Saturday, January 31, 2009
authors out there, that means you can fwd it on to your fans if you
want. Editors and other staff, you can print if off (sorry about it
being 6 pages long...I got carried away) and leave a couple copies at
your local second-hand book store, at your other jobs, where ever you
want. Like I said, it's open to ANYONE. And if all this happens to
have the little side-effect of spreading the word about Tease, its
authors and the books they've written, well that would just be a
happy coincidence now wouldn't it? LOL!
Volume 1 is in the files section. Take a look. Eventually it will be
going out as an actual email. But until I figure out how to make my
program obey me, PDF (courtesy of Cara, thanks girl!) will certainly
If anyone has questions, suggestions, news to share...whatever, you
can email me.
Kisses, Hugs and Spanx,
Sadie Davies is running away for the second time in her life. She had been fifteen and in search of stardom the first time she ran away to the city. This time she is running from it.
After buying a rundown farm house near where she grew up, Sadie plans to search for the family she abandoned so many years ago. Intending to keep a low profile she sets up for a simplistic, solitary life but with sexy, know-it-all, neighbor Dustin Reed she finds it rather difficult, and he's as complicated as they come.
About the authorEver since Tara Nichols was a little girl she has had an affinity for romantic adventures. With crushes on the likes of Tarzan and Hans Solo she grew up looking for the perfect gentleman rogue. When she is not writing about romance, erotica or paranormal fiction she can be found tending her garden, keeping bees or reading a spy novel. Tara roams free on the flat prairie land in Manitoba Canada where she lives with her young son and husband.
The other book I have available through Cobblestone-press is Secrets of Summer. http://www.cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/secretsofsummer.htm
Content: Erotic Romance This title contains explicit language and graphic sex.
It has been years since Pyper has seen any sign of Liam Patterson so she is surprised when he reappears outside his old stomping grounds. More surprising is when he addresses her by her name. By the looks of Liam very little had changed about the beach loving playboy.
He was just as handsome and just as flirtatious, although it never was her he had been flirting with, until now. As their secrets unravel both summer residents are faced with the thought of never returning to Victoria Beach, the place where their fantasies began.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Something new I'm trying, as I can do them, is a once a week book review, on Thursday. As I read books, if I can remember and squeeze it into my other duties, I'll post a short note here.
Lara Calladine is haunted by childhood memories of being held prisoner in an ice cave and kept sane by the whispered stories told to her by her imprisoned aunts. They instilled mage and Carpathian magic deep within her and then helped her escape. She has spent years searching for the cave in hopes of finding the answers to the riddle of her past as well as finding her aunts who may have given their lives saving her.
Nicolas De La Cruz has returned to the Carpathian Mountains--his homeland--on orders from his eldest brother, Zacarias, to bring news of a conspiracy to the prince of their people. He is weary of his long existence and plans to end it away from his brothers where they will be unable to stop him once he has fulfilled his duty.
Lara and Nicolas paths collide in an explosive adventure that rocks the Carpathian world.
After a not too thrilled rendition in Possession, I absolutely felt the Dark series was back on track with Curse. Considering for the length of the series that only two books, in my mind, have had shortcomings, I would have to say Ms. Feehan is an immaculate world-builder and teller of tales. Able to draw you in and 'live' the story through the characters, I felt compelled to get to the end of the story to discover the ending. An absolute page turner with more twists than the California coastline!
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
I'm blogging with the Royal Blush Authors today. Come visit me.
I'm discussing promotion and marketing in regards to your identity.
Do you have one? Time to find out.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Have you asked yourself that? I know I have. Is it when you've completed something, made it nearly flawless before another set of eyes read it? (Ask my friends about this one-I'm anal about perfection before someone else lays eyes on a single line.) Is it when you know you've done the best you can with your editor to present a story for publication? How about when you submit? Is one publisher a better home than another? What about the technical things, like covers and promotions? When are they good enough?
Honestly, it's different for each person, for very story. Every situation is different. Even between writers and agents.
Being good enough though is a level of perfectionism. We want that perfect story, we want it to be perfectly clean before it goes in for submission. We want it to be a perfect example of our writing when it is released, whatever the format.
Wanna know something?
Mistakes happen. No story is perfect. The key to not losing your mind over this seemingly uncontrollable line of possible misadventures waiting to happen is simple: Do your best at every step.
A perfectly self-edited story is a glorious thing, but if that were the case, publisher editors wouldn't even be needed.
A perfecly edited story wouldn't need line edits to catch those gremlin commas, or the occasional dropped 'a', or 'then/than' mishap.
