to get her needs met. Although they both redeemed themselves in the end, some of my readers initially found one or both of them unlikable, Morgan for being spoiled, and Jack for being too passive.
Many a bride has been blinded by the stars in her eyes and ignores serious relationship issues and marries anyway. Yet, in Unexpected Consequences, a few reviewers took Melania to task for her naiveté in marrying a man who would spank her when she misbehaved. I wanted her to be naïve to the point of ignorance because I wanted her to be totally shocked by what happens.
Author Ranae Rose in her novel Taken Hostage creates a “hero” who robs a bank. He’d lost his job, but wasn’t desperate. He robbed the bank for money -- pure and simple.
Ranae has said some of her readers wanted him to have a better reason. I liked Lucy in Gem Sivad’s Quincy’s Woman, even though she was willful and spoiled. But I admit I liked her better in Perfect Strangers when she’d matured.
So how do you create characters who have the flaws necessary to drive the plot forward, yet keep them likable? Do you eject realism into a character’s character or do you give them flaws that aren’t – like the positives phrased as negatives at a job interview: “My weakness is that I pay too much attention to detail” or “I’m too productive and I expect others to be the same.”
Some character flaws would never fly in a romance. (Nor in real life for me!) Could you imagine a hero who cheats on the heroine? Or who had a history of domestic violence in a prior relationship? Or who can’t hold a job? There are clear-cut flaws to avoid, but between black and white is a lot of gray.
What thought process do you use in giving your characters flaws?

Sunday, February 19, 2012

6 Sentence Sunday

Here's a little teaser. 
6 sentences from the latest WIP from Mary Quast.
Available this summer.
Can't tell you the title.... yet. 

Seth Crowe is a crow shifter and hot as hell. 
He's on a mission to help a woman free her sensuality.


Pulling his wings tight against his body, he dives toward the earth, toward the human horizon. Romancing the sky, the erotic pressure combines with the orgasmic release. The sensation is one of perfect peace mingled with extreme pleasure that strains every nerve to the utmost. 

Opening his wings, he slows his decent and levels himself with the earth. Making his way through the landscape of buildings, he prepares to leave his god-like state and enter human existence. From a shadow in the sky, he will fulfill earthly yearnings with his voice, his body, his spirit.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Saturday with ShapeShifter Seductions ~ Lonely Hearts Club


A BELATED HAPPY SHAPESHIFTING VALENTINE'S DAY!

