Archive for February, 2009
An 81 year-old guy loved to fish. He out in his boat ready to drop a line in the water, when he heard a voice say, “Pick me up.”
He looked around, but he couldn’t see any one. He wondered if he’d nodded off and was dreaming. When he heard the same voice. “Pick me up.”
In the water, bobbing along was a frog.
The old man said, “Are you talking to me?”
The frog said, “Yes, I’m talking to you. Pick me up. Then kiss me and I’ll turn into the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. And then, I’ll give you more sexual pleasure than you could ever have imagined.”
The old man looked at the frog for a long moment before reaching over and picking it gently out of water. Very carefully, he tucked her into his front breast pocket.
Then the frog protested, “Are you nuts? Didn’t you hear what I said? I said kiss me and I’ll give you sexual pleasure like you’ve never even dreamed existed.”
He glanced down at the indignant frog. “Nah, at my age I’d rather have a talking frog.”
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
Last month, I had exciting news (here’s where I post the latest scoop)
After the initial giddy rush of selling calmed down I realized that makes six stories sold.
Three Dangerous Books:
Dangerous Surrender
Dangerous Rescue
Dangerous Secrets
The Dangerous books are all erotic romantic suspense. In my head are even more dangerous stories….
And then there are the (so far) three unrelated stories:
Dalila’s Choice– a futuristic erotic romance. It’s the prequel to a series set in a distant galaxy…
Wicked Games– a contemporary erotic romance. The first installment of the Wicked stories, which are dangerous only in their degree of sexiness.
Pirate Rules– another contemporary erotic romance, also the first story in the Pirate series. Since I hadn’t read any erotic modern pirate stories lately, and since I love them, I had to write these stories.
Having sold one or more installments in four different series, it dawns on me that I am insanely ambitious.
As a reader, I expect at least an annual installment for any series I’m hooked on. Writing four different series, let me think…. Perhaps, if I’m organized, dedicated, and the keyboard holds out, it can be done.
But, am I working on any of the wonderful, exciting, series I’ve been fortunate enough to sell? Er, no, I’m um working on a fifth…. Clearly it’s a hopeless case of writing mania.
Are you ambitious or sensible? Tell me there’s someone else who gets carried away by enthusiasm, please.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
Paranormal, futuristic, and urban fantasy books appeal to me because they remove the constraints of reality. Instantly, I’m transferred into an alternate world with unknown rules.
Despite this happy trance, the story still has to make sense, the characters have to be understandable, and the writing decent or else I’m likely to get cranky and exercise my right to quit reading.
Sometimes all of those elements are in place and the story still fails to appeal. Like any reader, I have preferences. First person narration isn’t a deal breaker because there are authors who’ve charmed me despite my prejudice against first person stories. Stupid heroines may make me grit my teeth, but if the rest of the package is working then I’m still reading. Whiny heroes are even more grating than stupid heroines.
Other times even the basics are strained and I keep reading. An original intense conflict, emotional investment, and character identification are the shortest routes to keeping my interest.
My love affair with a new author often comes as a complete surprise. I do a lot of speculative reading with low expectations. That’s actually a plus for the new author.
Authors either decline or improve. My favorites are those who get better over time. The other kind get discarded after a disappointment or at most two. Thus, the autobuy list stays very short and the experimental reading is a way of life.
How about you? Do you have autobuy authors you can rely on to keep you entertained or are you reading off the beaten path seeking those elusive treasured keepers?
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
Just when you think winter is going to last forever, the fat little snouts of various and sundry surprises poke out of the icy ground and Hellabores begin to open their buds. They’re shy flowers keeping their flowers aimed at the earth, but I crawled along on my belly to capture an a pretty apple blossom pink bloom just for you…
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
When I first seriously considered writing as a career, I had on my favorite rose-olored glasses. But, I did some research too. So I had a good idea how long the odds were of getting published at all, let alone making a living. And yet, I dove in those deep waters.
One of things I never really thought about was how many hours it takes to write a book. If it had crossed my mind, I doubt I would have formulated anything close to accurate estimate. Because the answer is different for each writer.
What kind of book? How much research? How fast does she type? How fast does she think? How experienced is she? All legitimate factors to weigh before coming up with a reliable answer.
Even with the clear vision of hindsight, I’d make the same choice. Each story takes whatever it takes. And the worst days writing are still pretty amazing. It is the perfect career for an obsessive-compulsive who’s happy adding and removing commas, seeking a fresh phrase, and dreaming up a new plot twist.
How about you, did you pick your career or did it pick you?
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
An unedited excerpt from Wicked Games , releasing in April from New Concepts Publishing.
This a is a very carnal story, suitable only for adults (blush).
“What do your friends call you?” she asked, fighting to breathe evenly.
“Damien, if they want an answer.”
Rhianna laughed at his almost stuffy serious manner. He was so deliciously young. Suddenly, she felt much more at ease with him.
“So how long have you been a masseur?”
“A few years,” he said. His gaze slid away from hers as he patted the freshly sheeted table in invitation.
She doubted the honesty of his vague answer. But, she wasn’t going to grill him. She hopped up on the table, and then turned awkwardly, trying to preserve some decorum on the narrow surface as she lay on her stomach. “You must have started very young.”
“Oui,” he agreed his deep rich voice full of smooth confidence once again.
And why shouldn’t he be confident, he looked like the Greek God of seduction. Was there such a deity? She couldn’t remember–mythology and college seemed a lifetime ago.
Rhianna let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d held as the top sheet floated over her behind. Before the extra layer of protection fully settled, the towel, which she’d wrapped so securely, was whisked off without further ceremony. The loss of her covering effectively pinned her to the table with modesty.
