Deliciously Naughty Writers

BLOG CONTEST all this week!

2009-09-01T22:16:00.000-07:00

SierraDafoe.com has a new look! And to celebrate, I'm having a contest on my blog all week -- just stop by, check out the site redesign, and leave a comment on my blog to be entered!

-- Sierra

Sierra Dafoe -- Feed the Fantasy
sierradafoe.com

SEDUCING THE MOON by Sherrill Quinn

2009-07-28T07:52:00.001-07:00

It's here!

It only takes a little moonlight to bring out the primal desire between two lovers...

Declan O’Connell has a history with Pelicia Cobb, but not the kind that’s going to help him win her back. It was bad enough that he broke her heart as a gruff ex-commando. Now he’s got another side to his personality, a furry, fierce side that goes a little wild under the light of the moon…

Pel wants nothing more than the chance to clean up the mess Declan made of her life—without his interference. But with a sniper taking shots at her on her doorstep, there’s no one better to protect her than Declan. And it’s hard to ignore all of his deliciousness, especially the way her body responds to his undeniable magnetism. There’s no question the rugged Irishman brings out the animal instinct in her—an instinct that propels her toward him, even when she knows she should run away…

Available now at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Borders and Books-A-Million. You can read an excerpt or buy here as well.

Sierra Dafoe signs with TKA!!!

2009-03-28T12:42:00.000-07:00

I am very excited to announce that I have just signed with The Knight Agency for literary representation!

Nephele Tempest, who reps authors Nalini Singh, Gemma Halliday, and Shannon K. Butcher among others, will be working with me on my new paranormal series -- come join my newsletter or my yahoogroup to stay updated on further developments!

Charity raffle!

2008-10-06T08:00:00.001-07:00

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Contact: Rochelle Sorzano
Charity Co-Coordinator
2055 Utica Ave
Brooklyn, NY 11234
Phone: 347-221-0260
http://www.treasuretrovecharity.com/

Our Goal for the Sweet, Sassy, and Sexy Raffle is to get at least 5,000 donations at $20 .00 each. We are fully aware of the current financial climate and understand that $20 is a lot to ask of you. What we are asking is that you give in the spirit of giving. The three causes, St. Jude's Children's Hospital, The 3 Day. Org (Cure for Cancer) and Save the Quiet Kitty are worthy causes. The whole purpose is to help others, we ask that you take part in this endeavor and help us help others.

Simply Simone Inc and the Pink Chair Dairies Presents the Treasure Trove Charity Raffle, each prize is worth an estimated $400.00 and counting. This idea came about when my friend and co-coordinator Author Selena Illyria approached me with an idea to help fellow author and friend The Quiet Kitty/Camille Anthony who was diagnosed in 1989 with Pulmonary Sarcoidosis, caused by exposure to asbestos while an employee of the State of California. (There is a pending class action lawsuit against the State of California, which has been in Pre-Trial hearings for almost a decade.) Camille is now a full time author with no health insurance. She is in stage four of Pulmonary Sarcoidosis and cannot get health insurance because of this pre-existing condition.

I loved the idea and wanted to help as much as possible; And, I thought we should extend it to include a couple of my other favorite charities. Breast Cancer is a concern for all of us and it will take all of us to help find a cure. In addition, St. Jude, when I first heard the story of how the Hospital came to be it struck a chord with me. Moreover, I always promised myself that if I can ever support them with the wonderful work they do I would.

My very talented friend Selena Illyria came up with the Sweet, Sassy, Sexy Charity Raffle, a nod to the cheeky erotic stories she and fellow authors pen. We thought this would be a fun way to give back to those who are generous enough to donate to our charity. We called on all of our writer friends from all over the romance world to donate to these worthy causes, and to my delight, it just kept growing and growing. Until each trunk is now worth over $400.00 and counting.

You can also help us help others, by donating at www.treasuretrovecharity.com and selecting the trunk of your choice and then clicking the donate button. Each theme will represent a charity and at the end, we will share 60% of all net profits equally to the charities.

Rules: There is unlimited bidding until the time the raffle comes to a closed.

Please Note:

60% net of the proceeds goes to the above-mentioned charities.

For information: http://www.treasuretrovecharity.com, http://www.simplysimoneinc.com/, http://www.pinkchairdaires.com/ or
Contac: rochelles@simplysimoneinc.com
Phone: 347-221-0260

New Release - DRAGONHEAT by Sherrill Quinn

2008-09-14T08:27:00.001-07:00

DRAGONHEAT, the sequel to my top-seller DRAGONFIRE, is available now at Amber Heat!

Nikolai Zelenka and Rainer Batsakis are sent by the leader of their dragon clan to find out what happened to a geneticist working for them. They meet the scientist's sister, Deirdre "DeeDee" Adair and immediately recognize her as their mate.

DeeDee doesn't need dragon DNA to know she's wildly attracted to both men. But first she has to understand--and accept--them for what they are. And they must protect her against the dragon hunters who are after her...

~ * ~
Nikolai's stance became ultra-alert, his nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing. His gaze slid past her to the large curtained picture window on her right. "Get away from the door," he ordered in a low voice.

"Now, listen here," she began, only to be cut off when he charged toward her. Eyes wide, fear closing her throat, she still managed a squeak of alarm and depressed the button on the pepper spray. The stream soared over his shoulder to land harmlessly on the carpet. God, he was fast! He grabbed her and moved behind the sofa. He pushed her to the floor and slanted his big body over hers, his large hands cradling her head.

At the same time Rainer turned off the lamp. She heard him moving, his heavy boots squeaking as he crawled past her on his way to the picture window.

Heat from Nikolai's body seeped into her, tempting her to stroke her hands along his lean sides. Ay-ay-ay. Get a grip, girl. Now's not the time to be lusting after him, though that's an interesting development. She wiggled a bit and the bulge pressing against her abdomen hardened even further.

Just as the thought that he might be planning to rape her killed the burgeoning lust she was beginning to feel, loud pops filled the air. Staccato in rhythm, it took a few seconds for her to realize it was weapons' fire. "Someone's shooting at us!"

"No shit, Sherlock," came the muttered reply from the man crouched beside the window.

Ass, she thought with some heat. "I've never been shot at before, you putz."

"I have." His voice was still as low as before.

"Can you see them, Rainer?" Nikolai lifted his head. He rose up onto his elbows and stared toward the man by the window.

"No. Dammit."

DeeDee twisted her neck to get a better look at what was going on. She could barely make out Rainer as he crouched by the window, peering out through the curtain.

"I told you it was too dangerous to entrust information like this with humans." Rainer's deep voice had a decided bite to it.

She blinked. What did he mean, give it to humans? As opposed to...what? Monkeys?

More gunfire erupted and Nikolai dropped back down onto her. She heard the breaking of glass, the shattering of ceramic, and shards of the table lamp rained down over her. Well, mostly over Nikolai, since he was still smashing her into the floor. His warm breath wafted against her cheek, sending tiny shivers up and down her spine.

Contrary to the strangeness of the situation, the man on top of her felt...familiar.

Like...home.

"Fuck this." Rainer's voice was harsh. "I'll be right back."

"Be careful." Nikolai tipped his head up. Though he looked at his friend, DeeDee was enormously aware of just how very close that luscious mouth of his was to hers.

Rainer headed toward the kitchen in a crouching run. Then Nikolai looked down at her. In the darkness of the room she couldn't make out very many details, even as close as his face was, but she could see the light amber of his eyes.

Wait. Amber? Hadn't his eyes been...brown? Or maybe hazel?

"Stay down." He pushed away from her, pausing with his knees bent and his palms planted on the floor on either side of her shoulders. "I mean it, Ms. Adair. Stay put until we get back."

From outside came the sounds of men's shouts and a roar like a fierce wind, but different somehow, a sound that she couldn't quite figure out. Seeing that Nikolai was waiting for her response, she gave a nod. If people were outside firing guns toward the house, she wasn't a fool. She was much less likely to be hit by a bullet if she was flat on the floor.

He leaned down and for the briefest of moments his lips touched the corner of her mouth. Then he was gone.

Copyright 2008 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.

DRAGONHEAT - available now at Amber Heat!

What reviewers have said about Dragonfire:
"5 Hearts!...This is a powerful story with excellent dialogue and characterizations..."--Dee, The Romance Studio
"5 Lips!...Sherrill Quinn has written a perfect shapeshifter novel...A story you simply must read...Sherrill Quinn does not disappoint!"--Tara Renee, TwoLips Reviews
"5 Angels!...I loved this book. From the first page till the last it captured my attention...I hope Sherrill Quinn continues to write Dragon books and I would definitely buy them if she did. I look forward to reading more stories by her."--Ashley, Fallen Angel Reviews

It's here!!! The DARK PANTHEON series has arrived with WICKED OMEN!

2008-07-11T08:28:00.000-07:00

Whee! The first Dark Pantheon book, Sherrill Quinn's WICKED OMEN, just released at Ellora's Cave! Come check it out, and stop by darkpantheon.com to learn more about this exciting series!

WICKED OMEN
by Sherrill Quinn

Book one in the Dark Pantheon series
http://www.ellorascave.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=SQui

They are children of the gods. Half-immortal, yet never whole. Until they find the one we burn to possess for all eternity...

Wicked Omen

In the seventh century B.C., Kalla must pretend to be one of the hated enemy -- a Spartan -- in order to save her family. Her gift of sight has brought her to the attention of her Spartan master, Praxiteles, who is determined to use her to overthrow one of the dual kings of the Spartan monarchy. She has no choice but to play along, or her father and brothers will die.

Nikolaos, an Aresian vampire, is a fierce proponent of one of the Spartan kings -- in direct opposition to the man who threatens Kalla's family. When Praxiteles introduces Kalla as the Spartan's new oracle, Nikolaos is suspicious of her, both because her behavior is inconsistent with that of a Spartan woman but especially because of her association with Praxiteles. However, he can't resist her beauty and intelligence.

When she tells Nikolaos something that happened in a recent battle that no one but one of his men -- in whose fealty he has absolute trust -- could know, he begins to believe her. With his skepticism put to rest, he gives in to his desire for her.

Kalla and Nikolaos must now face a common enemy -- one who threatens both Nikolaos's way of life and Kalla's family. But their happiness is not guaranteed. What will Nikolaos do when he discovers Kalla is involved in the plot to overthrow his king? Can their love overcome the bite of betrayal?

Excerpt

There had been a time not all that long ago when Nikolaos would have welcomed the sting of death, had eagerly anticipated the journey to the Isles of the Blessed where all heroes spent eternity. He was tired of war, tired of the loneliness that ate away at his soul. It wasn't easy, watching those around him grow old and die while he stayed youthful and fit. But in spite of his many headlong rushes into battle, the god of the underworld apparently did not want him.

Nikolaos would have thought one less Aresian on this plane of existence would be a good thing, but it seemed Hades preferred that the vampire descendants of the gods be Zeus' problem instead of his.

"I'd prefer to die in battle," Nikolaos went on, "than at the end of an executioner's axe."

"Aye, my lord." Castor turned away from him and started back the way he'd come.

Nikolaos fell into step beside him. Within moments, they came upon the rest of his troops. He scanned the crowd, at one glance taking in the beaten Helots on their knees with their hands behind their heads, huddled in a group with the tired but victorious Spartoi gathered 'round them. But there was one man missing... "Where's Deucalios?" he asked, referring to his boyhood friend and fellow Aresian vampire.

Castor's throat moved with his hard swallow. "He has fallen, my lord." He gestured toward the rocky knoll that crowned the hill upon which they stood.

In spite of the warmth of the day and his own overheated battle-worn body, a chill iced its way through Nikolaos. With leaden steps, he walked in the direction his lieutenant had pointed.

There, in what clearly had been a killing frenzy, Deucalios lay in pieces. The gaping hole in his chest was further mute testament that the butchers who did this knew how to make sure the Aresian warrior could not be restored to life.

Fisting his hands, Nikolaos went to his knees beside his fallen comrade. His eyes burned with unshed tears, his throat tightened around the howl of grief clawing to be set free. What was the benefit in having near immortality if it only made you a target of vicious attacks like this? Until the heart had been removed from his chest, Deucalios would have been coherent enough to feel every bite of the blade that rendered him asunder.

The only reason Nikolaos could think of for the viciousness of the attack was because, like him, Deucalios was an Aresian.

When Nikolaos returned to Sparta, he would visit the oracle and discover whatever portends she could envision. For now, though, he would avenge his friend. He put his hand palm down in a deep crimson pool of his friend's blood. Then he placed his hand on his brass chest plate, over his heart, marking himself with Deucalios' life essence. "I will avenge you, my brother," he muttered, bowing his head.

Grief turned to an all-consuming rage that brought back his bloodlust. A red haze colored his vision. He jumped to his feet and returned to the captives. His nostrils flared as he sought out those who had brought Deucalios to such an ignoble death.

He paused in front of each enemy soldier, breathing deeply, taking in the multitude of scents that fierce battle always brought. The coppery smell of blood, the pungent tang of sweat, the stench of fear. But there was one particular aroma he sought�the same scent that wafted to his nostrils from the bloody palm print on his chest.

Deucalios cried out for vengeance.

Get your copy of WICKED OMEN today!
http://www.ellorascave.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=SQui

Explore the Dark Pantheon at http://www.darkpantheon.com

Wicked Witch of the West Village-out now

2008-06-27T05:42:00.000-07:00

"Wicked Witch of the West Village"
By Anna J. Evans
Ellora's Cave-Exotica
Super Plus novel-paranormal, erotic

http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419914768

BLURB:

Life's a bitch and so is Gail Teril, evil romance editor by day, failed heroine of her own life by night. She's the wicked witch of the West Village and she likes it that way…or at least likes it enough to avoid the scary process of trying to change her wicked rep.

But when a violent nut allergy at a writers' conference sends Gail into a coma and she wakes up in an alternate dimension, she has no choice but to take a hard look at her new life and herself. In a very adult somewhere over the rainbow peopled by sexy barbarian lovers, an evil zombie-making fiend and a green skinned man she knows she could come to love, Gail learns that sex can sometimes lead to power, but only her heart will lead her home.

EXCERPT:

I followed Kathy into the small conference room, feeling like the lowest form of dog shit as I thought back on our conversation and its probable implications. If Kathy said it, it had to be true. Kathy was nice, Kathy was a fantastic friend and Kathy never told a lie. If she said Richard was beyond retrieval she had to be right.

The realization made my stomach twist in an angry knot around my black coffee and two cinnamon rolls.

I'd lost him. I'd really lost him and only now did I understand I probably loved Richard, no matter how many times I'd dismissed him when he pressed me to make some grand declaration. Now he was gone and a part of me wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and never come out again.

It was horribly melodramatic and self-loathing inducing, which made me struggle to find someone else to blame. Luckily, a target soon presented itself.

As I sat behind the table and gazed out at the over-eager faces of at least a hundred romance writers, I had to resist the urge to start throwing rotten tomatoes. It was their fault, those damn women who wrote those damn books that I read in spite of myself.

I was an editor of romantic fiction, it was my job to read romance novels, but I didn't have to enjoy them as much as I did. I didn't have to purchase all the newest titles from my favorite authors to take home and savor over the weekend in the name of market research or reread my keeper-shelf novels until the front covers were tattered.

The prolonged exposure had obviously rotted my brain. I should have stuck to my guns in my early twenties until I was transferred to the literary fiction division. But I had stayed in romance, snuggled in like a pig in shit until I was the head editor honcho at the tender age of thirty-two, the top dog on the steaming pink pile of lovey-dovey nonsense that was the romantic fiction department.

So young to be so successful…and so increasingly bitter.

"Welcome and thank you so much for coming to learn more about Handler and Handler." Kathy's bright blue eyes shone warmly out at the audience as if she actually gave a shit that anyone had shown up. She probably did, she was nice. "I'm associate editor Kathy Hewitt, and this is Gail Teril, executive editor."

I waved my hand in brief acknowledgement of my name, then pretended great interest in the folder in front of me as Kathy proceeded to outline the new directions Handler and Handler were hoping to take our Visions of Love line.

I, for one, wanted to start by outlawing anything having to do with vampires--what the fuck is romantic about a man who wants to feed off you like a leech while he moans about his tortured immortality? I also wanted to do away with heroines who weren't at least twenty-three or who hadn't slept with a minimum of four men before Mister Right.

What woman these days hasn't had at least four lovers before she settles down for the happily ever after? Now I'm sure there are some exceptions, but even my brother's new wife--originally from Georgia, sweet as a peach, inside the Baptist Church every time they open the doors--confessed to me that she had three guys before Rick. I had to get her pretty tipsy on wine coolers before she shared the info, but I proved my point, at least to myself.

I was also more than a little tired of the "sweet as pie" crap. Why could the hero be a big jerk who needed "love's tender caress" to "set him free", but the heroine was always a near virgin who saved whales for a living, ran a soup kitchen in her spare time and took in homeless animals and domestic abuse victims? All while teaching the hero how her generous and perfect soul could help even a rake like him learn to love, of course?

Not to mention she's also stunningly gorgeous with perfect tits, no cellulite, skin that's smooth and pore-less sans makeup and no body hair in undesirable places in addition to being the next Mother Mary. I have issues with the omission of body hair maintenance in my novels. You never read about a romance heroine having to wax her moustache. As a half-Cuban woman who inherited more from my mom than thick, shiny, luxurious dark brown locks on my head, I would appreciate my heroine having to work a little to be so goddamned perfect.

But everyone else seems to want the heroine to be beyond reproach, other editors and readers included. I was the only one with a problem. I couldn't identify with most heroines because I was a cranky slut jerk who should have been born an alpha male. If I had, then maybe I would have found a sweet Georgia peach like my younger brother or a sassy, incredibly loyal scriptwriter like my older one. If I'd been a boy, maybe I would have already been tamed by love and become contented with venting my crankiness at work like the rest of the penis-owning half of the population.

Too bad I'd been born a gal and a straight gal on top if it. Double too bad most men weren't into putting forth the effort to break through my gruff exterior to find the diamond in the rough underneath. Triple too bad most men didn't find my take-no-prisoners-get-up-in-your-face-and-call-you-a-cock-sucker attitude particularly sexy.

A shame, that. Girls just love an aloof, bossy, unattainable "bad boy". But what about "bad girls"? Was I a bad girl?

You're the Wicked Witch of the West Village.

I hated my subconscious sometimes. Especially when it was right, even more especially when I'd just screwed up a relationship with a guy who thought my potty mouth was "cute" and had the guts to tell me to shut up from time to time and really make me listen.

Especially when his dick was so unbelievably wondrous and you're never going to get to roll around in bed with him EVER AGAIN.

"I'll take that question," I said with a forced smile, deciding that sharing my opinions on the future trends in romantic fiction was better than sitting there stewing in my own horrible thoughts.

Of course, that's where I made my next stupid mistake. Never open your big mouth unless you're prepared to put your short, fat foot in it.

Fan the Flames...
http://annajevans.com
Ms. Evans is an author who could quickly become habit-forming!
-The Romance Studio

Jewels of the Nile 2 out today!

2008-06-20T10:09:00.001-07:00

http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419916540

BLURB:

Sexy men, magic, and mayhem…oh my!

Gelsey is grateful to land a gig as costume mistress for a theatre. She simply wants to hide from the dark forces that pursue her. She never plans on falling for the sexy, surly Tin Man, the character every Wizard of Oz fan knows has no heart.

Stephen has finally found the woman destined to be his. Now only one night of danger, a little sex magic and Gelsey's stubborn refusal to admit she's his stand in his way. But Stephen won't give up. He'll have Gelsey, giving her such pleasure she'll have no choice but to surrender.

EXCERPT:

There was music playing, faint fiddle music that reminded Gelsey of home. Ireland, the only home she’d ever known. She could practically smell the soda bread her mother was cooking, feel the cool stone floor beneath her bare feet. She’d only been six years old when her parents had died and the executor of their estate put her on a plane to America. Sometimes she had a hard time remembering their faces, but she could remember the smell of the herb lotion her mother made in her huge vat on the stove, and the way her dad’s eyes wrinkled around the edges when he grinned.

“Gelsey. Wake, little witch, the sun sets and the Rite must begin.”

As soon as the male voice spoke, the music in her head fled with dizzying swiftness, only to fade back in, softly, when a warm summer breeze swept over her bare skin. It felt so delicious to experience the wind this way, without any clothes between her and the—

“Where are my clothes?” She sat up fast, eyes flying open as her arms crossed over her breasts. Her first instinct was to jump to her feet and make a naked run for it, back to the theatre, when she saw him. All of him. “Better question, where are your clothes?” She meant for the words to be harsh, accusatory, but they came out breathy, an unmistakable invitation.

“Can you really call that thing ‘clothes’? It itches something fierce.” He sat cross-legged on the simple brown blanket, as naked as the day he was born, a huge mixing bowl cradled between his legs. “Felt like I was wearing wool pantyhose clear up to my neck.”

“How do you know what pantyhose feel like?”

“Good question. But if I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He smiled, a wicked grin that lit up his face and transformed the usually handsome Mackenzie Fellows into something extraordinary. He was gorgeous, he was naked, he was showing signs of a sense of humor and he’d kidnapped her for some sort of kink-fest out in the woods. On the surface, it was exactly what she’d wanted from this man.

So why was her every instinct still screaming that she should get up and run—fast—and not stop until she was leaving the state of Indiana?
Maybe because he did actually kidnap you! And strip your clothes off while you were unconscious and take his own clothes off too and now—

“Mac, this is very…flattering, but—”

“Stephen. My real name is Stephen. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but you didn’t seem able to keep a secret to save your life.” He smiled as he said the words, but they still stung. What did he know about her? Or her ability to keep secrets?

“Excuse me, but what the hell do you know about—”

“You talked non-stop about the entire casts’ business while you were fitting me. I assumed you did the same with everyone else. I couldn’t risk telling you too much.” He dipped a finger into the bowl between his legs and began casually tracing a red symbol on his bare chest—which she couldn’t help but notice had the perfect amount of chest hair, not too much, not too little. Not to mention that he was muscled like a warrior, not a musical theatre performer. Mac—Stephen looked like he could handle himself in the ring, or on the battlefield if the faint scars marking his skin were any indication.

Gelsey felt another whisper of unease raise the hairs at the back of her neck. There was something wrong here, something more than a man reluctant to reveal he had a stage name.

“In fact, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you speechless.” He grinned again and anger quickly banished her fear.

“I talked non-stop because you stood there glaring at me and—”

“I never glared,” he said, glaring.

“You did! You always—”

“I wouldn’t glare at a woman, especially not one so terribly important to me. Or so beautiful.” A trace of an Irish accent, a trace she’d heard before, found its way into his voice, making her shiver. Then she met his eyes, eyes filled with passion and, more surprisingly, sincerity, and shivered again.

“Are you ever going to let me finish a sentence?” Gelsey swallowed hard and fought the desire beginning to unfurl low in her belly. She was glad she’d kept her hands in front of her breasts. At least he couldn’t see how her nipples tightened, aching for him to touch them, for him to trace crazy red symbols over her body and then follow the path with his tongue.

“I just did.” He finished the final mark with his finger, closing off the last in a series of four triangles, each pointing in a different direction. “Now it’s your turn. Will you become the bone of my bones, the flesh of my flesh, making us one flesh bound by—”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” Gelsey leapt to her feet, no longer caring if Stephen caught a glimpse of her thigh dimples as she turned and fled. The man was insane, probably a serial killer from the sound of it. She’d been a fool to sit there as long as she had. “Flesh of my flesh” didn’t sound like any foreplay she’d ever heard of. No matter how much she wanted this man, she needed to haul tail back to civilization, reality, any place where she had more sense than to let her hormones lead her straight into an unmarked grave.

c. 2008 Anna J. Evans

Sierra's first author outing!

2008-06-15T14:37:00.000-07:00

Whee! So I'm finally getting unpacked and reorganized after my trip to Lori Foster's get together in Cincinnati -- yes, I know it was last weekend, but I didn't get back till Thursday! 1000 miles each way… Next year, I'm flying. Maybe. We'll see. But I did stop over a few extra days in Columbus to visit my friend Melanie and finally finally meet Celina Summers whom I've known online for years… I can now attest that her margaritas are every bit as good as she claims :p

The Gift of Redemption, the second book in Celina's Asphodel series, just came out on June 6th, so I wanted to mention that and you can check it out at http://shootthemuse.bravehost.com (huge fantasy series, it's very cool)

I had the greatest time at Lori's, I really did -- getting to meet Bad Barb and Laura and Deb and Joni and Ali (who is SUCH a sweetie! Ali, I didn't get any pictures of you! Send me one if you see this!) and Billie Jo and her equally crazy sister Yvonne and Stephanie who had dinner with me and Susie B and Beth and Amy T… and that doesn't begin to cover all the wonderful readers I met, let alone the authors!!