My point is simple. Perfection is in the eye of the beholder.
A well written story is the key, so don't sweat the minute details. Be aware, learn, and build on your knowledge with every scene, every story you write, but don't forget to put perfectionism in its place. It's a hard balance, but it's doable. Thousands of stories a year prove this. Create, and perfect. Don't write expecting perfection. Write striving for creative disbelief to overtake your reader, for that compulsory urge to reach the end and discover the conclusion, to reach that escapist plateau where all things are possible. Write what makes you happy first. By the time you're done with that story, it will be good enough.
It might even border on perfect.
(I've corrected at least five different typoes per line in this blog post alone, as well as edited and added to it before I was happy with the finished product enough to let other eyes read it.)
Saturday, January 24, 2009
"The Wolf's Sister" by R. F. Long
Publication Date: November 11, 2008
Cover art by Natalie Winters
A love transcending race and culture…a secret that could cost everything.
A Tale of the Holtlands, Book 1
Elite Fey'na warrior Shan is driven only by hatred for Gilliad, the Lord of River Holt, the human responsible for the brutal slaying of his innocent sister. Vengeance will be his as soon as he can find a way to confront his enemy. His mind is set; his path chosen. Then he meets Jeren…
Jeren of River Holt flees for her life, desperate to escape the clutches of her brother, Gilliad, before his misuse of magic consumes what remains of his sanity. She finds safety and protection with Shan…but only so long as she hides her kinship with the Lord of River Holt. As they are pursued across the northern snow plains, their deepening trust turns to love.
A love that could shatter when he learns who, and what, she is.
Warning: This title contains violence, torture, and a wolf-lover's worst nightmare. Readers may find their imaginations hopelessly ensnared in a beautiful and terrible world of magic.
My Website: www.rflong.com
She skidded to a halt where the trees descended into a gully, hoping the edge might offer an advantage. She grabbed a hefty branch from the ground and faced her pursuers. Five of them, all men.
"She's waiting for her Fair One friends to drop out of the sky and save her!"
The wind stirred the leaves overhead.
Drop out of the sky, Shan. Please! Do as he says and save me!
Nothing happened. She heaved in a breath.
"Leave me alone." She clenched her teeth, her knuckles white where she gripped her makeshift weapon.
Their laughter roared in her ears. They couldn't imagine that anything could hurt them, least of all one small woman, so outnumbered. The first walked forwards, a knife in his hand. The irony of it twisted in her stomach—Jeren, sister of the Scion of Jern, heiress to River Holt, killed by a bunch of drunken louts from a hole like Brightling's Dale? It wasn't going to happen. She would not allow it!
Jeren lashed out. The impact of the wood on his arm jarred through her. His bone shattered.
She didn't pause. They weren't going to line up and politely attack her one by one. The other four scrambled forwards, a ragged pack who, sensing danger, would rely on their numbers. She crouched low. There were too many, despair told her. The foremost caught her arm and she saw the flash of a knife. Pain exploded in her side.
An unearthly shriek came from above her and something white plummeted into the face of the third man, beak and talons rending his flesh. He fell beneath the screeching owl, flailing wildly. Anala hurtled into the one with the bloody knife, her whole body her weapon. They tumbled down the gully, man and wolf, a cacophony of screams and snarls.
The other pair faltered. They were staring at Jeren in horror now, their faces pale with dread. No, not at her…past her, above her…
Shan unfolded silently from the tree branch and dropped to the ground, his sword already drawn.
"Run away," he told them. His voice rippled like the breeze through the leaves. "Run away now."
Friday, January 23, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Sorry for the later than usual weekly post. I'm recovering from a root canal and not quite all here... No comments from the peanut gallery on the state of my mind please.
As promised, here are the results from last week's polls.
Thanks to Poll Daddy for the results. Thank you to everyone who took the time to make their opinion known. I'd smooch you, but ... Well, only half of my face is working right now. ;)
#1. Do you feel these file sharing sites have encouraged or hindered sales?
|File Sharing sites have noticeably cut into my sales.||12||70.59%|
|Maybe brought in new readers.||5||29.41%|
|Encouraged new readers! Yay!||0||0%|
#3. If you answered the first question 'yes', do you purchase the same in any other format to keep?
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Crowning A Warrior King!
Life has been calm and quiet for Aran for almost seven years since moving into Banter. She is a prosperous business owner, has friends, and helps those in need without question. Yet a delivery of a mysterious jewel encrusted box changes all of that for her in an instant.
