For those who don’t know, my sister and I co-founded a website for writers called Rose’s Colored Glasses. From that site, we run a critique group, issue a quarterly writerly newsletter and provide workshops—some for free and some for pay. In January, we will be leading a month-long online plotting bootcamp. How’s our workshop different from every other one out there? We provide feedback and brainstorming every step of the way. We are so good at it that we have many authors return again and again for help with their new Works-in-Progress.

Here’s a description of the class. January is a great time to take on a new challenge and a new book. Join us if you can!

Your DIs (Drill Instructors): Elle James and Delilah Devlin

Dates: January 3—January 30, 2010

Cost: $35.00—cheap, considering everything you get!

What you can look forward to during Plotting Bootcamp?

Learn a methodical approach to harness your creativity in order to produce an in-depth plot for your next novel! Sound scary? It is-when you’re staring at an empty page without a compass and a map to guide you through the novelistic jungle. Your DIs will lead you through four weeks of activities that will help strengthen your abilities to: capture the conflicts, the major plot line and subplots; deepen your knowledge of your characters; and conceive of and develop an in-depth, by-chapter description of your book. Elle and Delilah will accomplish this with weekly lessons, bi-weekly chats and daily online communication. Be ready for bivouac!

Interested? Follow this link to sign up: Rose’s Plotting Bootcamp

Okay, that’s the end of my promo. The bootcamp is intense and fun. And you will learn something new or reinforce knowledge you already have! Guaranteed!

Our mom drew the picture for our site, morphing my sister and I into “Rose”.

My only Christmas story to date, and of course it’s about a vampire. The short story was written in 2005 when Hurricane Katrina was still weighing heavily on everyone’s mind.

Enjoy the snippet. And Happy Holiday!

In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Noelle Moyaux questions her gift of sight until a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger sets her on a path to save his soul.

Magnus Thornton is a millennium-old vampire who has found evidence of an old foe’s evil at work in the demolished city of New Orleans. Weary of the fight, he decides to greet the coming dawn after a night reveling in his favorite things–a bottle of Bordeaux and a willing woman.

Noelle seems the answer, but she quickly creeps into his heart-the vampire, so jaded from life he never speaks, must now persuade Noelle to flee the city before it’s too late.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Noelle Moyaux flicked off the battery-powered Christmas lights that ringed her metal cart, folded her purple tablecloth into a small tidy square and tucked it and the folding table inside the cart before latching the lid closed.

She wheeled the cart across the busy street and waved to her friend Gerard, the owner of a small Cajun restaurant. Continuing around the back of the eatery, she stowed her palmistry kiosk in the storage unit she’d rented from Gerard since before the troubles.

Today’s earnings were slim, despite the unseasonably warm weather that allowed the thin-blooded residents of the city to roam the streets in light jackets. No one believed in a future amid the chaos—and some questioned her ability since she’d received no divination of the coming catastrophe. Indeed, Noelle questioned her gift daily as she sat beneath her umbrella in front of the embroidered cloth advertising “Noelle’s News”.

If not for the little nest egg of money she’d saved from substitute teaching before the flood, she’d be in dire straits.

Clutching her purse close to her side, she headed down the street toward home.

One last night. One last chance to lose myself in The Hunger, a fine glass of wine and the body of a willing woman. Before my last sunrise—the first I will see in nearly a thousand years…

Noelle heard the quiet, fleeting thought as she passed through the crowd ambling along Bourbon Street and spun to find the owner. The inner voice that accompanied the thought was masculine and raspy. Added to the familiar spark of connection when her skin had brushed against his was a wash of the blackest melancholy she’d ever sensed. It nearly drowned her in despair.
Read the rest of this entry »

I’m there talking about holiday plans. Drop by, if you can, to share yours! ~DD
The link: Access Romance

I’m late posting, but the drama’s done for the day.

This morning we buried little Karmen.

My daughter, who’s as much of a night owl as I am, called me over for a cup of Barry’s tea last night. We sat on the stoop and watched the little dog as she did her business. We lost sight of her in the shadows next to the fence. When we got up to call her back, I saw her in front of the gate at the driveway. As I headed back into the house for my shoes to chase after her, I heard a truck barreling down the road. It was midnight. I’m sure we woke the neighbors calling after our little dog who had never, ever approached the road before. My daughter checked around the house while I headed straight for the road with a flashlight, heart in my mouth. I saw a shadow. Hoped that was all it was. But the closer I got, I recognized her little bat ears (she was half French Bulldog, half chihuahua) and the pretty little purple sweater she wore. She lay on her side in the center of the road, her belly split. Entrails spilling out. I know. TMI. But I can’t get the sight out of my head. I wanted to spare my daughter, but she was right behind me as I kept saying, “No, no, no.”