This is Niny, who won the Wolf Bound basket (and then very nicely gave the t-shirt to Jennifer)

Trouble most definitely comes in twos: the Case sisters, Billie Jo and Yvonne.

From left: LuAnn McClane, Suzanne Horner, Rae Morgan, those crazed sisters again, and Joni Anderson

Bad Barb and me and Susie Bischoff (and somebody providing the bunny ears.... anyone wanna 'fess up?)

This was one of the coolest parts of the whole weekend for me -- I had a line during the booksigning! And honest-to-God line! I feel like Sally Fields… "You like me, you really like me!" Whee!

From left: me, Jennifer Allison, Rhonda Wilson, Laura Jenkins and DeNita Tuttle
Thanks to Yuvonne Marlow for snapping this one!

Another serious fave moment (actually, couple of hours…): Friday night, I bumped into Lauren Dane who was sitting with Laura Bradford who has a partial of mine, so of course I had to go introduce myself and hopefully demonstrate that I wasn't a complete spaz (well, dunno how successful I was at that, LOL!)

Anyway, I ended up sitting at a table with Lauren and Megan Hart (these two are a deadly duo -- I was laughing so hard my stomach ached!) and Anya Bast who's just incredibly nice and sweet (such a quiet girl to write such steamy scenes!) and Laura and Cindy Hwang for two hours, just listening (okay, I talked some -- probably nothing very interesting). Cindy's incredible. Really nice and I swear the woman is a walking encyclopedia of romance. It was just wild and if you can absorb talent by osmosis, I was SO in the right place! Plus we got some great pix:

The uber-cool Lauren Dane and some chick named Sierra :p

Lauren, moi, and Megan Hart mugging it up for the camera -- I got to be in the BEST company!

Also, Megan's got a great video blog up of the event -- just click here: http://www.meganhart.com/wordpress/2008/06/10/porkopolis/

It was so wonderful to get to meet so many of my fellow authors -- I'm not EVEN going to try to list them all, but here's a few pictures:

Celia Kyle and Selena Illyria -- who knew sheer wanton madness could look so demure?

The incomparable Flash and D. Renee Bagby, looking stunning as usual

Me and Celia and Tuesday Morrigan (who just got a GREAT review from JERR -- congrats, Tuesday!) and Selena (do NOT let that innocent-looking exterior fool you!!!)

Finally got to meet Kate Douglas who is every bit as cool in person as she is in cyber-land (and her hubby really IS all dat! You go, girl!)

Lori Foster! I talked with Lori Foster! WHEE!!!!

I am SO going next year, even if I have to hitch-hike! I LOVED MEETING YOU GUYS!!!!

And hey, don't forget to check out my Oh Yum! story, Built to Last. Like the cover? :p

Forty year old Ginny Chase is a nationally syndicated advice columnist who's finding it hard to take her own advice. Broken-hearted by her husband's unexpected death, she impulsively sells her Boston condo to buy a ramshackle old farmhouse in Maine. Big mistake. The roof leaks, the wiring is ancient and the first repair quote she gets from a contractor leaves her panicked.

But when local carpenter Mike Standish shows up to give her an estimate, Ginny finds herself experiencing an entirely different kind of panic. He's handsome, hard-working, and he's making her think things no self-respecting woman should even consider about a man sixteen years her junior.

Despite his youth, though, Mike has been around the block a time or two when it comes to love. And it doesn't take him long to realize Ginny's broken house isn't the only thing he wants to fix...

http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419916823

-- Sierra

Sexy. Sassy. Seductive. Sierra.
www.sierradafoe.com

Red Garnier Joins DNW!

2008-05-05T19:36:00.000-07:00

Deliciously Naughty Writers is excited to welcome Red Garnier to our ranks. Red's first book, Spin Devil, was released in May 2007 from Ellora's Cave and it received a Recommended Read from Fallen Angel Reviews!

Red writes fun and sexy erotic contemporaries as well as paranormals that can range from dark and emotionally intense to witty and fun.

Here are just a few of her books:

Phillip Gaston Maxwell has been a vampire for one hundred years, a long life where hot sex has certainly not been lacking. But lately Phillip is starting to feel bored. Only his luscious friend Anna can truly fulfill him, but while Anna shares her body, her heart is locked tight. So Phillip's attention has turned to his latest obsession, Daniel — but how can a bisexual vampire seduce a handsome, reportedly straight Incubus?

A bachelor party — with Anna willingly providing "entertainment" — and a little help from a concoction called Sin may just produce the excitement he's looking for.

Read an excerpt or buy.

Lured years ago from her home on Earth, Liana has seen countless natives mercilessly killed by humans in their search for planet Oriana's riches. When the Foher warrior Kavi kidnaps her during his escape, he unwittingly takes the humans' greatest asset — and awakens Liana's strongest lusts.

For years the Fohers have sought the same treasure — Amatista. Only by finding the mystical river of amethysts will Kavi and his people be safe. But Kavi doesn't realize his human captive, with her lush body and eager responses, is more than just a distraction — she is the key to finding the very treasure he seeks.

Read an excerpt or buy.

I take thee, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part...

It was only last year that Marcus and Marly Forrester spoke their wedding vows. Now a year into their marriage, there's trouble in paradise. More trouble than Marcus would like. Apparently his wife is in heat. Like a lion, a tiger, a beast. She's pained, she's suffering, and Marcus can do little about it except...mate. With her. As often as she wants it, as hard as she wants it.

Doctor's orders, in fact. But Marcus is no porn-star, no super hero. Hell, he's just a man, determined to keep his woman happy. And he'll do anything for Marly. Including hiring on the assistance of a third party...

Read an excerpt or buy.

Welcome to DNW, Red!

"Deep Cover" by Anna J. Evans 2/29 release!

2008-02-29T10:29:00.001-08:00

"Deep Cover"
By Anna J. Evans
February 2008 from Ellora's Cave

BLURB:

In a dangerous new world where human fragility is a priceless commodity to brutal alien Dominanats, being a submissive can mean taking your life in your hands. The very idea makes alien ops agent Samantha's skin crawl. She's a woman in charge--in bed and out--and only fear for the life of her partner, Calen, could convince her to pretend otherwise.

When Calen goes undercover as an alien Dom in one of New York City's most violent S and M parlors, Samantha knows she has to folllow and pose as his submissive. For Calen, she'd risk anything, even discovering the lifestyle she thinks she abhors might actually be the stuff of her most wicked fantasies...

EXCERPT:

She’d had a few sips of a stiff drink at the bar—a Long Island Iced Tea the bartender had called it, claiming it was a favorite near the turn of the century with college kids looking to get the most alcoholic bang for the buck—but that couldn’t explain the rush Sam was feeling as she lifted her arms, allowing Calen to chain her wrists to manacles on the wall behind her. After all, she’d never get intoxicated while on a mission, at least not on alcohol.

As far as her hyperactive hormones were concerned, however, she wasn’t sure she was going to have any choice. Just breathing near Calen right now made her higher than she’d ever been on a controlled substance.

“Now don’t move, not until I give you permission,” he said, his strangely golden eyes boring into hers with a heat that made her already accelerated breath come even faster.

Even knowing they were only colored contacts couldn’t dispense with her fascination with Calen’s new eyes. They were gorgeous, captivating, much like the rest of Calen in his Mage Dom gear. The soft leather vest fit him like a glove, outlining every perfectly sculpted muscle beneath. The equally tight black pants left nothing to the imagination, letting her know just how exciting Calen was finding their first few minutes in the playroom. He was magnificently hard, his cock straining against the leather, making her traitorous pussy leak with a constant, insistent need.

Her thong had been drenched even before they’d entered the club, now it was barely capable of containing her juices. The evidence of her desire would be leaking down the inside of her thighs any moment, but for some reason the thought didn’t make her ashamed. Instead, it excited her, just as the playroom itself with its dark red velvet walls and dim lighting excited her, just as the music the Mage had chosen, a deep throbbing Celtic-inspired techno excited her. It was as if Club Magan had been constructed from her sexiest dreams, and Sam was finding it all too easy to relax into her role.

Even knowing that Mage mind control could be responsible for intensifying her craving for this experience couldn’t dull her desire, especially not when Calen began to run gentle hands over her body, tracing her curves with a reverence she prayed was real. For all she knew, he had touched Kit the same way, teased the tiny blonde’s nipples through her leather corset, drug down the zipper of her skirt with the same trembling hands. But Sam chose to believe this night was as mind-blowing for Calen as it was for herself.

Believing anything else would shatter her, and she couldn’t afford to be shattered right now. There was enough of her right mind left to remember that, to remember the mission to free Elena and to choose to allow herself to pretend there was no Kit, only she and Calen, partners as they had always been.
“Turn around,” Calen ordered, his breath coming in quick bursts against her lips. He was so close Sam’s nipples nearly brushed against the front of his chest, as if he was shielding her from the rest of the room, not wanting to share her with even the eyes of the alien men.

“Yes, Sir,” Sam replied, a surge of feminine power sweeping over her as a muscle in Calen’s jaw leapt in response.

They’d discussed that she should address him as Master or Sir, but this was the first time she’d used the deferential word. Strangely, it made her feel powerful, desirable, not inferior. Or maybe it was the passion in Calen’s eyes as she slowly spun on her chains that made her lips curl in a small smile. Sam could safely say she’d never felt so beautiful, so desired in all her life. At that moment, as Calen tugged her skirt down to the floor and urged her to step free of the garment, she felt like a sexual siren, a woman capable of bringing men to their knees with want for her.

Apparently, Calen felt the same way.

She moaned as he took her hips in his wide, strong hands and knelt on the floor behind her, bringing his mouth close enough to her ass that she could feel his breath on her skin. Her pussy clenched fiercely around its own emptiness, craving Calen’s hands, his mouth. Or better yet that thick cock she’d felt pressed so tightly against her out in the street. But it seemed he had other ideas.

First his tongue traced delicate swirls around one globe of her exposed bottom, feathering in gentle circles that made the ache between her legs intensify more quickly than she would have dreamed. By the time he’d given the same attention to the other side of her ass, Sam was panting with need, unable to resist the temptation to tilt her hips, arching just enough to urge Calen to attend to the slick, weeping channel that pulsed with hunger for him.

Calen’s response—swift, hard smacks on the relaxed flesh of her ass—was a complete surprise. Her body’s electrified reaction to the spanking, however, was a flat out shock.

A sound escaped from her parted lips, but it wasn’t a gasp of pain, it was the thick, impassioned cry of a woman close to coming harder than she’d ever come before. Her nipples tightened to the point of pain and every inch of her skin buzzed with awareness, a high she’d never felt, not a day before in her life.

“I said, don’t move. Not until I give you permission.” Calen’s voice was deeper than she’d ever heard it, husky with emotion and lust. Lust for her. That knowledge alone was almost enough to tip her over the edge. “And don’t come,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “I’ll tell my pussy when she can come. Do you hear me, Samantha?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sam said, surprised at how blissful she sounded.

“Good girl.” He rewarded her obedience by tugging her thong down her legs and—once she’d stepped free of the drenched scrap of fabric—bringing his hand between her legs. “Fuck, Sammy, you’re so wet.”

The words came out as a groan as he let his fingers play through her swollen folds, teasing in and out of her opening, first one finger and then two. Then, after instructing her to spread her legs wider, three fingers. Three of Calen’s thick fingers stuffing into her, in and out, in and out, until her pussy felt bruised by the burden of withheld release. But she would not allow herself to come, not until Calen allowed it. Sam instinctively knew she wouldn’t find any real pleasure from a stolen release, that only pleasure commanded by Calen, pleasure that pleased her Master would fulfill the bone deep ache in her body and soul.

Sam! What are thinking, listen to yourself. Listen…

But the voice of reason was a weak, pitiful thing indeed when compared to the feel of Calen’s lips parting around her bottom flesh, taking her ass into the warm heat of his mouth and biting down. His teeth sunk in, deeper and deeper, until there was pain, pain that highlighted the pleasure he was giving her between her legs like neon behind the letters of a marquee.

Fan the Flames...
http://annajevans.com
Ms. Evans is an author who could quickly become habit-forming!
-The Romance Studio

New Release from SHERRILL QUINN

2008-02-14T05:38:00.000-08:00

Available today at Ellora's Cave!

WARNING: This is an adult excerpt. *Not* child or work friendly.

Rahziya Sanura, princess of Gar, and Callum Hefeydd, prince of Apth--two people in love but separated by feuding kingdoms. Their one hope for unification--both for themselves and their countries--is the legendary Jewel of Apthgar, a 6-inch long amethyst said to have come from the great god Apthgar's sword. Sent by their respective fathers to retrieve the gem, they must first defeat the dragon guarding it.

Will the Jewel provide the means for them to be together, or will it drive them apart?

~ * ~

Princess Rahziya Sanura, heir to the Garan throne, stood as witness to the latest marriage ceremony between two noble houses and tightened her lips at the unfairness of it all. Why could a duke of Gar and a countess of Apth get married, yet her father continued to forbid her to have anything to do with Prince Callum?

She smoothed her elegant gown over her hips and glanced over the heads of the bride and groom to the Apthian delegation. Her gaze met Callum Hefeydd’s and, as always, her pulse zoomed at the look of banked desire in those gray-green eyes. If it weren’t for her father’s—and, admittedly, Callum’s parents as well—continued resistance to a reunification of the kingdoms, this could be her and Callum declaring their love publicly.

“With the vows spoken and approval given by these witnesses, there is but one more stage to complete.” The magi took the hands of the nude bride and groom and joined them, keeping his on top of them. His solemn gaze went first to the couple, then to the assembled guests. “One of the joys of being a magi to the people is the task of conducting unification ceremonies such as these. To be used by the great god Apthgar to bless these young people’s union is both a privilege and an honor.”

Knowing what was coming, Rahziya swallowed and tried to calm her breathing. She always became so aroused at these ceremonies, and with Callum standing just on the other side of the small circle, this particular union would be unbearable to witness.

The magi unfastened a few of the loops holding his robe together, then shrugged the purple and blue garment off his shoulders. The clothing pooled around his feet, leaving him as naked as the bride and groom. At his nod, the couple knelt at his feet. First the bride kissed the magi’s penis, then the groom. Accepting a cup from a nearby neophyte, the magi drank the contents. Immediately his cock began to engorge, becoming erect in a matter of a few seconds.

“I humbly offer myself in the place of our god, sanctifying this union and offering myself in place of the Jewel of Apthgar.” The magi took a step back. The bride and groom stretched out on a large pad at his feet.

The dark-haired groom pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his bride’s lips then trailed his mouth down her neck to her breasts. He began suckling her, moving from one rigid tip to the other, and stroked one hand between her thighs.

The woman moaned and bent her legs, her knees falling apart to open herself more fully. She brought her hands up to the man’s head and clasped him to her breast.

As the groom began thrusting his fingers into the bride’s pussy, his thumb rotating against her swollen clit, Rahziya drew in a sharp breath. She clenched her thighs together to try to stem her own rising arousal. She took her gaze off the couple and looked up to find Callum’s heated stare on her.

His face was impassive but for the banked fire in his eyes. From her peripheral vision she could see the bride and groom repositioning themselves, the groom going to his back with the bride straddling him, taking his hard length into her sheath.

Rahziya couldn’t break her gaze away from Callum. The gasping cries and moans of the wedding couple only heightened her own frustrated desire for the enemy prince. The man she loved.

The man she could never have.

Copyright 2008 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.

Jewel of Apthgar - available at Ellora's Cave!

Release Day!

2008-01-16T04:13:00.000-08:00

The super-dark, super-sexy, X-rated erotic romance Anna J. Evans and December Quinn wrote together, Demon's Triad, releases today from Ellora's Cave! (You'll be able to buy it later in the day when the page updates.)

I had a bit of a difficult time choosing an excerpt for this one, because did I mention it's X-rated and super sexy? But I'm also mindful that a lot of you read from work, and after a gentle reminder from some of my beloved men readers that, ah, reading explicit material at work can cause problems, I wanted to grab something a little less...well, a little less erotic.

Blurbage:
What’s a witch to do when her coven has been cursed with a celibacy spell?

Break it. By any means necessary.

Aleeza dips into grey magic to scratch the itch that’s been driving her crazy. She never dreams deviating from the ‘white magic only’ policy of her coven will land her in the middle of a serial murder investigation…or in the arms of two magnetic men.

Ferrin and Dorand plan to find their woman’s murderer and make them pay—with their lives. But when a spell to communicate with her spirit awakens a forbidden lust, their quest to catch a killer becomes even deadlier.

A legacy of demonic evil two thousand years in the making is about to rise. One misstep and innocent passion becomes tainted desire, and three true lovers…a demon’s triad.

ADVISORY: Contains scenes of male/male sexual contact. This book is not for the faint of heart and contains non-gratuitous scenes of rape and incest.

The scene I've chosen takes place the morning after Aleeza breaks the celibacy curse and, coincidentally, loses her virginity to a man in the Amiantos forests. Now she's with the head of her Coven (Gunera) to be briefed about a new investigation...

“Gunera Bounty and Investigations has its second job. At this rate we’re going to need more people certified, pronto. I’m putting you in charge of finding volunteers. And don’t tell me you can’t find them. Let them know how much cash you’re getting for this and they’ll be jumping at the chance.”

Aleeza hadn’t even finished closing the door behind her before Gavyn spoke, waving a thick manila folder in her direction. “Here.” The sunlight streaming in the frosted glass window behind him cast an odd whitish glow around his dark head, like the glow of Dorand’s energy the night before had made his skin gleam. Aleeza shivered and hurried to take the file from Gavyn, making sure their fingers didn’t touch.

“Good morning to you too. And how much money am I getting for this job anyway?”

“What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?” Gavyn’s smile faded and his green eyes narrowed. He held on to the file more tightly.

For a second Aleeza thought he might pull her over the desk into his lap and make her sit there and say “ah”. Gavyn was their coven’s strongest healer and had basically been her pediatrician when she was growing up. Aleeza had learned every healing spell she knew from him and had known he would be able to sense something off with her energy. She shouldn’t have come here, should have made him fill her in over the phone and picked up the damn file later after she’d had a nice long nap.

“Nothing’s wrong. Give me a break, Gavyn. I haven’t been sick in ten years,” she said, rolling her eyes and pulling the file from his grip with a firm yank. Play it off, she just had to play it off and get out of here ASAP.

“Don’t bullshit me, there’s something wrong,” Gavyn said. “You seem different somehow.”
Aleeza sat down in one of the cracked leather chairs and shrugged, keeping her eyes down, scanning the words on the folder without reading them. “Nothing. I guess I’m just tired. I had a late night.”

“No, your energy feels off, like it’s been tampered with. Maybe—”

“What’s the case, Gavyn? The sooner you tell me about it, the sooner I can start, and the sooner we get paid.”

“I like that you’re eager.” Gavyn gave her another hard look, then leaned back in his own, much nicer chair, and put his feet up on the mess of paper covering his desk. Every Gunera Aleeza knew had offered to help him organize the office at least once, but Gavyn insisted he had a system. “But this is a challenging job, and if there’s any question about your health—”

“Cut the crap, Gavyn. You’d send me out while I was in the middle of giving birth if the job paid well enough.”

Now why had she said that? Giving birth? Idiot.

Gavyn smiled and rubbed his own ever-rounding belly. “Funny you mention that, Al. I’m sending you up to the Pekora Forest for this one.”

Only the powerful shields Aleeza had built up since heading for the office kept her from betraying her emotions. Did Gavyn know where she’d been last night? She wouldn’t put it past the old man to fuck with her a little before he dealt out a punishment. But surely he wouldn’t be so blasé if he’d known what she’d been up to in the woods. Best to keep playing dumb and give out as little information as possible. “Oh? What’s up there, except a bunch of Amiantos?”

“That’s right. The Amiantos have hired us for this one. I’m sure you can’t wait to get better acquainted. Might be your chance to finally meet that special someone.” The words were ripe with sarcasm. If Gavyn had ever been married, Aleeza didn’t know about it, and he certainly knew how she felt about the undefiled coven.

“You know I don’t want to meet any damned Amiantos. I’m surprised you even took a job from them. Are you sure it’s not a trap? They might be working with the human police.”

“No, the job is legit. The question is, are you? I don’t want to send a frustrated virgin up there to be swept off her feet by some blond god and make our company, and our coven, look like a bunch of fools.”

“What are you talking about, Gavyn? I still feel the same way I always have about them,” Aleeza said, her heart beating fast in her throat. He knew. Shit, he had to know, and now she was going to be in the biggest trouble of her life. She might be kicked out of the coven or worse, she might be—

“Really? Because I’ve been hearing some things. Like maybe you’re getting a little too frustrated with celibacy. I heard you ended up on your ass in an alley last night so desperate you were going to let that living dildo Keller into your pants.” He stood up, all six feet of him looming over her from behind his desk. He was a big man in every sense of the word and the closest thing she’d had to a father since her own disappeared. Looking into his angry face and not spilling everything wasn’t the easiest thing she’d ever done, but she met his green eyes with her dark brown ones and willed a look of complete innocence onto her features.

“Not to mention, you reek of male. How many guys were you with last night?”

“W-What?” Goddess help her, she’d almost said, “only one.” “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know what I’m talking about.”

Shit. Shitshitshit. “Fine, Gavyn. Yes. I tried to pick up two different guys last night. I thought maybe if the guys weren’t supers I could make it work. It didn’t. The experience left me drained so I did a spell to charge back up and it’s made me a little high. Then my mom pumped me full of herbs this morning to ‘even out my humors’ and I’m about to throw up on your desk. I just need a shower and a nap, and I’ll be ready to go. I don’t want an Amiantos man any more than I ever did, and I’ve never, never, embarrassed this company.”

He gave her a hard look, then took a deep breath and sat back down. He’d bought it, at least for now. “No, you haven’t, but I’m warning you, Al—”

“Can we just get to the briefing so I can go home and clean up before I head into enemy territory?” All that training paid off. Lies came so easily to her now.

“They’re not my favorite coven either, but they’re the client and I expect you to treat them with respect. Amiantos might not be our friends, but neither are they the enemy.”

“They might as well be.”

“You can’t really believe that, Al. Sometimes it works out between the Gunera and the Amiantos. Just because your father—”

“Damn it, Gavyn, are you going to brief me or not?” She stood up, anger suddenly boiling in her chest. How dare he, how dare he talk like this? Who did he think he was? She wanted to hit him, to punch him, to slice his throat with her nails and let his blood run—the desire was so strong for a minute she thought she’d done it. She saw Gavyn’s limp body on the floor, saw herself standing over him, laughing, sucking his power into her body…

What the hell?!

“Aleeza? Aleeza! Are you okay?” Gavyn’s hands squeezed her arms so hard it hurt. Her vision cleared and she saw that his face, only inches away from hers, was thankfully unmarked. Had she really seen that? Goddess, had she really imagined doing something so terrible to Gavyn, her coven leader, her friend?

Her legs shook as she sank back into the chair. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I am, I’m just…I’m just tired. Could you get me something to drink, please? Preferably something with caffeine?”

“Caffeine might not be a good idea if you’re unbalanced today,” he said, actually looking as if he might regret having given her such a hard time. “I have—”

“Just anything. Please.” Please, let him leave her alone for a minute. He needed to leave her alone for a minute. Because the image of his broken body still shone in her head like a bright new penny and she had no idea why, but the thought of hurting him made her throb.

Something was definitely wrong, horribly wrong.

The feeling of foreboding didn’t disappear when Gavyn brought her some orange juice and started briefing her on the new job.

“Three witches murdered,” he said. “All on Fire Festivals. The first was Rimer Lorcan, at the Spring Equinox. Rimer was a loner, a petty criminal. He’d been covenless for years, and pissed off more people, super and human, than you can count on two hands. Everyone assumed it was a revenge killing until they did postmortem.” The picture she pulled from the file was so lurid with blood Aleeza had to close her eyes for a second. “They found evidence of ritual murder. Magical symbols carved into his organs—the ones they didn’t take, anyway.” Aleeza swallowed hard.
“Next was Carantha Smoler, on Beltane. This one was better documented than the first, more pictures, close ups of the symbols in the organs.” A picture of a woman’s battered, broken body seemed to leap out of the file at Aleeza. Tears sprang to her eyes. The woman was lovely—had been lovely. For a moment it was almost as if she could see her smiling, laughing…Aleeza shook her head. She was more tired than she’d thought. She’d never had psychic flashes like these before.