Not only is the mysterious box enchanted, revealing someone knows of her deepest secrets, it imprisons a man unlike any other. Bold, fearsome, strong. A warrior from a place she's never heard of, a land she's never known. And the most glaring fact to his arrival is she is the only one with the knowledge to set him free, with a magic he cannot trust.
Rordan must return to the kingdom of Eglandor to stop the wicked sorceress who has imprisoned him, deliver the throne to King Tah-lel's appointed heir, and fulfill his destiny with the woman from another time, another world. And there's only so much time to do it all with the King's health failing and an uprising from within only waiting for the moment to claim the throne.
Coming this summer! Watch the website for updates!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
At the Stroke of Midnight
Karen Michelle Nutt
Paperback: 104 pages
Publisher: Otherworldly Romances; 1st,Revised edition
# ISBN-10: 061523786X
# ISBN-13: 978-0615237862
Barnes and Noble:
In three days, it would mark the anniversary of the death of Dean McCloud, a western movie star of the 70's. The coroner called it a suicide, leaving his fans disillusioned.
Tricia Lancaster, a reporter for a small time newspaper volunteered to cover the story. She felt a connection to the movie star even though he died before she was born. She thought if she wrote the story, her curiosity would be satisfied and she could move on with her life.
When she's transported back in time to 1970, she realizes she has a chance to save Dean, convince him not to pull the trigger. After meeting Dean, Tricia is convinced with his overconfident attitude he would have never kill himself.
Dean McCloud thinks Tricia is trippin' when she tells him she's from the future. However, when Tricia's predictions start coming true, Dean realizes maybe she's not a crazy chick after all.
Someone murdered him and they have until the Stroke of Midnight on New Years Eve to find out who wants him dead.
Excerpt: Chapter One
Tricia Lancaster parked her car across the street. She leaned on her steering wheel as she gazed at the two-bedroom house that was once Dean McCloud's home. To the right like a backdrop, she could see the Hollywood sign in the distance.
McCloud had been an American icon in the '70's, when angel flight pants and afghan coats were in style. He starred in the western series, The Long Trail where every week he kept the west safe from outlaws. He was on his way to being on the big screen, landing a part that would have been perfect for his bigger than life persona. He could have had it all, but he threw it all away by blowing his brains out.
Some believed it was an accident while conspiracy theorists believed he'd been murdered. The coroner called it a suicide, leaving his fans disillusioned.
His home was turned into a shrine. It was a museum of sorts for the long dead actor as if all of America should give homage. Tricia was here to cover a story for the local newspaper.
In three days, it would mark the anniversary of the death of Dean McCloud. There would be thousands of flowers and presents covering the lawn and a vigil would begin a minute before midnight, the documented time of his death.
She was here to do the story and take some pictures. She'd film the rest later. She begged for the piece even though it wasn't a high priority for the small town paper.
She couldn't tell anyone the true reason she wanted the story. She felt connected to Dean McCloud as if she should know him.
It started with the dreams. Vivid true-to-life dreams before she knew he was even an actor. For God's sake, she wasn't even born when Dean McCloud died. She hadn't even seen one of his TV shows until they aired on Nickelodeon. Now she owned the entire three-year series on
DVD. She bought his biographies and purchased magazines on e-bay that had pictures and articles about the actor, but none of them touched what she knew from her dreams.
She opened her car door and stepped out. Without a backwards look, she locked it as she made her way to the front steps. She took a deep breath before she entered. She was here to take the tour. She should have done it a long time ago, faced the ghost so to speak. She hoped seeing his home and doing the story would finally put her obsession of him to rest.
She needed to have a normal relationship, not this morbid affair with a man who died over thirty years ago. She paid the elaborate fee and took the pamphlet that gave a brief description of Dean McCloud. She walked into the living room where the twenty-something docent was talking about Dean as if he were a close and personal friend.
At first glance, Tricia knew most of the furniture wasn't original. The recliner was brown; his had been blue. The lamp should have been made out of glass marbles instead of the gold tinted glass. The carpet wasn't even close since it used to be green shag.
She walked down the hall glancing at the photos depicting Dean as a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, with his shoulder-length dark hair, sideburns and contagious smile that showed off the sexy dimple in his right cheek.
She moved on, venturing toward the bedroom. She hesitated at the doorway. This room was where he had decided he had nothing to live for. She didn't go in. Instead, she took a detour into the den. The floor television model was showing a Long Trail episode, one of her favorites. Dean, or rather his character Samuel Baines cleverly stopped a bank robber from killing a hostage. Dean was talented. He was charming and lethal all in one.
