My Odd Little World

Fallenwood by Leslie Soule

2012-02-08T00:01:00.001-06:00

Today I want to welcome Leslie Soule, here to visit and let us have a peek at her new book, Fallenwood. I noticed in the excerpt that there are dragons involved (well at least one) and everyone knows how I feel about dragons *love them* But enough about me, on with the show...er...interview. And remember, Leslie is giving a $25 Barnes & Noble GC to one lucky commenter on the tour-it could easily be one of you!! Now, for a bit about our guest of the day, Leslie Soule.

Leslie Soule lives in Sacramento, California. Fallenwood is her first fantasy novel. She has received her B.A. in English from Sacramento State University and is currently working on her Master’s degree in English at National University.

Website: www.lesliesoule.com

price: $4.99

number of pages: 194

genre: fantasy

publisher: Decadent Publishing

release date: March 2011

buy links: http://www.decadentpublishing.com/product_info.php?manufacturers_id=26&products_id=226

The Writer

What is the best thing about being a writer? The worst?

The best thing about being a writer is meeting other writers and realizing you’re not the only one with the “writer’s disease” that makes you crazy! The worst part is facing a lot of rejection and also facing negative critiques of your work.

What is your method of breaking through writer’s block?

The best remedy I’ve found is to sit down at a café, order something I like, and then play with the Sixth Sense cards from The Writer’s Toolbox. Basically, you choose a card and start writing about the random item on the card, then you connect it to what’s on the second, and write about that, and the same thing with the third. It seems to work wonders for clearing my writer’s blockages.

Do you bring your own life experiences to your writing? Your own personality? If so how?

Well, I incorporate all the things I like, into my writing. I like martial arts, so I wrote about a character who’s a martial artist. I love cats, so I had to have one of those in there too. The list is truly endless.

What inspired you to write your current release?

Fallenwood was influenced by the intense pain I felt when my stepfather passed away. It led me to feel like Hamlet, seeing the great beauty and potential in the world, while also wondering why things happen the way they do.

What fuels you as an author to continue to write?

I feel like I’ve got this compulsion to write, and I’m sure a lot of other writers probably feel the same way. It’s like I just have to do it.

Plotter or Pantser? Why?

I love to plot. Maybe it’s from playing too many RPG games or something. I don’t know.

Can you tell us a bit about what book(s) you have coming out next and what you’re working on now?

Well, at the moment, I’m writing the sequel to Fallenwood. Ash is going to go to each of the two realms in this one, and some new enemies will emerge.

The Person

When you get a chance to read, what books do you love to read?

Well, I’m still working through a big TBR stack of books from the RT convention last April. I love to read all sorts of genres, really.

What bores you as a reader?

I get bored if a book moves too slowly and doesn’t engage me – if the characters are too bland or if there aren’t any characters I like.

What is your favorite food and what is your guilty pleasure food?

My favorite food is sushi. I LOVE sushi! As for a guilty pleasure food, anything chocolate.

If you could go anywhere on a vacation where would you go?

Hmm…I would go to Great Britain, to see the places where J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis hung out, and to see the ruins of Glastonbury Tor.

Do you have a secret talent?

Yes – I have an uncanny ability to find lost things, and I’ve had this “talent” since I was very little, even finding things people don’t know they’re looking for!

What do you think is romantic? What does the word Romance mean to you?

I’m a romantic at heart, but have become cynical about love, so maybe I’m not the right person to ask. I’ll give it a shot, though. I think romance is when you make a connection with someone on more than just a physical level. I think sitting by the ocean and watching the waves is romantic, but I think anything can be romantic as long as it’s something personal. For example, if I wanted to spar with foam swords really badly and my sweetie bought us foam swords and was ready to fight, just because I wanted to do it, personally I think that would be terribly romantic. *sigh*

Random Questions:

Aliens have landed on the planet. What are the three things you would tell them that are great about this planet?

We have sushi, and jazz music, and chocolate! You have come to the right place, my friends. J

If you could create your own drink what would go in it and what would you call it?

Oooh, I like this question. Well, one day I mixed black cherry soda with Captain Morgan Tattoo, and made a drink I like to call Black Tattoo Cherry. The only thing I’d change is to add a real maraschino cherry in there. Voila! You’re welcome. J

You have been locked in a mall and told you can get anything you want and when they open in the morning you won’t have to pay a single cent. What stores would you hit? Better question how would you haul away all your loot?

I would hire a team of scholar ninjas from the martial arts studio I go to (I know a few who would probably be up for helping me) and we would raid the book store, maybe I’d stop in to Hot Topic for the t-shirts, grab a Cinnabon for each of us, and there we go!

Lightning Round

Chocolate or vanilla?

Definitely chocolate.

Wine or beer? If wine, red or white?

I like both wine and beer. For wine, I definitely prefer reds.

You’ve been given the honor of naming a planet, what would you name it?

Oh that’s awesome. I would call it Terra Illumina (the proper name of the Fallenwood realm), in honor of Fallenwood.

If you were in a rock band what would the name of your band be? What would your rocker name be?

I would name my rock band after my job, I think, so it would be Mail Room Madness and I would want one of those one-name rocker names, so it would be Toner, like the kind you put in copy machines. Ha ha ha.

Does music play a role in your writing? Do you write in silence or have music on? Playlist or random?

Usually I write in silence, but lately I’ve been listening to music when I write certain scenes. I listen to random music on Slacker radio while I work.

Food! Favorites to eat in and out? Have a favorite (easy!) recipe you can share with us? Chocolate? White, milk or dark? The food you can never say no to, even when you should?

I’m not fancy when it comes to eating out – I love Taco Bell and Del Taco. Of course, I love sushi. As for an easy recipe, I’ve got a great one. You take a tub of cool whip and two containers of yogurt, whatever flavor you like, mix it all up and put it in a graham cracker crust, and then freeze it. Once it freezes, you’ve got this summer-time pie dessert thing that’s absolutely delicious!

As for chocolate, I love both milk and dark chocolate, but not so much white chocolate. The food I can never say no to is rocky road ice cream. Yum!

Television. Do you watch TV? Sitcoms, dramas, reality? A little of all three? None? Some?

I really don’t watch TV at all, but I’ve caught a few episodes of The Big Bang Theory and I love it!!!

Thanks for having me here today! If anyone would like to enter to win a $25 gift card to Barnes & Noble, please leave a comment, along with your name and e-mail address. Best of luck!

Fallenwood

Fallenwood—a land where magic is the life force, dragons are sages, and wizards good and evil battle for supremacy. When 23-year-old Ash is thrust into the middle of Fallenwood’s power struggles, she is also forced to face her own inner battles. Life on Earth was hard enough on Ash, who is locked in grief for her stepfather. Now, the fate of Fallenwood rests on her shoulders. She must destroy the Great Crystal—the catalyst for all the land’s magic. As the kingdoms prepare for war, Ash must look inside to find the power to save the world, and herself.

And now a very brief excerpt from Leslie's Fallenwood.

The dragon’s eyes glowed, for a flickering moment, with white light.

“Ash,” the dragon continued, “Welcome to Terra Illumina…or as it is more commonly known, Fallenwood.” Then a fierce roaring laugh erupted from the stone, as though the dragon thought the new name a joke. “A dark, difficult, dangerous path lies before you, Ash Kensington.”

Ash’s heart grew heavy. In truth, she knew that she was destined to some terrible, dark fate. For so long, her life was filled with sadness and doubt, and one horrible thing after another. What else can I hope for?

“But Ash, you must not lose hope. Our world needs you..."

I told you there was a dragon.

I want to thank Leslie Soule for stopping in, and if you want to have a chance at the $25 B & N gift card, be sure to comment and leave your email address.

Congratulations are in order

2012-01-22T18:10:00.002-06:00

Congratulations to Vivian Arend

And

Rocky Mountain Haven

Best Seller List

Couldn't happen to a nicer, more deserving person!!!

Somewhere I Belong: Wendi Says 'Warning-Hot Farm Hand Ahead!!'

2012-01-20T00:01:00.001-06:00

I want to welcome Wendi back once again to My Odd Little World. I love when she visits, because she always has something fun to say, and she is always ready to answer any question I throw at her. Maybe next time, I'll get out the crazy questions and see what happens. This time, however, she is here to talk about something near and dear to her heart-NASCAR and how it made its way into so many of her stories. She is also bringing us a look at here new book, Somewhere I Belong, with hot farm hand included at no extra charge to us. And she is offering one commenter on the tour a $10 GC to Liquid Silver books. So let's welcome Wendi back for another visit-seems like she was just here-oh, wait, she was! For new visitors, here is a brief bio and Wendi's links.

I earned a BA in education at Kent State university and as well as a Masters in Education from Nova Southeastern University. I've tried my hand at teaching, waitressing, and retail sales, but writing holds my heart.

I love NASCAR, romance, books in general, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, and my menagerie of animals. I have more stories than my brain can handle percolating. I can't wait to share them with you!

http://www.wendizwaduk.com

http://www.wendizwaduk.blogspot.com

http://www.facebook.com/wendi.zwaduk

http://twitter.com/#!/WendiZwaduk

http://www.manicreaders.com/WendiZwaduk/

Now for Wendi's explanation about here NASCAR addiction, if I may call it that!

I love getting to stop by at Nancy’s blog. Why? I get to visit with close friends. It’s always a fun time. Now for my stop today, Nancy asked me a hard question. What question was that, you ask?

Racing plays a recurring role in many of your books, how did you get interested in this pastime?

Gee. Nothing tough or anything. Actually, it’s not a tough question. I do love racing. So how did fast cars make their way into my writing?

About twelve years ago, I was asked by my husband and my brother in law to select a NASCAR driver. Yes, it was sprung on me pretty much in such a blunt manner. I more or less had no idea anything about racing other than Jeff Gordon WAS a racer and he either won the year I graduated or the next year. (Why did I know that much? It was in my high school year book.) Yeah, I knew nothing. So they pounced and wanted to know who I wanted as my driver.

You’d think I might have done my homework. Really looked at all the drivers and thought about who I wanted to champion. You’d be wrong. I used the most unscientific, uneducated means by which to choose. BIL had a standup of Rusty Wallace in the corner of his rec room. The car was blue – my favorite color—and had a two on it. Real tough to remember, the number two. I nibbled the inside of my cheek. BIL had already taken Tony Stewart as his horse and the unspoken rule was no doubles.

I pointed to the standup and said, I’ll take him. Absolutely scientific. So the choice was made. I took some serious ribbing on it. The first race I watched in its entirety was the 2001 Daytona 500. If you’re at all familiar with NASCAR, you know why that one was so significant. In the immortal words of Mike Helton, “we lost Dale Earnhardt” that day.

Talk about an eye-opener. The ending was the stuff of legend and the legend passed right before our eyes. But, to run with the big dogs meant I had to learn a little bit more about racing than the number two is blue and Earnhardt drives the three. I read up on the sport, watched as many past races as possible and paid attention to the lingo. It’s funny. We went to Charlotte a few years back and this fellow behind us mentioned he’d been to the very first Daytona 500. He bet we didn’t know who won. BIL and DH were stupefied. I smiled and said, the gentleman who got the trophy at the end of the race wasn’t really the winner. The winner ended up being Lee Petty because he protested and asked for a photograph to show without dispute, he’d won the race. The guy grinned. “Yes, hon, you’re right.”

Did I mention DH and BIL were stupefied? They were. That’s when I realized my paying attention and hard work was worth it. I could run with the big dogs.