Unless the sex spell had opened her up somehow. She didn’t even want to think about that, couldn’t think about things like that until she was far away from Gavyn.

Whatever that odd flash was, it didn’t happen with the next picture.

“Lymera Brown.” Gavyn shifted on the arm of her chair. “Lammas. The Amiantos have no leads. Since the murders all took place in the forest, they’ve been the ones responsible for investigating, even though only two of the victims—Rimer and Carantha—were theirs. Lymera was Phillias coven, but she was going to marry an Amiantos, so they feel she was theirs too.”

“And now they want us to find the killer?”

Gavyn nodded. “Not only that. They want us to prevent the next murder, which if the perps follow their pattern will take place on Samhain…not quite a month away.”

Welcome Christine d'Abo to DNW!

2008-01-05T10:17:00.000-08:00

Deliciously Naughty Writers is so pleased to welcome Christine d'Abo to our ranks. Christine has been writing seriously since 2002. She has three books currently available at Ellora's Cave:

Genre: Contemporary

Abbey has a secret. Not only is she the mysterious Lady Phoenix, sensual storyteller, but she’s in lust with her co-worker and friend Michael Quinn.

When Michael becomes determined to uncover the truth about Phoenix, will they cast their friendship aside for a chance at something more?

Read an excerpt or buy.

Genre: Paranormal
Co-Authored with Author Renee Fields

Two sisters, two brothers - and a whole lot of sexy spells.

When the siblings uncover a plot to assassinate the witch council, they must put their differences aside to save not only the council, but themselves.

Read an excerpt or buy.

Genre: Romance/Futuristic

Together By Chance...Bound By Fate

Destiny chose him a mate that he couldn’t accept. She didn't believe in fate, but she cannot deny her growing bond to a man she's only just met.

Read an excerpt or buy.

Welcome, Christine!

New Release from SIERRA DAFOE

2008-01-05T09:49:00.000-08:00

Lord Cantwell is Claire's last hope of discovering her husband's fate—but no man has ever made her burn the way Darius does. And it's obvious he believes she's lying. There’s only one way she can prove her honesty—surrender her innocence to this grim, angry lord!

Read an exerpt or buy.

Stay Tuned

2007-11-28T06:34:00.001-08:00

We're trying to figure out what we want to do with this blog. We're still very much active! You can find us mostly hanging out at our website and MySpace page, as well as at Club Naughty--so if you're not a member, please come on over and join us!

Deliciously Naughty Writers - We get you in the mood!

Weddings on the mind...

2007-10-30T21:47:00.000-07:00

My mind is nearly consumed with thoughts of weddings these days. So much so that I nearly forgot to post here! My baby brother is getting married this weekend, and it's sure to be a party. I'm looking forward to seeing him and his fiancee get married, but I'm also surprised at how quickly the time has gone. I remember when I first met my brother's fiancee, back when they were just freshmen in college.

But why am I talking about weddings? I've also been thinking a lot lately about what romances promise readers. As a writer, what level of a "happily ever after" do I need to deliver on? Is it dependent upon the length of the story? Is it going to vary from story to story, period? As a reader, I started consuming romances when I was just starting high school. Being raised the good little Catholic girl I was, I believed in being married and being chaste until you were. Which is the main reason I stuck with Signet Regency Romances and other similar lines for so long. Now, as an adult, I recognize all the different flavors of life to suit the individuals we are as humans. I can play around with what promises my stories deliver on. But to what extent? My question to you, dear readers, at what point/s are you feel the promise of romance has been delivered?

New Review For CLAIMING HANNAH

2007-10-29T05:53:00.000-07:00

5 Angels!

"In Claiming Hannah, author Sherrill Quinn has created a threesome of two dominants and one sub and the fact that they readily admit to this makes for an absolutely explosive combination. From the minute they are together there is a high risk of self -combustion, and the flames just seem to get hotter as time goes by... There is a prequel, The Claiming, which sounds as if it is just as burn-your-fingers-hot as this one. This reader can only hope there is a third installment on the way it would appear that Ian is set to star in his own show… and with Ms. Quinn in the driver's seat, you'd better come prepared with your flame-resistant outer wear, because it's guaranteed to be smokin'!" (Lynn, Fallen Angel Reviews)

You can read the full review here.

To read an excerpt or buy, click here.

I'm sorry!

2007-10-25T15:59:00.000-07:00

Hi guys! I'm so sorry for standing you up today -- my husband's father is in the hospital, and the family is not expecting him to last very long. So we just got back from Maine, and expect to be going back in the morning. In the meantime, I'm going to try and be a good spouse (HA! but I can try) and see if I can keep him distracted.

-- Sierra

Wild Wednesday-lazy birthday post

2007-10-24T06:04:00.001-07:00

Okay, so it's my 30th birthday and I still have tons of errands to do today and kid stuff to deal with and so, in an attempt to spoil myself, I'm going to do a lazy blog!!!

Sorry, but I hope you'll enjoy two of my most favorite man meat photos....

Damn this guys just has it going on, I love his sexy dark dangerous vibe.

And here he is again, in a more pensive, manly moment. Sigh.

And I'll finish up with an excerpt from "Sinfully Sweet", which I just found out scored 5 hearts from The Romance Studio!!! yeay!

Happy day everyone,

Anna J. Evans

“Sinfully Sweet”
2nd in the Perfectly Wicked Series
By Anna J. Evans
July 6 2007
Link to buy:http://www.ellorascave.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=AJE

BLURB:

Bella’s a sweet candy maker, who’s been framed for a horrible crime. Being accused of trying to boil children in a vat of peanut brittle has been bad for business, and even worse for her heart. Can she save her company, or will the secret she’s sworn to keep force her to abandon her legacy as a beloved confectioner to the Kingdom?

Heath makes sex toys—kinky sex toys. This bad boy has a sweet tooth that’s out of control. He’ll do anything to convince Bella to create the flavors for his edible underwear and flavored condoms…absolutely anything. But a simple seduction goes awry when Heath begins to lose his heart, and an ancient curse shows both lovers how quickly sweet can cross the line into sinful.

EXCERPT:

Screw second thoughts. He wanted this woman and she wanted him. There was no way he’d let a case of performance anxiety—or whatever the hell this weird feeling was—make him pass up what would no doubt prove to be an amazing experience.

He would have Bella in every way that he wanted her. In bed, and as a member of his staff. He would just have to find a middle ground, find a way to claim her as his lover while still winning her as a colleague. He could walk the line. He was a line dancer from way back. Besides, his heart and his cock refused to settle for less, so his brain was just going to have to figure something out as he went along.

As he moved toward the bed, the kitchen table saved his life.

Or rather, what was on the kitchen table.

He grabbed the bowl, not even bothering to ask what was inside. It smelled great, looked like it tasted even better, and what better way to prove to her he was for real than to show her exactly how he’d like to use her unique gifts?

“What are you—”

“Shh. I have something to show you.” He dipped his fingers into the slightly warm, gooey white mixture and slowly reached out to her lips. She laughed as she realized what he had in mind, a sweet sound that made him want to laugh right along with her. But then she opened her mouth and reached out with the tip of her tongue, banishing his sense of humor.

God, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. He was seconds away from coming in his pants, and quickly changed his mind about how tame he wanted to begin her tutoring session.

Stopping inches short of her already kiss-swollen lips, he dropped his hand, keeping his eyes glued to hers so he could watch her response when he slowly circled her nipple with the sticky peppermint cream. She didn’t disappoint him, jumping slightly and emitting the softest hint of a moan when his hand made contact with her swollen tip.

Even that quiet, hungry sound, however, was enough to ramp up his own excitement another impossible notch. Heath had to fight for control, struggling to keep his pressure gentle, his fingers whisper-soft on her skin. There was a time for ripping off panties and fucking like wild animals, and there was a time for foreplay and a little erotic torture. This encounter was of the second variety, no matter how much his cock might try to persuade him otherwise.

“What is this stuff?” he asked. Talking was good, talking helped to keep his mind off how badly he wanted to taste something a lot more intimate than Bella’s latest batch of candy.

“Fudge.” Her lips trembled slightly and her eyes grew an even darker shade of blue as he flicked his thumb back and forth over her nipple, coating every inch of her.
Heath was so unbelievably turned on that he swore he could feel the same thrill of excitement that coursed through Bella as he touched her, feel when his teasing touch started to drive her over the edge.

“I like fudge,” he said, gently pushing her back onto the bed and lengthening himself above her. Deliberately he pressed his hips against hers, knowing she could feel the hard length of his erection against her thigh. His cock was seeking her center as if it would rip through his pants in its eagerness to merge with her completely. There shouldn’t be a shred of doubt left in her mind that he wanted her. Urgently. Painfully even.

“Fudge hardens quickly,” she whispered with a fantastically naughty smile, shifting her hips against his. A groan escaped his throat even as he smiled down at her.

“Then I’d better hurry up.” He held her gaze as he lowered his mouth to her breast and began licking her clean.

Didn't know they recruited the public for this...

2007-10-23T17:58:00.000-07:00

I heard about this on my drive to work this morning and could not stop laughing:

Durex Condom Testers - Their lead line is "Are you a sexual intercourse enthusiast?"

Now, if you could test drive anything, what would you want to do?

Demon of Her Dreams - Coming Wednesday

2007-10-22T05:39:00.000-07:00

The first book in the Sassy Devils series, Demon of Her Dreams, is coming in two more days!

Here's a sneak peek:

All supernatural creatures--angels, demons, faeries, trolls, werewolves, you name it--work for a company called Sassy Devils, LLC. The company has three main divisions: the Faery Division (the CEO is Tatiana); the Demon Division (the CEO is Lucifer); and the Angel Division (the CEO is the archangel Gabriel). The Chairman of the Board is God Himself. Whatever contact these supernatural "Others" have with humankind, it is directed by Sassy Devils. But...the Brotherhood of the Red Claw, a group of disenfranchised Others, is determined to wreak havoc with SD's plans in any way they can.

Demon of Her Dreams involves one of Lucifer's sons, Urian Vakidis, an incubus on an undercover mission to discover the leader of the Brotherhood and, hopefully, put a stop to the organization. His assignment brings him back into contact with Hailey Kovac, a woman he's fallen in love with through the sex dreams they've shared over the years. Hailey's strong and courageous, though certainly discombobulated by this recent twist in her reality. When it comes down to it, it takes both of them--with some help from Lucifer--to bring things to an end.

~ * ~
Lucifer sat in the opulent conference room and watched the fur fly. Literally. The CEO of the Faerie Division ripped out another handful of hair from the head of the Executive President of the Shape Shifters Department and flung it the length of the long table.

The werecat yowled in pain and reached toward the faerie queen with hands morphing into sharp-taloned claws.

"You need to get control of your furry there, Bub."

Lucifer glanced at the lavender-eyed being on his left. "You know I hate that name." Whoever had come up with the nickname Beelzebub--which his colleagues insisted on shortening to "Bub"--should be tossed into a lake of fire. And he just happened to know where a really big one was.

Ah, well, there were other things to worry about these days. There usually were. Motioning toward his subordinate, he shrugged. "He got himself into this mess--I want to see if he can get out of it." He watched the two combatants for a moment, shaking his head when the faerie managed to rip another chunk of hair off the werecat. Lucifer turned his gaze to the man in white at the head of the table. "Besides, the Big Guy there can stop it anytime He wants to."

"And maybe He's waiting to see how you handle it, did you ever think of that? Maybe He's testing your management ability?" Lavender eyes narrowed, Gabriel shifted on his stool and unfurled his wings in a wide stretch. As they settled behind his back once more, he muttered, "Our Great King's power may be unlimited, but His patience is not."

Lucifer settled more deeply into his padded leather chair. One upside to being cast out of Heaven--and losing his wings in the process--was that he usually didn't have to put up with all this melodrama. He could stay below and govern his grim domain.
Though he must admit, he did miss flying through the heavens with only clouds beneath him.

Irritated at the reminder of his own stupidity millennia ago, Lucifer pushed to his feet and slammed his hands onto the table. The loud crack garnered him the attention he sought. "You--" he pointed to his former Executive President--"go back to the Demon Division. We'll discuss this later." When the werecat hesitated, Lucifer brought up one hand and, calling forth the fire that burned in his soul, bounced a glowing ball of flame in his palm. "Go!"

The shape shifter winced and gave a low bow, his eyes never leaving the fiery sphere in Lucifer's hand. Once the werecat had left the room, Lucifer looked at the faerie queen. "And you," he drawled, clenching his fist, sending the fire back inside his body, "need to lighten up and learn how to take a joke."

The red-haired beauty pouted and flounced back to her seat. She tucked a long strand of curly hair behind one pointed ear. "I know how to take a bleedin' joke," she muttered, her sultry brogue reflecting her heritage amidst the rolling green hills of Ireland. "What he said wasn't funny."

"Aw, come on, Tatiana. It was kinda funny, even you have to admit that." Lucifer sat down and leaned back in his chair.

She crossed her arms, an action that plumped her cleavage. All the males in the room--well, all but one--leaned forward for a better look. A sensuous smile broke across her face. Picking up a pen, she rubbed her fingers up and down its length while she traced her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. Her deep blue eyes sparkled with feminine power.

Until she looked at Lucifer. Then the smile left her face and she slapped the pen onto the table. Her eyes darkened with annoyance. "'How many faeries does it take to change a light bulb' is funny?"

Trying to hold back a chuckle, he ended up snorting, which only made her scowl. "Hell, yes, it's funny," he said. "'Just one if you get him plugged in right' is a damned fine punch line."

"We're not bloody light bulbs," she shouted, jumping to her feet. In a fit of temper, she picked up her pen and threw it at him.

He dodged it with a laugh.

"Enough!" The deep voice boomed, making the gold-framed pictures on the wall rattle.

Silence reigned as everyone's attention turned toward the head of the table. Tatiana slowly sat down, her attitude as subdued as everyone else's. "Your pardon, my King."

"Thank you." Yahweh leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "If we can get back to business…" His steely gaze fixed on Lucifer. "I believe we were about to receive your progress report on the Brotherhood."

Lucifer nodded and stood. For months they'd been aware that all of their efforts--both good and bad--were being undermined. His son, Urian, had allegedly gone rogue to try to find out who, and why. Over the last six months, he'd managed to find the group--they called themselves the Brotherhood of the Red Claw--and was very close to discovering who the leader was.

This upset in the balance between good and evil had to be stopped, and soon, or there would be utter bedlam. And while that would make chaos demons quite happy, everyone else realized there had to be stability or life as they all knew it would end.

Copyright ©2007 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.

Demon of Her Dreams - coming October 24th at Ellora's Cave!

Eighth Wand released Wednesday!

2007-10-19T09:59:00.001-07:00

Buy it here.

The tarot card Prudence finds at a Wiccan Beltane festival promises passion, travel, and the end of a stagnant, dull situation. She has no idea that the card's prediction is about to come true in the form of Royd, a warrior of the Fae on Earth to retrieve the eighth wand of his people's lands, stolen from them by Prudence's grandmother.

Royd wants only to take the wand back home, until he sees Prudence and is instantly captivated by her vibrancy and life. Together they must fight to send him safely back with his prize, but perhaps in Prudence he's found something just as valuable…and just as hard to lose.

Chapter One

The problem with the women of the Bright Moon coven was that they insisted on doing outdoor rituals without shoes on. Prudence knew it could be worse. The thought of going skyclad—naked—filled her with horror.
But now the circle had ended and Prudence, unable to find her sandals, was picking her way through the woods to find fuel for the bonfire while pebbles and sticks scraped and poked her feet.
Good thing it was Beltane and almost summer. She couldn’t imagine doing this at Samhain in the October chill. They better have the fire ready before the ritual then. If she was still in the coven.
Ignoring the large logs she couldn’t easily carry, Pru filled her arms with smaller sticks. One load down. She’d head back, drop these off and—
“Where is it?”
Pru gasped and spun around, dropping the sticks. One of them landed squarely on her poor bare foot.
“Ouch! Damn it, shit!” She stepped forward with her good leg, reaching down to hold her injured foot, and fell over. Something sharp stabbed her in the shoulder. “Ow!” Struggling to sit, she glared at the man standing a few feet away. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Enough games. Where is it?”
“Excuse me?” The sun had almost set. All Pru could see of the stranger was his shadowy outline, large and solid. Blue-black highlights shone in his hair where the last rays of light came through the trees.
She’d thought he was one of the men from the ritual. It seemed she was wrong. She would have remembered those broad shoulders and that thick, long hair.
“Where is the wand?”
Those rays highlighted the clear lines of some impressive muscles as well. Prudence rose from the ground, her fingers curled around one of the thickest of the fallen sticks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You lie.”
“Hey! Who do you think you are?” Brandishing the stick, Pru started inching her way backward, feeling carefully with her toes to make sure she didn’t trip. “If you want a wand so bad, you should have come in time for the festival and bought one. All the booths are closed now, it’s time for the bonfire.”
Something else flitted through her mind, but she ignored it. So she’d found a tarot card earlier, so what? The eight of wands didn’t mean anything to anyone, really. Of course, it had meanings—travel, all-consuming passion, freedom from a stagnant situation—but finding the card meant nothing. The man couldn’t possibly be talking about that.
Could he?
“But you have been near it,” he said. “I see it in your aura.”
“Don’t look at my aura, that’s private.” Had she ever uttered a stupider sentence? Probably not. Not even “Of course I can eat a whole gallon of ice cream at once”.
At least she’d stumped him. He stood there staring at her—she could feel his gaze on her skin—for so long she almost managed to edge all the way out of the clearing before he moved.
He must have moved, anyway. One minute he stood opposite her, the next—the next he loomed over her, his chest only inches from her nose. Damn, he was tall.
And just as well-built as he’d appeared at first. Slim, but defined. An intricate black tattoo decorated his entire chest, snaking over the expanse of muscles, hiding his nipples. She couldn’t make out the pattern—wings? A chalice of some kind?—but she could smell the earthy scent of his skin and see the thin leather cord wrapped around his upper arm.
Heart pounding, she forced herself to look up. A brave woman, a strong woman, would look him in the eyes, and brave and strong was what Prudence knew deep down she could be.
So she met his eyes, those black holes set deep in the man’s sharp-boned face. Her mouth fell open. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew the brave and strong woman didn’t gape at men like she’d never seen one before, but it was impossible to stop herself, not when her entire body leaned forward as if she could climb into him and never leave.
It wasn’t simply how handsome he was, although she could honestly say she’d never seen a man as striking. Something in his eyes…called her. Promised her something. She couldn’t explain it any better than that, even to herself.
“Your aura cannot hide, even if your words try to,” he said, and his voice poured over her like spiced wine. “Where have you hidden it? If you give it to me now, my people may not seek revenge. If you delay—”
“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She yanked herself away, struggling as if he held her physically. “Leave me—”
He grabbed her. Despite the warmth of the evening, goose bumps erupted on her skin. He might as well have given her an electric shock. His sharp intake of breath echoed in her ears. He tilted his head. “Beltane.”
“What?”
“Sex crawls across your skin. You have not had a man in a long time. Too long.”
“Now that’s none of your business! How dare you—”
He ignored her, instead loosening his grip on her arm and sliding his hands up her skin, so lightly it almost tickled. He’d spoken of her aura. Now she could almost see it too, as if he touched it and not her skin. Despite her anger and irritation, she shivered. Her nipples, bare under her loose gown, hardened and poked against the thin fabric. She was certain he could see it, even if he somehow couldn’t read her reaction in the way her breath caught in her throat.
Dear Goddess, what was happening here? Why weren’t any of the other coven members coming to find her? The sun was only a thin, bright line of gold on the horizon, barely visible through the trees. Darkness wrapped around them, darkness and the stillness of a forest on the edge of night. Didn’t they notice she wasn’t there?
Hell, didn’t they at least need the wood she carried?
She swallowed. “How dare you speak to me like that.” She’d meant to sound forceful. Instead the words came out in a rush of breath. She sounded like a young girl trying to talk to her first crush.
“I propose a trade,” he said. “I need the wand. You need a man. Why not allow me to pleasure you in exchange?”

Wild Wednesday with Anna-let's talk abs...

2007-10-17T09:49:00.000-07:00

Welcome to another edition of Wild Wednesday, I'm your host Anna J. Evans and I'd like to talk about abs....man meat abs to be specific. I'm wondering how much starvation and abdominal torture the man above had to endure to get that eight pack? These are the things I think about when I see abs like that, and it takes away from my man-ogling enjoyment. Do you feel what I'm saying here?

I mean...

Look at this dude. He obviously needs to eat a twinkie. I'd rather see the abs covered in a bit of a protective fat layer than be able to trace the lines of the six pack simply because my man hasn't been eating properly. I'm not a big fan of starvation, and I think there has to be a happy medium between abliness and healthiness.

Like this guy! Look...nice tone, great definition, but he's not taking it too far. There's still some meat on his bones. He looks relatively well fed, like he eats a steak once and awhile and doesn't worry about it.

Which I think is totally sexy. A man who can't resist the urge to indulge his appetite for food is a man who enjoys indulging other appetites as well...you know what I'm saying?

Happy hump day all! See you next week!

Anna J. Evans

Fantasies...getting your engine going

2007-10-16T12:55:00.000-07:00

Fantasies are on my mind a lot lately. Winning the Lotto. Hooking up with the guy I've had a crush on since we were four years old. The credit cards all paid off. Jetting off to the destination of my choice without having to worry about how I was paying for it, or needing to be back at a certain date to go back to work. Having all of the housework magically done. My buddha belly morphing into a 6-pack. See, lots of different fantasies.

But we're here to talk about the more lustful kind of fantasies, aren't we? Lately, in addition to the lifelong crush, these guys have been making guest appearances in my fantasies:

Sean Patrick Flanery

The first volume of the Young Indiana Jones Chronicles are due out next week. I've had a crush on the character of Indy since I was a wee child. Sean as Indy got my teenage hormones *all* worked up!

Milo Ventimiglia

Looking at his hot bod alone makes Heroes worth watching.

and last, but oh so certainly not least,

Josh Radnor

The star of "How I Met Your Mother", who greatly appeals to my lust of dark haired, boys next door.

Whisper in my ear...who are you fantasizing about now?

Writing 101: Write The Story You Want To Read

2007-10-15T05:46:00.000-07:00

One of the nuggets of writing advice is "Write what you know." I'm not completely sure I agree with that, because I don't *know* any vampires or werewolves, yet I love to write them. I don't *know* anyone who pilots a spaceship, but I've written about a couple of them, too.

One thing I *do* agree with, as perhaps is illustrated by the above paragraph, is this advice: Write the story *you* want to read. Don't write what you think other people want to read, don't worry about what your mother will think. Write for yourself. The second you start writing to please someone else, or try to censor yourself so you won't offend someone, or writing for money (not that we don't want to be paid--and paid as well as possible--for our talent, that just can't be the only reason), you look outward and not inward. Doing that, you run a very big risk of losing what is unique about your voice.

As you craft your story, be your toughest critic. Face the fact that the first words from your fingers onto the screen will probably *not* be the best ones. Ask yourself: What is there about this character that will make someone else (besides me) care about him? What drives the reader to keep turning the pages? Keep honing your skills and don't be afraid to take risks. And make the story you want to read the best one you can write.

Sierra's Story Hour -- Space Cowboy, part 2!

2007-10-11T20:25:00.000-07:00

Whee-hah!!! Just got finished over at the EC loop, where we had the first Kelli’s Kittens list day (I am the lone outrider of the Deliciously Naughties -- all my compatriots in carnality are with the equally-fabulous Brianna) and WHOA! What a chat! You guys were great. What a great way to spend my day, instead of being all nervous about tomorrow. (Is there a single person left in cyber-land who doesn’t know what’s happening tomorrow? :p)

And now we return to our just-started adventure…

Some People Call Me Space Cowboy (part 2)

Now, one of the big reasons I’ve always stayed away from cybering is it irks my last English-major nerve to try and get it on with someone who actually thinks “Then u suk my dik real hard, baby” has any degree of arousal quotient whatsoever. But hey, I’d opened that door. I’d extended the invitation. And what the hell, I could always just shut down the IM if it started getting boring.

It didn’t.

*I can tell the moment you walk through the door it’s been a rough one. You’ve got that little furrow in your forehead that tells me immediately my Jewels needs a martini, a massage, and a blowjob in a big way.*

My eyebrow shot up. Wow, I thought. I even drink martinis.

*Dry?* I queried.

*The martini? Of course. But the blowjob will be nice and wet.*

Hmm! Promising, I thought to myself.

