Tea and Romance

One of my favorite ways to relax is to sit down with a book and a cup of tea. Though I usually drink plain black tea, I enjoy different flavors as well. Some of my favorites are orange, blueberry, mint and lemon. If I’m feeling stressed and I can find the time, I’ll have a cup of tea and read a favorite book.

I remember when I first became obsessed with romance novels. I was in my late teens and I couldn’t get enough of historical romance novels–the bodice rippers. One of my favorite memories is of drinking orange tea on a Saturday afternoon in the summer while reading a romance novel set during the civil war.

Now over twenty-five years later I still love romance novels and I still love tea. Some things never change and in this case that’s a good thing. When I’m depressed or stressed a good book, whether it’s romance, horror, fantasy or sci-fi, can help lift my spirits.

My love for tea has sometimes influenced my characters. Many of them prefer tea to coffee. In my novel, Back to Haunt You, the main couple first meet in a tearoom.

What are some of your favorite ways to relax or some of your favorite pastimes? If you’re a writer, do your favorites sometimes appear in your books?

The following excerpt is from one of my older titles, Back to Haunt You. It focuses on the first time the hero and heroine cross paths. Hope you enjoy it!

Back to Haunt You
(paranormal)
Ellora’s Cave (Blush)

Morgan playfully shoved Uma’s shoulder before they left the car and headed for the tearoom’s entrance.

They walked up three steps and opened the door to the soft tinkle of bells.

“Morgan! Uma!” Deb, thin and dressed in a flowered print dress, hurried from behind a glass case filled with delicious-looking cookies and pastries. Her thick-soled leather sandals thudded on the floor before she stopped in front of the mother and daughter. “I’m so glad you finally came. It’s really quiet this morning, so for now you’ve got the room to yourselves.”

They followed her through a door to a room decorated in pastel colors. Five charming little tables were set up, three in the center of the room and two by the picture window overlooking the park in the town square. Across the room, two cushioned high-backed chairs with round end tables flanked each side of glass double doors leading to the porch.

Deb guided the mother and daughter to a window seat.

“I’ll be right back with your tea. You’ll have to excuse me for darting back and forth, but my employee called in sick this morning, so I’m on my own.”

“No problem,” Morgan said.

Several moments later, the two were enjoying tea and cookies while discussing their favorite movies, a subject that rarely incited arguments between them.

Morgan was suddenly distracted by the arrival of another patron. A man, strangely enough. Read the rest of this entry »

If you missed the blog tours announcements on my HOME page, here’s where I’ll be today:
*  Guilty Indulgence
*  Delighted Reader
*  Black Hippie Chick’s View on Books and the World

Tons of prizes are at stake! If you’ve missed a few stops, be sure to circle back to all the links on the HOME page. No prizes have been awarded yet!

I have so many irons in the fire right now. I won’t list them now. You’d be bored, and I’d start to feel panicked. So instead, I’ll share a little excerpt from something coming your way in August. It’s been ready for release for a while, but there hasn’t been a good time for me to upload, so I’ll wait a few weeks. Enjoy the excerpt. This is the only glimpse into the past. The rest of the book takes place in the present.

Dragon’s Desire

Ragged wisps of clouds crawled across the face of the full moon, lightening then darkening the barren precipice. Local villagers called it The Dragon’s Atoll. The bürgermeister had given him directions, told him when to begin the climb, warning him the atoll only existed during the full moon before it disappeared for another hundred years.

An hour earlier, the knight had climbed the rocky precipice and now hid behind a stone pillar, sword drawn. He listened to the soft sobs of the girl the villagers had chained to the pillar according to rules handed down for a millennium, or so the elders had said. She was their sacrifice, their gift to the winged demon to pacify its hunger and spare them its wrath.

The knight had silently scoffed at their fear. He didn’t believe in dragons or demons. At least, not mythical beasts. He’d seen enough in his travels to Palestine and back to know evil existed. True evil resided in the hearts of greedy, bloodthirsty men.

Still, the purse filled with gold the villagers offered him to slay the dragon and rid them of their curse convinced him to remain where he was.
“I shall die,” the girl whispered, “savaged by the beast.”