Before she had a chance to grow seriously discomforted, oil-slicked hands stroked her foot, finding new points of pleasure. Unlike any other massage she’d ever had, the sensation was divine, erasing all conscious thoughts as tension flowed out of her body. The lotion’s sweet scent of coconut and wild ginger lulled her. A delicious languor seeped through her as he continued to work on her feet.
Slowly, so slowly, so very slowly that she felt no alarm, his hands traveled to her ankles. Again, he found surprising nerve endings, which made her sigh with satisfaction. Tension melted away under his expert caresses. Her calf muscles yielded to the wonder of his soothing strokes and sensuous kneading. When his thumbs worked on her hamstrings, a small moan escaped her lips.
“It feels good, oui?” Damien’s silky voice teased her ears.
“Very good,” she admitted reluctantly. A small voice whispered about the danger of being so relaxed. Alone with a large, powerful, and charismatic man was hardly wise.
This was madness, especially reckless, Rhianna reminded herself, when her sexual needs had been on hold for so very long. But the faint warning voice grew even softer because her whole body was humming with lovely sensations. Every centimeter he touched melted, until she was nothing more than a steaming puddle of achy need. And the voice of caution had been drowned out by desire.
He massaged the muscles in her behind. Without any thought of the consequences, she instinctively arched into his hands.
Before she’d settled fully back onto the table, he slapped her bare bottom hard enough to warm her southern cheeks.
“No pushing,” he scolded. Instantly, he returned to kneading her now stinging derriere.
She mumbled something that passed for an apology. A flush spread like wildfire across her breasts, up her neck to her cheeks, and back around pulsing with scorching heat into the heart of her urgent hunger.
The sensation grew so strong so fast, that she fought to stay conscious.
Feminine muscles tightened and eased ever faster in a pulsing pattern that pushed her close to climax. When she was seconds from an extremely overdue orgasm, he moved up to the base of her spine, and then began stroking and kneading her back.
Her disappointment was so sharp she wanted to cry out from the stinging frustration.
Gradually, her body eased back from the throbbing peak. Her crankiness receded under the pressure of his capable hands. She allowed him to soothe away the tension in her upper back.
A moan of sheer bliss escaped as his talented fingers found and released a knotty band of tightened sinews.
He spoke with matter-of-fact confidence. “See how good that feels. You need to relax, and let me take care of you. I know what you need.”
A pang of jealousy pinched as she wondered how many women he’d said exactly the same thing to. The touch of his strong hands did feel divine. But she was used to being in charge. And what was more to the point, she wasn’t at all sure about his master and commander attitude. Though, when he’d spanked her behind–she’d nearly climaxed.
Gentle tugs and rubs lulled her restless hand and eased away more knots of the tense muscles of her arm. Her shoulder and neck muscles released under his attentions like over wound springs set free. They unrolled back into well-oiled pliability at the heat of his magic touch.
Then he stopped.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
Abilities
Not strictly speaking music, and yet I heard a song.
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
Nine months later….
Jack decided to go skiing with his buddy, Bob. They loaded up the minivan and headed north. After driving for a few hours, they got caught in a terrible blizzard.
They pulled into a nearby farm and asked the attractive lady who answered the door if they could spend the night.
“I realize the weather terrible and I have this huge house all to myself, but I’m recently widowed. I’m afraid the neighbors will talk if I let you stay, ”the widow explained demurely.
“Don’t worry,” Jack said. “We’ll be happy to sleep in the barn. And if the weather breaks, we’ll be gone at first light.”
The widow agreed and the men found their way to the barn, settling in for the night.
Come morning, the weather had cleared, and they got on their way as promised.
They enjoyed a great weekend of skiing.
About nine months later, Jack got an unexpected letter from an attorney. It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but he finally determined that it was from the attorney of that attractive widow he had met on the ski weekend.
He dropped in on his friend Bob and asked , “Bob, do you remember that good-looking widow from…..”
“Sure,” Bob said.
“Did you happen to get up in the middle of the night and pay her a visit?”
“Yes,” Bob said, a little embarrassed about being found out. “I did.”
“And did you happen to use my name instead of telling her your name?”
Bob’s face turned redder. “Yeah, sorry buddy. I did. What made you ask?”
“She just died and left me everything.”
And you thought the ending would be different, didn’t you? Now, keep that smile for the rest of the day!
Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am |
When both Hunter and Tru bond with Amber their mating triangle threatens everything they hold dear.
Determined to help rescue the princess, Cassandra agrees to act as the dragons’ sex slave, but can she guard her heart from the dominant males?
Camille, a plump, sweet-natured breeder, is caught in New Eden’s endless war with Baldor. Her mates, Jaxon and Aegis, need cunning and courage to rescue her. They need a miracle to capture her heart.
Werewolf-whisper Daniel is the only one who can heal Scarlet’s broken werewolf connection. If he succeeds then the pack’s needs will eclipse his claim on her heart. But if he fails, they'll both die.
A lonely woman finds passion with a dominant much younger lover, when she tries to leave she learns her new master plays for keeps.
One dangerous warrior woman plus two rogue demon males equals a love to threaten an empire.
Getting paid to watch Eduardo is Desiree’s dream assignment, but when he reaches out to her, crossing the line, everything changes.
Deep in her secret heart, she lusts for a sexy pirate who’d be her master and commander in the bedroom. But, this man may be too dangerous
She finds paradise in the arms of twin brothers, but their law demands she chose one warrior to mate and one to die.
One woman, two men, three wounded hearts--though already mated their love is still forbidden.