*You’re right* I typed quickly, *it’s been a bad day. And I’m just in the mood to take it out on someone.*

*Then here,* he shot back quickly, the words flowing across the screen. *Sit down right here, on the edge of the bed. Is that better?*

*Maybe.*

*I put your ‘tini in your hand, watching you take a first, approving sip. I like the way the olives brush against your lips as you drink. I like the way your jaw relaxes, and you sigh. You watch me as I kneel before you, easing your shoes off, my fingers working over your soles, pressing firmly into the arch as you groan. I can feel the tension flowing downward, loosening your limbs, pooling instead in your groin as you study me, my head bent before you, my shaggy blond hair falling around my face.*

*Long hair?*

*Of course.*

I swear, I almost hear him chuckle as he typed it.

*I’m naked already,* he continues, and at the words a small jolt of heat shot through me. Gods, what would it be like, having a man waiting for me at home, waiting naked with a martini in his hand?

One thing for sure, I would’ve been out of this office hours ago. Hell with deadlines.

*You take another sip of your drink, your other hand coming to rest on my shoulder, playing over the broad, rolling muscles and the warm, smooth skin as I knead your feet, first one then the other, pulling them up into my lap as I rub them. You can feel my cock thickening as your foot brushes against it, I know -- because I look up and see that wicked little smile you get. And then you trail your toes down my cock.*

Shit! I felt that. I swear to God I did -- hard, throbbing erection right under my toes, pressing against the sole of my foot. Wow, he’s good.

I wait, but he stops typing. God damn it. A little more eager than I care to admit, I type, *And then what?*

He says, *I lean my head back, enjoying the sensation -- so wrapped in it my hands fall still. I stop rubbing your foot.*

Well, God damn it, I think, pay attention to what you’re doing!

There’s a momentary hesitation. Then he types, *What do you do then?*

Holy shit. Here’s this naked man, kneeling at my feet. He’s already put himself at my beck and call. I stop short, realizing my heart is pounding in my chest. My fingers are even shaking a bit as I lift my hands to the keyboard, pause, and then type quickly something I’ve never let myself type before.

*I grab your hair -- your long, beautiful hair.*

*Yes,* he says. *Hard?*

*Hard enough to make you wince as I drag your head back, forcing you to look up at me.*

*Yes…* I almost hear him whisper.

*Your job is to please me. You’re not doing it.*

*I’m sorry,* he replies quickly, *It just felt so good, Jewels!*

*My cock throbs at the note in your voice,* I type back. *I love it when you’re so aroused you can barely control yourself. But you will control yourself,* I add sternly. *Now come here.*

*Yes, Jewels. I rise to my feet, stand waiting before you, my cock jutting out, already so hard it’s throbbing. Repentant, I keep my hands away from it.*

*Good. But you still must be punished. Moving back on the bed, I pull you down across my lap, your ass turned up toward me. Your cock nudges my thighs and I spread them slightly, letting your erection glide between them, rubbing against mine. You whimper -- whether from arousal or mortification I don’t know. I bring my hand down hard, leaving a stinging smack across your ass. You jerk, your cock pressing against mine, your breath hissing between your teeth.*

*Yes. I bite my lip, trying to keep from crying out, trying to keep from annoying you further.*

*But you like it when I spank you, don’t you?*

Silence.

*Tell me.*

*Yes.*

*Now tell me what you do next, what you feel.*

I sit back, realizing I’m already panting, realizing the hard point of my nipples are erect, rubbing against my shirt. There’s an ache in my groin that blots out everything, the time, the deadlines, everything except his words as they appear one by one on the screen. I watch them hungrily, wanting them to appear faster, faster…

*I can’t help it -- I arch my back, pressing my hard, rounded ass up toward you, silently begging for more. When it comes, my whole body stiffens, my cock driving deep between your thighs, jabbing against yours. I feel you shift, pushing the ridge of your shaft hard against mine, the tip of it so full I can feel the thick, meaty lip dragging along my erection, making it harder still. You smack me again, hard and stinging. My asscheeks burn with the strokes as you spank me again and again, each slap taking me closer to the edge… My balls are mashed against the firm muscle of your thigh, my cock trapped between your legs as you squeeze them together, holding me there till I’m almost crying, the agony is so sharp, so arousing… My whole groin is on fire and tears pour down my cheeks as I revel in the sensations you send coursing through my body. I’m just about to explode, my cock throbbing between your thighs -- I can picture it, shooting off right there, my jizz coating your cock, my balls swelling and contracting against the hard muscle of your thigh…*

Oh shit. He’s not the only one on the verge of coming. I realize I’m drooling, my mouth flooded with saliva, and swallow hastily as he goes on.

*But you’re not ready to let me come yet. Scornfully, you push me off you, forcing me back onto the floor, on my knees. Burying your hands in my hair, you drag my head to your cock, the hot, swollen head of it playing against my lips as you look down at me and smile coldly.*

*And then?* I can’t wait. I can’t wait for him to go on. My groin is on fire, my belly full of an aching need that demands relief now, right now…

*And then,* he types-- and I breath a sigh of relief, one hand stealing toward my crotch, *Then you meet me online tomorrow. Same place, same time. Till tomorrow, my lovely Jewels.*

SpacePirate69 has logged off at 11:19 p.m.

The IM box goes blank, and I howl in frustration.

Till next week, everybody!

-- Sierra

sierradafoe.com

Make Me -- coming tomorrow from Ellora's Cave!

Wild Wednesday 3-naked men and flora?

2007-10-10T07:22:00.000-07:00

Hey all,

It's wild Wednesday here on the Deliciously Naughty blog and today we're talking about men...and flowers. Not getting flowers from men--though I'd be interested to know your thoughts on that, I enjoy flowers as long as they aren't the stereotypical roses and don't look as though they were purchased in a hurry at the grocery around the corner as a last minute kind of thing--but men surrounded by flowers.

Wallowing in flowers.

Being manly and in the buff with...flowers. For example:

Nice bower effect here....shimmery lake in the background...

And in this one you've got a few strategically placed daisies to draw your eye to certain barely concealed manly bits...

Same here, but with um...something else going on...I think the flowers are tickling him and making him laugh? ...or maybe that yellow one is biting him? I'm not quite sure...

But this guy also looks a little afraid even though plants here aren't of the flowering varietal...

And then, there's this guy....

No comment necessary there, but this was the kind of stuff I found when I googled "hunks with flowers" and "beefcakes with flowers". *Shudder*

Aren't there any hot pictures of men and flowers? Pictures that don't look goofy or just...odd?

If you find any, please let me know, but for now I'm going to have to conclude that:

Nake Men + Flowers = Not so sexy

Until next Wednesday!!

Anna J. Evans

http://annajevans.com

Genre, what genre?

2007-10-09T19:44:00.000-07:00

::Blinks:: Oh, hi! Readers, yeah, need to talk to the readers. ::Slaps self across face:: ::Vigorously shakes head:: Di-i-i-i-i-i-i... ::Presses brain reset button::

Don't you wish you had a brain reset button? I do. Sadly, one has yet to be invented. You are now the recipient of a musing on genre (ie. romance, erotica, mystery, etc.) as I have just spent some time, enjoyably, debating what makes a book a certain genre. I really hope I don't lose the argument, but I am prepared for the possibility. It won't horribly wound me if I do lose it, anyway, because it's a day profession argument.

These days, so many books are "cross-genre" books. At what point does a book no longer belong in a certain genre? What do you expect out of "cross-genre" books when you're reading it mainly for one of the genres? What do you think of authors who write "cross-genre", but maybe not that successfully? Are there any authors out there you think who do "cross-genre" very well? What authors are out there that you think are great examples of their "named" genre, but would greatly appeal to readers of another genre (and which genre would that be)?

I'm really interested in what readers have to say on this topic because of the day profession argument/discussion. From an author perspective this is also important to me because my stories are usually a mix of genres, though I try to focus on a main genres with supporting elements from other genres. What readers have to say is very important. You're the ones buying our books, and if we're not meeting your expectations to the best of our ability, you're not going to buy our stories, which means, we're not making any money. So, as a reader of genre fiction, tell me what *you* think of the concept of genres.

Writing 101: Making Your Characters Sympathetic

2007-10-08T06:59:00.000-07:00

As a writer, one thing you need to remember when creating your characters is this: Even the most villainous must have clear motivation.

In other words, all of your characters must behave in a way your readers will believe. Because, after all, the best villains believe they are heroes--they are doing what needs to be done for whatever reason. So, not just for your hero and heroine, you should also know your villain--his background, education, ambitions, emotional events, wounds (real or imagined), fears, obsessions, etc.

You can use physical appearance, dialogue and reactions to events as tools to create characters that readers identify with--even your villain. Physical appearance should be consistent with personality--strength of will, stubbornness and vacillation are often visible in a face. Passion and appetite can show in a mouth, as does indecision or insensitivity. Movement, expression, pitch of voice can say a lot about a person. Body language can reveal a great deal, too--hands, fingers--at rest or moving.

It's a good idea to provide some description of your characters--readers will build a picture in their mind and if it doesn't coincide with something that occurs later in the book they'll be upset. It's far more effective to "show" your characters rather than describe them (or "tell"). Dialogue is one of the best ways of doing this. The feelings that characters express and the words they choose are very strong indicators of personality, and much sharper to the reader than descriptions of vices, virtues, wit, gentleness, etc.

Try to key your descriptions to one or two features--an emotional sketch, an impression rather than a photographic portrait from which characters could be identified. Shape and coloring can be less important than expression. There are also less obvious features--eyebrows, hairline, curve of cheek or throat, ears and teeth. A description--blue eyes, brown hair, straight nose, wide mouth--says less about the person than something more personal like humorous eyes, uncertain mouth, quick to laugh but curiously sulky in repose. And above all, avoid cliches such as "twinkling eyes" or "generous mouth." (I find my heroes all have glittering eyes, especially when they're aroused. Trying to show that arousal in a different way is a challenge.)

Just remember: For the plot of your story to be powerful, the reader has to believe that all of the character would really behave as they do.

Come chat Sunday at Ellora's Cave!

2007-10-05T12:51:00.000-07:00

Join the Deliciously Naughty Writers for a
Deliciously Naughty evening of fun at Ellora's Cave!

Sierra Dafoe
Anna J. Evans
Kelly Maher
December Quinn
Sherrill Quinn
And Friends

Sunday October 7th from 4pm-10pm EST
on the Ellora's Cave Chat loop

Win FREE DOWNLOADS of ebooks from your favorite EC writers including Taige Crenshaw, Mackenzie McKade, A.D. Christopher, Christine D'abo, Desiree Holt, Anna J. Evans, Sierra Dafoe and MORE.

Don't miss it!!

Thursday is now Sierra's Story Hour day!

2007-10-04T10:56:00.000-07:00

Thank you for joining me for the first installment of Sierra’s Story Hour, our new Thursday feature here at the Deliciously Naughty Writers blog! It’s an experiment and an adventure for me -- every week, I will write and post a new segment of an ongoing story, and when the story’s complete, I’ll post it on my free stories page at sierradafoe.com!

Thursday’s also my day to let you know what’s going on in Sierra-land, too, so… WOO-HOO! One week! No, not even one week -- six days and my first Ellora’s Cave book will be out! Yup, Make Me is coming very, very soon, guys -- I hope you’ll come join us at the Deliciously Naughty list mom day this Sunday from 4-10 pm at the EC Chat loop!

And Devarian Renegades, the fifth book in my (ahem) award-winning Devarian series, has just released from Changeling Press! I love the Devarian universe, I really do -- I keep finding more stories I want to tell there. For those of you who read Devarian Uprising, you may remember this brief passage:

“There’s just something about a naked woman with a sword in her hand.”

Soleyla looked up. Rolen was watching her from the bed, one arm curled lazily behind his neck, his eyes, so deep a blue they were almost black, still heavy with sleep. The sight of his thick ebony hair, sticking out in odd directions, made her grin. “Oh, really?”

He sat up, revealing a body that was built on a Herculean scale; broad, powerful shoulders, chest like an ox, with a heavy dusting of black curls tapering to a trail down the center of a stomach that rippled like waves of iron.

That wasn’t the only thing like iron this morning, Soleyla noted.

Rolen nodded at the sword. “It was my father’s. And my grandfather’s.”

“And your grandmother’s before that.”

“What?” Startled, Rolen rose. Soleyla flipped the sword over and laid it on the table.

“Look.” As he peered at the pommel, his forehead wrinkling in puzzlement, Soleyla laid her own sword beside it. “The lines have changed -- the pommel’s shorter, the balance higher -- but this is a Guardian sword. Here.” She turned her blade over as well, and Rolen’s eyes widened. In the metal of both, just below the crossbar, was etched the same pattern, nine interlocking circles, and below it, a name. Bending close, Soleyla read the worn engraving. “Merrin Trafalgar. Captain. Antoros was settled by Guardians, Rolen.”

“But... how? Why?”

For the same reason, Soleyla suspected, that she herself was here. “There was a ship that disappeared, the Star Strider. Two centuries ago.” Her gaze rested on Kantou as she spoke, drinking him in. He’d shifted as Rolen rose, and lay now with one arm thrown over his head, his long legs outflung. He looked so innocent, so vulnerable, sleeping with his head tilted back, exposing the strong, graceful curve of his neck, that Soleyla felt a fierce stab of protectiveness.

Had Merrin Trafalgar once felt the same way? Soleyla rather suspected she had. “There was no distress signal, no emergency beacon. Nothing. The ship just disappeared. “ She looked at Rolen, her eyes bright. “I think Captain Merrin went renegade. She and all her crew.”

And thus Devarian Renegades was born! Come read an excerpt today -- just click here!

New on sierradafoe.com just this morning -- a special interview with featured guest author Shelley Munro, along with excerpts and a special contest (click here for details); the events page is now up, and there’s a LOT going on this month! Plus, the October contest has officially started! My site server’s being a pain in the butt, so more updates will have to wait till this evening. Check in often at sierradafoe.com!

And now… Hmmm… What shall I write about? Where do we want to go today? How about…

Some People Call Me Space Cowboy
(I'll warn you right now, I have no idea where this is going!)

It wasn’t like I didn’t have plenty of work to do, God knows. That’s one of the dubious joys of being self-employed -- the boss always knows when you’re slagging off. But damn it, I had just put in a solid eleven hours straight writing code and I wanted a break.

I guess SpacePirate69 knew that, because that’s when he pinged me.

No, he wasn’t on my im list. In fact, I’d never seen the name before, not on the chat loops I hung out on, not on the messageboards… Nowhere. And c’mon, 69? I mean, that’s a guaranteed “block this user” from me. Not that I don’t like 69-ing… just not with people I’ve never even seen.

But eleven hours of staring at html’ll make anybody a little loopy.

Sure, I’ll fuck with your head a while, why not? An evil smile on my lips, I clicked open the message box. *Yeah? I’m here.*

*I know. Hello Jewels.*

That’s my username, I should explain. RoyalJewels2002. Which tells you how long I’ve been online. Not a newbie here, folks -- I’ve been around the block. The other thing I like is it’s asexual -- no way to tell if I’m a guy or a girl.

Hmmm, I thought, tapping my teeth, which shall I be today?

I decided to play it coy for a bit. *Hello yourself, Pirate. Permission to come aboard?*

*Front port or aft?*

Hey, he’s quick, I chuckled. If he’s a he. *Are those my only options?*

*Front port’s on the top deck, rear port’s down in steerage. And yeah, those are your options.*

Yup. He was a he. So which was I today? I typed quickly. *Prepare for boarding, Pirate. I’ll warn you in advance, I’ve had a long, hard day -- it might be a rough ride.*

*I like it rough* he shot back immediately. *And long and hard, too.*

*You got it, space boy. Why don’t you get me started?*

Boy, was that ever a mistake.

Tune in next Thursday for Space Cowboy, part 2!

-- Sierra

sierradafoe.com

Wild Wednesday 2-Ride 'em Cowboy!

2007-10-03T04:48:00.001-07:00

Yes my pretties, we have a theme today!! Themed naughtiness for hump day, what could be better?

"You lookin' at me little filly? Checkin' out the manliness?"

Yes we are, it's wild Wednesday. (Duh, manmeat!)

"I done pulled down my levis so you can get a look at my Ken Doll bits."

"It's the chaps ma'am, I can't help it if they...draw the eye to certain manly places."

And now a little naughty cowboy goodness from my October 5th release (that's this Friday, whee!!) from Ellora's Cave.

"Love Fool"
ISBN 9781419911897
By Anna J. Evans
Part of the Torrid Tarot Series
Coming October 5th from Ellora's Cave
Link to Buy: http://www.ellorascave.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=AJE

BLURB:

Mandy Miller is not the type of girl who wakes up in a strange room, staring at a strange ceiling, with a pounding headache, a pair of skinned knuckles and no underwear. Unfortunately she is the type to fall head over heels for all the wrong kinds of men. Men just like the handsome cowboy lying next to her who--aside from the fact they'd apparently slept together--she doesn't know from Adam.

The last thing Joe Paloma wants is a relationship after a divorce that pulled his heart out through his nose with a rusty fishing hook. But he can't deny he's tempted to give up his infamous bad boy ways if it means waking up to a woman like Mandy every morning.

Neither expects the extremes of passion or the depths of love they'll find now that they've met their match--another brave enough to love with the heart of a fool.

EXCERPT:

“You always put your hat on before your clothes?” she asked as Mr. Studly reached out to his bedside table, fetched a dark brown suede hat and positioned it on his head with an easy gesture that said he’d done the same a million times before.

“Don’t want you to see me with bed head.” His wicked smile revealed startlingly white, even teeth. Could teeth be sexy? She wouldn’t have thought so, but that smile set her entire body to thinking about a kind of nibbling that had nothing what-so-ever to do with food.

“Are you that vain?”

“I was thinking it might jog your memory.”

“Not really. Sorry,” Mandy denied, though there was a strange tickling somewhere deep in her brain that she supposed was her tequila muddied synapses making an effort to put two and two together to make something close to four.

“Well, then, maybe this will help,” her cowboy said in a soft, sensuous tone that caressed her in places that no voice should be able to touch.

Carelessly, he tossed his hat to the floor, and then he was suddenly on top of her, that bare chest only inches from her still aching nipples. His thick muscled arms flexed on either side of her and his lips descended toward hers with a predatory hunger that took her breath away and made her undie-less sex start to pulse with anticipation.

“Mmm!” Mandy hummed, sucking her lips into her mouth and biting down.

“What?” he asked, nuzzling her nose with his, his breath puffing warmly onto her face smelling slightly of cinnamon. How could the man have fragrantly delicious morning breath? He was clearly not of this earth. Maybe she’d been abducted by aliens last night. That seemed more likely than the forgotten one night stand and she felt tempted to peek under the sheet and see what kind of equipment Jose was sporting. Surely aliens didn’t have your normal, average, everyday guy parts and-

“Jose!” Mandy shouted into his face before quickly clamping her mouth shut. She refused to breathe on another human being this morning. It would just be cruel and unusual punishment.

“You remember,” he said with a devilish little smile, before he dropped his lips to her neck and began trailing soft kisses from her jaw down to the collar of what she assumed was his shirt.

“You don’t look like a Jose.” Mandy tried not to close her eyes and moan, to arch toward that mouth, to thread her hands through that silky blonde hair and pull him as close as two beings could possible get.

She didn’t know if it was the tequila still floating around in her system or some sort of pheromone overdose, but she couldn’t ever remember being this aroused this early in the morning. She was a night person. She didn’t like to speak more than five words before noon and at least five cups of coffee, but right now she would gladly get up and make breakfast, recite the Gettysburg address and stand on her head if it meant he would keep touching her, kissing her and gradually settling the delicious weight of his body down onto her own.

“That’s what you said last night.” His words were muffled as his mouth kissed past the hollow of her throat, down the slightly freckled skin of her chest, to where her shirt was still presently buttoned. Mandy did moan then, a small sound that turned to a gasp as his strong hands closed around her ribcage, holding her firmly in place while his mouth went to work on separating button from hole.

“I mean, you just don’t look very…ethnic,” Mandy heard herself say, regretting the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

What was she thinking? After spending five years as a party planner to the stars, she should know better. She was usually the Queen of PC, but obviously her mind wasn’t functioning properly this morning. She was too worried about how in the hell she was going to stop this from going any further when all she wanted was to let go and let him ravish her ten different ways. Her pussy was already aching painfully, throbbing with the need to have him pumping away inside of her, tunneling as deep as he could possibly go. She even had a hunch this cowboy was capable of filling more than the emptiness of her body, that maybe Mr. Blue Eyes might be able to ease the painful emptiness in her heart as well.

“That’s what you said last night, though not so diplomatically,” he said as he set to work on another button with his skillful mouth.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can-”

“That’s alright. No one seems to have a problem believing there are red headed Italians, but most have issues with blonde Mexicans.”

“No, I meant I can’t do this,” Mandy said, bringing her hands to his face, effectively stopping him before he managed to undo another button.

If he put that mouth to work on her full, aching breasts, swirling that tongue around her tightened nipples, maybe pulling them into the wet heat of this mouth…she would be done for. There would be no turning back and she couldn’t let that happen. She wasn’t into casual affairs. She never had been and she wasn’t about to start now. She wanted a wilder life, but also a better life here in Austin, and that wasn’t going to happen if she started banging complete strangers. She didn’t want to throw away her fresh start by falling for a cowboy who, other than the fact that his name was Jose and they’d apparently slept together, she didn’t know from Adam.

And she would fall, she had no doubt about that. That was her specialty, falling hard for the wrong kind of man again and again and again. But she was tired of being the good woman who sat at home, wondering where her boyfriend was and what or who he was doing. From now on, she was going to be the wild one, the girl who took no prisoners in the bedroom or out of it, and she would find herself a nice, steady man to be the calm center in the eye of her storm.

Perhaps her reasoning was a bit flawed, but she figured she could at least give it a try. After all, if she were the crazier half of a couple, she felt she might really have a chance at a future. Because no matter how free spirited she decided to be, she would never cheat on a man that she loved, never risk losing something so precious. Too bad she couldn’t say the same for her former flames.

Bad boys, every last one of them. They looked different, came from different backgrounds, and worked different jobs, but they all had one thing in common: they were heartbreakers, cheaters, and master manipulators. Looking at the handsome rake whose face she now cradled in her hands, she couldn’t believe that he’d be any different. Men that beautiful just couldn’t be faithful, at least not in her experience, and experience was the best teacher—or at least the harshest.

“I’m sorry, this just isn’t right,” she repeated, wiggling slightly beneath him, hoping he would remove himself from the bed before she lost what little will power she had mustered.

“Why not?” he asked, his blue eyes looking deep into her brown with an intensity that made her shiver.

“I’m just…I don’t…”

“You don’t have one night stands?” he said with a smile that seemed almost affectionate, like he knew her more intimately than he possible could have. It was the smile of a man who laughed at your jokes, who knew what kind of cereal you liked to eat, who thought it was cute that you were scared to watch horror flicks after dark and still had your favorite stuffed animals tucked away beneath your bed.

“Did I tell you that last night, too?” Mandy asked, her voice husky with more than physical need. She had dreamed of a man looking at her just like this, smiling at her with such honesty, such…what was the word? It couldn’t be love. He was a complete stranger, wasn’t he? Then why did she feel like she was coming home when those strangely sexy teeth smiled in a way that was for her eyes only?

Oh no, it was happening again. She was falling, fast, and had suddenly lost all desire to even try to run. What was she going to do with herself? She was going to have to think long and hard about that as soon as she was able to concentrate on anything but the hard, warm, male body snuggling into even more intimate contact with hers.

“You didn’t have to. It was written all over your face.” Then he kissed her with a gentle, insistent passion that completely took her breath and all concerns about its freshness away.

Happy Hump Day All!!

Anna J. Evans

http://annajevans.com
Fan the flames...

Anyone can write a romance...

2007-10-02T10:13:00.000-07:00

If anyone could write a romance, and have it be easy, I'd have a lot more hair ;) Last night, registrations opened for 2007's National Novel Writing Month. I highly recommend anyone who thinks they can write a romance to take up the challenge. I've participated three or four times (the potential fourth time is a bit fuzzy), and I've only "won" once. I recently sold that winner to Ellora's Cave...after *much* revision. It takes a lot of discipline to write a 50,000 word novel that, not only is fairly coherent, but can be whipped into the shape of a publishable novel.

I wish anyone who undertakes this the best of luck. It's a very draining experience, but it helps writers define what is important in their lives and prioritize those items. This year I'm not planning on participating, mainly because I've already planned what I'll be writing in November. It's a short story, well under the 50K required to win. Also because I've already prioritized my current responsibilities and projects, and a short story is all I have time to write.