How did racing manage to get into my writing? Racing is one of those sports where the person is either a devout fan or could care less. For those who are devout, the sport manages to get into every aspect of their lives. For those who don’t care, it doesn’t pass on their collective radar. Being one of those folks who is devout, well, I can answer the age old question, how bad have I got it? I’ve named some of my pets NASCAR names. Kenny Wallace, Rusty Wallace, Darlington. I have it bad.

Apparently my characters do, too. Not all of them. Some of them are completely unknowing about racing. The ones who love it, are the ones who make sure the others learn about it. For example, in Somewhere I Belong, Marley is a NASCAR fan. She never actually says who she follows, but she’s a fan. Sully doesn’t really know who races in the sport, but he knows about it. She shows him the thrill of the sport and he succumbs to it. Or is it to him? Maybe it’s both.

Yes, watching cars go around in a circle can be boring. Yes, when I’m watching NASCAR, I usually have my laptop open and am writing. But when cars start hitting the walls, start pushing and shoving for position and when drivers get so impassioned they want to beat the snot out of each other, I’m paying full attention.

I don’t know if that really answers the question, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. What are your favorite sports? Pastimes? I’d love to know about them. Do you watch NASCAR? Favorite driver? Least favorite? And because this is just opinion, your answer, no matter who it is, is valid. Come on. Let me know! Grin. I’m waiting.

Thanks Wendi, for another fun post. And I do know who the Wallace brothers are-I've met them and a couple other Missouri racing boys too, and I used to hang out at the old dirt track out in St. Charles, Missouri every weekend. That is where Ken Schrader got his start, and I saw him racing sprint cars way back when.

Now, lets take a peek at Somewhere I Belong, and meet your hot farm hand.

He never knew what he was missing until he came home to find his place to belong—with her.

Sullavan Tanner walked away from Jarvis, Ohio, afraid to give his heart to the woman he loved. He lived the rock and roll lifestyle, but never quite made it to the big time. Fifteen years later, he’s back and ready to claim what’s his—if she’ll accept his help.

Marley Lockwood’s done asking for help. The family farm is more than she can handle, but if she can survive a cancer scare, the loss of her parents, the abandonment by her first love, and a messy divorce, she can handle anything.

Until Sully shows up.

Although she’s not interested in rekindling the love affair, she’s not above accepting Sully’s hands on the farm. What’s the worst that could happen? They get the farm out of the red and into the black? That’s her plan. They actually fall in love? The past says it won’t work, so she’s not hedging her bets.

Too bad Sully’s not giving up this time.

Now for a quick excerpt-I like this one!

“Dancing isn’t my thing.” Why did Sully make her so nervous? Because Sully made her inner thighs heat and her heart thunder. Of all the men she knew, Sully remained elusive and out of reach. And yet, he’d come back when she needed him the most...like a white knight. God, she had to get the childish, fanciful thoughts from her head and regain her footing in the real world.

Sighing, he eased down next to her. “I don’t buy that for a moment, but I’m not gonna push.” He bumped her shoulder with his, sending a frisson of lust snaking through her body. “I missed our late-night conversations.” A chuckle erupted from his throat. “You know, I never found someone to understand me like you do.”

She balled her fists to keep from touching him and stared at the crisp yellow flames. Sully smelled like sin and pine. “Conversationalist is my middle name.”

Sully cupped her chin, redirecting her gaze. “And all this time I thought it was Elaine.”

Despite wanting to stay, Marley stood. “I never could fool you.”

“Dance?”

She shook her head. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“You left after we had sex. Like right after. Was it that bad or was it just a notch for your belt?”

His smile faded. “Marley, that’s not fair.”

“Thanks for your answer.” She brushed imaginary debris from her lap. “You and I work together. There will be no dancing, no kissing, and no love. Got me?”

“Who said kissing?” He stood and grabbed her hand. Sully tugged her away from the fire and the rumble of conversation to the privacy of the back porch. “There’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about, and I don’t know how to tell you, but I absolutely want to kiss you."

Does she or doesn't she? This is one very good book, and I thank Wendi for coming by to visit. Don't forget to leave a comment, and if you have a question for Wendi, I promise she will come back and answer all of the questions.

Permanent-ly delighted-With Megan Slayer's Tory and River

2012-01-13T00:01:00.001-06:00

Today is Friday the 13th, but I think it may be a lucky day. My guest today is Megan Slayer, alter ego to one of my favorite authors, and let me tell you, her books are just as hot as her 'other side'. Before we get into what made her decide to add a second name to her repertoire, let's take a quick peek at her 'bio'. And remember, Megan is offering a $10 Changeling GC to one lucky commenter on her tour. Now, let's meet Megan Slayer.

When she's not writing the stories in her head, Megan Slayer can be found luxuriating in her hot tub with her two vampire Cabana boys, Luke and Jeremy. She has the tendency to run a tad too far with her muse, so she has to hide in the head of her alter ego, but the boys don't seem to mind.

When she's not obsessing over her whip collection, she can be found picking up her kidlet from school.

She enjoys writing in all genres, but writing about men in love suits her fancy best.

Currently hanging out every Wednesday and Friday at the Menagerie Authors site, hunting Hotties for the Saturday posts, and working on the next great story brewing in her head!

http://www.wendizwaduk.com/indexMegan.htm

www.menagerieauthors.com (Megan's current site)

http://theauthormeganslayer.blogspot.com(Menagerie Blog)

http://menagerieauthors.blogspot.com/ (Megan's personal blog)

http://twitter.com/#!/MeganSlayer(Megan on Twitter)

http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100000938063999 (Megan on FB)

http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/The-Menagerie-Authors/180690948613536 (Menagerie Fan Page)

Now that we know a bit more about Megan, I want to see what she has for us today. I asked Megan and her alter ego why she felt the need to be someone else and she gave me an interesting insight into her dual identity.

You’re Not the Same!

I wanted to first and foremost thank Nancy for having me. This stop is always a favorite and I love the readers who come out to chatter with me. Nancy, you’re a peach, but you ask hard questions and come up with great topics.

So what was my topic? Why I needed to take a second name.

Once I got back up off the floor – I never thought about it being a big deal, having another name – I really thought about the topic. Why have a second name? If someone finds my Wendi work, they may or may not find my Megan work and vice-versa. Am I cutting off my nose to spite my face?

It came down ultimately to this: Mom had a fit. Really.

My mom is actually pretty cool with what I write. She keeps asking me to write something she can talk about at church, but with characters like mine, there’s no behaving. (And why would they want to?) But the moment I told her I’d had talks with a couple of my characters that were both men, she pretty much fainted dead away. When she came to, I got “you can’t do that. Your grandparents will disown you.”

Do I think I’d be disowned? Not really. Would they be upset? Probably. I can see my biological grandmother, one of the people I responsible for my slightly off-kilter sense of humor, cackling wildly and shouting “you go girl!” Mom’s not quite so cool with it, but oh well.

But I had a discussion with a couple of other writers and I came to the conclusion that if I wanted to write a MM story, it wouldn’t be all that bad to have a separate name to write it under. There are those souls who won’t read MM. I get it and respect them for it. I don’t particularly care. There are subgenres within the romance heading that I can’t fathom or stand – but that’s another post. I didn’t want those who read the more mainstream stories to be turned off by a MM story. I also didn’t want MM readers turned off by the idea that I wrote mainstream, too. I’m not trying to make people happy , but I realize what one likes does shape what they will read.

So why Megan Slayer? There’s a funny story behind that. Megan is my middle name, so it was rather easy to pick that. I’ve been called Meg as long as I can remember, so answering to it isn’t a hardship. But why Slayer? It’s like this: I finally got a laptop. I’d done my early writing on a PC and drove DH crazy. He broke down and gave me the green light for a laptop. It took me about six months to crash it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only time I managed to crash it. I was teased that I managed to slay the demon computer. I don’t know if I slayed it or if I managed to destroy the thing, but the goofy name, a la Buffy the Vampire Slayer, stuck. I was asked to join the Menagerie Authors blog. Well naturally, I needed a name. Wendi Zwaduk would work, but I had my own blog. So, after many talks with my BFF/CP, I came to the conclusion Megan Slayer was the name for my MM. It stuck and I’m glad. I just hope that now the readers will like my work and encourage me to write more.

Thoughts? Questions? Bad jokes? I know it’s not the most exciting story and reasoning, but I try. I’d love to hear what you think. Let me know!

I want to thank Megan/Wendi for this visit, and if anyone wants to ask questions, just pop on in. this could get really fun, and if you like Wendi's sense of humor, guess what? She will be back next Friday with more 'pearls of wisdom' a la Zwaduk.

Now for a peek at Permanent, Megan's M/M with two sexy and sometimes vulnerable heroes, River and Tory.

Sometimes love just ain’t enough...

River Cortland trusted the person he loved. His faith couldn’t protect him from the bitter sting of a cold-hearted Domme. If he’s going to learn to trust again, he’s got to deal with his past. His roommate and best friend, Tory, has seen the physical damage and hasn’t walked away. Can he deal with the emotional scars as well?

Tory McClellan wanted the carefree life...until one night with River changed everything. There’s more to the shy art teacher and Tory wants to know everything-how he tastes, the scent of his skin, the feel of his body as they make love. What terror lies behind River’s brown eyes? Better yet, how can Tory make the sadness go away and be in River’s life, permanently?

I had a tough time picking just one excerpt, but I decided on this one, for a quick trip into River and Tory's lives.

"Are you watching that? Or you just rubbin' one off?"

River opened his eyes. Trust Tory to think he'd been jacking off to a damn chick flick. Sure, the guy on screen was hot, but not approachable hot. River wanted the one man he couldn’t have. Maybe it was finally time to make his desires known.

“You could pick better scenery. He’s too hairy and walks like he’s got a stick up his ass. I’ll bet Snow doesn’t even like him.”

River blanched and rolled his eyes to cover his surprise. Duh, Tory knew River occasionally played for both teams. But he’d never told him the kind of man he considered his ‘type’. River would have to admit he wanted something other than friendship. He’d have to confess he was more than a little infatuated with Tory McClellan. Sounded good to him.

"So what's the verdict?"

Damn. What a loaded question. “No verdict to render, man. I’m here and she’s wherever she is.”

Tory plopped down next to Snowflake. “Hi little girl.” He handed River a fresh beer. "You’ve pouted for almost three months now. It’s time to move on. Plus I can hear you clack that piercing against your teeth clear in the other room.” Tory took a long pull from his bottle and tapped the amber glass against River’s bottle. “To hell with women?”

The cat hissed and swatted at Tory.

“I meant, with the exception of you, your highness.” Tory gently scratched Snowflake behind the ears. “She wouldn’t be so grumpy if you hadn’t given her such a ridiculous name.”

“She was the prettiest snowflake in the snow drift.”

“She’s black.”

“So?”

“Fair enough.” Tory clinked his bear bottle with River’s. “You up for a piece of ass?”

Frowning, River shifted his gaze for a split second and wriggled his brows. “Are you offering?”

“If you’re in, I’m in. Women aren’t worth the hassle." He grinned and rested his hand on River’s thigh. “You seem overall happier. I like it.”

I want to say a big thanks to Megan/Wendi for once again bringing her skewed sense of humor to my place. Feel free to pop in with questions, and stop back to get the answers. Remember, there is a $10 Changeling Press GC out there waiting for someone-it could be you!! And I may throw in a surprise or two as well.