Here's a flash scene I wrote that takes place on Valentine's Day at the Midnight Stardust Supperclub, a new addition to Dante's Pleasure Club located outside the were-town of Talbot's Peak, Montana.
~~~~~~

The Lonely Hearts Club and the She-Wolf

"Lonely Hearts Club," Sarielle whispered once she mentally translated the words from her language to the planet's American English language. "That's me."

Ever since leaving on this intergalactic tour of other wolfen shapeshifter worlds, Sarielle had practiced speaking the various languages while studiously learning about the many different cultures. Now she glided along the fringes of the supperclub's dance floor.

Whirling embraced couples, all of them in what she identified as a deep romantic trance, danced to a type of music she found heart-stirring and pleasurable. The playful but elegant notes made her feel deliciously supple.

Sarielle also listened to the lovely silken swish of her long gown as she approached the special area where men, all in full humanoid form, and clothed in what were called tuxedos, took turns partnering the women who, like her, obviously had no man or mate in their life.

What she thought was called a midnight buffet had been placed in this Lonely Hearts Club area. As well, sparkling beverages of all kinds spilled into stemmed glassware. Her nose inhaled a feast of fragrances, especially the quite virile man who began striding toward her as if he'd caught her scent and now hunted her.

Maybe he did. He certainly had the handsome build and the powerful loins of a hunter. Although, Sarielle couldn't distinguish his wolf kind by his smell or his, to her eye, spectacular humanoid appearance.

Further, she wasn't entirely certain of all the dating and mating customs in this geological region on Earth. It had been a constant confusion she'd been unable to sort out during her culture-learning sessions.

****

Dante had carefully explained about the three extraterrestrial she-wolfs that would be joining the Valentine's Day extravaganza at the Midnight Stardust Supperclub. At first, Dh'liam had believed his cubhood pal was pulling his hind leg. It wouldn't be the first time. They'd pulled about every prank imaginable on each other, almost to the day Dante had roared out of Talbot's Peak on his Harley.

Several weeks later, Dh'liam had taken to the back roads on his Harley, determined to explore the vast areas of America that remained mostly uninhabited. What he'd discovered and experienced could easily fill a set of old-fashioned encyclopedias. Now for the sake of his pack, and for those who lived in Talbot's Peak, he'd returned to make certain they remained protected from the monstrous evil he'd encountered -- far beyond the tiger shapeshifter, Shere Khan, and his Yakuza ninjas.

However, at this moment in time, all he wanted to do was protect, and dance with the magnificent she-wolf beauty of extraterrestrial origin. The instant, he glimpsed her heart-shaped face he'd loosed an inner howl, while his cock straightened like it was cupid's drawn arrow.

The otherworldly woman-wolf possessed a petite and svelte figure beneath her fluid, backless peacock-blue gown. Yet more impressive to him, her lithe muscles were power-packed strength, and he knew she could run like the wind.

What captured his notice first was her tumbled wealth of hair, most of it piled artfully on top of her head. At the time, she'd had her back to him, and he'd stared at the cascading curls of rich dark russet, unable to move.

When she'd finally turned around, and lissomely moved in his direction, Dh'liam had forced himself to halt in his tracks. He'd had to fight the urge to stalk her, nip-kiss her neck, then sink his fingers into her tresses.

Determined she would not be leaving his hunter's sight this night, he'd strode toward her. Eyes that were a gorgeous burnished gold followed his progress, and they both halted within a few feet of each other, their gazes fastening on each other.

Without hesitation, he offered her a slight bow. Not one that would take his gaze off her, however. "I am Dh'liam. Welcome to Earth. Welcome to Talbot's Peak. Welcome to my arms. Or, perhaps, you would prefer something to drink and a bite to nibble on before we dance."

A smile teased the corner of her bow-shaped mouth, and he couldn't help but ravish her lips with his gaze. At the same time, she offered her hand to his, the one he'd extended without thinking about it. With a grace he'd rarely known, her hand alighted on his, and Dh'liam held on as if she were his next breath.

"Dancing in your arms is quite delightfully acceptable, Mr. Dh'liam. My feet are anxious to enjoy the dance floor. I am called Sarielle for short." She paused, her eyes pure sparkle. "Is that how you say it?"

"Sarielle," he savored like a meaty bone. "Would that be considered your first or familiar name, my beautiful she-wolf?"

Her puzzled frown halted every cell in his body. "I can't sniff you. You are a wolfen shapeshifter?"

"I am. But I have learned how to hide my scent. A long story," he added. Howls! the love trap had sprung, and he'd been caught. And Dh'liam wasn't about to chew a hunk out of his heart to escape. No way on the Mother's green earth.