I'll conclude this with the best piece of advice I've ever heard. As I've heard it from numerous people, I couldn't begin to cite it: "Write what you love." If you don't love romance, please don't waste your time trying to write one. Figure out what you do love, and spend your time writing that.

Writing 101

2007-10-01T05:48:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd take my time here on the DNW blog and post some brief writing tips. Hopefully some of you will find this information useful.

Competition is stiff in the publishing world. (Unless you go with a publisher that isn't too particular about what they publish, or if you go the self-publishing route. But that's a post for another time.) You can follow plot and point-of-view rules, polish and re-polish your manuscript until there are no grammatical errors or typos, yet still get rejection after rejection. What gives? It's the finer points of writing--things like voice and pacing--that may determine if your book will ever be published.

First, you need to snag your reader with the first line. And the first three pages or so are critical in holding the reader's attention. And, after all, editors are readers. So make sure you open with something that will make the reader curious and want to find out more.

Second, make sure you use active voice--meaning action verbs. It's amazing how many times I find myself lapsing into passive voice as I write. Instead of writing "He stared into her eyes" it comes out "He was staring into her eyes." Weak, weak, weak!

Third, you want to add sensory details so the reader feels this world you've created. If your character is poor and a bike is his only mode of transportation, even in the winter time, show your reader how his hands are frozen to the handlebars, or how his warm breath steams in the chilled air.

Fourth, stay away from well-worn cliches. Come up with new, fresh ways of describing things.

If you pay attention to the finer points of writing, you'll give your fiction the creative edge it needs to impress a editor enough to say, "Give me more!"

Who Pays?

2007-09-28T08:25:00.000-07:00

Note: Because we're revamping this blog a bit, I don't yet know what I'm going to do with my Fridays. I might post book recommendations, or who knows? So until I've decided, I'm going to copy my Friday posts from my own blog. Since I usually post about genre-related stuff, I don't think you'll be bored. Forgive me, but I promise I'll come up with something clever soon.

So reading this article on Gawker got me thinking.

The article, for those who don't want to or don't have time to click and read it, is about "going Dutch" on dates. Specifically the first few dates. And whether it's okay for a man to expect a woman to pay for her own dinner on a first date. And whether women should expect to have their meals paid for. And if it's about men being cheap or women being empowered. Or whatever.

I haven't dated in some time, and when I did...well, frankly, I pretty much never did. Not your typical dinner date, anyway. I'd usually hung around with a guy for some time before we really went out together. Or we'd already kissed, or whatever, and so were dating. Usually we were both so poor that whoever had money would pay. But we were also barely in our twenties and spent most of our available cash on beer.

But even then, if it was a date-type evening, I never considered paying. When my boyfriend would say he wanted us to go out to eat, we both took it for granted he would pay. When we just decided to go out on the spur of the moment we'd go dutch, but a "date"--he paid. (Unless I took him out for his birthday or something.)

All of my heroes in my books pay. For everything. This has a lot to do with them being richer than Croesus, but I admit, it's also because I think the man should pay, at least in the beginning. He's the one doing the inviting*, he's the one doing the seducing, so he pays.

And the way he asks always indicates he's paying, too. Not "Why don't we go out to eat?" but "Let me take you out to dinner" or "Come on, I'll buy you dinner." And my heroines don't argue with that. Sometimes they may think about not turning down a free dinner, but, oddly, power struggles in the relationships of my characters are never financial (I say "oddly" because it's only just occured to me). Not one of my heroines feels she's less independent and strong if she lets the man pay. They make it very clear that he's buying dinner, not her body, (not stridently; the topic is never discussed, it's just clear) and that they expect to be treated and spoken to a certain way and that's that.

Perhaps it's because my heroes, however criminal their other activities may be or no matter how coldly they may order the deaths of their enemies, are gentlemen.

Or perhaps I'm a totally clueless dinosaur and should be shot for betraying womankind.

What do you think?

(*the person who does the inviting should pay. This is the only exception to the "men should pay" rule. But then, I don't believe women should ask men out, either, and the reason is because if a man's not man enough to take a chance and ask you for a date, maybe he's not man enough period. I've asked a few guys out over the course of my life, and it's never worked out. It sets a precedent, I think, where you're the pursuer and he gets to sit back and let you do it. It makes them overconfident.)

WHORING MYSELF AROUND THE INTERNET:

I'm over at The Book Bitches guest bitching about Jackie Collins, come on by and say hi! The Bitches are awesome fun, and they did a little interview with me as well (below the first post).

I did an interview at Rachel Carrington's blog about my Publishing series, so check that one out too!

Brand new release and new feature next Thursday!

2007-09-27T18:35:00.000-07:00

Hi guys! YAY! Another Devarian story has just hit the cyber-stands, so I thought I'd bring you an excerpt today. And next Thursday, I hope you'll join me for the first Sierra's Story Hour -- every week, I'll be posting an installment of a new short story, and when it's done, I'll post the whole thing on my free stories page at sierradafoe.com and start another!

For today -- hot off the presses from Changeling Press:

Devarian Renegades
by Sierra Dafoe

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=682

Captain Merrin Trafalgar’s life is going to pieces. Recalled from space on the verge of discovering a new planet, she’s immured instead on a backwater planet, guarding gelded work-slaves in the wheat fields of Harth. The one thing she has to look forward to is being reunited with her two pleasure-slaves. But in her absence they’ve fallen in love -- with each other! Even worse, Merrin finds herself drawn to the handsome, enigmatic Rolen -- but how can a gelded work-slave rouse such longing in her?

When Rolen reveals his secret, Merrin knows there’s only one answer for her and her forbidden lover -- go renegade!

Excerpt

Rolen walked silently beside her, his hand occasionally touching the small of her back as he guided her along the darker stretches of the path. The night must have grown cooler, because Merrin was intensely aware of his touch even through the thin fabric of her uniform, of the warmth of his fingers and the breadth of his hard, work-callused palm. It felt so different compared to when Stevan touched her, or Amur…

“You won’t… you won’t tell anyone about this, Rolen, will you?” Glancing sidelong at his stern profile, Merrin saw him grimace.

“Of course not. Everyone has secrets, my lady.”

And what secrets would a work-slave have? Merrin wondered. But she couldn’t bring herself to ask. It would be violating, somehow, what he’d given her.

They walked in silence for a bit. Then Rolen asked, “May I ask you something in return?” Merrin hesitated, then nodded. “What is your name?”

She let out a small, surprised laugh. “Merrin. Captain Merrin Trafalgar.”

“Merrin.” He said the word as if memorizing it, storing it away somewhere behind those black eyes. “Thank you, my lady.” A moment later, he murmured, “They must trust you immensely. I can almost see why.”

“They?” Then she realized he was speaking of Stevan and Amur. “What does trust have to do with it? They’re pleasure-slaves.”

The glance Rolen gave her was almost pitying. “How much simpler would it have been to lie to you? To hide what they felt for each other? Simpler… and safer. They must have been terrified you’d separate them, sell off one to punish the other.”

Merrin opened her mouth to protest -- but the memory of Amur clinging to her with an almost desperate fierceness as Stevan told her, Believe me, there is no one to whom I’d rather belong, cut short her words.

Rolen was right. That was exactly what they’d been afraid of. “What do you think I should do, then?”

In response, Rolen grabbed her arm and dragged her to him, his mouth covering hers with an urgency that left her breathless. His kiss was wholly inexpert -- rough and abrupt -- yet the hunger in it, as he crushed his lips down upon hers, set her head reeling. His spicy, musky scent filled her nostrils, banishing rational thought so thoroughly that when his tongue prodded lightly against her closed lips, she moaned and parted them.

Hesitantly at first, then with more assurance, his tongue plunged into the wetness of her mouth -- tasting her, exploring her, devouring her.

His huge, work-hardened arms clamped around her, pressing her to his chest. She could feel the thunder of his heartbeat beneath the sturdy ribs, the firm swell of his pecs…

Merrin trembled, feeling desire rake her from her scalp to the very tips of her toes. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Her cunt was on fire, desperate for a connection they could never have.

Just as suddenly as he’d seized her, Rolen turned her loose, and Merrin staggered, crying out in shock. For one second he stared down at her, his massive chest heaving, his eyes, black and wild, burning down into hers. The thin moonlight filtering through the leaves above etched his face, revealing a shocked vulnerability that pierced Merrin to the quick.

Then he stepped back into the darkness, becoming nothing more than a shadow against the shadows of the trees. “Forgive them, my lady. Nobody chooses who they will love.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=682

Wild Wednesday Number One!

2007-09-26T19:00:00.000-07:00

It's time to get....WILD!!! That's right, from now on, Wednesday's on the Deliciously Naughty blog will be Wild Wednesday's. You can look forward to hot man meat, sexy excerpts, maybe a little flash fiction of the naughty variety, and more.

So I hope you'll join me here every hump day for a little naughty fun.

This is an old man meat blog of mine, but it seemed like the perfect thing to get my Wild Wednesday blogging off to a rousing start with LOTS of yummy manliness.

Enjoy!!

Anna J. Evans
http://annajevans.com
fan the flames...

"Are you looking at me? Are you checking out my manliness? I challenge you with my eyes and clenched eight-pack...go ahead, make fun of the bandana tied around my wrist....I DARE you."

"Yes, I'm also manly....what are you going to do about it? Yes my manly nipples are hard...the water is cold...do you have a problem with that?"

"I'm too manly for my hoodie, too manly for my hoodie, too manly also for my dog tag."

"Manly men can not be tied with string, you must use rope, fool! Soon I will pull free and give a taste of a manly ass-whooping unlike anything the world has ever known."

"Hell yeeeaaasss, I'm manly. See how I stick out there all proud like? So I got some kind of burlap sock tar baby lookin' thing on there. So what? You know you still want me to rope ya little filly."

Wow, a lot of attitude in the man meat today....let's mix it up a bit...

"I too am manly...manly and deep and contemplative, manly and intergalactic. I see the chaos of the universe and want to weep, but instead I clench my abs and call for my captain...oh captain...."

"I'm not compensating for anything. I need a big sword because I have a lot of heads to chop off. And that's sweat, not baby oil. I. Swear. To. God."

(Oh my god, I love the Rock...I really do. There's something weirdly hot about a guy whos bicep is bigger around than my waist. Or am I psychotic?)

"Come on baby, run your hands through my mullet and kiss your way down my hair-shirt. If it gets stuck in your teeth, well...it just might be the dental floss nature intended."

Man meat a' la mode with fresh berries. Truly a manly treat.

When I Knew

2007-09-24T05:37:00.000-07:00

People often ask "When did you know you wanted to be a writer?"

I don't know that I can actually pinpoint a specific time or place. My first experience as a writer was in sixth grade. Our teacher would give us an opening line and have us write a short story. Most of mine were fantastical and I seem to remember they ended something like "But it was only a dream." LOL I've improved since then, thankfully.

I really didn't do any more fiction writing until around 1998. And that was partly because someone told me I couldn't. Oh, not me specifically, but people in my profession. So I set out to prove her wrong.

And I did. But it wasn't until about 2005 that I seriously started thinking about doing this for a living. Being a writer, I mean. And I'm on my way. Nowhere near being able to support myself yet, but that'll come. I hope.

What would I be Doing?

2007-09-21T09:59:00.000-07:00

Hmm. Ideally I'd be married to a millionaire, sitting on our yacht sipping cocktails.

Other than that? Maybe a carpenter.

I'd actually really like to be a carpenter. I see them and I'm jealous. I'd love to be able to work with my hands like that, to make things, really make them from raw materials. I'd love to be able to use big tools. I'd love to hammer things. (When I got my first apartment I made a special trip to buy a hammer, and I felt so cool and grown up and womanly. I owned a hammer! I could hammer things. It was a special moment.)

Because my Dad and brother are big gearheads, being a mechanic always hovered in the background for me too. I like cars. I'd like to know how they work, how to fix them. They're like little mysteries, and who can resist a mystery?

I guess what all those jobs have in common is they're all about fixing and creating. And tools. Which writing erotic romance and urban fantasy incorporates pretty smoothly. :-)

Hey Mom, I wanna write smut!

2007-09-20T11:52:00.000-07:00

Y'know, I'm just thinking about that this morning -- it's a strange career choice, being an erotic romance writer. It's incredibly long hours for not much pay, especially at the beginning. It's the sort of thing that's sometimes awkward to talk about in mixed company (I'm picturing my poor mom introducing me to her friends.... "And here's my daughter -- she writes sex scenes for a living." LOL!)

Poor mom. Writer was always on the agenda, although it was supposed to come after my brilliant film career, if I remember right. And the single largest hurdle I always faced to writing professionally was choosing a genre.

You see, I love it all. I am a major fantasy addict. I love sci-fi -- Heinlein, Niven, Philip K. Dick. Historical fantasy? Mary Stewart? Mary Renault? (why didn't my mother name me Mary, dang it!?) Morgan Llwewllyn? OH man! I am so all over that! And contemporary, humorous, quietly caustic stuff... Well, I finally got to go there a little with the Shifter Sisters. Swashbuckling adventures, high rolling seas, dashing pirates -- and dragons and mighty quests and magic swords (nope, noooo pun intended there!) The far-off, the fantastic, and the occasional foray into the domestic and familiar... There is, I have no hesitation in saying, only one genre of literature that allows me all that. Plus it's got sex, too -- how can you possibly beat that?

Hey Mom! I'm gonna be an erotic romance writer!

She'll recover, some day... LOL!

-- Sierra

www.sierradafoe.com -- new site redesign in the works!

One lucky bastardess

2007-09-19T04:46:00.001-07:00

That's what I am. I have three jobs and I wouldn't trade any of them in for something better. There's nothing in the world I'd rather do than what I'm doing. Writing books has been something I wanted to do since I was seven years old and the fact that I actually got to see that childhood wish come true is just...a blessing. (Sorry had to get a little corny there for a second.)

My second job is as a freelance photographer for our state's paper. I've only been working this one for about a month, but I'm LOVING it! Photography is by far my favorite hobby and to see a hobby start to bring in some money and additional opportunities for tax deduction, well, there ain't much better than that. And I get to go cool places and meet interesting people and have a good excuse to get up in their faces and snap away. Awesomse stuff (and a good excuse to ask for a camera upgrade for Christmas I do believe, lol!)

And my third job, which I couldn't decide to talk about first, or save until last. Those three up there on the bottom bunk. Helping raise these kids is by far my hardest and most time consuming job, but also the most rewarding. Until I had Roo, I had no idea I was capable of such fierce, fantastic love. And until I started helping raise the girls, I had no idea I was capable of loving kids that weren't 'mine' biologically in that same all-consuming way. But now, I don't know what I'd do if we lost one of them or they decided to go live with their other parent instead of me and the hubs. I love them so much, and am willing to do whatever it takes to see all three grow into strong, confident, loving grown-ups who are as well-equipped for life as I can help make them in my job as 'mom'.

Sniff! Talking about that third job always gets me choked up. Speaking of, gotta go wake those kids up.

Happy Wednesday all,

Anna J. Evans
http://annajevans.com

What would I be doing?

2007-09-18T19:15:00.000-07:00

For once, an easy question! My day career, librarianship, is my second love. No, I don't get to read books all day. The particular job I'm in right now isn't a job I ever expected to have when I started out being a librarian, but it's very fulfilling. My dream librarian job is to be the manager of a popular fiction/materials collection where I can at least *talk* about books and movies and music all day. I truly have a deep love for the entertainment factor of reading and I can't imagine working in any other fields besides librarianship and writing. Being a librarian is a *lot* more than books, but that's a lecture for another day ;)

What I Do To Pay The Bills

2007-09-17T06:03:00.000-07:00

I know I've talked about this before and folks are probably getting tired of hearing me piss and moan about it. LOL But here goes...

For over 20 years I've been in the Human Resources field in one aspect or another. I started out as a receptionist for a personnel recruiting firm, worked my way up to Office Manager/Interviewer. From there I went to a large home health care company where I was recruited nursing and non-nursing staff, and ended my tenure there as a generalist providing overall HR support to two of their divisions. Then I went on to a cable company as Risk Administrator, where I handled Workers' Compensation, General Liability and Vehicle Liability and leaves of absences for employees. In 2000 I decided I'd had enough of Ohio and moved to Arizona, where after 3 weeks of being unemployed I took a job with a credit union as their benefits person. After a year and a half I was promoted to Assistant Vice President. When I left there after 5 years, I had been Vice President of Human Resources for 3 1/2 years.

Then I took 11 months off and wrote, wrote, wrote. At the end of July 2006 I had to go back to work. I started with my current company as a part-time HR Assistant and, in December, went full-time as their HR Administrator. I'm back to being a generalist, doing just about everything that needs to be done that's personnel related.

Beginning today, I'm cutting back my hours to 30 hours a week, and I hope those extra 10 hours will be put to productive use. My dream is to be able to support myself with my writing--it seems there aren't a lot of authors who can do that. But my needs are simple LOL. I'd be willing to live on popcorn and green beans if I had to...

2007-09-14T11:04:00.000-07:00

I remember the first time I picked up one of my Mom's romance novels and read a bit of it. Unfortunately I don't remember the title, or the characters. All I remember is one line:

"...Previously, she'd been a virgin in both passages..."

I had NO idea what that meant. I vaguely recall something about the hero flipping the heroine over before that line, but I still had absolutely no idea what it meant. I remember puzzling about it in the creek behind my house. At least, I puzzled on it until a big dog came along and scared me and I ran away. I'm not joking. He was (I now know) a Great Dane. It's a very clear memory.

But the first one I really remember reading, cover to cover, was "Romancing the Stone" by Catherine Lanigan writing as, of course, Joan Wilder.

I grabbed it because I'd loved the movie. Boy was I stunned. There's a sex scene like two chapters into it! And another fully detailed one later, where Joan and Jack finally get together.

I was eleven or twelve, and I was frankly shocked. And really intrigued. I must have read those scenes dozens of times, glancing around frantically so no one would see--I'd love to find a copy of the book now to see if they're as explicit as my recollection. (Not too much later I happened across a copy of "My Secret Garden", Nancy Friday's landmark collection of women's sexual fantasies. THAT scorched my eyeballs. WOW. I've actually been tempted to pick up another copy of that one too, to see if it's as hot as I remember. It probably is.)

I wanted to intrigue people like that. I wanted them to not be able to tear their eyes away from the page. I wanted to write exciting, sexy stories about people doing exciting, sexy things.

I wanted to write romance, so I could fit it all in.

The magic bookshelf

2007-09-13T16:48:00.000-07:00

I wish I still had it. It was in my room as long as I can remember -- a positively enormous bookcase (especially from the perspective of 6), it was a good six feet tall, almost five wide, painted a robin's egg blue. (Actually I have a vague memory of a time when it was brown, but I'm not sure how accurate that is...) Forget C.S. Lewis's wardrobe (although that and many other marvels were contained in its shelves) -- my bookcase took me to Narnia, Prydain, ancient Greece, Persia, Middle Earth, the Middle Ages, down rabbit holes and under mountains. For starters.

For a basically outgoing kid, I spent an enormous percentage of my life with a book in my hands. Even now, crawling inside a book is still one of my absolute favorite activities. Forget TV. Movies? Wellll, okay, there's some I love almost as much as my favorite books. But even now I just have to close my eyes and...

Prydain. The Chronicles of Prydain. Taran and Eilonwy and Gurgi -- who remembers Gurgi? And of course the oracular pig, Hen Wen. They were for me what I think the Harry Potter books are proving to be for a lot of kids now -- my first introduction to epic fantasy. And the lessons are very much the same-- responsibility. Self-reliance. Learning to make your own choices and abide by the consequences -- okay, Harry's had it rather easy on the score as opposed to Taran. Interestingly enough, they both were orphans.

I can definitely say that Lloyd Alexander permanently stamped the outlines of what I think a great story is somewhere very deep in my mind. And that bookshelf, that wonderful, magical bookshelf, gave me such a breadth of worlds to travel.

Y'know, come to think of it, what else could my mom have possibly expected me to grow up into, putting a big blue beastie like that in my room? :-)

Thanks, Mom.

-- Sierra

sierradafoe.com

A Primer in Romance

2007-09-12T04:46:00.000-07:00

So many books, so little time to blog, but here are some highlights from my road to romance reading and writing! My very first book with romantic elements was "Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott. I read it for the first time at age seven and then reread several times after. When I was a little shit, I didn't understand that Jo and Laurie wouldn't have been good together, however, and would mourn his marriage to Amy every time. (Dumb! Now I know better, lol. Who would want to be married to Laurie?)

"Anne of Green Gables", the entire series, still one of my favorite romances, though I stop after she and Gilbert get together because Anne gets kind of bitchy in the later books. Probably all the children...says the woman with three, lol!

Kelly totally stole this one from me yesterday (biznatch!!!, lol), but I have to mention it anyway. Another one of my early favorites. Probably too early. My mom let me read anything I could get my hands on as long as it was in the children's section or considered a 'classic' or 'award winning' books. I'd read a LOT of interesting things by the time I was ten.

What she wouldn't let me read, however, were HER romances. But I read them anyway :). I would sneak them out from the pile beneath her bed and hide them in my room until I'd finished. I read "Knight in Shining Armor" when I was probably....eleven? I still think it is one of the BEST romances ever. (Haven't read it in a while, but still...it just rocks, the heroine goes back in time, lots of adventure, a very compelling read!) My early exposure to 1980's romance is probably responsible for my taste for writing erotic romance. I mean, once you've grown a taste for ripped bodices, you never go back right? Lol.

Happy Wednesday!

Anna J. Evans

http://annajevans.com

Most influential book/s

2007-09-11T07:00:00.000-07:00

My life has always been full of books since I was a baby. My dad is a *huge* pleasure reader. It's hard for me to think of one book that's had the most influence on me. The book I remember most from when I was a wee child is "One Fish, Two Fist, Red Fish, Blue Fish" by Dr. Seuss. The next book I remember marking a milestone for me was "Bunnicula" by Deborah and James Howe because it was the first book I read which was around 100 pages (99). After that, "The Witch of Blackbird Pond" by Elizabeth George Speare really struck a chord. I think it's probably the first time I read a book and realized the part of the plot I liked best was the development of the relationship between Kit and Nat. A couple of years later, I read "Strictly Business" by Leigh Michaels, my first "adult" romance. It's been downhill ever since :)

One of My Favorite Books From Childhood

2007-09-10T05:42:00.000-07:00

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle.

I absolutely loved this book. It had a female protagonist who was awkward, unsociable and uncomfortable with her looks. Just like me at that age. Meg Murray had tremendous untapped potential but felt overshadowed by her brilliant and beautiful mother. Her greatest strength was the love of her family, especially her little brother Charles Wallace.

Meg, Charles Wallace and a boy from Meg's school (and her later love interest)--Calvin O'Keefe--meet up with Mrs. Whatsit, a celestial creature who looks more like a tramp. She and her friends Mrs. Who and Mrs. Which take the children to find Meg and Charles Wallace's father, who's captive on another planet. Along the way they must fight a great evil and meet alien creatures that are amazing and wonderful.

A Wrinkle in Time is about the battle between good and evil and the ultimate triumph of love. This book is followed by A Wind in the Door and A Swiftly Tilting Planet. But I think Wrinkle is still my favorite, because it introduced me to that awkward girl who was so much like me, and was my introduction to fantasy/sci fi.

Have you read these books? If so, what did you think of them? If not, what's one of your favorite childhood books?

If I knew then...

2007-09-07T07:55:00.000-07:00

Oh boy.

One the one hand, a ton of stuff runs through my mind, everything from "I wish I knew then just how hard this was" to "I wish I knew that idea I had was a good one" to "I wish I knew how distracting children really are!"

On the other? Not much.

Because it's a learning process. Every word, every sentence, every page and chapter and book teach you something different. I'm a far, far better writer now than I was when I started four years ago. Hopefully I will be a far, far better writer four years from now.

I wish I'd known that finishing a book is itself an acheivement (hell, I wish I could remember that now.)

I wish I'd known that first books are rarely any good, so maybe those first few rejections wouldn't have been so hard.

I wish I'd known a LOT more about passive voice. "She felt" "he felt"--all fine in moderation, and sometimes there's no other way to say it, but boy, my first couple of mss were riddled with that junk. "She felt her hands clench". "She felt his hand close around hers." "She felt like she had to speak."

Sometimes those distancing words are necessary. Sometimes characters need to remove themselves from action. But sheesh, my characters did so much feeling and thinking hardly anything else happened. Instead of "she felt her hands clenched", just say "Her hands clenched." Or, better, "Her fingernails dug into her palms."

I wish I'd known about certain cliches: the Evil Ex, the Obvious Villain, the Frightened Virgin. All of which are stll useful, and can work very well. But the first ms wasn't the place where any of those worked for me.