Moira Rogers Head to Head Trucker VS Outcast E-Reader contest

2012-01-02T19:52:00.002-06:00

Why I chose to join the Outcasts!

First, my ex is a trucker, and I have no affinity for the folks who spend their time on the road. I do appreciate what they do, but please...

Next, have you read the profiles of these outcasts? They seriously kick butt, and take names later, if at all.

I have this secret passion for demons, even half bloods!

So declare yourself and join the winning team-Team Outcast!!

Zel: With a mother strong-willed enough to escape a demon’s clutches and a step-father capable enough to hold together an outcast enclave, Zel was raised to leadership. It’s too bad his demon nature is more suited to savagery than statesmanship. He’ll lead his people because it’s his duty, but he’d rather be punching someone in the face. Repeatedly.

Hailey: Hailey’s mother could summon demons. Her father was demon-spawn. She’s one of the first generation of hybrids, humans with strong demon and summoner blood mixing in their veins to create magical ability. Or, in her case, psychic ability. Hailey knows if you’ve been bad or good, and will make you regret it if you try to lie to her.

Lorenzo: Some halfblood demons are fighters. Some are lovers. Then there’s Lorenzo. Technically he’s only half-incubus, but that hasn’t stopped him from being 100% irresistible to women and men alike. He’s also the iron fist that will crush any halfblood caught using magic to cross the line between seduction and coercion.

Trip: Being mostly human doesn’t make you powerless–not when you’re a world class hacker in a network-dependent world. Whether it’s security, communication or entertainment, he’s the final word on computing in virtual reality among the outcasts. If you’re really nice to him, he might share his stash of pre-apocalypse music and movies, too.

Jai: Most halfblood outcasts were born to human women who escaped demons. Jai’s halfblood mother worshiped them as gods. There are probably more comfortable places to grow up than a demon hunting camp–Sparta and Hell being among them–but Jai has done his best to adjust to a life with human rules, even if he’s more demon than man.

This post is part of Moira Rogers’s Post-Apocalyptic Trucker vs Outcast Showdown. A comment on this post will enter you to win your choice of a NOOK Simple Touch, or a Kindle Touch or Kobo Touch with special offers. For rules, details on more ways to enter or information on how to pick your own side, visit the contest page at Moira Rogers’s website.

Turkish Delights - A Triple Play from Liz Crowe

2011-12-08T00:01:00.001-06:00

Today, I am happy to welcome Liz Crowe to My Odd Little World. She has three books in the 1NightStand series represented here today-Turkish Delights, Blue Cruise and Tulip Princess. There is a delightful prize being offered for one lucky commenter, and I will be awarding one of the books to one of my commenters here today.

Liz is giving away three Turkish themed prize packages to randomly drawn commenters which may include, but aren't limited to:
*a holiday stocking made from an authentic Turkish kilim rug
*a mug with the Turkish 'evil eye' meant to ward off said evil
*a pewter dish, that is traditional used to hold 'lokum' or the actual Turkish Delight confection/candy
*a box of traditional lokum
*a small Turkish kilim rug (reversible-authentic)

Before the interview questions, let's find out a little bit about Liz Crowe with a brief bio.

Microbrewery owner, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three teenagers, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great middle west, in a Major College Town. Years of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as an ex-pat trailing spouse plus making her way in a world of men (i.e. the beer industry) has prepped her for life as erotic romance author. When she isn't sweating beer inventory, sales figures or promotional efforts for her latest publication, doing pounds of laundry for her sweaty athletic children, watching La Liga on the Fox Soccer Channel, or trying to figure out what to order in for dinner, she can be found walking her standard poodles or doing Bikram Yoga. Liz loves her Foo Fighters Pandora station, and watching reruns of Deadwood, when there isn't any decent European football on the telly. If you want a beer education follow her: www.a2beerwench.com. For writing related stuff, including her backlist, go to: www.brewingpassion.com.

The Writer

What is the best thing about being a writer? The worst?

The best thing is the pure joy of creation. Where there was not story, now there is. Where there were no characters, now they exist.
The worst:

1. editing process

2. endless promotions

3. getting bad reviews (for we all get them)

Which authors do you most admire and aspire to?

I would like to someday be considered “The Stephen King of erotic romance.” I’m guessing Nora Roberts might arm rassle me for it. I also admire JR Ward a lot, although I’ll admit that after reading straight through 9 of her Black Dagger Bro-hood books I’m losing patience with her ultra hip inner dialogue and copious use of brand names. I would also to be able to world create like Suny, and her Mona Lisa series.

If you could share one major writing tip, to help other writers in their quest for publication, what would it be?

Run away! Quickly! Before you are subject to the above “worst things” and still can’t make any money!!
Seriously, you have to understand that this process for many, many (perhaps all) years of your writing career is for you. Not the readers, reviewers, publishers. It’s yours. What I mean is, my claim to Stephen King-dom notwithstanding, not many of us will actually make a living writing. Especially if you stick it out in the oh-so-crowded romance market. You need the extra umph of a big name agent and imprint behind you or saintly patience for the still nascent e-publishing world to really take off to think you will be counting Benjamins anytime soon.
So, reality check: why are you writing? I’m writing because I love the creation process. I have been able to find some publishers who like my creations hence we make a few dollars here and there selling them to readers. But I am writing for me.

Was there someone instrumental in inspiring you as a writer?

Once I got going and involved in several professional writer’s groups and loops I met a couple of women who have done nothing but cheerlead and encourage me. Katalina Leon is sort of a start-up muse for me. When I’m down and thinking I suck out loud or whatever, I can email her and she will say “but what about this…” and throw out a nugget of a new idea and I am off to the races! Also, Cindy Spencer Pape is a nice blast of reality when it comes to the business of writing.
But while going through this with three different publishers I have been beyond blessed with amazing editing (Clarissa Yip), stoic and determined professionals (Elizabeth Carr) and flat-out entertaining editor/writer/friends (Valerie Mann). I’m thrilled to have them in my corner.

Plotter or Pantser? Why?

Both. I head write for days on new projects, “plotting”. Then I sit and pants my way through it until its done.

Where do you research your books?

Depends. My Brewing Passion series came straight from my experience owning a craft microbrewery and I have a REALLY great MS sitting with a few AE’s right now that is a craft beer murder/sabotage/intrigue story. For some of the elements there I reached out to some of my fellow brewery owners (some who shall remain nameless here but if you are any kind of craft beer fan you would know them if I told you their names) to get ideas of “how to sabotage your own brewery” or “where the most famous breweries in Germany are.”

For Turkish Delights I drew from my time spent living in that amazing country.

What kind of research did Turkish Delights require?

I pulled my books from my days there to get some locations correct and of course triple checked the language when I used it. There is now a prequel that’s been accepted to the entire series: The Diplomat’s Daughter that required a fair bit of digging into how Istanbul looked and felt in the 1960’s. Orhan Pamuk is a Pulitzer prize-winning Turkish author who has a memoir with some of the most beautiful photos and prose ever: Istanbul, from his days growing up there in the 1960s that was my Bible for the prequel.

Can you tell us a bit about what book(s) you have coming out next and what you’re working on now?

I actually have several after the Turkish Delights Trilogy.
Specific Gravity is ostensibly the final chapter in the Brewing Passion series from Breathless Press. It follows up my Choose your Romance (ending) novel The Tap Room and is a short hot story between a few secondary characters. It released Nov. 25.
Caught Offside is coming up next. It’s another of the Decadent 1NightStand books (the first one to get accepted actually but they wanted to run with the trilogy first). It’s a soccer story (I looooove soccer) about a former major league star who was injured and is recovering slowly and unhappily when he meets a woman who’s lost her husband and at one time was the goalie for the women’s national soccer team. It was a lot of fun to write.

And….of course I would not be a respectable writer were there not a WIP: I’m working on a Time Travel novel set in Germany. Midnight Sonata is working title. Hunky, bossy, difficult alpha brewer in the early 1900s. Frustrated daughter of successful modern brewer who wants to brew herself but is thwarted by her father, slips though some sort of crack in the universe and finds herself in said hunky brewer’s lap. She thinks its all part of the tour she’s on of famous German breweries. But after a hot night he doesn’t seems to come out of “character.” Uh oh….

Then as I said above, The Diplomat’s Daughter is in edits. It’s a novella length story, not within the 1NightStand parameters, keeping the Turkish Delights fun going! It’s Tarkan, Emre and Lale’s parent’s story. Very romantic.
Blurb:

When Vivian Kincaid's eyes meet those of a hunky local at the Turkish university she attends it only takes her a split second to recognize her dear childhood friend. Levent Deniz was the servant boy who taught her to run the streets of Istanbul years before, giving outlet to her wild streak even as a child.

Now face-to-face once again as adults, the only thing standing between them and happiness is her father. The newly appointed Consul General for the United States has other plans for his only daughter. Ones that do not include a former servant, now successful entrepreneur. He will do everything in his power to keep them apart.

The Diplomat's Daughter is set in 1960s Istanbul and tells the story of pre-destiny, passion and the rebellious power of true love.

The Person

When you get a chance to read, what books do you love to read?

I’m finishing up the JR Ward Black Dagger Bros series. My next big novel will be Mr. King’s 11/23/63. But I have read just about every single 1NightStand book in the series from Decadent. I recommend them highly!

How does your family feel about having a writer in the family? Do they read your books?

My spouse likes it when he’s not irritated that the laundry is never done and there is rarely food prepared….he reads them for certain. My kids are amused by it (teenagers—they amuse easily).

Do you write full time? What did you do before you became a writer? Or Still do?

I own a craft microbrewery and spend most of each day dealing with the marketing of it. I blog as the Beer Wench (www.a2beerwench.com) , maintain the webiste and social networking, handle distributor sales people, promotions and staffing in the Tap Room. I write a lot too. I don’t sleep much.

Do you have an interesting quirk or talent?

I’m nearly certified as a “Cicerone” which is like a wine sommelier. I can smell and taste imperfections in beers, tell you what sort of malt and hops were used and can create great beer/food pairings.

What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done to figure out a book?

Asking a very well known owner of a very well known brewery how he would sabotage HIS own brewery were he so inclined. It became the premise of the climax of that brewery/intrigue/murder story I SO WISH I COULD GET PUBLISHED.

Random craziness

If you were a pirate what would your booty consist of? What would your pirate name be?

Why, I’m the Beer Wench ‘O course me love.
And my booty would be as many damn books as I wanted to read.

You’ve been given the honor of naming a planet, what would you name it?

Wolverinia in honor of my brewing company.

If your life were turned into a cartoon, what cartoon character would you want playing you?

Wonder Woman of course. Oh cartoon? Um….I don’t know many cartoons but I know I’d make a GREAT Lucy. I’m bossy and love to yank footballs away from boys kicking them.

It’s a slumber party! Calories don’t count. What snacks will we be munching on at midnight?

Kettle corn, Reese's pieces and Snickers bars

Favorite guilty pleasure?

My second (or third) glass of Dog Fish Head 90 Minute IPA. I’ll spare you the beer lecture of why.

Where can we find out more about you and your work?

www.lizcrowe.com

www.brewingpassion.com (blog)

And finally, have you got a sneak peek excerpt from your current work in progress you can share with my readers and me?

Oh sure, here’s an excerpt from The Diplomat’s Daughter:

Her skin prickled and she looked up to find some hunky local staring at her like she was a water mirage in the desert. His eyes were dark, his features sharp and striking. The dark tie and light blue shirt hugged his obviously strong torso. Her eyes narrowed. Two can play the stare down game. When he smiled, she gasped and her heart lurched into her throat. She whipped around and clutched her hands together on the desk.

