Hi all. I’m really glad to be here today. Thanks, Delilah for having me as a guest. Be sure to leave a comment because at the end of the day I’ll pick a name for a free ebook. ~Desiree

They live in Texas and they wear cowboy boots, but they aren’t ranchers. Nope, they build ranches. And a lot of other things, from houses to major developments. They are the McMann brothers—Alex with a masters in business administration, Josh with an advanced degree in architecture, and Tyler, the civil and construction engineer. Each one is better looking than his brothers and they cut a wide swath through the eligible women in San Antonio.

In Erector Set, you will meet each of them and learn his story.

First out of the gate is Erected, Josh’s story with Vanessa “Ness” Bowen.

Who can resist a pint-sized female with luscious curves stranded in a parking lot? Not Josh McMann. It’s his pleasure to save Ness Bowen, especially given the instant sensual chemistry that explodes between them. When she wrecks her car on the way to meet him for dinner, he saves her once again. And dinner at home takes on a whole new meaning as the sexual pull becomes too strong for either to ignore. The more they see each other, the more intense and erotic the sex becomes.

But Ness sees Josh as a player, and she’s been dumped by men like him who were always looking for the next conquest. Josh has his own trust issues, having been burned by women interested only in his money and power.

When a breakfast date goes awry and Ness thinks she’s been dumped once again, it takes a lot of fancy maneuvering from Josh to make amends.

“Yeah, hi,” he said when a male voice answered. “This is Josh McCann. Did you guys tow a…” He looked at Ness.

“White BMW,” she told him. “With navy interior. One day old,” she added, anxiety edging her voice.

Josh repeated the information into the phone. “Okay, thanks. Uh huh. Hold on.” He pressed a button on his phone, pulled out a slim stylus and wrote something down. “Got it. We’ll take care of it.”

He disconnected and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

“Well?” Ness looked to be more in control of herself even with anxiety written all over her face.

“They towed it. About an hour ago.” He looked at her curiously. “Were you in the restaurant? Why didn’t you give it to the valet?”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Because I’ve already had one car demolished a couple of weeks ago and I was hoping to last another twenty four hours before getting a second one dinged. I thought it would be a lot safer here.”

“Were you in there with friends?” He felt like he was digging the information out of her. “Where did they go? Can one of them take you to get your car?”

She sighed, fiddling with her hair again. “It was a business dinner. I can’t ask a client to take me to pick up my car that got towed. Anyway, he’s gone.”

“Not friends. A client.”

He looked at her cast then back at her face, one eyebrow raised.

She straightened her shoulders, trying to make herself taller. “My broken ankle has nothing to do with my ability to conduct business. I don’t talk with my foot.”

Josh swallowed a smile.

“Well, that kind of leaves you in a predicament, doesn’t it?”

She did that straightening thing with her body again, as if somehow she’d grow another six inches. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Really.” She clearly put as much indignation into the words as she could. She needed to get her game face back on.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Besides, I’ve bothered you enough. I’ll just go on into the restaurant and they can call a taxi for me.”

She turned and began to clump her way back down the sidewalk, shoving his handkerchief in her pocket.

“Hold it.” Josh reached out to take her arm. “Hold it a minute, will you? You don’t need a cab. I’ll take you. And it’s really not a bother.”

How many times had he said that in his life?

Find me at www.desireeholttellsall.com, Twitter @desireeholt and Facebook /desireeholt.

Thanks to the marvelous Delilah Devlin for hosting me today!

Let me be the first to admit that I have a hard time sticking to one genre.

Oh, my three books are erotic historical romances, but they are, in order, 1) a Dickensian alternate history of the invention of the vibrator, 2) a straight-up Regency set almost entirely in a brothel, and 3) a story about a dead lord, in Hell, who falls in love with the demoness in charge of his punishment. So we’ve got an erotic steampunk romance, an erotic historical, and an erotic historical fantasy romance (for which I’m currently working on a sequel).