Writing is about constantly improving. You know more than you think you do now. You'll know even more tomorrow.

Doing it the hard way

2007-09-06T07:12:00.000-07:00

Yup. That's me. First object lesson of the day: never sign contracts for five releases in four months, LOL! If you've been wondering where I've been, now you know :p

Actually, pushing yourself to the limit is one thing I don't consider a mistake. I couldn't do it all the time, but it's a great way to flex your muscles and really go for it every once in a while. But a little breathing room would be nice, here (no one to blame but yourself, Sie!)

Actually, in light of recent events, there's a few things I've learned over the past year and a half that I'd like to share. The first one is: don't put all your eggs in one basket.

I have to start by saying I love Changeling. They're a great house to work for -- fun, professional, very supportive. And the checks come on time. Every month. Like clockwork. And I can shout to my editor when I'm having a problem. Hell, I can shout to the owner and she responds -- fast. In fact, I don't think I could have picked a better first publishing house, although I think there are some that are just as good.

Bit what if, God forbid, Changeling had gone belly up? Now, they happen to be a very solid and well-run company, with owners that have a lot of experience in running their own business. But disasters can happen to anyone, any time, and in the microcosm of e-publishing, the absence or illness of two or three key people could, in fact, bring an entire company to a grinding halt.

What if it had? Where would that leave me, with fifteen titles currently at Changeling -- and none anywhere else?

Screwed, that's where.

Another thing I finally figured out is that perhaps the single fastest way to increase your readership is to publish at more than one house. Each house has its own avid followers -- yes, some of them buy from a lot of different houses (and there's a lot of great houses out there to choose from!), but many of them don't. If a reader buys, say, only Ellora's Cave books, how is she ever going to discover you? So give her a chance to. It's not only smart marketing, it's also the best hedge you can have against the uncertainties of the e-publishing business.

That's assuming, of course, that you've done the smart thing and researched the houses you're submitting to. I did. I generated a list of five publishers I was interested in. And after a year and more of watching the industry, ya know what? That list hasn't changed.

Not that I'll likely submit to all of them! Although you know me; never say never... But writing for two or three makes a lot more sense than writing for just one -- even when that one is as well-run and reliable as Changeling is.

So expand your options. Take a hard look at the marketplace and research your targets. How long have they been around? How solid are their business practices? How enthusiastic are their authors, and are they authors who have gone on to have successful careers, win awards, break into print? There's a wonderful series of posts on evaluating e-publishers, and interviews with editors from some fantastic houses on December Quinn's blog -- check 'em out!

Them's my words of wisdom for the day, and I've still got those dang contracts hanging over my head! So, until next week --

Happy reading!

-- Sierra

sierradafoe.com

The Shortlist....

2007-09-05T04:37:00.000-07:00

Cause I still don't feel I've learned that much, though I know I'm practically an expert compared to the newbie I was when I attended my first RWA National Conference back in 2005. Okay, here it comes, what I've learned in my first nearly three years as a full time fiction writer:

1. Don't be afraid to bend some rules. Sometimes this will help you make friends and influence people and get your story looked at 5-6 months ahead of the other people in line.

2. Be careful about bending the rules. Sometimes this will get you on someone's shitlist, no matter how nice you try to be. If you're lucky, however, the person who didn't like your rule-bending will go apeshit crazy and bankrupt their publishing company. (Not naming any names here, but...yeah...)

3. Ditto what Kelly said about editing and *that*. I still battle that, that damned that!

4. Don't give up. If ten people say your manuscript sucks but you still honestly believe it to be solid, send it out again. This is how I finally landed my agent.....of course, we've yet to see if that book will sell, lol, but I have great hopes.

5. Keep your mind on the process, the writing, not on the finish line. Sure we all want to be best-selling authors--though just making a living wage would rock the kasbah in my book--but concentrating on that goal isn't the way to be a happy writer. Try to enjoy the day to day grind of pumping out those words, getting through your edits, and perfecting your craft. The rest of it, I believe, will come if its going to come. If you're stars are aligned and all that because...see #6

6. The best woman/man/writer doesn't always win. There's an element of luck in this writing game as there is every career. And there's also a hell of a lot of subjectivity and competition which makes it even harder to break out, get noticed, etc. That why you need #5 to keep you grounded and fight off any defeated feelings that may arise.

7. Getting an email from someone who's actually paid for and read your books and enjoyed them is one of the best feelings in the world. Better than any professional review (thought those are nice too :)).

I'm sure I could go on, but I've got kids to wake up and words to make--see #5.

Happy Wednesday!

Anna J. Evans

http://annajevans.com

What I wish I knew then

2007-09-04T22:10:00.000-07:00

I look at writing as a continual learning process. It's hard to imagine what steps I could have just skipped over as how I write now has been built on what I've learned over the years. Here are some things I wish hadn't been such "duh" moments for me:

"Was" is not an evil word.

All things in moderation, especially "was".

"That", when writing, is as bad as "uh" when speaking.

You will *always* have to edit *something*.

Someone, somewhere, some time, will rip you a new one over what you wrote.

Someone, somewhere, some time, will adore what caused the other person to rip you a new one.

Life happens. Roll with it.

It helps to be disciplined, but if you aren't, you can still be dedicated.

Keep that first manuscript around to prove you can write a novel.

Do your best to finish for the day at a point where you know exactly what's going to happen next. Write yourself a note if you have to.

Write in good health!

*EDIT: Yes, I reviewed this post and read it out loud before I submitted it and yet, I still dropped a word. See, something else to add to the list: sometimes things will fall through the cracks despite your best efforts.

What I Wish I'd Known Then

2007-09-03T07:05:00.000-07:00

So, here's our topic for the week. "What we've learned about writing, and what we wished we'd known when we started."

Well, you know they say hindsight is 20/20.

They're probably right. "They" sometimes are.

And, so, the million-dollar question.

What do I wish I'd known when I started? I'm happy to say my experiences--so far--have been quite positive. I haven't been caught up with publishers who seem to be going along fine but then start not answering author emails, not paying authors, etc. And I don't know that it was anything but blind stupid luck on my part.

Seriously. Well, all right. When I first started reading erotic romances (all on ebook, to begin with), I checked out several companies. I bought from several companies. And when I decided to try my hand at writing erotic romance, I looked at the publishers I'd been buying from. There were a couple that I hadn't been impressed with--either I felt their covers were cheesy or the books were riddled with errors. (With one book, by the fourth page I was so busy being distracted by errors that I completely stopped reading the story.)

I do wish I'd not spent as much time on shorter stories. Although they were excellent learning experiences, I sometimes feel I wasted time. I could have been focusing on much longer works.

Ah, well. Lesson learned, right?

Happy Labor Day to our American readers!

Anna gives great blog!

2007-08-30T10:02:00.000-07:00

Okay, so that's my really cheesy way of admitting I'm not too together on the blog thing today -- but she does! :-)

A day in the life? Hah! It's the end of summer crunch right now and I can barely remember today, let alone whatever a "usual" day looks like. I've got one book that has to be in before I run away for the weekend, three more I've got to get finished up by the end of September -- and a project I'd really like to squeeze in if I can find the time... Plus, because I'm nuts like that, I'm currently in the middle of a major site overhaul -- two a.m. this morning I finally got the damn drop-down menu working (thank you Fiona!) -- you should see my desk. There are, at rough estimate, forty-seven different-sized pieces of paper with notes, comments to myself, things I have to remember to do.... Every couple of hours I go through 'em, wad a few up, and chuck them in the vague direction of the trash can.

Oh yeah, and it's a release day :-)

Actually, even when they're as madcap as this one, release days are what make it all worthwhile -- another story out, done, published, and ready to be enjoyed. There is nothing like the feeling of getting a note from a reader, or getting the opportunity (which I have a couple of times) to watch somebody read your stuff, listen to them chuckle to themselves or even laugh out loud... That's the best. Well, that and being able to pay the electric/mortgage/car insurance/internet/groceries... Yeah, this is how I buy my shampoo. God, I miss Pantene!

Hopefully one day Pantene will be an option again. In the meantime, I am madly trying to keep up at the best job in the world, my wrists ache, my eyes are blurry, my dog is starving for attention... but there's another story almost done, and another after that just waiting to be told, and a shiny new website that really will be done eventually!

This is Sierra, signing off -- see you in September!

Just released! Shifter Sisters 3: Stray Cat Strut! Persia finally gets her story -- and her man!

Suburbarific-mom-writerness

2007-08-29T05:02:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this post is stolen from a Thursday 13 I did awhile back but it totally captures a 'day in the life' of this gal. The only thing I forgot to mention is that I somehow manage to squeeze in about 2,000 words per day in here somewhere. Usually during the happy breakfast, lunch, and times when the child will take his dang nap.

Happy Wednesday all!

Anna J. Evans
http://annajevans.com

1. Happy Breakfast, accompanied by commentary on Sesame Street. I never have to worry what the Roo is thinking about, he's very comfortable sharing his entire inner monologue...

2. On the way up the stairs to 'see the babies'...mama's going to go sweat in the basement with the firemen. Yeah, they're kind of cute, but dumb as dirt as twice as loud...which isn't hard to do since dirt doesn't make noise...but whatever. Hard to relax with a bunch of doofus fireman watching to see if your shorts ride up while you're doing the squat machine. The one time of the day I get to be without a Roo on me/talking to me/fretting with me and they ruin it. Think I may have to add them to my 'dead to me' sidebar.

3. All done seeing the babies, we have to stop and look at our shadow a few times on the way out to mama's van because shadows are cool.

4. Back at the hissy, the purple turtle must be played with and sand thrown in hair. At least he kept it on himself this time, which is good since mama will use any excuse to avoid washing her hair. This whole 'long hair' thing the hubs likes is annoying. I liked it short and easy to scrunch and go.

5. The plant that I can't keep alive. I can't grow children and plants at the same time...hey, we all have our limitations...

6. Roo riding his blue teeter-totter...and some more empy pots behind him. My mother gives them to me for mother's day...like some kind of hint to spruce up my ugly yard or something....whatever, I figure she doesn't want her grandson or step-grandaughters dead so I don't invest any energy into putting things in those pots or trying to keep them alive. I've got my priorities straight. Kids before plants yo. (Kind of like bros before hos....)

7. The whale pool. I almost passed out after blowing it up. My lips buzzed for half an hour afterward, but the Roo had great fun and I got to finish my book in between throwing ducks and balls at him.

8. Into the house for some yummy sausage lunch (yuck, that stuff smells like dog shit), before going back out to the whale pool because the whale pool rocks. Mama agrees as she's now starting another book. Can't take the computer out there or mama might have found a way to squeeze some writing in...

9. In from the whale pool, and all bathed and dressed and out on the town getting a Care Bears movie (Big Wish, he had grown tired of Journey to Jokealot). Mama of course forgot her purse so we drove all the way there, and all the way back twice, thusly wasting even more time before nap, making mama POSITIVE Roo was going to go down easy on this particular day. It was almost 2:30 after all, and the dude was TIRED.

10. Birth Control aka Roo pre-nap....howling in protest to the injustice of being forced to rest...

11. Mama takes a shower and considers doing damage to herself with the eyelash curler because the Roo. is. still. screaming. 1/2. hour. later....

12. But he finally sleeps for an hour and a half, I bang out about 1200 words that probably suck because I'm so out of the groove and when he wakes up we get some letters ready to go to big'un at camp. Roo helps by opening all the cabinets and pulling out the pots and pans. I finally lose it and use big scary voice. He stops and cries. We kiss and make up and go to the post office.

13. It's 4:30, only an hour before the hubs gets home and I might be able to escape to use the bathroom by myself. As we're driving home I spot the three crosses on the hill and take a picture to remind myself about little baby Jesus in his fleece diaper....and I begin to wonder...what would baby Jesus do?

Baby Jesus would make mojitos...and tell me to drink them and be well...and so I did.

Normal? What's normal?

2007-08-28T16:56:00.000-07:00

This week's theme of "A Day in the Life" is kind of hard to wrap my head around. I don't really have a typical day because my work schedule is always under threat of being changed at the last minute. I truly enjoy my day job, though, so it's not such a hardship. I have managed a few ideal days in the last few weeks, however.

My ideal schedule:
- Crawl out of bed with enough time to dress, eat breakfast and brush my teeth before I have to be at work.
- Work at the day job for about four hours.
- Come home for my lunch hour to eat and work on non-day job/other profession or writing-related, but not actually writing, projects.
- Go back to work for about another four hours.
- Come home and unwind by knitting, reading, watching tv, etc., eat dinner.
- Around 9p (if not a little earlier), hunker down to write for about an hour. If I'm on a roll, I can usually crank out between 600-1000 words in this time. To give you an idea, The Man from H.A.T.H.O.R. is about 13,000 words.

That's when I'm in writing mode. Now, for instance, I'm in editing mode. I've also got some non-day job/other profession projects breathing down my neck, so my "unwind" time is really more "what work can I cram in here?" time. My schedule is pretty wacky, but it works for me :)

Oh, The Glamour Of It All

2007-08-27T05:53:00.000-07:00

So many times, readers and non-writers want to know what a typical day in the life of an author is like. Now, I don't know about Nora Roberts or Stephen King (but I imagine most days they're at the keyboard at least 7-8 hours, just like a "real" job), but my life isn't exactly glamorous, no matter which day you look at.

But I do try to write at least a little bit every day, with my most productive days being the weekend because that's when I have more time. During the week I have to devote 40 hours (well, 45 including travel to and from) to my day job. And I have found that if I haven't started writing by 6:30 or 7:00 p.m. at the latest, it ain't gonna happen that day. So, if I'm being good and not goofing off, here's what a normal weekday looks like for me:

5:00 a.m. Wake up to the soothing sounds of Celtic harp music. (I have accidentally set my alarm on "alarm" instead of "music" before, and I about have a heart attack when the alarm goes off. I do much better with soothing music. LOL)

5:00-5:30 a.m. Check emails, post blog, hit a couple of readers groups if I have time.

5:30-6:00 a.m. Treadmill. Or not.

6:00-7:00 a.m. Get ready for work. And, yes, it generally takes me an hour.

7:00-7:20 a.m. Put my food together for the day, turn off the laptop, and leave for work.

8:00 a.m.-5:00 p.m. Work. Phfffft.

5:45 p.m. Arrive home. Get in comfy clothes, read my snail mail and relax for about half an hour. Check emails and try to figure out what I want for supper.

6:15-7:00 p.m. Fix and eat dinner, usually while watching the news. (I know, it's a no-no to watch TV while you eat, but I gotta do *something*.)

7:00-9:00 p.m. Write. If I'm being good.

9:00-10:00 p.m. Wind down, get ready for bed.

10:00 p.m. Crash for the night.

There are variations to this theme, of course. Sometimes I might meet friends for dinner after work, which means I'll get no writing done at all. And sometimes at work I have an opportunity during lunch to do some writing, but not usually.

See? Not glamorous at all.

Stuck in the middle...

2007-08-24T15:19:00.000-07:00

Or really, the beginning...

I have a few projects that stalled, that I can't seem to give up on. It's hard to give up on a book anyway, because you liked it well enough to start it, but it's especially hard when you KNOW it could be such a good book but you're so swamped with other stuff you just can't seem to get there.

I have two medievals, one set in the 13th century and another in the late 15th immediately after the Battle of Bosworth. Being a Ricardian, the characters in this one are particularly close to my heart--she was a double agent working for Richard III, he was a soldier fighting for Richard who survived the battle and is blackmailing her to hide him. I'm so crazy about the characters and the story, but I just don't have time to work on it--I've had the first chapter or so written for almost two years.

I have a great idea for a paranormal I've been ruminating on and loosely planning for about a year.

I have a vampire paranormal I started a year ago that just needs a little more tweaking before I can send it in--I've been working on it on and off for months.

One day, I'll have time to write them all...sigh.

Man, I almost wish some of 'em WOULD die...

2007-08-23T20:03:00.000-07:00

LOL! Not really. But how on earth did I get myself into a situation where I have NINE stories sitting there, clamoring to be written? RIGHT NOW! Every single one of the durn things! And they ain't listening when I say "Wait your turn" -- they're worse than fifth-graders!

That said, after all these stories that really do want to be written right now because they've got somewhere in particular they want to be, I have one story that I've been hugging close to my chest for two years now. Or I should say half a story -- remember a little while ago when I talked about how I need two ideas to make a story really start clicking? And I just don't have that second idea yet. I have the main character -- a character I absolutely love, a man convicted of a crime he did commit, but ostracized by the town he lives in for the one he didn't; I have the setting; I have the supporting characters. All I'm waiting for is the spark to bring it to life.

Sometimes you wait a long time for that spark. Sometimes it never comes. In this case, I know it's a story that will take a lot of time -- more time than I've got to give it right now . But there's such passion in this man, such need, that I can't help believing it's one I have to write. It's one that I think will haunt me until I do -- and if I don't, damned if I don't expect him to be there at my deathbed, watching me out of those dark, inscrutable eyes.

All right, all right! I'm coming. Just wait for me. It's a little crowded around here at the moment. :-)

-- Sierra

sierradafoe.com

The graveyard of shattered dreams...

2007-08-22T06:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes that's how I view my WIP/unplaced file--a sad, scary place where creative things have gone to die, peppered with the ruins of once great ideas. They're still beautiful in their partially formed state but just...not ready to walk among the living. (Poetical this morning ain't I?)

Some of the manuscripts in there are full stories that need such an overhaul of an edit that I haven't gained the strength to attack them. Some are partials that So-and-so or Whoeveritwas didn't request a full for, and were thereafter abandoned in hopes of finally figuring out exactly what will light Editor X's fire. Others are flashes of great things, with catchy titles and super fantastic hooks that....I haven't had the time to flesh out.

There are probably nearly fifty such documents in my WIP file. Maybe one third of them are PTWD (Projects that won't die). Somehow, no matter how long it takes, they'll find a way to force my attention upon them, compel me to give them the work they need to become full fledged stories. One of those stories is presently my WIP. It was a partial I completed a year ago and let sit for 10 months before beginning the full. Now that little 15k partial is a 40k WIP, on it's way to an ending and a submission to my new editor at Samhain (who liked the partial :)).

So there you go, never say die little projects. Never. Say. Die.

Anna J. Evans Who. Likes. Periods. Today.

Can't get them out of my mind

2007-08-21T15:47:00.000-07:00

I have three different projects I've been working on in bits and pieces for almost two to three years. Normally, I hate talking about works in progress because I feel like talking about them jinxes the project. Considering how long I've already been working, enh.

Project #1
Short novel of historical erotica. I enjoy reading erotica from or set in the Victorian/Edwardian eras and I thought I'd try my hand at it. Lots of hawt sexual encounters have happened to and are in store for our heroine. Current status: 1/3 - 1/4 written depending on how long I actually let it go. Current plan for working on it: hope to finish it by February '08, and is officially #3 in my queue after I write a short story and review an older completed project to see if it can be whipped into shape.

Project #2
An erotic fantasy novel. Set on another world, the hero is sent on a quest to recover a kidnapped high priestess. His decreed companion: a female servant of the temple who is also pledged to the service of the god of sex, who happens to be his half-brother. Current status: First chapter and synopsis written. Current plan for working on it: maybe sometime in '08 depending on some feedback.

Project #3:
This is actually a series. Vampires, werewolves and witches in a post-apocalyptic world trying to co-exist with each other and the humans that are left. I have a short story already written in this world, but it's been proposed I lengthen it. As it's really more of a bridge story between the first story in the series and the third, I need to finish at least the first one before re-proposing it. The way the series came about is a bit offbeat as I got ideas for the first and third stories right around the same time. I didn't connect the two of them though, until I got the idea for the short story. I've been dying to finish working on this project, but I'm a little hung up on the first book. Why? Our heroine is introduced as she's murdering someone. Kind of hard to figure out why she's doing that as she's been pretty close-lipped with me. It's still simmering in my brain though. Current status: first story, 7,250 words written out of about 100K planned, bridge story complete, third story is simmering. Current plan for working on it: 2008, probably after project #1.

Projects That Won't Die

2007-08-20T05:47:00.000-07:00

I come from a long line of folks who start a project, get part-way through and lose interest, and move on to something else. So it's definitely in my nature, and I fight it constantly. One way I've found that seems to work is that I don't pick a project that's going to last a long time--like more than a couple of months.

That may be why I'm so comfortable with writing novellas instead of longer works--I can write the first draft of a novella (say, up to 30,000 words) in about a month, give or take a few days and depending on how crazy my day job is. So I get it done and move on to the next short work.

Except for...

Beyond the Beast. This is a story that's been churning in my head for several years. It first took shape as a short story (basically just a couple of scenes), and then I decided to make it longer. Last October I finished it, and submitted it to several agents. I have one interested, but she suggested several changes. So I'm working on it again.

It just won't go away. Which, I suppose, is a good thing. :)

The Idea Bank

2007-08-17T16:09:00.000-07:00

I sure wish I had one...

They come from the oddest places, really. I might overhear a snippet of conversation, and something just pops in my head. Or I might be in the shower (where most of my best ideas come to me) and suddenly there's a character, doing something interesting, and I have to figure out why they're doing it and who they are, and what the rest of the story is.

Mostly it's a bare plot idea first, not even enough to hand a scarf on much less a book. But then a character will appear, and another, and then whole scenes--usually the set pieces I talked about last week--and before I know t, there's aplot and a story ready to be told.

News articles, songs, chats with my husband, stuff I see online...I never know where one will come from, but come they do.

The hardest part is doing them justice.

It takes two, baby!

2007-08-16T09:14:00.000-07:00

Nope, I can't tell you where story ideas come from. I really have no clue -- and even less clue why some story ideas just take flight while others languish in the "maybe someday" file forever. I do know, though, that for me it really takes two ideas, two concepts that suddenly collide and make something new for a story to really click for me.

Just to say, hey, I want to write a story about a werewolf isn't enough. That's not a story idea, that's a character trait. Or, to take a better example, in the Shifter Sisters books I knew I wanted to write about a trio of friends who sometimes get along and sometimes don't, all of whom are paranormal misfits each in their own way -- one's a werewolf, one shifts into a housecat, and one's a vampire who's not exactly crazy about drinking blood. And I decided they'd be an all-girl rock group, kind of a contemporary Supremes... So there, I had my premise -- I had the first half of the story for all three books.

But what's the second half? What's the twist that makes that particular story unique? Well, with Lu,my werewolf, it became about the struggle to fit in -- a challenge we all face to one extent or another. Only with Lu, of course, the problem's a bit bigger that it is for most of us -- after all, we don't sprout fur and fangs once a month (even if it sometimes feels that way!) All of us want to be loved for who we are -- but we also have parts of ourselves we want to hide, that we're ashamed of or embarrassed by or simply insecure about. And Lu became a wonderful character through which to explore that dichotomy -- the courage it takes to really let someone else know us as we really are -- and the risk of rejection that always comes with that kind of openness.

It's funny -- I can't claim that I always know what I'm writing about when I start a story. I don't necessarily know what that second half is yet. Very often, it's in the process of working the story out that I really discover what it is I'm trying to say. But I do know, if I plunge int a story and that second half never happens, then the story invariably ends up relegated to the dustbin, waiting to grow up.

It takes two, baby -- at least for me!

-- Sierra

http://www.sierradafoe.com

Inspiration

2007-08-15T06:21:00.001-07:00

It strikes in the strangest places...if you consider the highway strange. I always get some of my best ideas while I'm driving. On our trip down to the Florida coast this past week, I had some doozies. They're still swirling around in my mind, waiting for me to write them down.

Which I will do as soon as we get back home. I'm still at the beach and the didn't sell my kids to the circus-no matter how long I left them in that gift shop, lol. So not much time to write. Have a fabulous end of your summer!

Hugs,

Anna J. Evans

Out of thin air

2007-08-14T19:32:00.000-07:00

Sometimes even I wonder where I get my book ideas from. One time, I started a book based on a very weird dream I had. It was too freaky not to become the germ of a story :) About half the time, I have a theme or specific directive I need to tie a story into. The story I'm currently working on is for the DNW group. We built the shared world together, so my story elements had to conform with the world. However, I got to choose the time period for my story and the "family" line for my characters. These two elements are what really drove the story development. The "family" of my main characters are relatively well known, and certain characteristics of the family helped me to build the base for Tera and Darius. I even chose their names because of their meanings.

You can see I use a lot of little layers in my stories, and I think that's really how they come about. I get a germ of an idea and just keep painting on the layers until the story snowballs. It can be quite fun, and frustrating.

Where Do Ideas Come From?

2007-08-13T05:46:00.001-07:00

We get asked this question a lot, and most of the time my response is a shrug and a 'I don't know. They just come.'