Oh God. It was Levent Deniz. Her childhood friend. The boy who’d made her early years as the child of a busy diplomat in this teeming city bearable. They’d spent countless hours playing in the parks by the Bosporus, daring each other through various mazes of dangerous boat docks, across rickety bridges through neighborhoods she had no business in. That scar at the corner of his mouth…when he’d fallen and bled like a stuck pig, trying to protect her from the feral dog that was chasing them…His poor mother had been apoplectic. So had hers once they’d returned to her house so he could find his parents. His father was the chief groundskeeper and his mother was the cook that came with the diplomatic residence where Viv’s family resided. She'd technically been forbidden to play with him again. But it didn’t matter, because after that day, he’d disappeared from her life. She remembers desperately looking through the kitchens and back halls where he usually lurked doing his schoolwork while his parents worked to serve hers.

Damn. He’d gone and gotten handsome. The years she’d spent back in the states after her parents’ divorce she’d nearly forgotten about him. Now she was back, thanks to her mother’s death and her father’s insistence on having her nearby. Stuck going to Robert College, getting into as much trouble as she could behind his back, Viv hated every moment of her life since her return to Istanbul.

She snuck a look back over her shoulder at the young man. One dark eyebrow was raised; his finger touched the scar at his full upper lip. Vivian felt sweat break out under her stiff blouse. She crossed her legs. This was an interesting turn of events. One for the diary for certain. She grinned to herself, picturing her father, the newly appointed Consul General for the United States of America, all fat and sassy with his new wife and baby when he caught her making out with that lovely hunk of Turk under the consulate steps. Just what he deserved really.

Vivian gave her old friend one more quick glance, letting her eyes soften so he’d know she’d recognized him. She felt her skin pebble at his intense gaze. She studied his broad shoulders, his classical, almost Roman, features. Lovely. And about to get into a perfectly delightful amount of trouble with her, if she had any control over it. And she knew she did. As if reading her mind, he leaned back in his seat, stretched his long legs out in front of him and ran a hand through his thick hair. Was he actually blushing? Yes. Delightful trouble. Vivian grinned at him. It was a life changing moment that she would never, ever forget.

TURKISH DELIGHTS

The fifteen year age difference between Elle Kensington, ex-patriat American executive and Emre Deniz, son of Istanbul's most successful businessman, has not kept them from becoming fast friends as they tour Istanbul together. But the time has come for him to return to the U.S. to finish his master's degree and she has just been named CEO of the pharmaceutical company that brought her to Turkey in the first place. Elle adores her adopted country, and is alarmed to find herself falling in love with the young man who's been her impromptu guide for the last few months.

But she knows they can never be. She will return home to California within a month, leaving behind all she loves about the ancient city. In a rare fit of spontaneity, Elle has contracted with Madame Eve's OneNightStand dating service to hopefully find a way to forget the dark, handsome young man who has captured her heart. Little does she know what awaits her in the ancient recesses of the Ottoman palace turned luxury hotel under the hands of her one night stand masseur.

BLUE CRUISE:

Caleb and Tarkan were an odd couple, men from two different cultures, but so in love they were determined to overcome any obstacles. Fate had different plans. Two years after tragedy strikes, Caleb is still a hollow shell of himself, alone and miserable. Adem Broussard is happy enough, as owner and chef of his restaurant on the Turkish southern coast. But a tall, American Adonis he saw once, years ago on a Turkish Blue Cruise haunts his most erotic dreams and he hopes contracting with Madame Eve's 1NightStand service for an unconventional date will help him forget.

When Caleb caves in to his friend Elle's insistence that he return to Turkey and exorcise some of the demons that haunt him, he reluctantly climbs on board a private yacht for a special 1NightStand Blue Cruise. There he comes face to face with the man who remembers him well, and wants to help him heal.

TULIP PRINCESS

Lale Deniz, young, drifting and prone to wildness that her Turkish family doesn't understand is seeking something to help her reestablish control over her life. Her beloved brother Tarkan has exited her life. His twin, Emre lives far away in America with his growing family. When Elle, Emre's American wife has a scary brush with death giving birth, Lale is dispatched to California to help with their five-year old daughter. But a recovering Elle has plans for Lale that involve a magical 1NightStand.

Andreas Michos, Greek former NFL star, now athletic director at UNLV also floats through life, unsuccessfully seeking satisfaction. His former wife and sexual sub left him when he took away the limelight of football stardom. He doubts his own abilities anymore and has given up finding an outlet for his natural Dom.

Set against a backdrop of ancient cultural clashes and Mediterranean family dynamics, Lale and Andreas do meet in Las Vegas at the famous Castillos resort for a date. But it seems destined to fail. Unless they are both willing to relinquish control and discover what can be found inside the soul of another.

Turkish Delights Excerpts

“I miss you already,” Emre said, with his usual candor. “I can’t believe I just met you and now we must part.” He finished his tea and signaled the waiter for another. Before she could lean back, he reached over the tiny table and captured her hand, putting it to his mouth. Elle’s entire body zinged. His lips were gentle, soft but with a firmness that spoke of his potential talents with them. Exactly as she thought they would be, even if only pressed to her hand. She bit her lip, no longer caring what the gawkers around them thought, as she pressed her thighs together to ease the ache building between them.

“I know.” Her voice was a whisper. “It’s been…nice getting to know you.” Lame, her brain screamed. Just kiss him, for crying out loud. You are the newly-named CEO of a major pharmaceutical company. You eat fear for breakfast. What the hell is your problem?

She stood, pulling up her bag. Emre remained seated, staring at her.

“I’m not what you think,” he said, as he stretched long legs out in front of him.

Her face flushed with anger. Good. Now I’m on familiar ground. Mad at a man for assuming things about what I think.

“Just what do I think, if you don’t mind sharing.” She used her coolest-cucumber voice, and it pleased her to see the young man frown. Anger she could cope with. Besotted was beyond her, especially since she felt the same damn way about this boy nearly fifteen years her junior.

“Never mind.” He stood, towering over her even as she stood in her highest heels. “Let’s not fight. It’s our last day together, no?”

The urge to run a finger down his strong, stubbled jaw was intense. She clenched her hands together so hard they hurt. He put a familiar arm around her shoulder, nearly bringing her to her knees with lust. The smell of his subtle cologne, mixed with the exotic manliness she’d come to associate with him in his element at his grandfather’s spice booth nearly sent her over the edge. She shut her eyes, leaning into his strong torso ever so slightly. Was it her imagination, or did he flinch? She drew away, ashamed at herself.

“I should get back,” Gesturing in the general vicinity of where her car and driver waited, she gasped when Emre held her close then dropped to one knee right onto the cobblestones. Embarrassment and excitement fought for her brain. He took her hand, kissed it, held it to his heart.

“You are the most amazing woman in the universe. It has been my honor to know you. I wish….” He blinked, and she used the opportunity to pull her hand away. “I just wish we’d known each other sooner.”

It was Elle’s turn to blink. Realization rushed through her, heating her face. He knows damn good and well I’m a dried up specimen, too focused on my career to find and keep a man or sustain any relationship beyond the office. Fists clenched at her sides, she tried to calm her breathing.

You are a fool, Ellery Kensington. He knows you’re a horny old lady. And he might oblige you between the sheets, but get the foolish romantic bullshit about spiriting him back to the States with you out of your head. That’s patent nonsense and you should know better.

Finished with her self-lecture, she squared her shoulders and leaned in to press her lips to his jaw. Closing her eyes against the chemical reaction she had to him, she stepped away quickly.

The hands moved up her calves as the silk sheet covering her nudity shifted, like a whisper against her skin. The masseuse concentrated on one leg at a time, traveling up her calf, reaching her thigh then back down, again and again. With each stroke, she was aware of fingers very near her bare pussy.

She raised her head, shocked but embarrassed by the way her nipples had hardened. It had been a solid year since she’d had sex with anything other than the toy Caleb had given her for her birthday the year before. After Marcus broke off their engagement, she’d jumped into an affair with some guy in finance, had a few close encounters with a man she met at a bar, but lost interest as her job responsibilities ramped up, or so she told herself. Convinced she was unable to sustain anything resembling a normal human relationship, she dove into work, pouring everything she had into it, including her libido.

“Relax,” a soft male voice advised. “It’s okay.” She put her face back against the rest, giving in, taking his advice. His voice comforted her, and her battered psyche needed soothing. Something struck her as odd, though. She thought this was to be a couple’s massage. The fancy cloth covered screen to her right indicated there was another table, and another massage, on the other side. She had assumed the massage would be without barriers. But she’d paid Madame Eve to come up with her ideal date. Maybe this was all part of a plan. Besides her masseur was deliciously distracting. She closed her eyes and let the man’s hands reach up her legs again, and this time when he brushed his fingers against her pussy she didn’t flinch, but nearly purred, thoughts of some tall, dark, handsome stranger on the other side of the fabric divide gone.

The silky cover slid to the floor, leaving Elle fully exposed but something about it was suddenly, completely right. The hands reached her ass, caressed, worked her hips one at a time, before skipping up to her lower back. Just when she got used to that, the hands returned to her ass. She tilted her hips slightly. Her swollen clit needed contact. She moaned softly when one hand thrust against the small of her back while the other gripped the inside of one thigh, pressing into both spots, fingertips grazing the edges of her pussy. When he touched her outer lips, his hand still held tight against her thigh, she gasped. Dear God I am gonna…the orgasm surprised her in both its presence and intensity. Her body spasmed. Fluid gushed and coated her legs and his hands. Elle moaned, in ecstasy and embarrassment.

XX/NC17

He settled himself on her left, and repeated the amazing process there. When she found her arm draped across his lap once again, she smiled when her fingertips found wetness at the end of his shaft. She stroked his incredible cock once more, diving inside the slit of his shorts to get at the soft, velvety flesh. When she tried to remove the eye cloth again, he kept a hand over hers. Her protests were drowned in a dizzying kiss as he slanted soft lips over hers, swiping at the inside of her mouth with a demanding tongue. She kept the cloth in place and plunged her hands into his thick hair, meeting his tongue with hers. But it was over as quickly as it began when he gave her lower lip a quick bite, then sat up, moving around the room, confusing her and making her whimper with unmet need. At that moment, she knew it was him. It had to be. It was as if she’d been kissing him forever, he felt that familiar. She shivered in anticipation.

He ignored her another few minutes, but she could hear his breathing, labored, like hers as she stretched like a cat in a window, allowing the relaxation his hands had provided to ooze through her bones, muscles and sinew. She had never felt so good, or so horny, in her entire life.

“Are we done?” she whispered into the room.

“Not if you don’t want to be.” He had to be near her feet. She was aware of her complete exposure to him as his hands moved up her legs again. Her body was on fire, everywhere he touched her, making her want more. She gasped as he climbed up between her legs, his tongue drawing a wet line up one leg then the other, finally reaching the rock hard nub of her clit. He flicked at it, sucked it in, his moans of satisfaction making Elle’s flesh pucker and her hips buck and lift toward his face. She reached down and grasped his hair, fisting her hands in it, keeping him right where she needed him.

“Dear God,” she cried out as he slipped a finger inside her soaked walls, reaching up, high, under her pubic bone, finding her G-spot so quickly she wondered if he hadn’t been there before. “Ah, yes!” The orgasm gripped her, spun her around, made her see stars as her pussy clenched his fingers and gushed once again. She could practically smell his passion as it overtook the massage oil essence of the room.