And that doesn’t even begin to count the many half-finished and mostly-plotted ideas I’m working on behind the scenes. The young adult fantasy with yetis, Finnish magic, and the Arabian Nights. The Australian love-potion romance. The psychic noir. The fantasy adventure trilogy that starts in the Roman Empire, jumps to medieval France, and ends in Victorian London. The contemporary karaoke romance, or the time-travel romance epic fantasy, or the steampunk space opera menage with bonus sexy robots and squidshifters.

Someone—I’m sure they meant well—once told me to write the books you’d like to read. I want to read all of these stories. I want more crazy westerns and science fiction romance and more historical fantasy—oh, how lucky we live at a time when historical fantasy is coming into its own! I want to read genres that don’t even have names yet! I want more books like Zoe Archer’s Blades of the Rose, or Isabel Cooper’s No Proper Lady, both of which I cannot recommend highly enough.

My own books—Generous Fire, Hearts and Harbingers, and Damned if You Do—are definitely unusual, but they’re only a step or two outside the borders. I want to plunge headlong into the wilderness.

My question for you today is: do you have a favorite genre?
Or do you hop around Romancelandia, like me?

Psychics and Seduction

Ladies, I will be rich and sell many books and win tons of money and have love. Bethea and other physics said so. Really. Cool, huh?

Bethea emailed me one evening and said she awoke from a sound sleep thinking about me. She was dreaming about me, yeah, me. I thought for a minute she knew something I didn’t, maybe that I was naked and… Nope, she saw me deliriously happy with all the money I could want, even better. She saw me in love, too, with the perfect man. Now I don’t know about you, but that sounded wonderful to me!

Hmmm, I wonder, why would she dreamed about me, when we’ve never met. She promised me what most of us want, security and love. These seductive promises have been luring folks to fortunetellers and psychics forever.

This woman is good! She has offered me a FREE session and other beautiful totems, some even ancient relics. Well, actually, I can pay for them and she will refund my money if I am not thrilled. She said there were angels watching over me, druid priestesses wanting to help me, and she herself has cast spells for me. BUT there are evil forces keeping me from having the riches I deserve. Well, damn!

BUT, if I send her money to cast a bigger, more powerful spell, she will send me a pendant, or a bracelet, or a statue, or a rearview mirror charm for my car for only $19.99, or $29.99 or $39.99. Hmm, that doesn’t sound free.

Marie the Magnificent, my own personal fortuneteller, said that if I do this, Bethea will have my money and my credit card info, and I won’t EVER see a penny of it, even if I complain. MM suggested that if she had mentioned selling books, we might be inclined to believe her.

Why do I even read these emails? Because I enjoy seeing the predictions that I will have money for all the things I need (maybe a boy toy or three?), that all will be well in the future.

Now, I have a prediction for you. I see you reading Haunting Refrain, a book about a love story in the past and one in the present. Yes, I see you reading the love scenes and sighing or grabbing someone on whom you can try the sexy stuff. I see you straddling a handsome man in the front seat of a Mustang, with the driver’s seat reclined as far back as it will go. I see you riding that man and moaning with….. You can write the rest.

Tell me what you think about psychics and fortunetellers or a story about an experience with one, and you can will a free download of Haunting Refrain. I’ll give away 2 downloads.

You can buy the ebook for 99 cents before March 1. You can also return it if you hate it.
Buy at Amazon
Buy at Smashwords
Buy at Barnes & Noble

“The train wreck of my life boards in an hour. Can’t be late.”
– Megan Carlton, Private Scandal

I love quotes. On Pinterest I have a whole board of them. I love when someone has solidified a feeling so perfectly in words. And who doesn’t love a one-liner?

“Dreams aren’t real until you make them happen.”
– Heather Tindall, Her Cinderella Complex

One of my favorite things to do when procrastinating is checking out what people highlight on their Kindle for my books. Shelfari has an Extras function where I can see which lines resonated with readers. Knowing I connected to a reader in that way makes me think I’ve done my job.

“Love. It is an incredible sensation. An amazing gift. All consuming and yet as light as a whisper. Once you’ve been in love you don’t ever want to find yourself out of it.”
– Lance Strong, Compromising Positions

Most of the time I like it that way, but every once in a while it’s nice to look over and see that I connected with someone, even if only for the length of that one line. I told them a story that they liked enough to find quotable. Or highlightable for the Kindle folk.