Well, for my current work-in-progress, I have a different answer.

For a while there I was watching the Discovery Channel show "It Takes a Thief." It's about two guys who'd been in a lot of trouble as teens (mostly for theft). Discovery held auditions for this show, and two men--Matt and Jon--were chosen. They scope out a home--well, Jon scopes it out, Matt's along for the ride. Once they've chosen a home, Matt meets with the homeowners and tells them what they want to do. They place cameras all throughout the house, then Jon does his stuff. Breaks in (sometimes pretty violently) and steals everything he can put his hands on. (He does this when no one's home.) The family comes home to find out they've been robbed--most are very upset, even though they were expecting this to happen. And when Jon has done damage--such as break a window or something inside the house, they get pretty emotional. Which is what he wants--"if you don't feel something, you won't change." Then Matt steps in, "debriefs" the family and gets them set up with new security systems. Jon comes back in a few days and tries to break in again to see how well the family is using their new systems.

Anyway, both guys are pretty cute (I'll admit, Jon's my favorite), and it got me to thinking. I'm signed up for an Amber PAX involving twins. Hmmm. What if my two security experts are brothers. And not just brothers, but identical twins? And they've wanted the heroine, but she's a little skittish?

That's when you have "It Takes a Thief or Two." Due out in December 2007. I'm already about a third of the way done with it, and the manuscript is due to Amber Heat in September, so I'm doing good.

Set Pieces

2007-08-10T13:38:00.000-07:00

When it comes to actually working, I'm a bit haphazard. I too practice BICHOK--but I give myself breaks, I laze about, I try not to force it too much if I'm not inspired.

I don't really outline, aside from a sketchy synopsis.

But I do plan my set pieces.

In a film, a set piece is a big action sequence, or a big Important Scene. I plan my books this way. I try to make sure I have at least five or six of them, something to keep the tension high and the action flowing smoothly. That way they come along steady as heartbeats, ever five chapters or so, each one bigger than the last.

Sometimes as I write I worry things are moving too quickly. Probably because I don't plan a detailed outline, I always hit a point--usually a couple of times--where I worry there isn't enough story.

Then I remember my set pieces. The touchstones on the way to the story's climax. And I realize even if I cut out everything else in the entire book, those scenes alone will probably equal forty or fifty thousand words.

So I relax. I write from A to B, then B to C, and C to setpiece, and the story churns along smooth under the surface, and before I know it I've written a book and my hands hurt.

My goal is 2500 words per day. I don't always make it, but I do well enough, especially since when inspiration really strikes I can easily do double that amount.

And that's it. If I plan the high points and the low points, the rest tends to fit in. :-)

Clackity-clack, don't look back!

2007-08-09T08:39:00.000-07:00

I try not to, anyway. I fail completely.

Here is one thing I truly believe: there as many ways to write as there are writers. Outlines? Great, if they work for you? Fly by the seat of your pants! Fabulous! Especially if you brought a parachute. Longhand? Keyboard only? That really cool Dragonspeak program that I'd kill to have and which would do me absolutely no good at all because I can absolutely butcher a story telling it out loud? (seriously)

Fabulous. Absolutely perfect. As long as it works -- for you.

So, that said, here's the truth about me: I'm a binge writer. I deeply, deeply admire the writers who can turn out a chapter every day without fail. And I would definitely be more productive if I could. I'm fairly productive, though, so I can live with that. But when I am writing, it's a total-immersion thing. I've been known to write for 18 hours straight, when the story was shining clear and bright before me (and when I wasn't married... LOL!) And, much as I do believe in the value of putting pen to paper and not stopping till I reach the end... I stop. Every time.

I very seldom formally outline. Yeah, I can kind of scratch out the big beats of a story, but for me where a story really comes alive is in the details -- and I never know the details until I plunge into that world, that character, those events. I learn them by writing them. Which means I make mistakes.

Writing's a weird thing. Part logic, most definitely (and where a lot of movies can get away with gaping plot-holes -- they've got all that sound and color and motion to distract with! -- books can't. Not often, anyway.) Part intuition, gut, inspiration, whatever you want to call it. And lots and lots of practice.

Now me, I'm a gut writer. Full speed ahead, until the story starts tangling and my fingers slow on the keyboard... and slow... and slow... and okay, there's a problem here somewhere and now I have to sit back and figure out what it is, and what on Earth I've got here in front of me, anyway.

This is where practice -- tons and tons and tons of practice -- comes in handy. Another thing I firmly believe -- you only really learn your craft by doing it. By confronting the same problems over and over until you start to recognize them. Until you can sit back and look at this morass and say, "Oh, well, see, the stakes are high, sure, but they're not personal." Or "Dang, that's an awfully convenient solution there, Sie." And I trust my gut. I absolutely 100% trust my gut. It knows when I've got it right. It also knows when something is gumming up the works.

What it doesn't automatically know is what the problem is. That's where craft and intellect and logic and analysis come into play. Because dang it, no matter how hard I try, when I hit a bump in the road, my gut calls for a full, screeching halt and I don't get to go on until I've fixed it.

So clackity-clack! Don't look back! Right until there's a problem.

But one other thing I've found is that most problems can be fixed. Thank God.

-- Sierra

www.sierradafoe.com

Sorry to be boring!!!

2007-08-08T17:00:00.000-07:00

But I'm right there with the other two ladies this week. I'm a BICHOK-er too. I set goals, I force myself to stick to them if at all possible and I get it done. That's it. No magic except that I refuse to admit that there is such a thing as writer's block, lol.

I do make a three month plan as well, to let my mind know what we're in for so it won't seize up on me. (Just finished my plan through December tonight...it's a doozy so I'm feeling a little intimidated but what the hell. I'm going to try to make it happen. The worst I can do is fail.)

Oh, and I also try to write something every day, just so the writer muscles don't get wimpy.

That's it!! Boring Anna!! lol.

Anna J. Evans

BICHOK

2007-08-07T15:31:00.000-07:00

Ever heard that? Probably not. BICHOK is writer-ese for "Butt In Chair, Hands On Keyboard". And yet, I still have a hard time getting there. My excuse is for every time I wrangle myself out of extending a commitment, another one comes down the pike. People often ask me how on earth I juggle so many balls between my day profession, my writing life, and my personal life. My answer: I know which ones are rubber. And I know when they change material.

During July, my writing was totally rubber. With my personal commitments completed, and a time sensitive nature (in my mind) for the completion of a story, writing has turned back into glass. Since I was a little kid, I've listened to music to block out all other distractions when I need to focus on a project. The music changes depending on what I'm working on. Lately, I've found the "Move Along" album by The All-American Rejects has a perfect beat for me to write to. I also tend to write later at night. This is because I'm in no way a morning person, and I have a day job :) So, that's it for me.

How Do You Do It?

2007-08-06T05:33:00.000-07:00

One of the questions writers are asked frequently is "What's your writing process?" or words to that effect. "What sort of rituals do you go through to get yourself in the groove?" is another way it's been asked.

My answer may be disappointing. I don't have rituals. This is a job to me--albeit one that doesn't offer much monetary support. Yet. But just as I don't have any rituals to get me in the groove for my day job in Human Resources (other than my almost daily whining of "I don't wanna!" LOL), I don't have any rituals to get me in the groove for my writing job.

I just park my butt on the sofa, put my laptop on my lap, and jump in. I usually re-read a few pages where I've left off so I can get back into the scene.

But that's it. No lit candles, no specific music, no mantra chanting...

Disappointed?

Some plugs. For me!

2007-08-03T13:14:00.001-07:00

First, the most important thing. I have added an Amber Alert ticker to my sidebar (on my individual blog). Mine is the US code; there is one for Canada as well.

I urge all of you to click on the link above and add it too, and make a donation if you can.

Second, Anna J. and I got the cover for our January EC release, Demon's Triad. Check it out:

It's a pretty hot cover, no? Except I hate the chick's tacky earrings and necklace. The tank top isn't great either. But all in all, I think it's awesome. Very sexy, very reflective of the mood of the book. (Yes, this is the one we think will be X rated.)

AND, the latest issue of JERR (Just Erotic Romance Reviews) came out, and Blood Will Tell got a 5-STAR review!

"Explosive, orgasmic, riveting are just a few adjectives that describe Blood Will Tell by December Quinn. Ms. Quinn has taken an age-old tale, thrown in modern day lust and action, and has written a story with enough drama and sex to keep you rooted to your spot until the last word is read...Bravo for a story well written."

Until the next issue comes out, the entire review is available only through the JERR Yahoo Group, but once it's been moved to the archives I'll post a link to read the whole thing (or you can join and read it there!)

So color me VERY happy, five stars from JERR makes me feel pretty good indeed!

'Til Death do you part?

2007-08-01T05:46:00.001-07:00

As writers and readers of romance, we're very familiar with 'happily ever after'. Many times, that means a marriage and a little bundle of joy on the way for our hero and heroine, even in the edgier, paranormal and fantasy story lines that have become so popular in the past several years. Hell, I've got two stories that end with a couple married and knocked up, one couple with their second child on the way (they have a baby they're trying to rescue in the book, "Decking the Hollisters" is the one...if you want to check it out ;)).

But is this realistic HEA in these times of high divorce rates? I mean, simply slipping a ring on each other's fingers and saying 'I do' does not necessarily mean the hero and heroine will be togetha forevah. Having children together doesn't solidify anything either as anyone who's been a single parent knows.

For my own part, I don't *need* a wedding to feel the end of the story is solid and hopeful for the future, but I have to confess I do enjoy seeing my characters make that kind of commitment, whether it's realistic or not. But then, when have romance novels ever been accused of being too realistic :).

Thoughts?

Happy Wednesday,
Anna J. Evans

http://annajevans.com

Something you can do

2007-07-31T17:14:00.000-07:00

My short story, Bound to Love went out of print for a while. It'll be back in print electronically on August 13th as part of a charity anthology. Coming Together: For the Cure is a collection of erotica/erotic romance, and all proceeds will benefit to the Susan G. Komen Fund.

I hope you'll support this wonderful anthology by purchasing it from the Phaze website. I've had a number of family friends affected by breast cancer, and cancer in general. It truly was an honor to be selected. Here's a short excerpt from Bound to Love.

Excerpt:

I saw her for the first time tonight. In person. I’ve seen her in my dreams through the years. I feel like I’ve always known her.

She was the star attraction at Madame LaFleur’s. Her name, Daniela.

Daniela wrinkled her brow and then shrugged her shoulders. Weird coincidence. Squishing down into her pillows, she continued reading.

I don’t know what drew me to LaFleur’s tonight. I was supposed to visit Estella at the house I’ve rented for her. Lord Begley promised this was a not to be missed event, however. I’ve counted on his support for the latest bill, and needs must indulge him in his little entertainments.

I was interested, too, in seeing what a young lady fresh from the country looked like, as I have not seen one in an age. The young women of Society are forever at turns calculating seductresses or missish little fussbudgets too intent on what they’ve spent at the milliners.

We went to LaFleur’s and I suffered the usual round of birds singing and displaying their fancy feathers to my fellow compatriots. Soon though, LaFleur brought out Daniela.

I admit, I’ve been to auctions before, though I had never thought much of the fate of the women, gels really, who were the subjects of such intent interest. Virgins are too much trouble.

Daniela, though, took my breath away. I couldn’t let any other have her. She was mine the moment LaFleur opened the curtains to where she was sitting.

I know she had been forced into that pose, but my prick ballooned to the point where I had to cross my legs to keep some semblance of restraint. Others were not so prudent. I knew who were to be my most ardent opponents in the bidding.

Daniela thought of what it would be like to be on display for a roomful of men. Heat flashed through her. All eyes were on her, ready to bid for their chance to have her. She squirmed on the bed. The thought of exhibitionism had never before turned her on so thoroughly and so quickly. Her nipples ached, and she wondered how on earth to get out the stain she was surely leaving on the knickers. She turned the page.

Her chest was pushed out so that it appeared her lovely breasts were ready to burst out of the chemise. Her legs were spread open. I could see her quim through the lace of her knickers. The dark hair sprouted out along the edges, and through the holes. It was too dim to see her treasures further, but I had no doubt that the rest of her would be just as beautiful.

The bidding was fierce and began immediately. I bided my time waiting until Lord Featherington had beaten out everyone else. I met her eyes, and could see the fear in them. They were about to close the bidding when I placed mine.

The old gent’s eyes damn near bulged out of his head at the figure I stated. I’m sure he hadn’t seen me earlier, but if he had, he’d probably thought that I’d ignore the proceedings as I have previously.

I was not about to have that old lecher have her, and if I had to dissolve all of my holdings to beat him at the game, I would. Luckily, there are few peers who match my fortune.

Excerpt - CLAIMING HANNAH by Sherrill Quinn

2007-07-30T06:09:00.000-07:00

Mix a zealous animal rights activist with two horny space cowboys and you get more trouble than you can handle...

Jax Marjani was imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit, all because the corrupt government of his homeworld wanted his sister's lover, the exiled prince of the planet Nosfer. Now that Jax has been released, thanks to his sister and the vampire prince, he's settled on the barbarian planet of O'Kar 6, content to raise cattle and complete legitimate shipping runs between O'Kar 6 and Nosfer with the help of his best friend, Ian Hunter.

But when feisty Hannah Trueblood helps steal his cattle, Jax finds he's as much of a barbarian as the natives on this backwards world—and stakes his claim on her.

Submission never felt so good...

“Hannah?” His raspy voice skittered along her nerve endings like a match to flint and, in spite of getting caught—or perhaps because of it—the gruff sound enflamed her to instant arousal.

Hannah opened her mouth and then closed it. She couldn’t think of a thing to say. She, who was usually the articulate one of the bunch, was speechless.

Keeping hold of one of her wrists, he dragged her around the corner and up onto the porch. Once in the light, he took hold of her other wrist and stared down at her. He brought his free hand up and cupped her chin. His gaze skated over her face. Blue eyes glittered with lust. “Looks like you tangled with a cactus and lost,” he mused and leaned down to press a light kiss on a scratch on her cheek. “What’re you doing here?”

When she remained silent, gentle affection turned to hard suspicion. “What’re you doing here?” he repeated. He shoved her hands behind her back, wrapping one big hand around her wrists. The position made her body arch. His gaze went to her breasts, and the heated passion in their depths flared.

Her womb clenched at his show of dominance. She gave her head a mental shake. She wasn’t here for this. And, seeing how he waited patiently for her answer—not patient as in a teacher with a student, but patient like a predator stalking its prey—she inwardly cursed. No one had prepared her for this type of situation. What could she say? I was out for an evening stroll—in the middle of nowhere—and got lost?

Nope. That wouldn’t work.

My ship crashed?

Nope.

I stole your cattle?

Hell, no.

His hands tightened on her wrists.

“I…ah, I—”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? That’s why you’re here. You’re one of the rustlers.” He bent her back slightly, his face coming within inches of hers. “You shot Ian.”

Her eyes widened. “No!” Okay, that was a lie, but no way was she going to admit she’d injured his friend.

“I think you did.” Without warning, he stooped and folded her over his broad shoulder like a she weighed no more than a bedroll. As he straightened, she tried not to notice the smooth, supple skin of his back or the flex of the muscular ass covered in jeans, but it wasn’t easy to ignore so much sexy maleness within pinching distance.

Struggle, you nitwit. Hannah bucked against his shoulder. A big hand smacked her butt, startling a shriek from her. Her body liked that big hand on her ass, because her pussy slicked with cream.

He strode to the door and opened it, carrying her inside. “Ian!” he called out. “Look what I’ve got.”

Jax set her on her feet. From behind her, he immediately clamped that broad hand around her wrists, holding them once more behind her back. Ian came out of the other room, a towel draped around his lean waist and another one hanging over one tanned shoulder. His dark brown hair was damp and tousled, his skin still moist from his recent shower.

Green eyes narrowed on her face before his gaze swept up and down her body, taking in her black clothing and boots. “Well, well.” He looked at Jax. “Seems to me you said something about someone’s ass being yours?”

“Mmm. You’re right. I have been talking about discharging my weapon to get him—or, rather her—to talk, haven’t I?”

“Listen, guys, you have the wrong idea…” Hannah trailed off as Ian came closer. His stride was loose-hipped. God, he was sex-on-a-stick, a stick that tented the towel he wore.

He brought his face close and whispered, “I don’t think we do, little thief.”

“You tell me where my cows are off to, and it’ll go easier with you with the authorities.” Jax spun her around to face him.

Ian grasped her wrists, keeping them captive behind her back. He moved in, the heat from his body covering her like a living blanket.

Hannah couldn’t tell. It’d be handing a death sentence to the defenseless bovina, not to mention jail time for her friends. Clamping her lips together, she shook her head.

She felt a momentary unease. But in their encounter a year ago, Jax had been dominant but gentle, so she had no fear he would hurt her. Ian was a wild card, but she couldn’t believe Jax would let him hurt her, either. Deep in her gut she knew she was safe.

By the lust in their hard faces, not out of danger completely, though. She fought back a shiver as her arousal ratcheted up another notch...

Copyright 2007 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.

CLAIMING HANNAH - available now at Amber Heat!

Mmm, mmm, blood

2007-07-27T11:22:00.000-07:00

I looove vampires. I always have. Ever since I was a kid and saw Love at First Bite. I though George Hamilton was so, so cool in that--I already had a bit of a crush on him from Zorro the Gay Blade--and the idea of living forever and getting to stay up all night was unbelievably appealing.

And still is, frankly. Plus I think blood is sexy. I think biting is sexy. I thank power is sexy. Vampires--at least in fiction--tend to hit all three of those buttons.

Like Anna, I thought writing some funny vampires might be really cool and different a few years back, because I'd never realized some of that was out there already either. And honetly, while I love my own funny vampires, I think they're funny because they have good senses of humor, not because anything about them is particularly funny. I'm not a fan of spoofs, although I have written one.

But the vampire still does it for me. He's big, he's dark, he's strong, and he can grant me eternal life. What's not to love?

(I admit, shifters and weres don't do it for me at all. I just don't get it, unfortunately--it is a shame because I know how popular they are, but they leave me cold.)

Dark Attractions....

2007-07-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

It's the strength. The power. The hint of brimstone. It's being swept off your feet by something so overpowering there's no way to say no -- and who'd want to, anyway? It's that touch of the fantastical -- a love that's both impossible and absolutely meant to be:

The man shifted, rolling to his feet, and Jenna scrambled back, bracing herself against the wall of the cave. But he merely moved to the fire, crouched down by it, and added another chunk of wood to the flames.

As he studied the fire, she studied him -- the long, silver-black hair, the rippling torso, the broad shoulders with their hard planes of muscle… Everything about him was lean, corded, powerful. She found her gaze dwelling on the firm curves of his ass, and quickly averted her eyes.

He hunkered on his haunches easily, as if he’d never even seen a chair. His arm was still clenched against his side -- but when he shifted, reaching for her parka, she gasped at the sight of the gash that curved down his abdomen.

It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t…

Jenna moved slightly, and the man glanced over at her, pulling her coat closer around his shaking shoulders. His face was pale, angular, the well-molded jaw leading up to broad, prominent cheekbones. His lashes, so thick and black they looked almost kohled, curved against his ivory skin. Behind his thick, shaggy hair, his yellow eyes gleamed, feral and intent.

There was such force to his features, such a wildness…

-- Wolf Bound by Sierra Dafoe

No, he's hardly the sort of man you want to take to an afternoon tea party -- or home to meet your mother. Among other things, dear old Mom might start palpitating at his closeness, too...

We hate to admit it in the broad light of day, but the animal still fascinates us -- and gets our juices flowing! Feral, dominant, weres and vamps are the ultimate Bad Boys, waiting to seize us when we least expect it and have their way with us:

That low, rumbling voice spoke again. “Turn around.”

Unable to resist, she did, and found herself staring into eyes that were as black and endless as a midnight sky. A dark fire flickered far down within them, a raw, ceaseless energy that held her mesmerized. He smiled, a small quirk of his lips that drew her attention to his face, to the strong line of his jaw, the coal-black brows, the stern forehead half-hidden by the ebon fall of his thick, shaggy hair.

It brushed his shoulders -- broad, powerful shoulders, encased in soft white silk. His clothing was simple, if elegant; the silk shirt, gaping open slightly to show a heavily muscled chest dusted with fine black hairs, and black leather pants. They clung to his thighs, revealing taut muscles beneath -- as well as a distinct and mouthwatering bulge at his groin.

He wasn’t the tallest of the men in the room -- the one with brown hair was taller -- but still he towered over her even though she was wearing three-inch heels.

In a certain way, he wasn’t as handsome as the other men, either. They were all stunning to look at, but Fyodor was darker, sterner, his features both blunt and chiseled as if carved from raw granite. There was something almost elemental about him, something with the natural force of a hurricane or a tsunami. She stood spellbound, her gaze fixed on those harsh, craggy features despite the more conventional appeal of the others. He exuded a ferocious vitality, dominating the room merely by walking into it.

-- All Wrapped Up: Absolute Power by Sierra Dafoe

Did I mention powerful? He's the ultimate protector, too -- once he decides you're his woman. And there's nothing that can withstand him; not ordinary mortals, not the beasts of the forest. And most definitely not you.

But like I said before, who'd want to? :-)

-- Sierra

http://www.sierradafoe.com

Releasing today! All Wrapped Up: Absolute Power from Changeling Press!

Bloodsuckas and sexy shifters

2007-07-25T05:12:00.001-07:00

Angel...yum! He graduated from the same acting school I did...though many years earlier so I never got to drool over him in person. And um...

Okay, I have a confession to make. I never watched Buffy or Angel. I didn't even know this guy was Angel until December pointed it out on my blog the other day. I just thought he was a hottie. I missed the whole Buffy phenomenon and all of the early romance/vampire books. Christine Feehan who? Sherrilyn Kenyon what? I was reading historical fiction or plays or memorizing scripts. I picked up my first Feehan at a garage sale on a lark and only got through about 1/3 of it. I mean...all the drama, the bloodsucking I just...didn't get it.

What I did get is that I thought it was material RIPE for spoofage, however. So I wrote a kind of funny vamp romance novel, thinking I was SO very clever. Yeah, I was an idiot who'd never heard of Mary Janice Davidson either. Duh....

Fastforward three years and I've found myself writing quite a few vampire stories, though mostly unintentionally. I never set out to create a brooding dark hero, but I do enjoy a powerful alpha male, and ADORE a character who's had the time to mature and use their heart and mind to become a better, stronger person. The expanded lifetime of a vampire or shapeshifter certainly allows for that.

As for the shifters well...I guess the whole animalistic thing does it for me, lol.

I still haven't read any Feehan or Kenyon (though I'm dying to read her stuff because she seems like such a sweetie in person), but I enjoy some MJD from time to time, as well as the sexy paranormal stories penned by several of the other DNWs.

Hugs!

Anna J. Evans

Vampires, Werewolves, Aliens, Oh My!

2007-07-24T22:01:00.000-07:00

What is the allure about the fantastical? Is it the oddity? The unknown?

When I first thought about potentially becoming a writer, I decided I wanted to write fantasy romance so I could truly make up everything on my own. Oh, how naive I was. Especially as I've spent time in the contemporary and historical trenches. As a writer who has a series percolating that stars vampires, werewolves and witches, I may be able to make up a lot, but I have to intimately understand the mythology of all three magical beings because my readers have basic expectations of all three. Good thing I'm a librarian by day and have learned how to effectively research ;)

The next question is why are fantastical characters so prevalent within the erotic romance genre? My personal theory is because what makes something erotic to a reader is the ability to tap into that reader's fantasy life. If we're tapping into their fantasy life, why not make it a full-blown fantasy? As a writer, I've hopefully already done my job of getting the reader to suspend disbelief. It's less than a hop, skip and a jump to go the extra bit...if I like writing that anyway. I also think it's a two-way street. Fantasy readers are probably more open to erotic writing because they routinely read about worlds which have little similarity to the real world, at first glance.

As for why vampires, at least, are so prevalent within erotic romance...well, they've got a long history of being there. The concept of sharing blood is visceral in much the same way sex is. Vampire lore is very much one of seduction of the mind. Another element that makes an erotic story a success.

*Sigh* I feel like I'm rambling because it's so late at night for me, and there are just so many different points to which my mind keeps flitting. Save me from this insanity: tell me what you think of the connection between what is erotic and what is fantastical?

Sexy Thang

2007-07-23T05:46:00.000-07:00

There are vampires:

And then there are vampires:

Vampires of legend are horrible creatures who rise from their graves every night to feed upon the living--usually family members. Their breath is fetid, their skin pale except when they've gorged themselves on blood.