Ignoring the roped off area, Tricia made herself at home and took a seat. She tossed her backpack at her feet. Dean had sat in this chair; this was his. She lightly caressed the threadbare arms of the recliner. She snuggled down to watch the show, catching a whiff of cologne. She smiled wondering if it was Dean's scent forever embedded within the fabric of his chair.
On the television, she watched Dean out draw the outlaw. This episode, this scene in the saloon was his last.
Tricia was startled awake by a loud popping sound followed by screams. She catapulted out of the chair expecting to have to take cover. Fear was replaced by confusion. The last thing she remembered was watching Dean's final performance on the old television console.
She looked around the crowded room wondering how she slept through the caretaker setting up for the seventies costume party. The men had long hair and side burns and the women wore dark eye shadow, flowered tops and suede boots.
Tricia deduced the popping sound came from someone uncorking a champagne bottle. A woman in a tight short skirt and go-go boots was trying to pour the bubbly into two flute glasses.
“Hey, do you need a beer?”
“What?” She turned, seeing the Corona inches from her face before she looked up. “No, I'm …” Her eyes widened.
“I must be dreaming. Dean McCloud?”
His cocky grin spread across his face.
Tricia was convinced she was still asleep, only she never dreamt with this much clarity. “Dean?”
“That's me, Baby.”
She looked around her, taking in the subtle differences that made the home seem more … McCloud-like, was all she could come up with for now. Dean sat down in the chair and snaked out a hand, grabbing her arm and pulling her onto his lap.
Her arms went around his neck, but that was simply preservation. It was not meant as a come on. Dean obviously thought otherwise. He smiled his eyes taking in every feature before his gaze landed on her lips. She knew the moment he decided to kiss her. His eyes turned a shade darker, and his eyelids closed halfway. Her heart pounded in her chest. She prayed if this was a dream she wouldn't wake up. Dean McCloud was going to kiss her.
Dean loved these parties, women throwing themselves at him as if he were a god. This one was cute even in her odd attire. He loved the way her wild curls framed her pixie-like face. Simply enchanting, he thought as his fingers caressed a curly strand.
She seemed skittish, innocent, so unlike the other women who threw themselves at his feet. He wanted a small taste of her before he let her go. His lips came coaxingly down on hers with tantalizing persuasion, surprisingly she didn't object. The pleasure was like sweet agony as she met his caress, as if she had been waiting for him. He took more.
Tricia relished in the way his tongue traced the fullness of her lips before slipping between them. While he tasted her, she clung to him. Passion inched through her veins making her want the kiss to go on forever.
She was kissing Dean McCloud, the man she dreamt about, with the contagious smile and polished moves hands moved to her waist holding her close. That felt too good. Her mind screamed it couldn't be happening. The man died over three decades ago, she thought as reality came hurtling down on her. She pushed him away, breaking contact as if his lips had suddenly burned her. A shadow of annoyance crossed his face until he must have realized panic rioted within her gaze.
Dean hadn't meant to scare her. His fingers lightly caressed her arm. “Don't fly away little chick. I won't hurt you.” This was a private party among friends to celebrate the wrap up the last episode of The Long Trail. Dean wondered who brought her.
“Forgive you?” he asked.
“Yeah. I have to know if you're real.” She touched his face his ears, his nose, which caused him to chuckle. When her fingers touched his mouth, he took hold of her wrist halting her. He tried to reclaim her lips but she moved her head to the side and his kiss landed on her cheek.
He pulled back to look at her. She tasted wonderful, like strawberries, all sweet. He wanted her, but he had enough ethics not to pursue this one. She screamed of commitment and he wasn't offering. “Chickie, I need to tend to my other guests.” His fingers twirled a honeysuckle-colored curl before he gently removed her from his lap and stood. Since she looked like she was about to pass out, Dean placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her so that she fell easily into the chair he had just vacated.
She looked up at him with those big amber-colored eyes. Man, she was one foxy lady. He cupped her chin, gliding his thumb over her lips that were still swollen from his touch. He was tempted to take from her again, but then his gaze found hers and he knew it would be too much.
He casually stepped back and melted away to join the others who were making bets on how many shots of whiskey Fred Mack could take before he fell on his face.
Tricia sat there not moving for a full minute. Forget that she had miraculously traveled back in time and was thoroughly kissed. She glanced around the edge of the chair to see Dean throwing his head back with a roaring laugh.
The phenomenon was Dean McCloud was alive.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Katy is a sixteen year old avid reader and aspiring author and
illustrator who has won local awards for her artwork. Just before
Christmas, Katy and her mother became homeless. They were evicted
from their apartment and have been living in hotel rooms (when they've
been lucky) or their car (when they've not been so lucky) since then.
