Thanks to everyone who made yesterday’s release day so perfect! And although I’ve had to cancel my trip to West Virginia for Lora Leigh’s RAW due to illness, I still have friends scheduled to take over this blog for the next few days. I might poke my head in the door occasionally, but I will be resting for the most part. Thanks again for your support and all your wonderful comments concerning Four Sworn! ~DD

Paranormal Logistics In a Semi-Normal World
by Fiona Jayde

As a writer, I love the art of world building. As a reader, I eagerly devour different worlds and customs and rules other writers create to spin their tales. I love seeing how fellow authors take common elements of vampires, werewolves, angels, witches, heaven and hell and everything in between and make it unique and sparkling. But being me, I always wonder about the logistics. Are there bathrooms in hell? Don’t people (and by people I mean angels, demons, weres of any species, witches, humans and humanoids) need to clean up after steamy love making? When weres shift, what the heck happens to their clothing and other personal items?

I’ve ran into that last problem head first when planning my paranormal series. My Bloodwolves (or Lycks) shift into fairly large wolves, and I had to make the hard decision to either somehow let them keep their clothing, or follow the rules of physics (such as they are) and make the clothes tear off. Torn clothing does leave a lot of nice possibilities for those steamy love scenes. But in reality (again—forgive the word), who wants to run around a city buck naked?

Nakedness aside, how do paranormal creatures live? Do they have money? You need at least a couple of bucks to buy a fresh bag of blood (we’re talking good vampires here—baddies will just eat and run). Do werewolves/angels/witches work? Pay rent? Buy toothpaste?

With so many excellent examples before me, I turned to the masters. Angela Knight in her Mageverse series allows her weres clothing to “meld” to their bodies– they chalk it up to magic, simple and clean and brilliant. JR Ward’s vampires have access to millions—probably because they are so old they’ve had ample time to mature their investments. Buffy the Vampire slayer got a job at a fast food joint to pay the bills. And Spike had a nice crypt—and though we never did see a bathroom, one would assume the undead don’t have need of facilities.

All these choices have significant effect on the characters and their conflicts, and overall storylines. In my case, I decided I liked torturing my characters. Which meant that they can’t just shift on a whim in plain sight because it can be embarrassing getting stuck in one’s own pant legs. With no opposable thumbs to help take those things off.

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The first installment of a kickass paranormal series, Night Haven introduced readers to the world of vampires, bloodwolves and pulse pounding action.

Coming September 21 to Samhain Publishing

Desire cuts both ways…
Nothing gives Dina more pleasure than leaving the vampires she hunts to the mercy of the dawn. And yet most humans she is sworn to protect seem all too happy to offer up their necks. She has vowed never to be like those needy creatures yet, three months ago, she allowed a vampire to kiss her. The memory still makes her body burn—and her skin heat with humiliation.

For over twenty empty years, Luke has lived in a world of dead pleasure and burning sunrise, feeding off those who long for immortality and taboo thrills. Only his art makes him feel half-alive. Until one night in a dark, moody nightclub, where a reckless, amber-eyed bloodwolf left behind her clean, sharp scent—and an ache in his blood nothing but another taste can ease.

Finally, with the chance to purge Luke out of her system, Dina moves in for the kill. But she comes to a horrifying realization. She can no longer shift, and the desire to taste him—body, soul and blood—is making her crazy. As an enraged bloodwolf threatens to rip them both apart, she may just be crazy enough to trust Luke with her life.

Warning: Contains interspecies lust between a bloodwolf and a vampire, and desire thick enough to cut with a blade.

Read an excerpt here!

Is Boundless Love Real?

by Nikki Duncan

Boundless.

More than broad, built, or buff we want our romance novel heroes to be boundless in their desire and love. We want them to value the women they’re falling for in every way. We look for believable relationships built on respect and admiration for what makes their heroine strong as well as patience and understanding for the things which make her vulnerable.

As women in real life, we want a sexy man at our side and in our bed, but we also want those unseen strengths that drive book heroes. Dedication. Willingness to admit he’s in love with one woman. Commitment. We covet them with such conviction we’ll defend out decisions to read romance novels, and expect those qualities in real life, when others disparage our choice of genre or even us. I sure know as writers we defend it.