I picked up the remains, grasping Karmen at the scruff of the neck. She’d died instantly. That much was a blessing. We placed her in a box until this morning. Then my father dug a grave. A very small grave.

Karmen was a rescue dog. She’d been found in a shed with two hundred other dogs, living in a small cage with a foot of feces pushed against the sides. She’d been in four rescue homes before she found my daughter who had the patience to potty train her. She was the happiest, sweetest dog. We’ll miss her. I don’t think either of us could feel more regret, more guilt. Nor can we stop crying.

Very quickly, let me close out the last of the Cat Tails contests. The winner is announced at the bottom of this post.

I have my marching orders. I know what has to happen next in the story. Thanks for all your help! ~DD

Five days until Bottoms Up!

Coming from Samhain Publishing on December 28th
Pre-order at Amazon
Or Barnes and Noble

Whip me, beat me… feed me!

What’s my kink? Heroes who cook. Give me an alpha in the bedroom who can also serve it up in the kitchen, and I am a happy woman. And a generous woman. I let Destiny Blake, my heroine in Bottoms Up experience this special joy, too. As a sexual Dominant, Destiny isn’t used to letting a man call the shots, but when Dominant bartender Johnny Delcorral challenges her to submit to him for one night, she discovers he’s got skills to spare—and share—in the kitchen, the bedroom and the playroom. One night with him has her begging for more.

Excerpt:

“Sit down.” He pulled her down next to him on the couch, settling her so that her side was pressed against the length of his body. They faced the huge wall screen, now dark. It felt right to be sitting next to him while he fed her bites of cheese and bread with butter. Bizarrely date-like.

“Comic books, huh?” she teased.

“We all have our thing.” His smile was brief. “I need a minute to get dinner on the table.”

He stood and she watched him go into the kitchen, admiring the stretch of his tight black T-shirt across the breadth of his shoulders and the way his slightly frayed black jeans fit his ass. His feet were bare. He seemed comfortable cooking, comfortable having her there.

Perversely, she was uncomfortable. The food smelled great, garlicky and cheesy, but she’d been a walking orgasm waiting to happen since she woke up this afternoon and the ride downtown on her motorcycle had been…interesting, to say the least. Now he was making her wait, and that was making her cranky.

She followed him into the kitchen. “Johnny?”

“Yes?” He stirred the boiling pot of pasta.

“I want to come.”

“How bad?” He didn’t turn around.

“What, like on a scale of one to ten?”

“Sure.”

“About a seven.” She put her hands on her hips.

“You can wait.” He drained the pasta into a colander in the sink and put a large frying pan onto the stove. Fresh tomatoes, basil and a pile of grated Parmesan waited on a cutting board next to the sink.

“I could have taken care of myself at home, you know,” Destiny said.

“Now that would have been a shame.” Heady garlic filled the kitchen as he sautéed it in oil. He added wine to the pan and let it simmer, then added a big chunk of butter. Her mouth began to water again. Next came the pasta, then the basil, tomatoes and cheese.

“I didn’t know you were planning on playing hard to get.” Maybe she would masturbate right here, standing in the middle of his kitchen. That would show him. She fingered the button of her jeans.

His sly glance intercepted her gesture. “Don’t even think about it. I like thinking about you soaking your panties while we’re eating dinner. Are you wet for me, Destiny?”

“Maybe.”

“Show me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I have a confession to make: I married a chef. Gotta keep my kink well fed, right? *giggle* Do you have a thing for heroes who cook, too? Or have you ever had a memorable meal with a lover? Please share!

If you need some inspiration, I’ve been posting aphrodisiac recipes on my blog (https://mirandabaker.wordpress.com) the entire month of December. Perhaps a little Naughty Hottie Chocolate will hit your spot. Let me know how it works out…

For a chance to win the first author copy of Bottoms Up, enter my contest at (www.mirandabaker.com/Lucky_Pick.html).
Or find me on Facebook or Twitter (@Miranda_Baker) if you just want to chat.

Big thanks to Delilah for letting me kick off my blog tour on her site! Bottoms Up is my first ever release, and I’m really excited about it. It’s the first in a series, appropriately titled Come Again. The second story, SoloPlay, will be released in the spring. I plan to keep the party going for a while, so Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Bottoms Up!

The winner of the Cat Tails poll #3 contest is…Susan R! Susan R, congratulations and email me the email address where you would like the certificate sent!