* * *

Jenna has new releases for both traditional and e-readers. For Kicks, her business-trip-turns-sexy book, came out a few weeks ago in all ebook formats. Private Scandal, her heiress-makes-her-ex-pay story is available for hand holding now. For more about Jenna Bayley-Burke, check out her website, blog, Twitter (@jennabb), or Pinterest — but her Pinterest has nothing to do with author Jenna, so she cannot be held responsible for pinning addictions!

The Writing Process

The Writing Process. It sounds so…ominous. And important. And honestly, I have no idea what exactly it means. What IS a writing “process,” anyway? Is it like…processing cheese, or what?

The obvious answer is, of course, that nope. Writing is nothing like making cheese. At least I assume so, since I’ve never actually made cheese, at least not on purpose. There were a few times when the milk got left out in strange places and we ended up with SOMETHING in the bottom of the cup that looked a lot like cottage cheese…Hmmm. Come to think of it, maybe the writing process is a lot like that, after all.

You put a bunch of stuff in the cup, and you let it sit in a strange place until it curdles and becomes something else.

Like magic!

For me, all books or stories start with a big WHAT IF. Sometimes these are random and meaningless and never turn into anything good. Sometimes I think they’re the best ideas, ever, but they turn out not to sustain a full plot. Other times, these WHAT IF moments are tiny sparks that seem like nothing and turn out to be some of my all-time favorites. TEMPTED started out that way. Just the kernel of an idea — a man in love with his best friend…AND the best friend’s wife. How would that work out? To this day, Tempted is the book I wrote the fastest. It was like a roller coaster. I got on it every morning and I wrote and wrote and wrote, and by the end of the day I was still interested in the ride.

Other times, it’s not so easy. ALL FALL DOWN came about with an idea about what happens to the people who are left behind when  a cult implodes. I had a lot of ideas about how the story would go. Who’d be important in it. Subplots. Introspection. As I wrote it, though, the core of the story became more apparent and more important. The ideas I’d had about what being in a cult would mean became streamlined, and I’ll confess, I found a place in which I understood why someone would want to go back to a life most people would consider horrifying and strange, how our “normal” could be terrifying to someone without the ability to process it.

So, I guess that’s my writing process. Start with an idea and stir it up with a bunch of other stuff. See what sticks. Watch what comes out of it. Add different ingredients and let them ferment. Sometimes, boy, do they ever stink. But sometimes what comes out is ambrosia!

If I wanted to explore the idea of a writing process further, I’d have to admit that I do have a technical process. I sit at my computer (or less often, some other location) and I write. I write some more. I break for Twitter and email and instant message and Facebook. I write more. Then some more. When I’m done with that part, I print it out and go over it a few times, making changes. I enter them into my computer document. I read it again. Then again. I tweak and polish and change until I’m satisfied. I listen to music while I write. I drink Coke Zero and coffee and hot tea and pink lemonade. I don’t often switch things up like some writers I know who write in longhand or change their location or work on different projects. My technical process is pretty simple. I sit down. I write. I edit. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Somehow, it seems like it should be more magical than that. Something with elves or something. Fairy dust. Billowing white curtains and ivory candles, my muse trilling gently in my ear while the words trip one by one from my fingertips onto the page…

Now THAT would be a process!

Writers — do you have a process?

Readers — do you have an idea of what a writer’s process is like, or has the internet and posts like this ruined the idea of us slaving away in our garrets by candelight, swilling wine and whiskey and dancing to the tune of invisible voices?

To learn more about me and my work, please visit www.meganhart.com.

I’ve guested on the great Delilah’s blog several times now, but this is the first time I haven’t had a specific book to promote. Oh sure, I have upcoming releases, but no release dates, blurbs, or excerpts. So I thought this might be a good opportunity to “introduce” myself to you all. Instead of just blabbing about my books, I can blab about myself. Just the fun stuff, though.

For instance:

* I didn’t lose my virginity until I was 19. Does that sound strange for an erotic romance writer? Does it help that …

* I read my first erotica at age 10. That gave me years to fantasize before actually doing the deed.