I wonder though how many people truly believe in the kind of relationships found in books. I’m talking the depth of belief we had in Santa when we were children. A belief strong enough to have us turn from something good that could maybe make us happy to instead wait for something great. The belief that has us asking, like Steve from The Wedding Planner, “What if what’s good really is good, but there’s something greater?”

What if?

Now, I’m not saying jump ship from a relationship because of not great moments. I’m not saying anyone should expect perfection or fireworks every day, but I do wonder if more people held out for greatness and then worked to keep it if we’d have more happily married couples. More successful marriages and families. I mean, sure, there’s nothing easy about love, marriage, or family. Nothing. We’re all a little dysfunctional, which if you ask me is what gives life color and personality.

But I still wonder.

Do you think people rush in too fast and settle for something that’s just ‘good’? Do you believe in a boundless love? Have you already found it? Or are you still looking?

Heart stopping puppy chases, childhood melodrama and the aborted hangings of innocent toys are all in a day’s work for Nikki Duncan. This athletic equestrian turned reluctant homemaker turned daring author, is drawn to the siren song of a fresh storyline.

Nikki plots murder and mayhem over breakfast, scandalous exposes at lunch and the sensual turn of phrase after dinner. Nevertheless, it is the pleasurable excitement and anticipation of unraveling her character’s motivation that drives her to write long past the witching hour.

The only anxiety and apprehension haunting this author comes from pondering the mysterious outcome of her latest twist.

To learn more about Nikki, visit her at www.NikkiDuncan.com or www.SensoryOps.com.

Nikki’s book SOUNDS TO DIE BY is available now in print and digital formats here: My Bookstore & More

SCENT OF PERSUASION is available in digital format only at this point.

Cougar, Cougar Burning Bright
By Mardi Ballou

Comment today and you may receive a download of your choice from my backlist!

As a woman of a certain age, I have to wonder where the term “cougar” came from. Of course I’m not thinking of the sleek jungle predator, but rather the woman who goes for younger men. Hmm, “sleek” doesn’t sound bad. “Jungle” is not the usual setting. “Predator”? Intriguing, but not always the case.

I know it wasn’t for me when I was single. I did “date” two significantly younger men—no, not at the same time. Remove your mind from that interesting gutter, please. I’m smiling as I write this—but I must admit, fun as it was to date those guys, I didn’t have the ego ever to relax about the age issue. Kudos to those who can. Are you a soaring cougar, or does it make you nervous to be with a much younger guy?

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In “Long, Slow Ride”, a Quickie from Ellora’s Cave, 25-year old Jeff rescues 36-year old Lori from wallflower status at a wedding—and offers the ride of a lifetime. Hungry as Lori is for exactly what Jeff has to offer, she pushes him away until she almost loses him.

Gwen, the 40-year old heroine of “Soap Bloke,” a new Quickie coming from Ellora’s Cave Aug. 25, shares some of that age angst—though she’s in a solid relationship with Dirk, age 30. TV stars, they’re lovers both on and off the screen—in fact, they first got together when their characters fell in love. So when the producers write in a new love interest for the vampire character Dirk plays, Gwen is terrified she’ll lose him for real. Dirk loves Gwen, but he’s getting tired of the distrust…

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An excerpt from Soap Bloke by Mardi Ballou, coming Aug. 25

Gwen always viewed sex as a barometer for how their relationship was going. Might be a tad simplistic, but it seemed accurate. If Dirk’s gusto in getting them to the bedroom was indicative, they were in great shape. She could allow herself to relax for the moment. Relax and enjoy him.

He carefully deposited her on their luxurious king-size bed. She slipped out of her clothes, lying in the sexy undies she’d changed into when they got home—guaranteed confidence builder. She lounged on the fine Italian sheets, savoring the silky touch on her skin as Dirk treated her to his bump-and-grind strip show—the sped-up version. No matter how many times she feasted her eyes on his outrageous body—buff with just the perfect amount of hair and muscles in all the right places—she never allowed herself to take him for granted.

Off with his T-shirt, off with his jeans. He stood before her clad only in black silk briefs that did nothing to conceal the erection she’d spent too little time with on the set. She swallowed hard and her pussy creamed in joyful anticipation. This big, hard dream lover was all hers, would be deep inside her in moments. Now there would be no intrusive director, no cameras tracking their every move…

He came over to the bed. “Would my lady care to remove what remains?”

She licked her lips and let her inner coquette come out. “On one condition.”