“You won’t die,” he whispered, casting her a sideways glance. “’Tis only a tale.”

“You weren’t raised on tales of the horror. Do you think they are only stories told to frighten children?” she said, her voice rising toward the end.

She was a comely thing with golden hair and gentle curves. He’d fought shock and disgust when the old men had cut her clothing from her body to leave her nude. The night was chilly and the sound of her teeth clacking as her body shivered had him reaching for his cape. If they were bound to wait together, she needn’t freeze.

Come morning, he’d lead her from the mountain and deliver her to her father, the bürgermeister who’d hired him, safe and sound. He stepped around the pillar and bent over to slip the cloak around her.

Instead, she shook her head. “You mustn’t.”

“You are cold.”

“I’ll not be the reason my village suffers.”

He sighed and dropped the cloak, trying not to let his gaze slide down her naked frame but failing. Her nipples were ruched, the tips drawn into tight buds on her round, firm mounds. “How were you so unlucky to be chosen?” he asked quietly, leaning his back against the gray granite rock so he looked out across the atoll rather than at her.

“A lottery of maidens is held. All our names are entered.”

His lips twitched and he shot her a glance. “And how do the villagers know you are truly virgin?” Read the rest of this entry »

A Quick Note: The She Shifters Blog Tour and Fournicopia Blog Blitz continue!
Up for grab are a ton of great prizes. Be sure to hit Megan Slayer’s blog
and Seductive Musing today for yet more chances to win! ~DD

What Robs You of Your Time to Write

My intentions to stay on track are great or that’s what I like to tell myself. Time management is a balance. A precise schedule that holds everything together. But there are days when no matter what I did nothing worked out and these days would run into weeks. I had to find out what was robbing me of my time so I made a list.

What took up time in my day.

Work, eating, cleaning, feeding animals, laundry, e-mail, blogs and sleep. By the time I got home, cleaned up, ate and worked on e-mails I was exhausted. In my head I had hours during the day to write. Why wasn’t it working out in my real life?

I found an article and it talked about writing out a time log. Spend a few days and jot down everything you do.  It worked out great and showed me how I was wasting so much time.  So I decided to share.

Preparing and writing your time log

You don’t need to keep writing a time log permanently. It is sufficient to do it for 3-7 days.  When you write a time log, make sure you don’t miss even the minor activities. Don’t let your time wasters hide there. Take a sheet of paper and divide it into columns listed below.

• Time
• Activities
• Scheduled
• Interrupted
• Urgent
• People (involved)

Then continue with activities you would normally do that day. On the way, update your time log. Do it either every time you switch to a new activity or at some short time intervals, like 10-20 minutes. Add entries to your “Time” and “Activities” column, and try to put marks like “Yes” or “No” in the “Scheduled”, “Interrupted”, and “Urgent” columns. Where relevant, make short notes on what people you spend time with too.

When you have your time log written, you can move to the most important part, the analysis. Review your records and try to get answers to the following questions.

• What percentage of your time is spent in each of the      different areas of your life? How is it divided between Work, Business,      Family, Recreational, writing?
• What percentage of your activities are important?
• Are urgent?
• What people you spend more time with?
• What percentage of your activities go as planned?
• What are main interruptions?

Then think of possible adjustments and action steps. For example:

• Are there any activities you can cut back on?
• Is there anything you can delegate or simplify?
• Can you save time by grouping related tasks, like      shopping?

Once you see everything you do on paper it will amaze you on how you can add a little more time to your writing.

My time is better spent now on getting my book ready for its release.

 Rescued from the Dark

Set to be released end of 2012
Published through Black Opal Books

What if you woke up from a nightmare, trapped in a world of darkness, with no memory of how you got there? Rescued from the Dark is a passionate, gripping story about FBI agent, Jason Michaels, confronting his duty to his country, and struggling with his feelings for a woman with no memory of their love.

Undercover Agent, Jason Michaels, infiltrates the terrorist cell and risks everything, even his life, to save the FBI intern who stole his heart, then walked away. Once Mercy wakes from her coma Jason struggles with the fact that she does not remember what happened, but anguishes with the idea that she believes their unborn child belongs to her ex. Jason soon realizes the terrorists vow to get her back to claim their secrets locked in her memory, no matter what the cost.In a race against time, Jason and Mercy struggle to fight their attraction, and put their differences aside, as they launch a manhunt to save their country and each other.