So back to the virginity thing: I was in college, and totally in love with my boyfriend. We consummated our all-consuming passion, and I assumed we’d get married. Or at least move off-campus together. Later, when he dumped me and broke my heart, I had bitter regrets about making him my first. But I finally had something to write about in my journal, so it was all good.

* About that journal … I have stacks of them, but when I read them over, I notice one strange thing. I seem to have only written in my diary when sobbing over a boy. There are huge, years-long gaps during which, I assume, I was perfectly happy and had no need to vent to a sympathetic notebook. But anyone, reading them, would assume I was an angst-ridden drama queen who fell in love at the drop of a hat.

* I got my first pair of glasses at the age of 9. As I got older, I wanted contact lenses more than I wanted to live, but my parents refused to “encourage vanity.” Guess what my first purchase was when I went off to college? Yep. After the contacts came the guy, the virginity loss, the heartbreak … hm, maybe my parents had a point.

On the other hand, there was that journaling thing … Even though I wasn’t at all consistent in my journal entries, they served a purpose. They got me in the habit of writing to work things out. Whether it was sex or heartbreak, it all went into that journal. Today, it goes into my writing.

* I still get a charge out of seeing the word “cock.” Why is that? I don’t know! As many times as I’ve read it and written it, it still carries that thrilling tingle of the forbidden. Is it just me?

* I had strict parents who cared about my academic performance much more than my social life. Despite that, for me college was a chance to break free, to flirt, to fall in love, to have sex, to experience heartbreak, to really live for the first time. And when it all got too much, I had my journal. (Though I don’t think I wrote the word “cock” until much later.)

So there you have it, me in a nutshell. Journal + sex + heartbreak – glasses + cock – parental control = Juniper Bell, erotic romance author. Nice to meet you!

Juniper Bell’s next release, Beautiful Obsession, takes place at a college, includes diary entries, and features many, many instances of the word “cock.” It’s coming soon from Ellora’s Cave. You can connect with her at her website, on Facebook, or on Twitter as AuthorJuniper.

Do you keep a journal? What sorts of things do you write about?

I’m horribly behind, but wanted to stop in and say that Maria D. is the winner of the free copy of CAPTIVE HEART by Phoebe Conn! I’ll post new contest news tonight!
Maria, email me to arrange delivery of your prize! ~DD

Be Like a Groundhog
or “What To Do After the Resolution”

I’m sure by now, the grim reality of the year has set in. The blush of New Year’s Day and its resolutions has worn off and we settle down to the drudgery of the daily round.

But should we?

Ground Hog Day tells us that if the ground hog sees its shadow when it’s sunny, another six weeks of winter are here; if he doesn’t, Spring will come early. But if you look at the calendar, there are six more weeks of winter anyway. So what does this mean for us and our resolutions?

First, if there is more than one resolution, get rid of them. Pick one. Make it your favorite, or the most important, or pick a random number out of a bag. That is your focus for the next six weeks.

Then, like the ground hog, go back to sleep.

No, I’m serious. Well, okay, don’t go right to sleep if it’s the middle of the day, but relax. Six weeks is a long time in which to accomplish a goal, and you need all the energy you can. We still have to pay the bills, go to work, do the laundry, etc.

Then, like the ground hog, just focus on your daily round. If your goal is exercise, incorporate that into your daily round. Write it in your planner, and decide when you’re going to the gym or for a walk. If your resolution is eating differently, then write a menu plan and do your grocery shopping. If it’s to write more, set your word count goal. A steady thousand words a day is achievable and can fit into a busy life, so do that: fit it in. Get up a half hour early. Use your lunch break. Write while the kids are in school or down for a nap.

And remember to rest. I think a large part of why resolutions fail is not because people are lazy, or don’t want them, but because we try too hard and can’t sustain the effort long-term. So throw all that out and do it like a ground hog.

Happy Ground Hog Day (After)

A. Catherine Noon and Rachel Wilder
Blog Website
Check out BURNING BRIGHT, available from Samhain Publishing.