His cock bobbed in welcome, and she had to restrain herself from taking it in hand. He was so amazingly beautiful, so very tempting. How did she manage to refrain from touching him all the time? “Condition?” His voice sounded husky. “What condition would that be?”

“That you let me take them off with my teeth.”

He roared his assent. She sat at the edge of the bed and drew him to her, bracing herself by wrapping her legs around his, her arms around his slim hips. She clamped her teeth onto the waistband of his briefs, gained purchase and began to tug. In vain. After several moments it was clear this wasn’t going to work. With a grunt, Dirk stretched out on his side on the bed so she could continue her attempts to de-pant him on a more level playing field.

She gripped her teeth on the silk and pulled down. His skin was warm and his scent made her head swim. Maybe that was why she couldn’t move the briefs.

Hmm. Why had she thought this would work? After she’d tried several different times—once biting the firm flesh of his waist—Dirk groaned and gently pulled her away. “Baby, I know you didn’t eat much dinner, but you’re killing me.”
A laugh percolated up from her middle. “I guess hint number seventy-two from Keep It Lively, Ladies is a no-go,” she sputtered.

He pulled her to him and shook his head. “You want to keep it lively, do you?” With that he peeled off her bra with his fingers while he demonstrated the fine art of de-panting with his teeth.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Gwen shivered in his arms.

“Vampire secret,” he muttered in his best Transylvanian accent before proceeding to apply his lips and teeth somewhere much more interesting than her panties…

My husband and I visited a prep school friend of his in San Diego in late July. I fell in love with the white buildings with red tile roofs, palm trees nodding overhead, the old church towers rising on hillsides. And of course the harbor – home to every type of vessel from sailing ships to Navy carriers. I watched surfers and dolphins playing in the waves, beach volleyball games and families on the beaches. Even got to watch my husband on a surfboard—briefly. He’s such a stud-muffin.

I was sure I’d love San Diego, from photos and descriptions. But I was nervous about staying in the beach house of a couple I’d never even met. Would they be glad to have me tagging along? Would I have anything in common with our host’s wife? Would we connect?

My fears were allayed when our host greeted us at the airport, with a big California smile and hug. His wife was just as charming and friendly. She directed us to our room, complete with private bath. And there on the bed were two fluffy white robes—embroidered with our initials!

I felt as if we were at a luxury spa resort. And the feeling lasted as we chatted our way through walks on the beach, tours of local attractions and quiet evenings around the pool. We talked about our children, laughed about the guys’ high school experiences on blind dates and compared notes on how we finally met the right people to truly fall in love, and marry. Mellowed by wine and sunsets, we shared deeper feelings.

On the plane home to the Pacific Northwest, I opened my little Acer to jot down notes and impressions of San Diego. I’ll surely want to set a story there. But I got to thinking. Reading a new author is like going to stay with strangers. You spend your hard-earned money for the trip and hope it will be a grand, positive experience.

I want my stories to be as welcoming to you as that Del Mar beach house was to me. I love reading books by my favorite authors. When they are my hosts, I know I’m guaranteed a certain kind of experience. I’ll be welcomed into their characters’ inner worlds, given a tour of the sights and brought along on a sexy, romantic adventure with thrills and even a few laughs along the way.

I hope when you begin one of my stories, you’ll look forward to the same welcome. And know that as hot and dangerous as the adventure may be, you’ll wind up safe in the arms of love … and happy ever after.

Best,
Cathryn Cade

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Here’s an excerpt from my new ebook, Prince of Dragons. A shape-shifting prince travels the galaxy to find a virgin bride, but falls instead for a beautiful warrior famed for her seductiveness. He will fight beside her to protect the spaceship Orion from deadly saboteurs, but can he convince her that he is the one man for her?

… Unable to sleep, Sirena had just stepped out of the shower-dry and belted on her flame silk robe when she heard musical laughter out in the corridor. It sounded familiar.

“Holo-cam on,” she commanded. “Passageway.”

She stood stock still, rage burning inside her as she saw the image that sprang up. Two of the Aquarian princesses were just coming out of Slyde Stone’s room. One was patting her tousled hair, the other fastening her robe.

“Thank you, Commander.” One of them giggled. “That was lovely.”

“Yes,” the other added. “We hope you enjoyed it too.”