 Lynda Kaye Frazier
https://lyndafrazier.blogspot.com
www.lyndakayefrazier.com
Facebook- Lynda Kaye Frazier- Author
Twitter- lynda_kaye
Writing is my passion, Reading is my Love

Fox’s Folly is a first in a couple of ways. It’s my first male-male book, though I’ve written a few m/m short stories, including one that was published as standalone ebook. It’s my first prequel. It’s the prequel Foxes’ Den (Duals and Donovans: the Different 2), which is why, though Fox’s Folly is a Duals and Donovans book, it doesn’t have a series number. And it’s the first book an editor specifically sparked me to write.

At the time my Samhain editor, the fabulous Linda Ingmanson, accepted Foxes’ Den, which is a menage involving a married male couple—witch Paul and fox shape-shifter Tag—and the kitsune they both come to love, she said she’d love to see a book about how Paul and Tag met. At the time, I wasn’t sure how they’d met, only that it had involved some element of danger and, given Tag’s character and his connection to the god Trickster, probably some element of oddness. I let the idea stew in the back of my mind for a while and then it came to me. Las Vegas! They meet in Las Vegas, where they’re both fish out of water. Donovan witches are very connected to nature and not very connected to the more materialistic aspects of mainstream human culture. Duals (my take on shape-shifters) simply don’t like cities, where their animalsides feel confined and they’re more likely to have trouble from the repressive Agency. But what if Paul and Tag had to be in Las Vegas for some good reason? Say, to catch a magical serial killer?

And so the book was born.

PS: Stop by my blog, https://www.teresanoelleroberts.com, and leave a comment on the CONTEST! Win a Copy of Fox’s Folly for—you guessed it—a chance to win a copy of the book.

What happens in Vegas lasts forever…if you’re lucky.

A Duals and Donavans story

Las Vegas is the wrong place for an inexperienced witch like Paul Donavan. But he has no choice; his family owes a debt of honor to a half-fae casino owner, whose guests have been dying under mysterious circumstances. The normy police haven’t connected the dots between the deaths, and the owner has called in his marker.

When Paul literally runs into fox dual Taggart Ross, the instant, powerful attraction between them bristles with red flags. Not only should there be no sparks between him and this “hillbilly with a tail,” the fact is a dual couldn’t have committed murder-by-magic. But until he’s got proof, caution rules.

Tag’s own suspicions are on high alert. Magic killed his favorite uncle, and Paul, who senses Tag’s dual nature way too easily, should be a prime suspect. Except Tag’s libido responds to the witch in a way that shouldn’t happen.

Whatever this thing is between them, the raw sexual energy feeds a power that becomes their best hope of drawing out the killer before he, she, or it strikes again. Until love gets involved, and things get real complicated, real fast…

“I think we’re here for the same reason. Does the name Randolph-Macon McNeil mean anything to you?”

“One of the five people who’ve died under mysterious circumstances lately at the Excalibur. Sixty-two, professional gambler, fox dual…” He spoke dispassionately, as if reciting facts from a report. Then he paused, and a look of horror crossed his face “Was he family, Tag? I’m so sorry…”

“My uncle. I’m here to find out who the fuck killed him and take him down hard.”

“No, you won’t. We will.” Paul’s voice was soft and professorial, but something in his tone made the words ring in the air with the force of an oath before the gods.

“Really? Do you mean that?” Tag tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, but that wasn’t the fox way. He was tough, tougher than most, but he’d loved his uncle.

And he hated to admit it, but he needed all the help he could get. He’d gotten into this figuring he’d find the killer and then call in reinforcements, but if Uncle Randolph was the fifth victim, and a fae had asked for help dealing with it, Tag needed magic, not just muscle. “Really?” he repeated, feebly aware he should be saying something wittier but unable to make his brain work at proper speed.

“Really. I got drafted to do this. For you, it’s personal. Hearth, heart and home fuel magic. We’ll be stronger together than we are alone. And you look like you shouldn’t be alone.”