Katy has been blogging about life on the streets, and you can read all
about how this incredibly sweet mother and daughter ended up in this
situation here: http://destinationanywherebuthere.blogspot.com/ As
Katy states on her blog, "Homelessness has many faces. And sometimes
it happens to have a computer." Both Katy and her mother seem to have
very positive outlooks, but it's clear they're in some real trouble.
That's where this auction comes in. All proceeds will go toward
helping Katy and her mother get back on their feet. This is a pair
that are actively looking for ways to improve their situation, and
just need a little push to help them get there. So, please bid
generously and know that you're doing a wonderful thing to help two
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
TRUSTING DELILAH, book one of the Aiza clan shifter series.
Roman Aiza is the second born son of the Aiza clan. He also owns and operates a private security company and has an ongoing contract with one of Florida's most influential residents. He is patrolling at a party when he encounters a woman who will haunt him. A woman who at their first meeting, manages to walk right out of his hands when he follows her for trespassing. She manages to do this without giving Roman a single reason why she is in the depths of the house he is protecting. When he does finally locate her days later, his goal is to prove that his instincts are wrong. She is not the woman that all of his senses are clamoring for.
Yet when the daughter of Roman's largest and closest account is kidnapped and held for ransom, will they be able to build a trust between them? Or will their own secrets keep them apart?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
This week's focus: Epirating. Do we beat 'em, or join 'em? Please note, at the end of this post there are polls. You will have to visit the blog to view the poll. Thank you.
So... Where to start?
Epirates. What are they? The blunt truth is they are people like you and me. They hold or manage sites, usually on file sharing webhosts. Can anyone spot the oxymoron in that sentence?
I'll give you a minute....
Okay. It's this: Epirates // File Sharing. Only it's not a joke like Military // Intelligence. One does NOT roll with the other, because file sharing is considered just that: sharing. Recipes, public domain literature, royalty free music, royalty free photos. You get the idea. What Epirates are, literally, is pirates. Thieves. Unscrupulous individuals who have no care nor interest in the content they have in their hands, on their computers and in their "file sharing" systems. They toss these files around between each other as if they were nothing. And will do anything to keep these files available even after being repeatedly shut down by the courts, if the courts even have jurisdiction.
Put bluntly, it is because in legal terms they are 'nothing'. A digital file can't be litigated as a tangible, material item, so theft is hard to prove. Now this isn't poking at data files like emails and such that can be subpoenaed. That is written proof the legal courts are looking for to substantiate wrong-doing. What I'm discussing today is the basic premise of theft and copyright. So sit back because I'm on my high horse, soapbox, whatever you want to call it and I have the microphone.
Earlier this week, I was informed by Author X that I should just 'suck it up' and find a way to 'take advantage' of these thieves. Reward them if you will be giving all ('all' being discretionary, I'm sure) my books up for free and quit complaining about being stolen from because, well, I can't stop them and the law and government don't give a damn about them. Author X's argument was if I give my books away, I will be garnering readers to come, that they will look for books to buy because they found it online to read. Before I go any further, let me say that Author X is a NYT Best Seller, multipublished, and International, just for a little background.
Want to know what I have to say to that? Don't worry, it won't be mean....much.
The people who have these sites don't care. That is true. To them, it's nothing (again). They are 'files', intangibles. That people who use these sites do so to not have to spend money is also true. Letting them get books for free to encourage future purchases is a crock. Giving books away to these people to 'share' does not increase sales, because the majority of people who go to these sites are specifically looking for things they want, but don't want to have to spend money on. Libraries were the predecessor to this type of sharing, only the item (yes, I'm talking books folks) was ONE. It could not magically multiply because five people checked it out in a month. That encouraged readers to purchase. The lack of supply when in demand prompted readers to hunt for the books they wanted.
File sharing has destroyed that premise. Put bluntly, one file can be downloaded infinite times. Let's just say, 1,000 times in a month. No, that's not a hard number, just a point. That's 1,000 copies the originator will never be paid for, nor the multitude of people who worked to produce it. Say five of those people also have sharing sites. That's another 5,000 downloads. So we're up to 6,005 copies. In a month. If you're a New York Times Best Seller, I can easily imagine that being triple the downloads in a month, especially at first release. Why?
Simply put, why would a person spend money on a physical, takes up space book, when they can own the exact same thing, forever, online, for FREE? The supply and demand issue has vanished. That book will always be there. Somewhere. They switch computers? The reader's favorite author is on any number of sharing sites. Heck entire backlists have been found. For some that is a very long list.