Sirena’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He was grinning like a fool, his uniform was unfastened halfway down his broad chest and his short hair was tousled, as if someone—or two someones—had been running their fingers through it.
“Thank you, ladies. My compliments on your treat. I’ll take care of cleaning everything up.”

Why, the sneaking, slithering bastard. He had lied to her so completely, so thoroughly. She had actually swallowed his tale of waiting in solitude for her.

She waited until the two had rustled away and then snapped open her hatchway.

Slyde looked over at her, still smiling a little, until he saw the look on her face.

“What is it?” he asked.
Read the rest of this entry »

I have several pet peeves.

Smacking. Grinding of teeth. Slurping. Picking of toenails (no, seriously). Bad ass kids. Oops. Can I say that?

Yeah, there are several habits that are guaranteed to tap my nerves. I almost had to put my son out of the house because he smacked so loud that I could hear him clear across the room! But since he was only five years old at the time my husband frowned on evicting him. Good news is he learned to chew with his lips closed later that year so crisis averted but I didn’t get that home office…

So, as in life, there are several pet peeves I have when reading books. Some that yank me right up out of the story and make me yell, what the fu— Oops. I know I can’t say that. See? Just thinking about them has me lobbing F-bombs!

Here’s one. I love sexual tension as much as any red-blooded woman. The whole will-they-won’t-they- sexual-innuendo-hot-kiss-heavy-petting-but-timely-interruption thing is not only sexy but it draws you into the hero and heroine’s relationship. It has you rooting for them to get together and experience that special moment. It’s the big payoff! Yeah, so you thought. Three hundred pages in the book, the first love scene is on page two hundred and seventy five and its one and a half pages long! Wow. Really? Won’t be sticking around for the Epilogue. I’m too pissed. And unsatisfied.

Another irritation guaranteed to get my Agent Orange acting up? What I like to call the Sybil Syndrome. Case in point. Jane is a straight-laced, sheltered librarian. She doesn’t curse, has never had so much as a whiskey sour and the most dangerous situation she’s faced is a killer hang nail. One night she’s walking to her car after the library closes and a mugger jumps out of the bushes. Suddenly, Jane drops her stack of periodicals to the ground, leaps in the air and whirls around, nailing her would-be attacker in the jaw with a round house kick. How ‘bout that? I thought this book was about the sexy, bad boy hero turning the inexperienced heroine out. Not a woman with multiple personality disorders…Character consistency! Sheesh! Is she the Plain Jane or Jackie Chan?? I’m confused. And I ain’t finishing the book.

And one that I will return a book for? When characters change or compromises their belief system or standards for loooove. I recently read a book where the heroine did not want to become a mistress like her mother and live a kept existence that depended on the whim of her current lover. She fell in love with the hero, who was above her station, and at the end of the book consented to being his mistress because it was the only way they could be together. Okay, I’m still a little p.o.’d. Yes, they ended up together but I lost respect for the heroine in the process. She was willing to throw her beliefs, her standards that defined her on the altar of loooove. For a man. Yes, love conquers all but it shouldn’t ask you to demean yourself in the process. Unhuh. Not buying it. Well, technically, I did buy it but I took it back to the store the next day…

So now that I have vented and you all know the close call my son had with homelessness, what are your pet peeves in a book? What makes you want to drop kick a hero or heroine in a story? C’mon! Share!

Come visit me at my website and check out my current and upcoming releases with Ellora’s Cave Publishing!

Honeymoons can be dangerous.

I know what you’re thinking. Honeymoons are supposed to be all fun in the sun, margaritas served by cabana boys, and lots of lazy days in bed. Well that’s one way to do it.

My fiancé (now husband of twelve years) and I planned a more adventurous start to our marriage, and not the whips and chains variety. We decided to spend three weeks exploring New Zealand. We rented a campervan and there started the adventure.

Kiwis drive on the left side of the road. Since I’d never driven outside the US, it took me a little bit to get used to that. And I kept the damage to the campervan to a minimum. Hey, can I help it if that sign hung too low? Ever heard the tearing of metal to a rented vehicle? Not fun. So, yes, I got to figure out insurance claims in a foreign country.

Speaking of insurance claims, how could I forget to mention the inch long gash in my husband’s hand that he got on the way to the airport to leave? Like the alpha male he is, he wrapped it in paper towels and masking tape and got on board our flight. When we got to New Zealand, we headed to the nearest clinic thinking he’d need stitches and we’d be in for a huge medical bill. They cleaned him up and charged us “full price” because we didn’t have insurance. It was less than an emergency room co-pay here in the US.