“I don’t know how this happened Emre, but I am going to die if you don’t get your cock inside me in the next five seconds.” She slipped the eye cover off and gazed into the young man’s eyes, staring at her from between her legs, his lips and chin covered in her juices. “Please, fuck me.” Her voice was a mere whisper.

“Oh, my darling, I will.” Her heart sang in response.

Blue Cruise Excerpts

Caleb finished his two hour workout by nine PM. and was sitting at the coffee bar, nursing an espresso when he locked eyes with one of the most attractive creatures on the planet. He’d seen the guy before. They worked out at about the same time most days, exchanging polite nods and “excuse me’s” as they completed a long weight circuit. He’d started looking forward to what he considered Extreme Turkish Eye Candy, of the straight variety it seemed, as the man was never without some equally gorgeous female hanging on his every word.

He sighed and sipped, relishing the ache in his muscles from the workout. After two and a half years in Istanbul and intense language lessons paid for by the company he had a good grip on the conversations swirling around him. He caught his fair share of “beautiful yellow hair American” and “sexy boy” from the ladies and smiled at them, for shits and giggles aware of his affect, while completely unaffected by them. But he was there now--the man Caleb had been admiring for weeks. And he was sitting near enough that Caleb could feel the heat of his skin and smell the shampoo in his damp hair. His skin prickled and he looked away.

“Merhaba”

Caleb swallowed and answered back, in Turkish. They shared introductions and a few pleasantries until the conversation got more complex than he could handle. The beautiful man’s accent when they switched to English rang in Caleb’s ears like a symphony. He gave himself a shake. Don’t be a sap. He’s straight, remember?

“You are here every night, like me.”

“Yes, my office is around the corner and it’s an easy stop before going home.”

Caleb was mesmerized by the other man’s full lips and the extreme white of his teeth as he struck up conversations with every female who stopped by. They kept touching him, his hair, shoulders, arms. Caleb resisted a sigh of regret. “So,” Tarkan finally returned his focus to him. “I have a boat. Do you like boats?”

“Uh...sure.” Caleb looked around, suddenly nervous. He’d been warned to keep his sexuality under wraps in this conservative country. He’d found some pretty high end gay bars, and discovered the same men there every time he went. But he’d remained celibate for going on three years, unwilling to engage with anyone there, in spite of several extremely tempting occasions. His cock punched hard against the zipper of his jeans. It hurt like a bitch, but he shifted and smiled at his new friend. “I, um, love boats.”

“Okay, Caleb, I’m having a party this weekend on mine. Leaving from the Asian side, this dock.” He flipped a business card onto the bar between them.

Tarkan Deniz

Broker, Chase Manhattan Bank, Istanbul.

On the back he’d written a phone number and address. Caleb frowned into Tarkan’s dark chocolate gaze. Nothing in it spoke of intimacy closer than a couple of buddies on a boat likely full of women and booze. He sighed and stuck out his hand. The electric spark that passed between the two men made them both blink. “Pleased to meet you Tarkan. I’ll let you know about this weekend. I have to check my schedule.” Caleb’s schedule was full of work, exercise, work, exercise with an occasional injection of more work. He knew he’d be going, if for no other reason than to watch Tarkan do whatever one did when one “had a boat.”

The next night he dashed into the exclusive twentieth floor gym, gutted out seven miles on the treadmill and tried not to stare too obviously around for the other man’s dark face and body. After he’d toweled off and made his way toward the elaborate weight machines, he’d given up. The guy must not be coming tonight. It was Friday. He probably actually had a social life. After about an hour of arm work, Caleb prepared to call it quits. His boss had dumped a huge project on him and he knew he could get a head start tonight, if he went home now. A familiar laugh made him stop dead in his tracks. He whipped his head around, catching the spectacular rear view of the tall, broad shouldered, dark skinned Turk that was the star of his recent lonely fantasies. He took a deep breath and walked toward him.

The man was flirting with some women, as usual, as they lay draped around the weight benches, mouths open with eagerness. He didn’t blame them. The guy was a vision. He could be a model. He touched Tarkan’s shoulder. The mega watt smile and deep mocha eyes caught Caleb off guard. He grinned.

“I’ll go,” he said simply, running a hand through his damp hair. The other man raised an eyebrow, as if questioning him. “I mean, I’ll join you. You know, on the boat. Sunday? Like we, ah, discussed?” He started to doubt his sanity. The guy looked positively confused. Then he nodded.

“Ah, yes, you must be Caleb.”

“Uh, yeah. We met, remember?” The other man’s musical laughter pealed out into the room, drawing attention to their conversation. He slapped a large hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

“You are looking for my brother. Tarkan?”

It was Caleb’s turn to be open mouthed. There were two of them?

Adem climbed up from the hull of the boat. It was hard not to take over the kitchen. But the the current chef and captain kept pushing him out, gently reminding him that he was the client now, that this was a 1Night Stand event, and he needed to go meet his date. He laughed and took the steps two at a time. Determined to enjoy it, not to feel guilty about buying himself the good time he deserved, Adem looked up and saw the American Adonis that haunted his dreams. Ray Bans covered his eyes, and he appeared utterly dejected by the sight of the boat.

Weak kneed was a new sensation to him, but Adem gripped the ropes along the stairwell from the galley and tried not to gape. He cleared his throat and stepped out onto the hot asphalt, the four steps he needed to reach his dream date the longest he’d ever taken. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades, but he squared his shoulders and smiled. The sad, beautiful smile that greeted him in return rolled over his heart like a wave.

“Hello, um, English okay?” The tall man held out a large hand. Adem noticed the distinct lack of the ring he’d watched him accept from the Turkish man on this very boat. Was it two or three years ago?

“Yes, it’s fine,” Adem croaked. “I can speak English, Turkish or French, if you prefer.”

“Oh, I’ll stick to English, thanks.”

The man’s soft blue dress shirt fit his torso like a glove. His jeans were worn, nice and tight, cupping his ass perfectly. Adem gulped. The memory of that cock he’d watched and dreamed about, encased in the denim within his reach, nearly overpowered him.

“Good, good,” Adem ran a hand through his long hair. Damn, I should have gotten it cut. This man probably preferred his dates a bit less…shaggy. “So, we can board if you like.” He gestured toward the boat, unsure what else to say.

The blond god spoke. “I’m Caleb, by the way. Caleb Blessing.”

Adem blushed. “Oh, sorry. Let’s start over.” He turned and stuck out his hand again. “I’m Adem. Adem Broussard.”

He watched as Caleb clenched his jaw.

“I know. I remember you.”

“Oh, well, then….” Adem didn’t understand the emotions flitting over the tall man’s face. When Caleb pulled his sunglasses off and rubbed his eyes, Adem would swear his fingers came away wet. He resisted the extreme urge to pull him into an embrace. Putting his hands in his pockets instead, he stood, letting the silence swirl around them.

“Well, let’s go, shall we?” the gorgeous, obviously unhappy man snapped, as he stomped toward the boat.

Adem’s gut clenched. This was not turning out like he’d hoped. Not at all.

NC 17 XX

Part of him was glad that Adem had backed away earlier, but after a good sleep he acknowledged he would have happily thrown the kid down and fucked him hard, right then, if only to take his edge off. But he had an idea there was more happening here, and needed time to absorb it. And he was that, a kid. Easily ten if not more years younger than Caleb. He had stared up at the darkening blue sky and thought of Elle and her constant arguments against her own relationship with Emre at first. She had been forty when they met, Emre twenty-five. They had worked out fine, mainly, Caleb reflected, because both Emre and his brother were old souls. He sighed at the fleeting thought of Tarkan and stretched. Adem had glanced up from his paper and smiled, patted Caleb’s leg and stood.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, let’s hit the shops.”

Caleb had placed a chaste peck on the man’s soft cheek, before changing into linen shorts that nearly matched Adem’s, He pulled a polo shirt over his head and followed him off the boat, up to the city center. They’d provisioned for the next two days, planning to stay off shore. Caleb felt himself slipping back into that comfortable place he had occupied for so many years in Turkey as Adem bargained and purchased and pointed out the sights.

“You know,” Caleb said when they were back on the boat. They sat at the deck table overlooking the azure sea. “I never thought I’d come back here. But now I remember why I loved it so much.” He raised his glass to Adem who did the same. “To Turkey.”

“To us,” Adem had whispered, making Caleb shiver.

Adem leaned back and sipped his wine. Caleb tried not to stare, but finally gave up the fight.

“Tell me what happened.” The young man’s voice was low. Caleb shut his eyes and relived the nightmare, sad, but somehow relieved to be telling it.

By the time he’d finished the story, Adem’s eyes were watery, but Caleb’s were clear. He realized he’d never actually told anyone the real story of how the thing had happened so quickly, how they all had to rush back to Turkey to give Tarkan’s meager remains the proper swift burial as per custom. It had been a god awful blur, but Caleb suddenly remembered details with more clarity now that he was describing events to Adem.

“I lost my parents too, right about the same time. It’s how I got the money to leave this,” he waved at the boat, “And open The Perfect Table.” Caleb nodded, encouraging him. “Traffic accident in the French countryside, big lorry, small car, too much wine.”

Caleb sighed and spooned up a bit of rich chocolate mousse. He leaned over the table and put the morsel near Adem’s lips. Never taking his eyes from Caleb’s, Adem took the bite and swallowed. He returned the favor, taking a minute to dredge one of the fat strawberries on the dish in front of them through his mousse before holding it to Caleb’s mouth.

Caleb darted his tongue out, licked it, took a small bite then the whole thing, chewing, relishing the rich bitter chocolate and the burst of berry in his mouth. He melted into Adem’s smile again, then with resolve stood and took the slender man’s hand. Once standing together, he ran a finger down his smooth cheek, and pulled his long hair free of its leather tie, letting it flow down his shoulders like a shimmering ebony waterfall. His breath stuttered at the sheer beauty of this man in his arms before leaning down and slanting his lips over Adem’s.

The kiss was tentative at first. Caleb could taste chocolate, with traces of wine, but the deep flavor of Adem was that of Turkey itself, rich, spicy, salty and delicious. He held the back of Adem’s neck, threading his fingers in the other man’s hair, and probed deeper with his tongue, sweeping inside his mouth, making room for him to do the same. He moaned when Adem wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him close, grinding his erection against Caleb’s.

I want to say thank you to Liz Crowe for visiting today. Remember to leave your email when you comment, so I know where to send your book. Also, please indicate in your comment which book you would like to have: Turkish Delights, Blue Cruise or Tulip Princess. As always, my winner will be chosen using RANDOM.ORG, the random number generator.

Love Beyond Sanity-An Erotic Paranormal Romance from Rebecca Royce

2011-12-02T00:01:00.001-06:00

Today, I want to welcome Rebecca Royce to My Odd Little World. Rebecca has a new erotic paranormal romance out from Silver Publishing. For this tour, Rebecca is giving one lucky commenter a $50 Amazon gift card, and I will be giving one of my commenters a copy of Love Beyond Sanity. So be sure to leave your email address in your comment so I know where to send your book. As always, my winner will be chosen using RANDOM.ORG for fairness.

Before we get to the interview questions, here is a bit about Rebecca Royce.

As a teenager, Rebecca Royce would hide in her room to read her favorite romance novels when she was supposed to be doing her homework. She hopes, these days, that her parents think it was well worth it.

Rebecca is the mother of three adorable boys and is fortunate to be married to her best friend. They live in northern New Jersey and try not to freeze too badly during the winter months.