I know some people don't care about these sites. And that's their perogative. Some don't consider what happens on those sites as theft. I do. It's a difference of opinion and I respect that. The thing that upset me was the 'suck it up' attitude. Going back to Author X, I'm sure they make quite a bit more than I do, so maybe to them, the loss of a few grand every royalty payment doesn't bother them. Maybe they've conceded the fight. Maybe they really believe that theft on this scale is permissable. I don't know.
I had posted a note some time ago about respecting copyright on this blog. It can be found here. Basically I was told to quit moaning about it. Education isn't working. I disagree. If the only means I have is educating the reading public, then I will use it. The government isn't going to do anything about it. Authors don't have the legal or monetary backing like the music industry (ergo Napster) to do anything about it. Some have no problem downloading bootleg movies instead of watching VOD or just going to see it in a theatre. The same for music. Downloading a song here or there doesn't seem like a big deal, but in truth it is. It is still theft. The only things I have downloaded are royalty free music and RF pictures, which can be seen in my book videos, and public domain books, from The Gutenberg Project, free reads from authors and free stories from retailers. I've purposely looked for them to find new authors.
Does it burn my cookies to be stolen from? You bet it does. Did it bother me to be told this? A resounding yes. I want to make a living writing. In today's economy, in the shakeup of the industry, it's not looking like it will happen but I really want to stay optimistic. I want to write. I want to make enough money for it to mean something to me. For some, that's taking the family to dinner (as a small press and ebook author I can relate to the monetary difference) or making the six month in full mortgage payment.
I am a published author. Does that make my work any less valuable than any RCA recording artist? Than any MGM contracted actor? No. Yet according to Author X, I'm suppose to find a way to accept, deal, and maybe find a way to take advantage of this theft, which means working with the criminals to benefit us both. And that right there is why I can't agree with Author X. I wish them all the best, but in this instance, we will disagree.
Below are the polls. You can only vote once per poll.
Thank you for reading,
P.S. All voting information is annonymous and no information will be kept or viewable to the public, including the answers until the end of the polling period, midnight January 19th, 2009, when I will post the answers next week. The polls are for any reader, including authors.
Monday, January 12, 2009
I hope some of y'all can stop by and say hi.
TIA. With much love and hugs. And a little groveling... Seriously... I can beg... If that would help.
Diana Castilleja || Diana DeRicci
Best Selling Author
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead. Do not walk ahead of me, for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me, either. Just leave me the hell alone.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and a leaky tire.
It's always darkest before dawn. So if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.
No one is listening until you make a mistake.
Never test the depth of the water with both feet.
It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.
If you think nobody cares if you're alive, try missing a couple of car payments.
Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.
If you lend someone $20, and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.
Some days you are the bug, some days you are the windshield.
The quickest way to double your money is to fold it in half and put it back in your pocket.
Timing has an awful lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.
A closed mouth gathers no foot.
There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
The Duke of Trahorn consented to marrying the widowed Lady Elgar as a last resort. Because of his physical limitations, he now prefers companionship to sexual need.
Meeting Serena stirs emotions and tangible reactions long dead. Can he trust her realization of a plot to see his demise?
"Talk to me, Serena, I'm your husband. And it seems we've had a strange enough courtship; let us start our marriage with the truth, at least behind closed doors."
"I agree. I make a terrible liar. I get caught up in them and stammer and blush..."
"I'd prefer honesty, at least in private."
"Then can we do it again? I'd like to touch you...Unless that's not proper?"
Relief flooded through him. Never did he think he'd have a relationship that would transcend to this level, especially knowing the girl less than a day. "You will be sore in the morning, Serena." His words were a warning but she laughed at them.
"Then a bit more won't hurt, unless you're not up to it?" Her shy words were meant to provoke him, but he accepted the innocence behind them. Later he would know she had understood the double meaning, but for tonight, her innocence overwhelmed him.
"Serena, whatever happens in our bed chamber is between us, always. I don't tell tales or boast to my friends, do you understand? Here, this is our private haven. I'll never laugh at you, and I expect you to be honest if you don't like something."
"Alright, my lord. Thank you. Does that mean I can touch you?" He dropped his weight onto his back, lying spread for her eyes and hands.
"Oh, Zane, I never knew..." she said, her voice erotically low and inviting. Slim fingers danced along his chest and he didn't find it surprising when her mouth covered his flat nipple, his cock hardening against her palm. "Anything?" she whispered.