"Ah, you hide your scent from enemies. I understand. Sarielle is my chosen name, a first name as you would call it in your culture, Mr. Dh'liam."

He drew her closer. He couldn't resist. "It's just Dh'liam, or Liam, as my friends often call me." When she cocked her head in apparent confusion, he continued. "It's a family name. No Sam, Dave or Harry in our pack."

"Your touch is pleasing, Dh'liam." Her tone was a soft sultry growl, and she moved closer so they were mere inches apart.

With her enchantingly exotic face nearly beneath his, Dh'liam realized she now stood on tiptoe. He felt the heat of her loins against his. Her mating fragrance seared his nostrils. And, as he swept his arm around her slender waist, he became aware the big band era music was transitioning into the romantic strains of a waltz.

"Do you waltz, Sarielle?" he thought to inquire like a gentleman.

"You lead, and I'll follow. We often dance on the galactic cruise ship."

With a low raw growl only for her ears, Dh'liam swung his she-wolf among the other dancers. True to her words, Sarielle matched him effortlessly, and he whirled them around the dance floor in time to the moonspun music.

Her strength flowed against him, a grace he'd hungered for, and never known it until now. Now, this very fierce moment of knowing what he'd needed, what he wanted.

So, Dante had been right in insisting he refresh his ballroom dancing skills. Dh'liam even mentally thanked his sire and dam for all the lessons they'd made him endure over the years, given his family believed in a formal presentation of themselves at times.

As the tempo of the music slowed, she allowed the tightening of his arm. And, when he wrapped both arms around her, she draped herself against him. Her small, long-fingered hands stroked the back of his neck before she laced her fingers, and held onto him tightly.

The thought of her pressed against some other man, regardless of species, boiled Dh'liam's blood. He leashed his stud-possessiveness, willing his focus on Sarielle instead.

He listened to the quickening of her breaths that were almost wolfen pants. He listened to the rapid passionate beat of her heart. He felt the way her loins cradled the large bone his cock had become, and wished it would last forever.

"I crave fresh air," she murmured toward his ear, once the music faded.

Immediately, Dh'liam eased her against his side, escorting her to one of the tunnel exits that led to a small clearing, one surrounded by a stand of majestic fir trees.

"Will the cold temperature bother you, my beautiful she-wolf?"

"I am from a colder region. It will feel refreshing, Dh'liam. Besides, I will depend upon your arms around me."

Once they stood outside in the crisp winter air, she snuggled against him, her cheek pressed against his love-struck, fast-pounding heart.

"Lonely Hearts Club?" he asked, hoping against hope.

Sarielle had been headed toward the area that Dante set up for the women who arrived alone and wanted dance partners. Even though, Dante had explained about their extraterrestrial visitors, he hadn't said if they were unattached, un-mated.

Now Dh'liam had to know.

"Yes, I am a lonely heart." She hesitated, and he felt her quiver in his embrace. "I had a husband..."

"Had a husband?" he roughly barked out as he instinctively clutched her closer against him.

"We were matched. We were to be mates." She shook now, and Dh'liam knew it wasn't because of the cold.

"What happened, Sarielle?" His hands roamed her back, reflecting the urgency he felt like sparks of fire throughout his entire body.

"I was not a good mate to him... I tried. But it was so... ho-hum, I believe you would say."

Dh'liam wanted to laugh, to bust a gut with his howls of laughter. Instead, he buried his nose, his lips in her hair, and wrapped himself around his she-wolf. Somehow, some way, he could convince her to stay with him on Earth. He would convince her to be his mate -- he would convince her that he would never be a ho-hum husband.
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal Saturday ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Thursday Thirteen – 13 Things to Do with Whipping Cream

Now that Valentine's Day is past, the chocolate is all gone (sob) but there is still a couple cans of whipping cream in the fridg.  Here's a few ideas of what to do with them.



1.  Of course… top off some yummy chocolate pudding, or hot apple pie, or ice cream.  Wait a minute.  Come on now… let’s add some spice to it!

2.  Dip strawberries into it and feed them to your special someone.  Swirl the whipping cream upon the lips and lick off together.


    3.  Make a whipping cream bikini or matching whipping cream undies and lick them off each other.



 4.  Place cut up banana pieces, strawberries, pop rocks candy onto naked belly (or any body part of your choosing) add chocolate syrup then top with whipping cream.  Allow your dear honey bunny to lick it off.  If you’re daring, try this and add a scoop of ice cream.  Wowza!

5.  “Hershey's syrup, whipped cream, and a Catwoman mask.” – Men’s Health magazine.  Okay…? Sorry, I can’t do the Catwoman mask thing.