The next thing Tag knew, Paul’s arms were around him.

Damn, Paul could kiss, and his hands, even when they weren’t touching anywhere Tag would normally consider an erogenous zone, sent heat through Tag’s body. Maybe it was magic, or maybe the guy was just that talented. At this point, Tag didn’t care. All he really cared about was seeing how long they could go without thinking about dead people and just focusing on sex, or at least the yummy preliminaries to sex.

Tag was fumbling with the buttons on Paul’s dress shirt—too formal by comparison to what everyone else seemed to wear in Las Vegas, almost silky under his hands although it was cotton—when someone knocked at the door. “Housekeeping always shows up at the worst times,” Paul muttered before throwing himself into kissing Tag so thoroughly that Tag forgot not only the persistent knock on the door but the day of the week and the reason he was in Las Vegas. He was working up to forgetting his name when the door opened, and a man walked into the room.

About men—my favorite characters in erotic romance

There’s erotic romance written for women about men, and erotica written with an eye toward attracting male readers.

What’s the difference? Somebody asked this question on a list recently and I had to think seriously about the answer.

I’ve given it a lot of thought and come up with an answer based on the fact that I write a good many of my erotic romances with male protagonists. These heroes drive the external story lines—that is, the plot is driven by what they want, why they want it and what is preventing them from reaching their original goals. In many of my books, much of the story is shown from the hero’s point of view rather than the heroine’s, even when the heroine is the protagonist.

So why don’t the hero-driven books I write fit the requirements of a line called “Erotica for Men?” One would think on the surface that male readers would gravitate toward my hero-driven books , but this isn’t necessarily true.

Why, you ask?

Because, when I write a hero-driven book, I create his character with the idea of luring my female readers to fall in love with him, and this doesn’t necessarily mean male readers will identify with this man who’s more a woman’s ideal of what her lover should be than a man’s thought about what he sees or wants to see in himself.

In contrast with erotica written for male readers, my heroes tend to be more understanding of their lovers’ emotional ups and downs. They behave, in other words, the way most women readers would like their fantasy men to act—not the way their real-life lovers likely do.

In a nutshell, erotic romance/erotica written for male readers presents male characters as men see themselves, female characters as men fantasize them to be. Books written to appeal to female readers are just the opposite—heroes the readers would love to find but don’t expect and heroines they can identify with.

That’s my take on the subject. What do you think? Like and post on my Facebook page and you may win a download of your choice of my seventy-some-odd ebooks.

Ann Jacobs
https://annjacobs.net
Like me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AnnJacobsAuthor
Follow me on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/authrannjacobs

LOVERS’ FEUD, book 1 of my Caden Kink series, new this month from Ellora’s Cave

The winner of yesterday’s One-Day-Only Contest for a free download of any Lone Star Lovers story is…Jennifer! Jennifer, be sure to email me with your choice of story!

Since I didn’t accomplish a whole lot last week, I’m skipping my Sunday Report Card. Too depressing!!! Instead, I’ll offer you a question…

If you could become fully enlightened instantly on any one subject,
which subject would you choose? Think Neo entering The Matrix.
What “plug-in” app would give you the most satisfaction?

I’m on my way this morning with my sister, Myla Jackson, to attend the Diamond State Romance Authors meeting. Another kind of family meeting from the one you’ll read below! The Logans lives change from this pivotal moment when they come to a decision as a group. Has your family ever had one of those “pivotal” moments?

Post a comment today and win a free download of your choice of Lone Star Lovers stories!

“A FOUR-GONE CONCLUSION is a prime example on how a novella should be written; fast and fun, touching characters that pull you in and a story that is completely fulfilling.”

~ 4.5 Cherries, Long and Short Reviews

One devilish night…or a chance at heaven?

Sam Logan’s foster sons have a bad rep in Two Mule, Texas. Most of it earned. When it becomes clear they don’t plan on giving up scootin’ after ever pretty pair of boots in town anytime soon, he issues the one thing he knows they can’t resist: a challenge. Find a wife.