"Within reason, Serena. We'll learn our limits together."
Friday, January 9, 2009
Here's a look at my release schedule:
Trusting Delilah : E Jan 15;
A Trust Earned : E Mar 15; Print June 15
Crowning A Warrior King : E May 15; Print Aug 15
Unbound Trust : E July 15; Print Oct 15
fourth book : E Oct 15; Print Dec 15
And this is just under Castilleja. Now it's not in stone and dates will change, but it's pretty darned close from what I can tell. There's a good chance it will flow into 2010, and I'm fine with that.
If all goes well, I'll also have two DeRicci stories. Look for more about those on the other blog. So yeah, you're counting right. That's 7 releases this year.
Here's what's on the block to write or finish this year (2009):
One Mythical Short
One Gemstone Short
Loren, second Agent book
Joaquin, second Vampire book
Burn, Second Granier Falls Book
A Dangerous Nirvana Fantasy
Don't let it be said that I do not work.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Writers are feeling it too. Publishers are reabsorbing imprints or discontinuing lines, laying off or simply letting go. Book stores are closing, from the big ones to the Mom and Pop's. There's signs already that it's going to get worse before it gets better.
The advice of the day? Batten down and weather the storm. It's going to be a bumpy and not always interesting in a good way kind of ride. Watch the small press ventures. It will be interesting to see how 2009 stacks up.
That being said, I'm not giving up. I am an author. I tell stories. Or try to. *grin* So in the coming months you're going to see quite a bit of me.
January 15th is a big deal. I have two stories coming out. Trusting Delilah as Diana Castilleja
and then Seduction in Moonlight as Diana DeRicci, part of the Pantheon Anthology,
Both of these will be available on ARe as ebooks with Tease Publishing but will be in print in the coming months. If you're going to RT in April, look for the Tease authors. They will have the Pantheon available at RT. Some awesome, sexy, sensually hot stories there.
I'm equally excited about the Aiza books. This is a fast paced, sensual series of paranormal, shifters and fantasy. You'll just have to read them to see which book has what. LOL
On the home front, Lil J is back in school. Yes, that probably was me you heard shouting on Tuesday, in joy. He wasn't bad, not at all, but I need my 'me' time every now and then, and when he's in school, I get it.
Rascal (sorry, no pics this week) has finally hit three pounds. He's learning his commands and loves to fetch whatever happens to be thrown. He has mini-sized tennis balls that he loves. He's twelve and a half weeks now. A whole three months. Quite a bit bigger than the little thing we brought home, but picture a large potato with legs and that's about his size. Three pounds really isn't big. And he's discovered he can bark. Not a yapper, but he's just ferocious when someone walks in the door.
I also received an ebookwise ebook reader for Christmas. I'm getting used to it and have read several books on it already. Most recently, Christmas hookup a free ARe read, The Soft Edge of Midnight by Stella and Audra Price, one of my Tease pubby-pals, and I have tons more, books that I've been stockpiling. I'm looking forward to getting more ereading done in the future. The TBR pile has been growing for most of two years. I need to do something about it. LOL
That's the update for this week. Thanks for stopping by!
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Almost seven years ago they landed on Earth -- thirty-one aliens, fugitives from a lifetime of slavery and cruelty. Now they were dispersed among the populace, unidentifiable because of their shape-shifting abilities.
Simolif knew when his brother Jebaral found his life's mate. The blood lines in his arm had increased by one. And the sight of it had thrilled him like nothing else could . . . unless he, too, could find someone who could accept him for what he was, and who would not scream in fright to see his true self.
He never expected to find Professor Sarah Drumman. As an astronomer, she suspected there were creatures from another galaxy now walking the Earth. And she wanted to prove her theory to the world.
Their meeting would forever change their lives. Too bad hers meant nothing to the creatures who also had landed on Earth looking for their missing cargo.
It was dusk but not dark enough to turn on her headlights. Still, Sarah was stunned to see the elegant figure casually leaning against the polished black motorcycle when she turned the corner and pulled up next to the gate. Staring mutely at his impeccably dressed figure as he unfurled himself from where he had been waiting, she was unaware that the gate’s security system had recognized her car and begun opening for her to pass through. Simon made a gesture for her to drive in. Nodding slightly, Sarah drove into the complex and around to her parking slot. Simon followed on the big shiny Harley.