6.  Now this old album cover gives me a few ideas I simply can’t express in words.  What’s an album?  If you don’t know… you shouldn’t be reading this post.




7.  Oh, you need the obvious idea?  Then simply cover your partner’s hottest spots.  You have to lick the cream away to get to the “goodies”.  Duh.

8.   Need a little warmth while you play with all this whipping cream?  Try this recipe:  1 cup heavy cream, whipped, add 1 ounce orange liqueur such as Grand Marnier, and whip together.  Ladies - let your honey put this mixture wherever you might want him to pay a lot of attention to, cut he’ll probably be there awhile.

9.  Add some strawberry syrup to the whipping cream then put it in the freeze for a bit before placing dollops onto nipples.  The flavor and the cold enhances the … uh… pleasure.

10. Run a line of whipping cream along the backbone of your partner then slowly… I mean slowly lick it off.  Don’t ever rush licking.  A burp or gas of any kind can be rather embarrassing in a moment of passion. 

    11. Whipping cream, blindfold, handcuffs, and pineapple flavored edible warming oil.  Need I say more?

   12.  Arm yourselves with cans of whipping cream; be sure to be naked, commence whipping cream war.  Note: shower afterwards may be just as much fun as the war.


13. “Have your guy lie back comfortably on the bed; spray whipped cream from his naval to his upper thighs. Begin slowly licking it off the body areas above and below his package. After each lick, kiss his mouth with your lips covered in whipped cream, bring your mouth back below his belt. Slowly lick all the whipped cream off his body — except the cream directly covering his penis and testicles. Not until he’s aching should you finally indulge there.” – Cosmopolitan magazine.  (Recommended by Laura Berman, PhD, sex therapist and creator of the DVD series Dr. Berman Can Help)







OHHHHHH…. HONEY….. I HAVE WHIPPING CREAM……


Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Happy Valentines Day!

Below, in a sweet snippet from my Eclipse Heat title, Quincy’s WomanLucy and Quincy have quarreled and Lucy decides a valentine may help her make up.  
I hope you enjoy!


Happy Valentines Day, Everyone!

Gem
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Monday, February 13, 2012

Excerpt Monday - Queen of Hearts

Queen of Hearts by Mary Quast

Striking a pose left her breathless.  A red ribbon wrapped around his black top hat, resting at an angle over his right eye.  The shoulders of his tuxedo coat accented his broad shoulders.  The coat opened to reveal a red vest, blue bow tie and black shirt.  Josh stood with his feet wide apart, black tails of his coat hung behind legs clad in black.  He wore fingerless red and black gloves with one hand resting on a carved rabbit head on his white cane.  His other hand was fisted at his side with tension.

Lifting her eyes back to his face, Josh's eyes bore into her soul with need and desire.  His jaw was taunt, until his lips slowly slide into a sexy smile.

When Josh spotted Jenny standing next to Tracie he saw the flush in her face and enjoyed the moment of watching her eyes travel across his body.  He imagined feeling her eyes and fingers on his body without clothing.  Taking a moment to admire his Queen of Hearts, she was incredibly sexy. 

Black leather boots fit tight up to her knees.  Her risqué gown was black velvet, trimmed in white satin with red hearts on her bodice.  The long part of the gown was open in the front along with the skirt hiding what most desperately wanted in the shadows of the material.  Jenny's hair was pulled back tight with a crown of crystals upon her head.  She wore makeup and red lipstick fit for the queen.  Resting her weight on one leg, holding a glass of champagne in one hand, she looked like true royalty.

His, yes, tonight and forever, she would be his. 

With determined strides he crossed the room; his eyes never leaving hers.  Josh noticed her lips part.  Ruby red lips simply desiring to be kissed.

"You made it!" Tracie laughed.  "The costume is so you.  You’re such a Mad Hatter."

Josh stopped so close to Jenny he could feel her heat.  He tipped his hat to the ladies but only focused on one.  He carefully took the champagne from Jenny.

"Well, I'm mad," handing the glass to Tracie, he raised an eyebrow at Jenny.

Her lips parted as if she was going to speak but Josh decided not to let a word escape.  He moved forward placing one hand firmly on her back and pulled her close.  With the other hand he cupped her head and brought his lips down on hers.  She tasted so good, he could certainly get used to kissing her every day...all day. Her lips parted allowing her tongue to dance with his.

 He felt her body wilt slightly as she let out a moan when his lips left hers for a moment.  His grip tightened on her.
Queen of Hearts is a FREE READ for the month of February.


READ IT NOW

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Cupid's Choice Bog Hop at ShapeShifter Seductions


Here's the first few paragraphs of my post for the Cupid's Choice Blog Hop.
~~~