Not so sexy.

With the advent of Hollywood, vampires became something much more...sensual. Sexy, even. The tall, dark and handsome aristocrat who is dangerously compelling.

But why? Why is he so sexy? What is so compelling about a man who can literally love you to death?

That's just it, I think. The idea that by baring her neck a woman can risk her soul.

I mean, wouldn't you think about tilting your head to one side for this guy?

I mean, really.

Don't hate me

2007-07-20T13:47:00.000-07:00

but I have a confession to make.

I hate summer.

I hate the heat. I hate the bugs (especially bees and wasps, to which I am allergic.) I hate the constant sunshine. I hate the pressure to be cheerful, to go outside and sweat, to have barbeques and wear swimsuits and eat fruit.

I just plain hate summer.

My birthday is in the summer. So when I was a kid, I never got to bring cupcakes to school and have everyone sing. I was always lumped in with the other "summer birthday" kids on the next-to-last or last day of school. My parties were always remarkable for the need to stay indoors lest we die of heatstroke, or the need to have that torturous amusement known as a pool party, during which you get water splashed in your face until your skin prunes and then have to eat food with your damp, chlorine-smelling fingers. Pool parties are especially fun when you're nearsighted and can't wear your glasses in the pool.

My skin turns bright red in the heat and humidity makes my hair frizz, so birthday photos of me generally resemble a sort of tomato with blonde fuzz around it.

People look at you funny if you wear long sleeves in the summer.

I get heatsick easily, too.

I like fall, when the air smells fresh and a little smoky and the sun goes away for a little bit...

Summer always feels like punishment. I don't even get to sleep late anymore like when I was a kid, because now I have kids who insist on rising at 7 am.

Bleh.

Is it October yet?

On the Road #2 -- Vampire gang-bang, anybody??

2007-07-19T10:28:00.000-07:00

Yep, I'm still on vacation. What a lazy-butt I am, LOL! Actually, I've got my laptop with me so it's kind of a working vacation. But I do have a sneak peek for you at next Thursday's release -- All Wrapped up 2: Absolute Power!

I even made a cool little banner for it!

All Wrapped Up 2: Absolute Power
by Sierra Dafoe
coming July 26th!
http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=651

She was staring up at him, her body quivering with fear, indignation… and something more. Her pupils were huge, dilated fully as if she were terrified, or extremely aroused. Or both.

But she hadn’t bolted for the door, Fyodor noted. Not that it would have done her any good in any case -- the Wardens would only let her out on his command, and he had no intention whatsoever of letting her go yet.

“What do you want, then?” she demanded, both terrified and angry. “I’m willing to let you drink my fucking blood, for Christ’s sake! Isn’t that enough? Isn’t that what you want?”

Her breasts, cupped firmly by the leather of her halter-top, heaved with each breath. Fyodor let his gaze linger on them a moment, and on the smooth, creamy skin of her bare shoulders, remembering the feel of it. Nice. Every inch of her, he was certain, would be just as smooth, just as soft. She wasn’t made for hardness, this one -- and her body knew it as thoroughly as his did. He could smell the warm, enticing scent of her, could almost taste the excitement that sent her blood racing, pulsing in her throat, her belly, her crotch…

Yes. He’d been right about her, right about the rigid mask she put on like a shield. It was too hard, too inflexible -- it was an overcompensation. And exactly the opposite of what lay beneath.

Her flesh knew the truth. It quivered, practically begging for his touch every time he drew near her. It was her mind and her heart that were terrified of her natural desires, desires that had obviously been used against her by someone. Some nameless bastard who’d thought it would be fun -- he practically spat the word in his mind -- to break her.

The fury welling through him surprised Fyodor. It had been centuries since he’d bothered to feel angry about anything. In fact, Fyodor realized, it had been centuries since he’d bothered to feel.

Slowly, consciously, he relaxed his hands, which had knotted themselves without his being aware of it into fists. He gazed down at her, almost wonderingly. What was she, this Mia, that she could make him feel such things?

It wasn’t only compassion he was feeling, either. His cock was straining against the tight leather of his pants, trapped at an angle that was growing more uncomfortable by the second. And when he thought of what he’d have to do to free her from her fear…

Fyodor shut that line of thinking down before his growing erection got any more painful. Besides, it was time -- more than time, actually -- to answer her question.

“No, that’s not what I want. That’s what you want. And I’m willing to give you that. But to earn it, Mistress Mia, for this one night you are going to service me… and every single member of my clave. You are going to obey my orders, fulfill my every whim. You are going to do every and anything I tell you --”

Her head jerked up, her eyes widening in outraged denial. “You bastard! You goddamned --”

Fyodor cut her off coldly. “Call me whatever you like. I don’t care. You want the absolute power I can give you? Then for one night you will give me absolute submission.”

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=651

Can you tell I had fun writing this one? :p

http://www.sierradafoe.com -- Erotic Adventures for Adventurous Women!

Summer time...and the livin' is...

2007-07-18T05:59:00.000-07:00

Things to love about summer...hmm...well we have 2 kids with birthdays in the summer so there are lots of balloons, cakes, and goodies around the Evans household from May-July. And cake and balloons and parties with bbq and backyard play are fun.

Days at the lake are also fun. I mean...what's not to like about kids and water and pink floaty noodles and beer cold from the cooler?

I love summer, I really do, but...the writer in me is ready for it to be over. I need time to work and that just doesn't happen with three kids out of school constantly wanting food or snacks or entertainment. I'm ready for August 20th for the older ones and September for Mom's day out. And the hubs is having a hard time convincing me to go for number four this summer. I was all gung-ho about adding to the family before...before...summer...*shudder*....lol

Anna J. Evans

Summer fun

2007-07-17T10:45:00.000-07:00

Things I love about summer:
1. Summer vacations
2. My birthday
3. Fourth of July - fireworks!
4. I can wear shorts
5. This summer, my nephews were born
6. Baseball games
7. Summer movies

Things I hate about summer:
1. Sweating by just walking out the door
2. Gas price hikes
3. Mosquitoes
4. High humidity levels
5. I have to work through the summer since I'm not in school anymore

As you can see there's a lot of things I love about summer, and things I hate. I'm not much of an extreme person, which means, weather-wise, I'm more of a Spring/Fall girl. *But* I love having four seasons, so I can't complain too much ;) This summer I'm especially busy with conferences, vacations and family commitments. Travel plans have been interesting, but ultimately fun as I'm listening to audiobooks, old favorites and new ones. How have your summers been so far?

Summer in the Old Pueblo

2007-07-16T12:35:00.000-07:00

Tucson in the summer can be...unbearable. Better than, say, Phoenix, Yuma or Lake Havasu City where temps are usually 10 degrees hotter than where I am, but it's still freakin' HOT. And once the monsoon season rolls in and the humidity climbs, it gets sticky. Of course, all y'all in the East and Midwest and South know what I'm talking about. 95 degrees with 90 percent humidity in Ohio is no picnic, either.

So, that's my not so great thing about summer here. Triple digit temps with humidity somewhere 55-60%.

But those high temps and high humidity is what gives us what I love about summer here--the monsoons. The storms are awesome--huge deluges, sometimes with microbursts that snap telephone poles like they were toothpicks. The storms generally roll in by late afternoon/early evening, sometimes last into the early morning hours, but by the time the sun comes up the next morning, we're getting up to beautiful blue skies. Then we repeat the process all over again. Not always every day, but a few times a week.

With the wide expanse, you can look east, for example, and see a rain shaft 10-15 miles away, and you're sitting in complete sunshine. And when the rains hit the mountains, with the clouds tucked into the canyons... It's gorgeous.

So, do you love or hate summer? Why?

Worst Vacation?

2007-07-13T09:08:00.001-07:00

I honestly can't remember.

I haven't taken many vacations, for one. I've never really been able to afford it. And when I do take trips, they usually work out well.

The worst one, probably, was a short trip to Pensacola, Florida back in '94 or '95, I can't recall exactly. Pensacola didn't particularly like me and my boyfriend and our friends. They didn't like blue- and pink-haired people wearing leather spikes. They refused to let us buy beer (yes, we were legal, they just wouldn't serve the likes of us.) They gave us the finger. They cancelled my boyfriend's band's show and left us with nowhere to go.

But even that was fun. I mean, it wasn't, but we all managed to have a good tme anyway, despite being a little frightened of getting attacked.

When I was a kid we traveled a lot because my Dad was a salesman. We used to stay at a Holiday Inn just down the road from Graceland, and there was a bird right outside who used to dive-bomb me and steal my hair for its nest. Not good.

Oh! Wait! The hubs and I went to Key West one year for a long weekend, before we were married. It was AWFUL. The hotel where we stayed (it was a hellhole called The Chelsea House, which MAY have switched management since we were there in '99(?) but if not, don't ever go there) promised us, first of all, a room with a bathtub and loft with additional beds. We got a grimy shower and a dingy, hot attic, where the beds were not only not made, they still bore the body imprints of the last people who slept in them. The snotty manager told us they didn't bother to make those beds unless it was requested--funny, since they allowed us to pay for the room with the additional beds.

Our TV remote was broken. Our promised balcony was in fact a narrow ledge holding a broken small refridgerator. There was no parking.

They promised Concierge service to (among other things) take care of food delivery for us, but when we tried to use it told us they were closed. They gave us a list of restaurants we could order from and have delivered ourselves but none of them delivered.

In addition, Key West itself was dingy and seedy, with terrible service. When we finally went out to eat at a restaurant across the street after the Delivery Debacle, our waitress actually smiled and said hello, and we were so grateful we tipped her $40.

On leaving the Chelsea House, we tried to complain to the manager, a snippy little blond guy. He interrupted us with "I'll just give you your money back" and ran our card through to refund.

The refund never came through.

Thurs. July 12 -- On the Road #1

2007-07-12T17:59:00.000-07:00

Hi guys! I'm in Richmond, VA at the moment, visiting my boy -- yes, it's true, Sierra is (GASP!) on vacation! But I did want to let you know that this Sunday, the 15th, I'll have a book in The Romance Studio's Book-A-Day giveaway -- so come enter on Sunday at The Romance Studio!

-- Sierra

sierradafoe.com

Worst Holiday EVAH!!

2007-07-11T05:44:00.000-07:00

Awww...Hawaii! One of the most beautiful places on earth. The ocean is the perfect temperature and the waves in April are big enough for fun, but small enough that you needn't fear being crushed upon the rocks.

The sunsets are gorgeous, the temperature warm and balmy without being sweltering.

The flowers and gardens are unrivaled. They are everywhere, even in your salads, even sitting on top of your omelet when it comes in the morning.

Some very fine snorkeling, easy to get to if you rent a car (which was surprisingly affordable.)

I went there on my first honeymoon. (No that's not me, just generic wedding people). And I had a good time, in spite of the fact that I had a sick feeling in my stomach the entire vacation. Something was wrong. Me and the new hubs were fighting way too much for newlyweds. Gone was the man who had cried when I'd tried to give back his ring, and had somehow convinced me to elope to Vegas rather than call off our wedding entirely. Back was the man who would fight me on the smallest issue, and who made even a trip to paradise, at times, a total pain in the ass. It was during this vacation, my first honeymoon, that I began to suspect I'd made the biggest mistake of my life...

Next time I'm going to bring my second hubs, my best friend and the best man ever. And we're going to have a much less volatile, more lovable trip. I just know it. Because what's not to love about Hawaii, and we are nothing if not easily entertained when in each other's company :).

Anna J. Evans

Bad vaca!

2007-07-10T09:41:00.000-07:00

I've spent the morning trying to think of some bad memories to share. I've done a lot of travelling over the years. Growing up, my family usually took one big vacation a year, and usually drove. As an adult, travel is one of my favorite pastimes. You'd think with the frequency of my travel, there'd be some good fodder for this post. Especially as I'm the oldest of five kids! But, noooooo...

The problem is, with my family, if something bad happens, when we look back on it, we find the humor in the situation. In Ireland last year, one of our rental cars attracted dents like nobody's business. Thing is, after the first one, on the back right corner, we had to laugh at the others. Reason: my dad caused the second dent, on the back left corner, and the third dent was on the front right corner. Only one corner returned undented :D

Probably the closest thing to a bad memory is the road trip out to Colorado from Chicago when I was five. I acted like a typical five year old, my mom was recovering from giving birth to my middle brother two and a half weeks earlier, and it was freaking hot!

So, are my family members and I nutters, or do you have a vacation that had bad things happen, but now you can only remember it with humor?

Holiday Memories

2007-07-09T05:42:00.000-07:00

We're supposed to be talking here about our worst holiday memories, and I wish I had some bad memories, because that would mean I've taken memorable vacations. LOL Unfortunately, I haven't.

When I was a kid, our family "vacations" consisted of 2 weeks at the first part of August spent with family in West Virginia for our family reunion. Lots of happy memories there. When I was in college, my "vacations" were going home to eat Mom's cooking. Happy memories there. Once I was out of college, for many years I made about $5.50 an hour, so... no money for vacations. When I took time off work, it was to rest and relax at home. My sister won a free trip for 2 to the Bahamas through Mary Kay once--that was fun, too. A free vacation that put me in the hole--back then, I couldn't even afford free. *G*

Before I moved to Arizona, we started coming out here to spend time with my brother and his family. Did the touristy thing, and nothing really awful happened. I *was* a bit disappointed with my one and only visit to a ghost town. We drove through Dos Cabezos and my brother pointed to a pile of mud adobe and said, "There it is." (I was expecting something more... more.) So, that was disappointing, but not horrible.

My problem is, I've never been anywhere. My vacation time this year was spent... hmm, going home to eat Mom's cooking. LOL I have one more week coming, and the plan is that she and my sister are coming out here to, er, eat my cooking.

I'm thinking my friend S and I need to get back up to Sedona one of these days. We'll probably call it a "working vacation" and plot a book or two, but it's mostly spent staring at the red rock and wishing we could afford to live up there. (Because then, at least, that would mean I could afford to really vacation somewhere...)

One day I hope to take several weeks to visit the UK (England, Scotland and Ireland, specifically), and maybe the Isles of Scilly, since I have a (hope-to-be-published) book set there. I'd also like to go to Australia. I have a friend who lived there up until about a year ago (she grew up in England and moved to Oz when she was 13), so if I drag her along I'll have a built-in tour guide.

Anyone have any suggestions on where I could vacation? Or, at least, steer me away from places where you haven't had the best of times?

The v-neck

2007-07-06T03:50:00.000-07:00

Wow, everyone's picked so many of my top picks already (especially Kelly and those suits. I LOVE men in suits. I think half the reason my heroes tend to be businessmen rather than manual workers is because I love, love, love to put them in suits with crisp white shirts underneath. Especially slightly undone suits--loose ties, top couple of buttons undone...rowr! Although I do enjoy firemen and mechanics as much as the next girl, too.)

But for casual wear? I love those v-necks. Especially v-neck sweaters, the thin, expensive ones. I love when a white t-shirt peeks out the top and I love them plain. Something about the way they emphasize the breadth of shoulders makes me all limp inside. Even the thinnest man looks manlier in a v-neck sweater (not t-shirts, though, I'm not crazy about v-neck t-shirts.)

I like when they wear chunky boots or shoes that make their jeans bag at the ankles. It makes them look solid, sturdy.

Thin, faded t-shirts are nice, the way they cling to chests and shoulders. Jeans that aren't too baggy but aren't too tight. I like black jeans--well, black anything, really. Black is a serious color, it's not frivolous, and a man shouldn't be frivolous either.

I've also developed a fondness for those mock-turtleneck sweaters that zip up the front, if the zipper runs all the way down. Unzipped or zipped, I like them.

Men should wear subdued colors--black, gray (I love gray), burgundy, heathery or navy blue, hunter green, tan or brown or taupe. Men should not wear pastels or bright colors (see exceptions below), except red on occasion if they're Burt Reynolds in Smokey and the Bandit. He could pull it off. Not all men can. And even that was a dark red. So I guess it stands. The only other way I'll accept bright colors on men are if they wear bowling or tiki shirts, which I like for casual wear provided the wearer has a sense of humor about them.

Men should not wear sandals. Men should never wear white shoes that aren't tennis shoes. No black socks with shorts--in fact, no shorts. I don't think anyone should wear shorts over the age of about 23. Women can wear skirts and men can wear big-boy pants. A man can take the heat.

Men should not wear brown after dark. As Frank Sinatra said, "a man should blend in with the night sky."

Some jewelry is okay. I like neck chains, but the only charms permitted are shark's teeth (on some men) or dog tags (on any man), and no gold chains at all. I like chunky silver rings (and have recently discovered an odd fondness for pinky rings, of all things, must be all the mob movies I'm watching lately) and watches. Some men can pull of bracelets, but most can't. Spiked leather bands are of course sexy, as long as the attitude behind it is real, and believe me I can tell. Same with spiked belts. If you bought it at Hot Topic, you probably aren't wearing it right.

I agree with Sherrill and Sierra that hats are lovely, simple lovely, and we lost something huge when they fell out of fashion. I am fond of suspenders like Anna (although I confess the overalls threw me. They just don't appeal to me.)

A few years ago we bought my husband a completely new wardrobe. Guess what he wears these days?

What are your rules for what men shouldn't wear?

You can leave your hat on...

2007-07-05T09:39:00.000-07:00

Please. Oh yeah. Hats are to me what high heels seem to be to guys. Unlike Katherine Hepburn, I do NOT have a horror of men who wear their hats in the house -- or in bed, yum! (Free copy of Pool Boys to the first person who can tell me what movie I'm referencing! Post a comment!)

Hell, some guys even make skullcaps look good! Hee! Happy Thursday!

-- Sierra

www.sierradafoe.com

Fashion Fetishes

2007-07-04T05:18:00.001-07:00

Suspenders...omg, I just love suspenders. I think I've managed to convince just about every man I've ever really been gone on to strap himself in to a pair. (The hubs looked especially yummy in his tuxedo pants and suspenders after we were married. Sigh :))

These are a little....um...you know, not quite manly enough for me, but still, just about any suspender will get me going, assuming the wearer likes females. (This guy obviously doesn't and that's cool, but that prevents me from getting all ga ga over his suspenders. It's like...a self-protection mechanism.)

Overalls, especially Carhartt. I used to date an amazing guy in college who wore these. Every time I saw him all buckled up in those tan overalls, his hands all dirty from whatever hippy craft thing he was working on....drool...I just wanted to climb him like a spider monkey and drag him off to my lair. LOVE overalls. Love, love love them! (Note to self, get pair for hubs.)

Also love business clothes and all black or black and white suits. But...these guys are obviously having issues keeping their clothes on. Grown men, geez, you'd think they would have learned to pull up their pants after going to the bathroom. Even my three year old is learning that. Duh. Lazy parenting man...

And this....god this is so hot!! I just want to peel back those crossed suspendery bits and...OMG! Of COURSE I'm not serious! Ew. This is obviously the comic relief people. You need to lay off the Miller Light if you thought otherwise.

Which reminds me! Everyone celebrate safely in the U.S. for the 4th of July. Don't drink and drive and all that.

Happy Holiday Hump Day!

Anna J. Evans

http://annajevans.com

Mmmm...suits

2007-07-03T22:03:00.000-07:00

Is there nothing more luscious than a well dressed man? Don't you just want to peel off that thin layer of civilization and see what is hidden beneath it? A well-tailored suit will accent the best features on a man, whether it's his broad shoulders, a narrow waist, or one finely sculpted ass. Check these photos out:
and my fave celeb-in-a-suit photo:

Alan Tudyk (IMDb won't let me pull the picture into the post)

Sexy Men, Sexy Clothes

2007-07-02T05:39:00.000-07:00

Well, our topic for this week is "Clothes that men look sexy in." And I'll admit, I have a hard time with this one, because some guys can look sexy in just about anything. But, here goes...

First off, living in Arizona I get to see a lot of guys wearing jeans and cowboy hats and, I'll confess, cowboy butts drive me nuts:

And just home from the office, starting to get comfortable...

And seeing a guy in just his skivvies makes me shiver...

But I think I like my men when they're just wearing sheets...

So, I guess I really didn't answer this, did I? What can I say? I like men. *G*

So many books, so little time...

2007-06-29T10:33:00.000-07:00

It's hard for me to say exactly what I'm reading now. Well, not hard to say, I can say it very easily. It's hard for me to say what I'm reading now by naming one book, is the problem.

I tend to have several books on the go at once. Usually it's a combination of fiction and non, with various magazines thrown in as well, and whatever comic the hubs decides I absolutely have to read, too.

Yesterday I read Marian Keyes' "Anybody Out There". It's a lovely book--I love Marian Keyes--but so, so, so, so, so sad. Seriously. I cried. Be warned, if you plan on reading it. The trademark funny moments are there--one or two of which I'm still giggling over--but man. SAD.

Finishing it put me in the mood for more Keyes, but cheerful Keyes, which ruled out my favorite Keyes book Rachel's Holiday. So I grabbed her Under the Duvet instead, which is non-fiction.

I'm also reading Donald Maass' Writing the Breakout Novel. And Julie Burchill's The Guardian Columns 1998-2000. And Five Families, a book about the rise of the Mafia in New York (research).

I'm about to start reading a new mystery I just grabbed which looks interesting called The Red Dahlia about a Black Dahlia copycat killer in the UK, and I can't remember the author but it looks pretty good.

How many books do you read? Are you fickle like me, or are you actually grown-up? :-)

Caution! Falling books ahead!

2007-06-28T06:25:00.000-07:00

Seriously. There should be a sign saying that on my front door. You know the leaning tower of Pisa, right? Well, that's about what my TBR pile looks like -- so we're not going there! Instead, I want to mention a few books and authors that I've really, really enjoyed recently.

First on the list -- Angela Knight. I'm embarrassed to admit, I'd never read any of Angela's stuff before I started at Changeling. I picked up a few of her novellas -- and then I won a copy of Master of Swords (autographed and everything!) Now, it really does take more than an author's signature to impress me -- but boy, did she ever! I immediately went out and bought the rest of the series: Master of Wolves, Master of Night, Master of the Moon and the just-released Master of Dragons. If you haven't read this wild, vampire-laden rewrite of the King Arthur legends, do it! Magic, sorcery, hot hunks, even hotter sex, dragons, adventure, and wonderful heroines. Check 'em out at any bookstore -- heck, Master of Dragons, at least, is right at your local Walmart!

Another very recent discovery -- Jory Strong. I'd picked up the EC collection, Seasons of Seduction, because Sherrill's wonderful menage story Chasing Madison is in it. As an added bonus, I discovered Jory's outstanding novelette, Lyrael's Sacrifice. Haunting, lyrical, mythical and magical, this tale of a wild desert Djinn and the woman he claims and is claimed by will utterly enchant you. And the sex? OMG. Just OMG (and this is from me!)

A few months ago, I picked up Teresa Medeiros's After Midnight, and was absolutely delighted by this fun, breezy tale of an eldest "wallflower" sister trying to raise and protect her two younger sisters in Recency England -- a little difficult when the middle sister gets engaged to a vampire! Caroline Cabot is a plucky and engaging heroine, and I promise you will cheer for her when she finally gets her man! Only mildly spicy, but don't let that stop you from checking her out!

So there's a few of the gems I've discovered in the past year -- there's a lot more, believe me! But (HEY!) I've got a book coming out today so it's gonna be a bit busy around here! Yup, Once Bitten, Twice Shy has just been released from Changeling Press! Stop by and check it out -- and tell me, what wonderful new authors have you discovered recently? I can still see my ceiling -- obviously my TBR stack isn't tall enough!

-- Sierra

www.sierradafoe.com

Just Finished Reading Pile, not time for TBR

2007-06-27T04:35:00.001-07:00

I just got back from vacation in Mexico (have the going on 5-day food poisoning to prove it), and had such a great time catching up on a few of my TBR books. I read Laurell K. Hamilton's latest Anita Blake offering since I got a killer discount on it at Barnes and Noble. It was....okay. Not as good as the first books, and I might have skipped it if I weren't writing a lot of urban fantasy stuff these days and wanting to get a vibe for what's going on in that world now. (I have a bunch of other UF books in my TBR pile, but don't know if I'll get to them before the summer is through because all my kiddies will be home again soon, which cuts down on the reading time.)

Also read this book, "Rhymes with Witches" by Lauren Myracle. It's Young Adult, and it totally rocked. I've been reading a lot of YA the past year because I wrote my first YA. As I'm hoping to get started on my second this July/August, I thought I deserved a little YA treat to get me in the mood and this one was just great. One part horror, one part "Mean Girls", it just...well I highly recommend it is all I'm saying.

Have a great Wednesday!

Anna J. Evans