She's in love with science fiction, fantasy, and the paranormal and tries to use all of these elements in her writing. She's been told she's a little bloodthirsty so she hopes that when you read her work you'll enjoy the action packed ride that always ends in romance. Rebecca loves to write series because she loves to see characters develop over time and it always makes her happy to see her favorite characters make guest appearances in other books.

In Rebecca Royce's world anything is possible, anything can happen, and you should suspect that it will.

http://www.rebeccaroyce.com

http://www.rebeccaroyce.blogspot.com

The Writer

What is the best thing about being a writer? The worst?

The best thing about being a writer is getting to share my stories, that live in my head, with everyone else. The worst part is that I can’t write all of the time. Real life interferes occasionally. LOL

Do you bring your own life experiences to your writing? Your own personality? If so how?

Sometimes, I noticed, for example, that I had written a book where a character got a fever and she needed to be given fluids to bring it down. That went on in my house around the same time with one of my sons. I didn’t consciously sit down and think I’m going to write about bringing down fevers. But, it found its way into my book and it wasn’t until after the fact that I realized I had done that.

My own personality? I’m not sure. That’s harder for me to tell. I’m sure I’m in there a lot but I don’t know if I could pinpoint it exactly.

If you could share one major writing tip, to help other writers in their quest for publication, what would it be?

Write every day. If you want this to be your job, treat it like your job. Work every day.

Plotter or Pantser? Why?

Pantser. I’m not sure why. Once I plot out a book, my Muse feels done with it, and then I don’t feel like writing it. But, I do carry a lot of the plot around in my head even if I don’t write it down ahead of time.

What’s your writing space like? What’s always within reach?

Coffee. Its always around.

My writing space is basically me, the computer, and the plug. I can write anywhere.

Where can we find out more about you and your work?

www.rebeccaroyce.com

www.rebeccaroyce.blogspot.com

And finally, have you got a sneak peek excerpt from your current work in progress you can share with my readers and me?

Sure!

The smell of human overindulgence wafted through his nose, making him want to turn on his heel and go out the way he’d gone in.

Rex Kane observed the scene before him with a strange amount of detachment, considering he was currently seeing his mate for the very first time. Two women—no, witches, he corrected—lay in strangely positioned forms frozen on the floor. Twins, he would guess them to be. Possibly even identical. He sniffed the air. Yep, they had matching scents. They were the very rare, but absolutely possible oddity, of identical twins. He would never be able to tell them apart, not by smell anyway.

The Person

When you get a chance to read, what books do you love to read?

Romances. I do love to read romance.

What bores you as a reader?

I’m not sure anything bores me as a reader. I was an English major in College so I’ve had the opportunity to read a lot of genres and styles. In general, I just love to read.

What is your favorite feature on a person?

Their eyes.

What do you think is romantic? What does the word Romance mean to you?

Spending time with my husband. Going out, seeing friends, holding hands. Small things that end up meaning so much over the course of time.

You’re having a dinner party, what five people would you invite?

What five people? Oh, that would be hard. I would have to have my friends and family there. And that would be much more than five. Sorry! I can’t pick.

What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done to figure out a book?

I had to re-learn chemical equations. That was a big problem for me. I nearly pulled out my hair.

Random Questions

If you could create your own drink what would go in it and what would you call it?

Ooh, the Rebecca Royce. LOL. Coconut, Rum, Diet Coke…I think there is already a drink like this.

You have been locked in a mall and told you can get anything you want and when they open in the morning you won’t have to pay a single cent. What stores would you hit? Better question how would you haul away all your loot?

I have a mini-van so I’m pretty sure that I could get all the stuff out. None of it would be clothes. Shoes, purses, electronics, books…

You’ve been given the honor of naming a planet, what would you name it?

JMB—after my Dad.

If you were in a rock band what would the name of your band be? What would your rocker name be?

Ha-Ha. Okay. Rock Band—The Electrics. And I’d probably still be Royce. But one word instead of two—just Royce. LOL

I want to give you a chance to talk about Love Beyond Sanity. Would you like to tell us a bit about the book? How did it come about?

Love Beyond Sanity is the second book in the Outsider series. It is Charma and Jason’s story of falling in love and their role in the quest to save humanity. How did it come about? I’m not sure. I have a very hard time pinpointing where my ideas come from.

Thanks so much for having me!

Thanks for stopping by!

Eighteen years earlier, Charma lost her destined soul mate. Convinced he must be dead, she kept her fears to herself so as not to destroy the morale of the Outsiders who already live with a shaky prophecy as their only guide.

Dr. Jason Randall is a man used to getting what he wants. There has never been a problem he couldn't out think or a situation he wasn't capable of handling.

Now they are both hunted by not one but two demons as they lead the slowly forming group of Outsiders out of the darkness and back into the light. The two strong souls will have to decide if prophecy alone is enough reason to stay together through insane odds...or if love is their true fate.

Excerpt from Love Beyond Sanity

"Oh, Dr. Randall, you are so limited. The Fates, Destiny, the Gods chose you, however it is that you are comfortable describing it. Veli Destrand, before he died, used to call it 'the good side'. He was pretty accurate in that." She laughed. "Such a shame he's dead and you won't get to meet him until I send you to death. But in the mean time you're so exciting to play with."

He didn't see it coming. The electrical current struck his body with what he could only imagine was the force of an eighteen-wheeler. His entire being shook from the experience. His insides burned as if he were a mere piece of toast. Without surprise, he fell to the hard ground.

Breathe. It was nearly impossible to perform that basic function. Eventually, it would pass. He knew this because he'd been going through this experience at least once a day since he'd been stuck in his own mind's creation, but each time she electrocuted him, it seemed to get worse.

********

No, she was not nuts. He was here. The nameless man—she'd never learned his name—who had been made for her, chosen for her in heaven was in this room.

And, she had felt him die. Felt it the night he hadn't come to their secret garden. It had been like someone had taken a sledge hammer and demolished half of her body and soul with one hit. She'd known he was dead.

Alone. That was how she'd felt. With other people's problems filling her days, nights, and dreams.

Until now.

Had he been this way since he'd disappeared when he was twelve? Charma's eyes roamed his body for signs. Impossible. He looked too healthy. Muscle tone defined his body. He didn't look like a man who had been endlessly asleep on a bed. His eyes fluttered as if he was in deep REM sleep.

She cleared her throat, afraid to wake him but wanting to at the same time. "Hello."

Nothing. Charma's cheeks warmed. Why had she assumed he'd respond to her? He was in a coma for goodness sake. She was going to have to do more than speak aloud to get his attention.

********

Jason shook his head. This wasn't going to be easy. Maybe her arrival was a good thing. Maybe she was another piece of the puzzle he needed to solve his dilemma. "Self-loathing, the woman I've invented to come here and cause me tremendous pain as a way to punish myself for killing a man who assaulted me in the parking lot." Jason gestured around the hillside. "This whole thing is one giant guilt trip."

Standing up, her eyebrows pressed inward, and she held a confused look in her eyes. They seemed to be searching for something but he wasn't clear on what.

Finally, she spoke. "Listen to me very carefully. So much of what you just said makes no sense to me and we have zero time to sort it out. I'm not sure how to convince you that what I'm about to tell you is the absolute truth but it is. This is not some grand illusion. Not really."

"That's just what a falsehood that didn't want to be proven wrong would say."

Once again, I want to thank Rebecca Royce for stopping in to visit with us. Be sure to leave a comment, with email address, to be entered for a chance at Rebecca's Amazon gift card prize, and for a copy of her book from me. Again my winners are chosen using RANDOM.ORG, the random number generator, for fairness.

Meet 'Rachel Dahlrumple' and Shea McMasters

2011-11-18T00:01:00.001-06:00

I want to welcome Shea McMaster to My Odd Little World. Shea is giving one lucky commenter a custom tote bag or mug, and of course I will be giving one copy of her book to one of you. If you want to win the book, please be sure to leave your email address in your message, so I know where to send your prize. As always, winner will be chosen using RANDOM.ORG, the random number generator. Now, before we get to the interview questions, could you give us a brief bio to get us started.

Wow, a bio. Yes, naturally I have one that goes in the back of my books and on my website, but really, it’s rather plain. Or so my sister says. So, here’s a bit more fanciful one.

Shea McMaster is the sweeter side of Morgan Q. O’Reilly. A different half of the brain, really. The youngest of five children, she was several years younger than the rest of the crowd who was spaced out at two year intervals for the most part. This resulted in her having a lot of time to amuse herself while the others were off causing the parents problems. Really, she was the best of the lot. Still is. At the end of eighth grade she was dragged from California to Alaska when her father took a job with the Pipeline. Talk about culture shock. It only added to the day dreams that have been her friends for years. Eventually she went away to school and graduated with a degree in English Lit from Mills College, dabbled in situations she was lucky to get out of unscathed, returned home and met a man. Unfortunately, he was the first man she met coming home, and he was an engineer. Both things her mother advised her to avoid. Five years later they married and had a son. Twenty something years later he still calls her his bride and they live mostly happy. Until he wants his shirts from the dry cleaners. During this time, still she daydreamed. And read. Volunteering and working in some interesting places, she had a wide range of experiences that now all play into her stories. With the son off at college, and the husband working long hours doing engineer things, she has plenty of time to ignore the dust bunnies, laundry and shopping while networking on FaceBook and conversing with those people in her mind. Sometimes she even writes down their stories for others to enjoy.

The Writer

What is the best thing about being a writer? The worst?

The best thing is working from home in the comfort of my chair and talking to the voices in my head. Sometimes they’re better company than some people I know. The worst is the isolation can get a bit much from time to time. But that’s what I have my critique group for. They have this great way of keeping my ego from getting too big. Really, that’s not really such an awful “worst”. It still beats working in an office all day long.

What is your method of breaking through writer’s block?

A good session of brainstorming usually helps a whole lot. Mostly because the critter folks like to tell me how to write the story. At least they get me thinking in new directions that will often lead to something wonderful, even if it isn’t how they demanded I write it. I also read. A lot. I love to read!

Do you bring your own life experiences to your writing? Your own personality? If so how?

I don’t think any writer can avoid their personality or experiences in their writing. Yes, my characters often face situations I have and handle them a lot better than I did at the time. Of course, just as many, or more, are made up. That day dreaming thing again. I’m not confessing what is live and what is Memorex.

What fuels you as an author to continue to write?

Those damn voices screaming at me from time to time. That and fear of my husband mentioning that J-O-B thing. When I’m writing I can say, See, Honey, I’m working. No, I’m not making great buckets of money just yet, but I am working. I have a job. As I said before, it beats the heck out of corporate America. And I get to wear my jammies when I’m writing. How can any job get more awesome than that? Bet you’d love to see my really cool penguin jams. ;)

If you could write in any other genre what would it be, and why?

Science Fiction. I love sci-fi and how you can build a world any old way you want it. But without romance, it sort of, well, stalls. The story must have an element of romance in it, and the way I write, science fiction takes second seat to romance. Somehow those love scenes always work themselves in.

Let’s talk characters. If you could cast an actor/actress for your leads, who would they be? Do you have someone in mind as you write your characters? What kinds of character aids do you use in your writing process?

I don’t have any one method for character development. Sometimes they come to me fully assembled. Other times I’ll go the movie route, or piece parts of them together using astrology guides. Or I’ll read a book until I find a character with similar traits. It really just depends on the story and the people who live it.