The Were-Huntress, Cupid's Victim

Like background music, Selakiah smelled the woman's werewolf lover. The smiling blue-haired barista placed a second cup of Cappuccino, sprinkled with cinnamon, before her.

Without taking her gaze off Zuquotti, the mercenary-for-hire werebeast striding toward the coffee shop from across the street -- not for a fraction of a second, Selakiah thanked the young woman, then lifted the cup and took a small sip.

"Delicious," she praised.

"You're new in town. Planning on staying in our fair Talbot's Peak for awhile?" the barista chattily asked.

There weren't that many customers. Selakiah assumed it was because the lunch crowd had departed. Even though, shapeshifters and supernaturals were the main population of this off-the-beaten-track town in Montana, many of them appeared to have regular jobs and careers. So she'd observed the past three days.

"Depends," she answered. "I'm a working girl...as in private investigator," Selakiah added because of her snow bunny outfit, her generously displayed cleavage.
~~~

More at ~ shapeshifterseductions.blogspot.com/2012/02/shapeshifter-seductions-cupids-choice.html ~
~~~~~~

~ Have a Magickal Valentine's Day ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Forbidden Pleasures, Forgiven Desires


Peter was an assertive man, in complete control of his life and work. But in his closest relationships he was a natural submissive, and he had been searching for a dominant partner for as long as he could remember. Dissatisfied with his relationships, he had sought the services of a professional Mistress. Lisa enjoyed her work as a sadistic Dominatrix, exploiting his masochism and they soon became good friends. It seemed as if he had everything he needed, and his search was over. Then he met Suzy and fell in love with her, they were brought together by a quirk of fate. She had her own agenda, but there was something unspoken, something below the surface that drew them together, but would she love him? and if she did, would he be able to live a life denying his need to be dominated? 

Forbidden Pleasures, Forgiven Desires is out now from House of Erotica.
It is available from Amazon UK, Amazon US, All Romance eBooks and many, many more.


Excerpt:
He kissed her mound of Venus and using his tongue with a feather light touch, he slowly traced the line between her outer lips from the tip of her vulva all the way down the length of her labia. Then slowly he moved his tongue up and down, caressing the outer lips, he gently began prising the lips apart as if he were trying to open the sensitive petals of a delicate flower. She whimpered softly as he gained that intimate access, and drank from the juices of her passion, and like a cat lapping up cream, he was scooping up her precious nectar, burrowing his tongue deeper inside her and along the moist furrow of her sensitive channel.

She groaned and shuddered again as his tongue continued its sensual and meticulous exploration of her inner lips, he could feel the tiny spasms in the side walls of her cunt gripping his tongue as he was coaxing them apart, and as he probed deeper, sending her into spasms of ecstasy, he guided his tongue along the full extent of her labia, but every time he was within reach of her clitoris he would stop and continue his delightful teasing. Her heart was pounding and her heavy breathing was interspersed with sighs and groans of pleasure as he continued down until he had almost reached her anus. With his hands beneath her he gently prised her cheeks open. She shrieked and gasped as he moved his tongue and began rimming her sphincter.

The tension was becoming unbearable, she cried out shaking her head from side to side, desperate for that touch that would take her over the edge and give her the orgasm she desperately needed. She needed him to reach her nubbin, she was aching for him to take it between his lips and suck it hard, the way she wanted to suck his cock, and she was becoming frantic with lust.