I love New Zealand.

All patched up and back to the campervan. We drove along the wind-swept green hills through sheep grazing in pastures. Idyllic and gorgeous. Until the wind caught the side of the campervan and nearly shoved us off the side of a very large drop. We truly thought we’d die. But the wind only blew us a few feet off the road and we managed from there.

Let me see… what else? Oh, the small, tiny airplane that took us through rough weather, over the southern alps, and then dived down into a small landing strip. Couldn’t forget that. Scary. Really. Scenery was gorgeous, but next time, I think I’ll take a larger plane. Please.

Don’t get me wrong. We loved it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. And we certainly enjoyed ourselves. After all, first born in a honeymoon baby. We had our lazy days, too.

But yes, honeymoons can be dangerous.

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The Forbidden Chamber by Ella Drake was released August 3rd by Samhain Publishing. In this gothic historical paranormal, the heroine Isabel learns how dangerous a honeymoon can be—with a cursed husband who turns into a giant Raven on their wedding night and warns her she will die if she enters the forbidden chamber.

Ella is a Dark Paranormal and Science Fiction Romance author published with Cobblestone Press, Liquid Silver Books, and Samhain Publishing. She has two releases coming soon from Carina Press, Silver Bound and Jaq’s Harp. Sometimes she dabbles in Weird SF stories (read The Adventures of Daphne for free on her website). To learn more about Ella, visit her webpage. Ella can also be found on facebook and twitter.

Nurse Ratched and Me
by Meg Benjamin

Thanks to my efforts at healthy diet and exercise, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Nurse Ratched lately. You remember Nurse Ratched, the nightmare administrator from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest? What you may not know is that most writers have a Nurse Ratched living in our heads. She’s the one who mutters “Shouldn’t you be writing?” as you sit in the sun, reading your paper and sipping a latte. She’s the one who says, “Three pages? Really?” when you’re ready to knock off for the day. She the one who sneers, “You call that a love scene?” over the pages you spent hours constructing. Nurse Ratched keeps you writing, but she also makes you miserable.

In my case, Nurse Ratched usually takes over my efforts to diet. This has its good and bad points. The good, of course, is that she really does keep me on course as much as possible. The bad is that she drives me crazy. If I want a snack, Nurse Ratched steps in—“You’re not really hungry, you know. You’re indulging yourself.” If I want to take a day off from exercising, Nurse Ratched is there. “A day off? With those hips?” Nurse Ratched surveys my wardrobe with a critical eye, pointing out that that shirt I was going to wear is just a wee bit tight around the middle. She counts the glasses of wine I have with dinner, and starts muttering at glass two.

Now eventually, I’m either going to reach my diet goal or decide I’m tired of dieting—that’s what usually happens. The problem then becomes making Nurse Ratched shut up. Because, of course, she never goes away when you want her to. Chances are I’ll have Nurse Ratched on my case for several months to come. I only hope I can distract her back to being my muse. Cranky, never satisfied, eternally critical. Yeah, that sounds about right.

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A future with the woman of his dreams is within his grasp…if the past will stay that way.
Konigsburg, Book 4

Erik Toleffson wasn’t looking to become Chief of Police. He’s got enough trouble trying to rebuild his relationship with his three brothers who, until just recently, ran the other way when he approached. He’s not the bully they grew up with, but bad memories are tough to overcome.

Morgan Barrett is as worn out as a vat full of crushed grape skins. She never planned to run Cedar Creek Winery, but there’s no one else to shoulder the load as her father recovers from an injury. All she needs is a little sleep. Just a five-minute nap in the booth at the Dew Drop Inn…if that guy across the bar would stop staring at her as if putting her head down on the table is a crime.

After Morgan yawns in Erik’s face, there’s nowhere to go but up. With time, though, their relationship warms like a perfectly blended Bordeaux. Until the shady mayor digs into Erik’s past and dredges up information that could drive a permanent wedge between him and his brothers—and sour any chance of a future with Morgan.

Warning: Contains hot sex with mango sherbet, crooked politicians, yuppie bikers, Bored Ducks, and a Maine Coon Cat with attitude.

Read an excerpt here
Buy a copy here