Where can we find out more about you and your work?

http://sheamcmaster.com will take you to a link that directs you to Shea’s page on Morgan’s site (http://morganqoreilly.com). I really should fully separate the two, but I’d rather pour my energy into writing than updating websites. There is also FaceBook http://www.facebook.com/pages/Shea-McMaster/240251469328338

And finally, have you got a sneak peek excerpt from your current work in progress you can share with my readers and me?

Prologue from

Courtland’s Cuppa

A WIP by

Shea McMaster

"But it's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then."

~Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

London, England

Mid-late 1980s

Prologue

Cold linen met Randi Jean Dailey’s hand when she reached for the pillow beside her. Expecting it to be vacant, but disappointed all the same, she cracked an eye open to find the rumpled imprint of Court’s head and his lingering scent. She pulled the pillow closer to her and buried her face in it, inhaling the fragrance that was all his. Clean, leather, spice, a hint of musk and even a touch of sweet citrus from their bubble bath only hours ago.

All of it overlaid with the sweet scent of the overblown, old fashioned pinky white rose petals he’d sprinkled over her and the bed last night. In her econ book was the first rose he’d ever given her, pressed and drying as a remembrance. One more had been pressed between the pages of her favorite novel just last night. Right in the middle of the love scene.

Unable to stop herself, she allowed a sappy grin accompanied by a sigh, to spread across her face. How magnificent last night had been, and again this morning, as the London sky had slowly lightened. Court had made long, sweet, tender love to her, his warm lips and creative hands worshiping every inch of her. Her hands and lips had worshiped every inch of him in return.

One last time. Savoring every moment, each kiss. Each thrust and answering arch a goodbye filled with bittersweet tenderness guaranteed to bring a tear to her eye for years to come. The smile faded to be replaced by gathering moisture in her eyes. Surely such a parting deserved a sob or two.

Wallowing in the blues and replaying the memories of the night, she flinched when the phone rang and then, fighting the sheets, scrambled for it, hoping it was Court wanting to talk to her one last time.

Half hanging over the side of the bed, heart pounding, she answered breathlessly. “’Allo?”

She loved pronouncing it in what Court called her bad Cockney. He’d teased her incessantly over her attempts to overwrite her California accent with one she’d learned from Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins.

“Abominable,” he’d loved to say. “You can’t learn proper Cockney that way, much less the Queen’s English.”

There was the briefest pause on the other end. “Miss Dailey?”

Not Court. “Yes.” She dropped the attempt to speak in accent and rolled over onto her back, head hanging over the side of the bed. Maybe a little blood rushing to her brain would calm her down.

“Danielle Richards, about the summer internship with Lynford International Importers you applied for?”

The final interview had been last week. Randi had given up hope and had assumed it was a no by now. Did this call mean…? She gulped in a lungful of air. “Yes?”

“It cleared.” For a moment, Randi lay stunned, listening to the words continuing to pour from the phone. Only one voice had sounded sweeter to her these months in London. “If you’re staying, I need you to come to the office this morning, the sooner the better, so you’re set to start on Monday.”

“Yes!” She practically shouted as she jackknifed into a sitting position. Heels digging into the mattress, she tried to speak more calmly. “Yes. I’ll cancel my flight.”

“Good,” Ms. Richards clipped out in her smart upper crust accent. “For the paperwork, exactly what is your legal name? Your application says R. Jean Dailey. What does the ‘R’ stand for?”

Cheeks warming, Randi cleared her throat. “Is it truly necessary?” Until coming to England, she’d always gone by her first name. That was before she found out her name was slang for something else entirely and not considered a name at all to the Brits.

Disapproval laced Ms. Richards’ reply. “Legalities must be observed. Besides, I’ll figure it out when we take a copy of your passport.”

“All right, but please, make note I prefer to go by Jean. Though I could go my initials like my dad does.” Bowing to the inevitable, she took a breath and confessed. “The ‘R’ stands for Randi–with an ‘I’ not a ‘Y’.” Knowing what was coming, she wasn’t entirely surprised at the undertone of amusement from the other woman.

“Randi? Really? Randi Jean Dailey?”

“I know, I know. It’s the same as saying I’m ‘horny Jean every day’. I was clued in my first week here, so I’m sure you understand why I prefer to go by Jean? Or my initials.”

“Yes, yes.” Ms. Richardson cleared her throat. “I do understand. I’ll make sure your supervisor does as well. We’ll just go with Jean if that’s all right.”

“Perfect.” That settled it. Jean she was, while in England. It was the name most people here knew her by anyway. Jean breathed in relief. Not even Court knew she used her middle name and not her first. An unexpected complication, she’d kept her true name deeply under wraps. Maybe if they got married she’d confess, but not before. It was too embarrassing.

“If you need help with accommodation, we’ll do what we can. There may be a bedsit nearby if you can’t extend the sublet on your flat.”

“I’ll find out as soon as I can. I should be there within the hour.”

“Excellent, Miss Dailey. I’ll also have instructions about the new hire reception tonight. See you soon.”

Feeling like a new woman, Jean hung up the phone and before she could breathe in the air to shout for joy the phone rang again.

“Jean Dailey?” The male voice was as efficient and crisp as Danielle Richards’. How she loved the British for their voices alone.

Heart still racing from the last call, her answer was worthy of Marilyn for breathiness. “Yes.”

“This is Doctor Mallory at Student Health. You came in earlier this week because of flu symptoms?”

Dropping back onto her pillow, she responded. “Yes, they seem to be gone now.” Or rather, they came and went. A cup of tea and a crumpet usually took care of it.

“Yes, well, I believe the health aide called to tell you it wasn’t the flu?”

“No, I didn’t get a call back, which is why I put it down to a mild case of food poisoning.” Lord knew that was common enough. A case had put her in the hospital overnight only a week after arriving in January.

“Well, it’s not food poisoning either.”

An unbelievable thought entered her head. No, don’t jump the gun. “Okay. What is it?”

“I hate to pass on news like this over the phone, but by now your curiosity is up and I have a fully booked day starting in ten minutes.” The doctor sighed. “Have you thought to run by the chemists’ and pick up a pregnancy test? We should have considered that right off and included it in the tests we ran, but somehow it got overlooked. To save some time, a trip to the chemist’s would be the best place to start and then we can follow up with a confirmation if the test is positive.”

The phone would have dropped to the floor if she’d been out of bed. Thankfully it only fell to the pillow that still smelled of Court. She grabbed the phone and lifted to her ear again.

“Pregnant? But I’m on birth control…” she squeaked as her heart began to race for the third time that morning.

“Best stop taking the pills and come in for a thorough examination. Clinic is open today and for a few hours tomorrow morning.”

“Oh!” The hand over her heart wasn’t doing a good job of slowing down the beat. “I’ll do that right away. Get a test that is.”

“Very well. Call to schedule a prenatal, or we can talk about alternatives if needed.”

“Oh, no. If the test if positive I will definitely make a prenatal. Thank you.”

The phone clicked as the doctor rang off and Jean slowly hung up her end.

Three more months in London and a baby… Her head spun with the back to back shocks. Oh God, she needed to talk to Court. He’d been as reluctant as she about the end of her semester in London. They had long-term plans—him working for the family firm, getting a foot in the door—until she finished her degree at which time they’d plan the next step. But now… now, she didn’t have to say goodbye. She hadn’t planned on getting pregnant—her father would have a conniption—but somehow she didn’t think Court would be angry. He’d said more than once he wanted to follow her back to San Francisco, but family obligations demanded he at least start his job on Monday morning. They were young and she had her degree to finish yet. Who knew what the future could bring? They had time to work everything out.

But they’d never foreseen this. She had to tell him and needed to do it right. And she knew just how.

The reception tonight. He’d invited her but she’d had to decline because of her flight home. Court had been disappointed. Nothing more than a reception for new hires, all very stuffy and boring, but as it was the family business, and he a new hire, he couldn’t skip it. And since her internship at the same company hadn’t come through, he’d promised to send her a picture, assuring her it would be very dull and, really, she was the more fortunate one to be leaving the country.

Throwing off the covers, she opened the curtains to a perfect late May morning. Jean couldn’t imagine a better place to be at this time of year. This was living, this was life. And God had surely given her the best of all gifts. Answered every prayer and then some. Only twenty years old and her future was laid out before her like a red carpet, just like the one rolled out for the queen each time she stepped outside Buckingham Palace.

She could hardly wait to tell Court. The look on his face when she showed up at the reception tonight would be priceless. No need to pack now, she picked up the phone to ring her landlady. Instead of heading for Heathrow tonight, she’d spend the summer here and then return in time to finish her undergraduate degree at Stanford. And she’d go back with Court instead of leaving behind a bittersweet memory. Or maybe she’d just transfer her credits here and finish her degree at the London School of Economics. She’d done well enough this past semester, it shouldn’t be a problem.

Daddy would just have to deal with it. Besides, if Court went to California with her, he would be an asset to Daddy’s company. He was as brilliant as he was handsome and had royal connections. Distant, but connected all the same. And if they stayed here, the connections would be valuable in another way. There was no way Daddy could object. They’d be married before the baby was born. Mom would be disappointed at first, but would fall in love with the baby a second later. Daddy would follow. Yes, it would all work out perfectly.

Mrs. Courtland Bailey Robinson.

Randi Jean Dailey-Robinson. Scratch the Randi. Jean Dailey-Robinson.

Jean Robinson.

Mr. and Mrs. Courtland Robinson and family.

They’d have a whole herd of blond haired, blue eyed angels. Starting with a boy.

Yes, there was a God and He loved her.

Housing for the summer confirmed, she punched on the radio tuned to the station with the best current music and danced to the shower, first with a giggle, then her voice joined in, singing along to Timbuk 3 and their hit from a few years before.

Yeah, she had a bright future, and just the pair of shades to wear as she rushed into it.

And of course, NONE of that happens the way she plans it…

The Person

When you get a chance to read, what books do you love to read?

Romance! All romance. Contemporary, sci-fi/futuristic/fantasy, suspense, erotic… well, pretty much anything. Shifters aren’t my favorite, but if it’s well written, then sure, I’ll dig in and love it. I especially gobble up anything with humor and of course, lots of sexual tension and teasing.

What bores you as a reader?

Clichés. Passive writing. Weak characters. Predictable plots. Most of all, bad writing or lazy editing drive me right up the wall.

What is your favorite food and what is your guilty pleasure food?

You might as well ask me what my favorite book or song is. Um, well, I lean toward meat and potatoes, but love good Chinese and sometimes only Mexican will do. And don’t forget pizza, the all around anytime food. I have a weakness for fruity candy, but will pretty much mow down anyone in between me and chocolate. Let’s just say I’m no longer young and svelte.

What do you think is romantic? What does the word Romance mean to you?

Romance is when my man does something just the way I want it done, not the way he thinks it should be done.
For example, this year on my birthday he bought me the “fake” jewelry I asked for. It galled him to buy CZ studs and a plain gold band to stand in for my platinum and diamond set to wear when I travel. I love the jewelry we bought. Still real gold, but small and discreet rather than big and flashy. Later that night when we were getting ready for bed he said, “Humph, see if I ever buy you fake jewelry again.” “Fine,” I said. “Next time you can buy me big gaudy diamonds. Sheesh.” “Damn right I will.” We had a good laugh over that. I know he wants to buy me flashy stuff, but really, I wouldn’t wear it often. A better gift to me would be the work hours slacking off and him getting spend time home with me.

Who would you go out on a date with if you could?