Her sighs and groans were accompanied by a desperate writhing, as she fought against her natural instinct to grab him by the hair, and pull him forcefully into the core of her lust to assuage her craving, but she resisted the urge and struggled with the rapturous intensity of his slow and deliberate teasing. Again he moved his tongue along the full length of her, sucking and drinking her juices, and as he moved higher, his top lip brushed against the exposed tip of her clitoris, and she cried out in ecstasy.

By now her libido was in overdrive, her secret, hidden fantasies were coming alive, her imagination was running riot, making them more intricate. She felt as if she were outside of her body watching him surrendering to her, taking her pleasure from him as he gave himself to her, and as she exploited him with her thoughts, she cried out and she could feel her body trembling involuntarily, under the excruciating torment and tension that was building up within her...

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Tasty Tuesday - Amaretto Brownies

I love finding yummy recipes using some of my favorite ingredients... that is anything with chocolate! 
Now that Valentine's Day is coming, I thought of this particular one.  I highly recommend making with your honey. 


Nothing is better than having fun together in the kitchen!

Amaretto Brownies

1 1/2 sticks butter                                           1/4 tsp. salt

6 oz/ semi-sweet chocolate                            1 1/2 c. nuts chopped pecans & walnuts mixed

3 whole eggs                                                   1/3 c. amaretto liqueur

1 1/3 c. sugar

3/4 c. flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease a 9X13 inch baking dish.  melt butter in microwave.  Add chocolate and stir continuously with spoon until melted.  Add eggs and sugar.  Stir well.  Add flour and salt.  Stir well.  Add pecan and walnut mix.  Stir well.  Spread into prepared pan.  Bake for 30-35 minutes.  Cool.  When cool, poke with fork.  Pour amaretto over brownies.  Refrigerate overnight.  Makes 24 servings.

Now get cooking!

Friday, February 3, 2012

Short Stories from Erotic Autor Kris Andersson

An excellent collection of three short stories
with gay themes from well-known
erotic author Kris Andersson.
The stories include:

While the Wife’s Away: When the boss suggests an evening meeting at his home and makes it quite clear that his wife is away for the night, you can guarantee that there will be more than statistics and spreadsheets on the agenda – and by the end of the night a new sort of business partnership has been created…

Masters and Servants: It’s hard losing your job – and even harder looking for something new. But just how far will one man go to impress the boss? From steamy encounters in the office to lust in the potting shed, this is one job search that proves especially stimulating!…

The Sin of Father Anthony: When a new priest arrives in town, one lapsed Catholic decides it’s time to start attending Mass again – but he has more than absolution on his mind as he uses his girlfriend to get closer to the true object of his desire…

While the Wife’s Away and Other Stories is out now from House of Erotica.
It is available from Amazon UK, Amazon US, All Romance eBooks and many, many more.

Excerpt:
   As I walked into the room he smiled, that smile I had seen the first time we met, the smile that had led me to his home tonight.
He was dressed as I had fantasised he would be – black suit, crisp white shirt, black tie, even the black patent shoes.
He held a glass of red wine in his hand but placed it on the coffee table as I approached.
No need to talk this time, no time for questions and answers. I simply moved towards him, placed my hands on his shoulders and then pulled him towards me, my hand moving up to feel his neck and the back of his head as we started to kiss and his arms encircled me.

I'd somehow known that it would come to this, even though we had only met 24 hours earlier in rather more formal surroundings.
He’d welcomed me into that panelled room, a sophisticated space for our first meeting, but the way he looked at me, just a flicker of recognition that promised far more than we were there for, suggested there was something not on the formal agenda that would have to be addressed pretty quickly and as we shook hands, the hold lingered for just a second longer than required, as though our fingers already wanted to be better acquainted.
He was considerably shorter than me but stockier too, the bulky frame of a man past his prime perhaps but that didn’t bother me because I’d always enjoyed sex with men who knew what they wanted from years of experience.

OTHER BOOKS BY KRIS ANDERSON.