The oldest, Johnny, is actually grateful. He’s had his eye on Mean Ellie Harker for a long time, and Sam’s challenge is the kick in the pants he needed to ask her out. Except before he can make his move, his brothers kidnap her right out from under his nose. Now, instead of being one question away from victory, he has to compete for the woman of his dreams.

Ellie thought she’d be a dried up old spinster before Johnny finally untangled his tongue long enough to ask for a date. But instead of teaching him better uses for that tongue, his brothers have whisked her away to the ranch. At first she’s furious…then intrigued when she starts to wonder what it might be like…

Warning: Four handsome cowboys. Four choices. Would it be a single sordid night or a chance at heaven as she savors every luscious inch of the Logan brothers?

“It’s time you boys found yerselves a wife.” Sam Logan made his pronouncement then waited, watching the four younger men seated at the table from the corner of his eye. He didn’t have to wait long for his words to sink in. They exploded in the room with the force of a silent grenade.

Johnny’s jaw closed with a snap, and he laid his spoon down on the scarred oak table. His black winged brows drew together, nearly meeting over his dark eyes as he raised his head.

Sam suppressed a smile. That look could make the toughest hombre gulp, but Sam wasn’t the least bit concerned. Johnny tended to look mean when things changed. His oldest boy hated any kind of change.

If any other man had said what he had, Johnny would have cussed under his breath and aimed a piercing, silencing glare. However, he respected Sam, trusted him as much as he could anyone. That trust and respect were the only things that kept his butt on the bench beside his brother Killian.

For his part, Killian’s eyes narrowed. The corners of his lips twitched. Likely he was amused by Johnny’s reaction and didn’t want to let him off the hook too quickly, but was already lining up all the reasons why Sam’s idea was ludicrous. He was quick that way.

Sam calmly ladled the hearty stew he’d made into his mouth and let his gaze roam to the twins. Jason was coughing into his napkin while Mace gave him “helpful” taps between his shoulder blades.

Mace caught his stare and grinned. “A wife, did you say?”

Sam grunted, ignoring the one word that had caught his son’s attention. “This is the third time this week we’ve had stew,” he murmured. Not to change the subject, but to point out a glaring fact.

“I like stew just fine,” Johnny muttered.

“This house misses a woman’s touch.” There, he’d said it. Sat the big gorilla in the room right at the dinner table. Impossible to ignore.

“Gracie can’t be replaced,” Killian said softly.

The permanent ache next to his heart echoed that truth. Sam nodded. “She’s gone. Three years. I miss her every day. Know you do too. But life goes on. You’re men now. You have an obligation. Ranchin’s a family business. Y’all need families.”

Johnny cleared his throat. “No disrespect intended, Sam, but you didn’t get sons the old-fashioned way.”

“Not because Gracie and I didn’t try. And in the end, we had no regrets. We both loved you all like you was our own.”

“So, you’d rather saddle us with—”

Sam aimed a quelling stare. “Think I felt like Gracie was a noose around my neck?”

“No sir, but…” Johnny’s hands fisted on the tabletop. “Hell, how’re we to find someone like her?”

Sam understood what he meant. Gracie’s passing had left a hole in all their hearts. The boys had loved her. Took to her the very first day he’d brought each of them home. Gracie had been born to be a mother, and she’d showered them all with the things they’d needed most—acceptance and unconditional love.

“Boys, Gracie wasn’t born a rancher’s wife. Truth is, she didn’t know a bull from a cow and damn near poisoned me with the first meals she cooked. But she learned. Find a woman willin’ to learn, one you kin love and who’ll love you back.”

“You said, ‘a wife’.” Mace wasn’t gonna let that slip of the tongue go.

Sam shook his head and gave the twins a faint glimmer of a smile. Those two could always see the humor in any predicament. “Thought I’d give you two options. I know one can’t piss without the other goin’ too. And there are damn few single women to go around these parts. ’Nough said?” When all of them nodded, he cleared his throat. “I’ll be out of town for the next four days. Auction in Abilene. The house is yours.”

Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:

Megan Hart:Read in bed!
Leah Braemel
Jody Wallace
Eliza Gayle
Mandy M Roth
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Shiloh Walker
HelenKay Dimon
Lauren Dane
TJ Michaels