There was an uncovered space two slots over from hers. Visitors were allowed to park in the uncovered spaces, but he already seemed to know that and pulled into it before she had the chance to tell him. She stood near the trunk of her car and continued to watch in mute fascination as he parked the bike and got off. He was dressed in a pair of creased khaki pants and a long-sleeved shirt. A black helmet and a black leather jacket were tied to the rear of the seat. And on top of them was a dark pink tulip. Her eyes got wider.
Before she could comment, or even give him a hello, Simon grabbed the flower and started to approach her.
Whoa. A flower. The flower was for her.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of the sight of the partially opened bud riding in his fingers. No one had ever brought her flowers before. Least of all a strange man whom she’d just met. And the ones her father had sent her before he died didn’t count.
Sarah raised her eyes to see his nearly turquoise ones staring right at her. Every hope, every wish she had fought and argued against suddenly came back with a vengeance. He approached her slowly, moving closer and closer until she felt inexorably pulled toward him. His body was a magnet determined to dominate her. Determined to guide her toward that precipice and let her go free-falling toward ... what?
What does it matter if he’s right there falling with you?
She had to say something, anything, no matter how bland it sounded. Her panties were getting wetter and her knees shakier with every step he took.
"I thought you were going to call me." The accusation in a pissed-off tone of voice came out of her mouth. Sarah blinked and took one mental step back.
"Forgive me. Although I actually said I would contact you, not call you." Simon stopped less than a yard away and held out the tulip. It was a lovely bud on the verge of opening. The color reminded her of freshly scrubbed lips right after a morning’s tooth brushing. Or baby toes. Blushing pink little baby toes.
"What makes you smile, Sarah?"
Her head jerked up at his question. "Huh?"
Chuckling in that deep, dark way he had that turned her insides gooey, he held out the flower for her to take. "I’m not familiar with your dating customs here. So if I do something wrong, please don’t take it personally. In fact, you would be doing me a favor by correcting me." Giving the tulip a little shake, he mutely urged her to take it. "I was told you might like this. I hope the smile is a result of it."
Not familiar with the dating customs?
Well, crap, Sarah. He’s not from around here, remember? For that blunder you just earned yourself a place in the Idiots’ Hall of Shame.
She reached out to take the flower from his fingers. His hand shifted, taking hers as she accepted the bud.
Warmth poured like a deluge from his body into hers. It shot through her arm and went straight to her heart and lungs, until every breath she took afterwards sent contentment and joy rushing through every vein.
Her fingers involuntarily clutched his hand as these unexpected feelings closed around her. She heard a gasp, then realized it had come from her. A moment later Simon was standing so close to her she could feel the heat of his body through his clothes. He continued to hold her one hand, but his other one was now resting along her neck. Her eyes lifted to find him searching her face.
"Are you all right? You went pale." The tender concern nearly was her undoing.
"I’m ... I’m ..." Oh, damn, she couldn’t think straight! She could barely breathe, but when she did the air was infused with that light, minty aroma. Heaven help her, but the man was intoxicating!
Runner’s Moon: Simolif
Book 3 of the "Runner’s Moon" Series
An erotic sci-fi romance novel
by Linda Mooney
Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press Torrid
Buy Link: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=290
On Fictionwise: http://www.fictionwise.com/eBooks/eBook67192.htm?cache
Size: 71K (novel)
Genre: sci-fi erotic romance
See the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YH-Ku8d4yHU
Readers' Choice #1 Torrid Bestseller Of The Month
Friday, January 2, 2009
The Writer's Chatroom
| || || |
|Chat with JA Konrath|
JA Konrath is the author of the Lt. Jacqueline "Jack" Daniels thriller series, the latest of which is Fuzzy Navel. His books have been translated into ten languages, he's been nominated for numerous awards (and had won a few), and he's been published in more than 70 magazines and anthologies since 2004.
He also edited a mystery anthology, and wrote the horror novel Afraid under the name Jack Kilborn. His blog, A Newbie's Guide to Publishing, had over 800k words of free tips and advice about the writing industry. You can visit him at www.JAKonrath.com.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Eastern USA Time.....7 PM
Not sure what time that is wherever in the world you are? http://www.worldtimeserver.com
The Writers Chatroom at: http://www.writerschatroom.
Scroll down to the Java box. It may take a moment to load. Type in the name you wish to be known by, and click Login. No password needed.
Please note: The chatroom is only open for regularly scheduled chats.
Don't forget the open chat on Wednesday nights, 8-11 pm EST!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Right now I've been nominated for:
- Best Romance Novel : The Eternal Kiss
- Best Erotic Romance : After The Fire (a Diana DeRicci story)
- Best Author : Diana Castilleja
Just click here: http://www.critters.org/predpoll/
Thanks so much!