Wanna know what makes me cry? The old Hallmark commercials for sure. But I received something last night that hit me right at my core. I’m a storyteller. It’s what I do, but it’s also what I am. I work damn hard. Sure, I get to wear jammies and sweats and my office is just feet away from where I sleep. That doesn’t sound so tough, right? Well, sometimes it really is. When I wrote Ravished by a Viking, there were so many factors I didn’t have control over. The cover—I mean, what’s with the kilt? The print run. It’s not nearly large enough to impress. My publisher’s support. Well, since I’m new to Berkley, I’m kinda on my own. What I did have control over was the story. And it came straight from my heart. Back to what I received last night…

I opened my email to my first review. What touched me was that the reviewer knew what I accomplished was damn hard. And she got it. All of it. I’m including the whole review here, but it’s posted on her website too, Alien Places.

Ravished by a Viking

a novel by Delilah Devlin
Reviewed by Masha Holl

Clash of cultures, clash of myths, clash of powerful personalities: it should be easy to review Ravished by a Viking, a novel of erotic science fiction by Delilah Devlin. After all, how many authors can bring out on paper the excitement and more-than-willing suspension of disbelief that old fashioned adventure stories once brought us?

A kidnapped brother. A battle of wills between a ship’s captain and a planetary warlord. On one side, human colonists toughened by the harsh environment they’ve mastered, and who still praise and reward sheer physical strength. On the other, a galactic empire used to relying on the power of energy weapons and science.

And in the middle, our heroes. Men, women, wills and desires. Dagr, Clan-leader of the Wolfskins, who only looks like an unpolished barbarian. And Honora Turgay, who loses her ship to the Viking leader, but never surrenders her determination.

Ravished by a Viking is a myth come to life, but it’s also the story of two people: adventure, passion, discovery, transformation. All of Delilah’s scenes burn with energy, whether she writes believable, exciting, and heart-pounding action scenes, or scorching, breath-stealing, and enviable sexual encounters.

Yes, it should be easy to review one of Delilah Devlin’s stories, because each one of them delivers the promise of a great read, abundant humor, and larger-than-life characters. Delilah is a born storyteller, and knows how to build the tension on all levels, entwining sensual conquest with a growing friendship between the main characters, slowly turning what could become redundant sniping into clever flirting. And most importantly, she always surprises the reader – and sometimes the characters themselves.

But a reviewer should also announce to the reader what to expect beyond the open cover. Is it a romance? Of course, and I’ll say no more. But that would leave out the cleverly built and logical world of space-travel and alien societies her characters inhabit.

Is is science fiction? Of course. We have space-travel and ancient civilizations and the kind of questions science-fiction authors like to ask. But that would leave out the intense relationships between the characters.

Is it erotica? Oh yes, with scenes as hot and intense as Delilah can write, as charged emotionally as they are physically, it has to be. But that would leave out the character development and the world building and the tight plotting.

Yes, it was hard to write a review of Ravished by a Viking when the story speaks for itself you’re ready to re-read rather than write about it. But if I didn’t, you wouldn’t hear about it, and you’d miss a wonderful, action-packed, emotional roller-coaster of a read.

Psst! Today’s the last day to enter the Cat Tails Poll #3 contest! See Saturday’s post for details!

I know you have those books on your keeper shelf. The ones whose heroes make you hot and purr every time you open the pages and sink into that man. From my keeper shelf there are two heroes I most love.

First, there’s Wolf from Makenzie’s Mountain by Linda Howard. He’s so primal, so intense I melt from the very first line of the story—“He needed a woman. Bad.” He’s native american with a dark mysterious past. And yet he has a son he’s fiercely protective of. Yum!

Then there’s Challen-Ly-San-ter from Johanna Lindsey’s Warrior Woman—Seven feet of studliness and an other world male. So you know the author had license to make him the biggest, the baddest and the sexiest man alive.

Then there are the heroes I’ve personally written. Of my own heroes, whom you might already have read from my books, I would have been most attracted to the following:

Gunnar from Darkness Captured. I love smoldering intensity and a man’s man. Gunnar will save his princess or die. And once he has her, he’s not going to let her say no. Grrrrr….add a little fur (he is a werewolf) and there’s nothing sexier—to me.

Ezra Kinzie from Four Sworn and Breaking Leather. He’s built like a god (I like them big and burly). And his focus is homed with precision on his woman. The fact he’s got to be in charge of every sexual encounter is a huge plus.

You haven’t had a chance to read Ravished by a Viking yet, but my Viking king Dagr, the leader of the Wolfskin clan, would sit well on this list. Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll introduce you to Dagr and his universe. I think you’ll fall in love. In the meantime…

Tell me which heroes you’ve written or read you’d most like to do. (They don’t have to be mine. I’m a reader too and am always looking for suggestions!)