My husband J. Seriously, I get brief fan-girl moments, but really, I want the man I married. Wouldn’t know how to be with anyone else. Except my son. A date with him would be fun. Now that he’s an adult (20) and growing into his brain, he’s a kick to just hang out with.

You’re having a dinner party, what five people would you invite?

The three grandparents who died before I was born. Fred Quimby who produced the Tom and Jerry Cartoons. He was my father’s great-uncle. And my mom, because she’s just awesome. Daddy, I’ll catch up with you in heaven, God willing.

Random Questions

Aliens have landed on the planet. What are the three things you would tell them that are great about this planet?

The oceans, hot springs and the Aurora Borealis. Skip the subzero temps at all costs.

If you could create your own drink what would go in it and what would you call it?

I did this recently. Simple. Peach schnapps and diet orange. Fizzy Navel??

If your life were turned into a cartoon, what cartoon character would you want playing you?

Jessica Rabbit for sure. I’m a red head and I want her body.

If you were a pirate what would your booty consist of? What would your pirate name be?

Morgan leShea, and I’d collect precious stones, gold, and being a member of my crew would be something strong handsome men fought to earn. My friends and I would sail around the world collecting yarn and silken threads in addition to the usual glitter. We’d knit, write, and sip champagne while getting massages in the hot tub on deck. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Thank you so much for having me! I look forward to chatting with your readers.

RACHEL DAHLRUMPLE

$5.50

Author: Shea McMaster

Digital ISBN: 9781616503291

Genre: Romance/Contemporary
Length: Novel
Digital Publication Date: November 7, 2011

Cover art by Valerie Tibbs
Formats: .epub, .lit, .pdf, .prc (Kindle and Mobi), .html

BUY IT

Shea McMaster

Traditional Romance for Modern Women

Website: http://sheamcmaster.com

FaceBook http://www.facebook.com/pages/Shea-McMaster/240251469328338

Also Available From Shea

Borealis II: A Space Anthology – Bleu Lies ~ebook

Six Foot Hero ~ebook

Her husband's death is just the beginning of her marital woes.

Rachel's humiliation over the discovery of her late husband's affairs turns to fear when one of his mistresses sends her a poisoned bouquet. But finding the source of the killer flowers is only one step on her path to solving the mystery her husband left behind.

Deputy Dan Weston is with Rachel when the bouquet arrives, and he's at her side as she deals with so many of the secrets that come to light after her husband's death. Dan has carried a torch for Rachel since puberty and he's not going to let her dead husband's vindictive girlfriends or his psychotic mother come between them now. But that means finding out who is sending snakes and poisoned posies before one kills Rachel.

Excerpt

I looked up and took in Dan’s expression. All teasing gone. Cop mode.

“I’m a simple person, Deputy Weston. Steady and calm. Boring. I don’t offend anyone, and no one gives me trouble. Unless you’re talking about Jose Delgado, who is three weeks late with the last book he checked out.”

“I don’t think Jose wrote this.” With a deepening scowl, he turned the card so I could read it through the clear plastic.

Black, block letters, innocuous enough, aside from the message. Ah, yes, the kicker.

Let him go. We want to be together. Start divorce proceedings. Or better yet, end your pitiful life. Your choice. For now.

Dan’s gaze was glued to my face, which first felt hot, then cold. My head swam and my breathing wheezed in and out, as ragged as my stuttering heartbeat.

That bastard. The low down, scheming, rotten, lying, slimy, vile, despicable…

“Care to revise your statement?”

A few quick blinks brought the deputy back into focus, though I could feel the airways in my lungs constricting.

“I know who’s going to die, and isn’t going to be me,” I whispered. “Chinese water torture is too good for him. Splinter those bamboo chopsticks and the minute he gets home, they’re going under his fingernails” I’d learned a few things from my father’s stories of ’Nam. And of course, by reading about the war. After all, I was a librarian. I’d read nearly every book on the shelves. Briefly, I considered doing a search on torture techniques.

The tanned face so near mine blanched. “Easy going, ma’am.”

Right. I wasn’t known for saying such things. I wasn’t known for saying much.

“Well?” I demanded. My fragile world had just vaporized before my eyes and it was far too soon to see what might be left. If anything. The only future visible looked like a rapidly expanding black hole.

Someone wanted me dead. But who? My husband? His girlfriend? Divorce loomed in front of me like a huge gaping maw. I wanted to wail, gnash my teeth, and obliterate something, anything. Of course, I was Rachel the Mouse, so I did my best to hide the violent urges building inside. Rachel the Meek never, ever, let loose with her most primitive emotions. She hid them deep, keeping a calm, submissive, accepting face turned toward the world at large.

“What would you do?”

For the first time I could remember in our long history, Dan looked directly, and very deeply, into my eyes. The sympathy, sincerity, and concern on his face hit me before his words did. Already overwhelmed from too many emotions boiling in my heart and head, I had no defense or response for his reply, or the way he ever so lightly caressed my cheek with the back of his fingers.

“Since I’m not the kind of idiot your husband is, Rachel, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to screw around on the most amazing woman anywhere. Were I the lucky one to have you, I wouldn’t leave you alone long enough for you to ever feel abandoned.”

Aside from the asthma and allergy thing, I was a healthy woman. I’d never, ever, once fainted in my life. But the shocks to my system that night hit too hard. A poisonous gift, a nasty note, knowledge I didn’t want of my husband’s cheating ways, and a gorgeous, younger man, telling me he considered me amazing… The zing I felt in my tummy from his touch did me in.

Black waves engulfing me, limbs losing strength, I slowly collapsed and Dan caught me at the last moment of consciousness. Like any nineteenth-century heiress worth her crumpets and tea, I fainted right into his arms.

Once again, I want to thank Shea McMaster for stopping by today. Remember, she is going to give one lucky commenter on her tour a custom tote bag or mug. And please, please be sure to leave your email address in your message, so if you are my randomly chosen winner, I can get your book to you. As always, winner will be chosen using RANDOM.Org, the random number generator for all original posts, not counting duplicates, or those of the author or myself.

Suzanne Rock's 'Unholy Pursuits'

2011-11-07T00:01:00.001-06:00

Thank you to those that stopped in for Suzanne Rock's visit. The winner of the book I'm giving away (thanks to RANDOM.ORG) is fah218@yahoo.com. I will send you a gc from Ellora's Cave to buy this one.

I want to welcome Suzanne Rock to My Odd Little World. Suzanne has a new release out, Unholy Pursuits, and she is giving one commenter the chance at a download of one book from her backlist. And, as always, I will buy a copy of Unholy Pursuits for one commenter on this post. Before we head to the interview, here is a bit about Suzanne.

After over a decade in the scientific world, Suzanne needed a creative outlet. She tried scrap booking, cooking, crocheting, painting, and piano, none of which held her interest for very long. Then one of her friends suggested writing. Thrilled with the idea of creating her own worlds, she opened up her lap top and never looked back.

When Suzanne’s not writing, she can be found playing with her two daughters, testing her husband’s latest kitchen creations, or curled up with her favorite romance novel in her central Massachusetts home.

Links:

Website: www.suzannerock.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/suzanne.rock

Twitter: www.twitter.com/suzanne_rock

Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/suzanne_rock

Buy link: http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9638-unholy-pursuits.aspx

Book Video:

What is the best thing about being a writer? The worst?

I love creating stories in my head and getting them down on paper. The euphoria a writer gets when finally finishing a manuscript is one of the best feelings in the world.
At times, the rejection and wait times can wear you down. That’s why it’s important during times like these to have good writer friends who understand what you are going through.

What fuels you as an author to continue to write?

The fans, definitely. I love hearing from readers! When someone sends me an email telling me they liked a particular character or story, it makes my day. J

If you could share one major writing tip, to help other writers in their quest for publication, what would it be?

Don’t ever give up. My newest release, Unholy Pursuits, is a testament to perseverance. This story was one of the first manuscripts that I had ever written. It started out as a novella and was rejected by all of the major epublishers at the time, including Elloras Cave. Frustrated, I buried it deep on my hard drive, determined that it would never see the light of day again.

Fast forward two years later.

I had six books under my belt, all with different publishers, but the characters of this story, remained in the back of my mind. Darien in particular wanted me to give him a second chance. When I had a break in between novels, I decided to pull out my old, dusty novella to see if I couldn’t breathe new life into the story.

It was tough. I had learned a lot about my craft in two years, and realized how poorly the story was written. I was determined, however. My “quick polish” soon became extensive rewriting. Many late nights and cups of coffee later, Unholy Pursuits emerged in the form that you see it today.

I love these characters like they are my own children, and I’m excited that they found a good home at the Cave. It’s my hope that as you read this story, you grow to love Darien, Arianne and their world as much as I do.

If you could write in any other genre what would it be, and why?

Romantic Suspense. I’m actually working on a mainstream romantic suspense right now and getting it ready for publication. I’ve had many people tell me that my paranormals contain a lot of suspense so it seems like a natural next step for my writing.

Where can we find out more about you and your work?

You can learn more at my website: ww.suzannerock.com. There you can sign up for my newsletter in the right side bar. This quarterly mailing not only gives you the latest information about my work, but provides behind the scenes tid-bits on the making of my stories. In each issue, I pick one random subscriber to win a prize. This might be a book, a gift card, or some author swag.

Plotter or Pantser? Why?

Plotter. I’ve tried Pantsing, but the story and characters wander all over the place, lacking goals and motivation. I find that if I plot everything out first, I can keep everything on track. J

Do you listen to music while writing? If so what?

No, I don’t listen to music. I find it too distracting. I end up singing instead of writing. J

Can you tell us a bit about what book(s) you have coming out next and what you’re working on now?

Unholy Pursuits is the first story in a brand new series from Ellora’s Cave. If you like demons and fairies and hot headed FBI agents, then you’ll love this new, dark BDSM series.

The portal between earth and hell are guarded by an ancient, mystical race, called the Iatros. These fairy-like creatures protect humans from the creatures of the underworld by preventing their passage to Earth. For years they have worked in secret, until a demon lord finds a way to neutralize their powers and strengthen his own. He uses this new-found magic to form a relic called the demon stone and uses it to gain access to Earth.

The Iatros are unable to fight the strengthening demons on their own, and in desperation recruit the paranormal investigation unit of the FBI to help. This unit, lead by the sexy and egotistical Darien Lange, belittle the Iatros‘ powers and believe that they can defeat the demons on their own.

In the first story, Unholy Pursuit, Darien charms one of the guardians of the portal, a young Iatros named Arianne, and gains access into hell. There things don’t go as planned and the team is captured. After months of captivity some of them escape, but the demon taint is on their soul, and as a result they have an increasing need for sex and violence. Only becoming an Iatros spirit mate can stop their slow transformation into creatures of the underworld, but doing so would admit that they need help, and then they would become bound to one of the mystical creatures forever. How the team manages to escape hell, remove the taint, and combat the demons is the basis for this series.

Right now I’m doing the final edits on Whispers, my historical ménage ghost story that is due out at Loose Id on November 22^nd. Here’s the blurb:

Rose is skeptical when Lady Denville hires her to take care of some ghosts in her townhouse. She expects to find a nest of rats or leaky water pipes. Instead she finds two sexy spirits intent on fulfilling her every sexual desire. They introduce her to a whole new world of pleasure — and a curse that may destroy them all.

Lionel and Jonathan have been trapped in the townhouse for decades, waiting. When Rose walks in, they know that she is the one with the power to save them. The key to their freedom lies within reach, and both men must put aside their differences if they ever hope to break the curse that binds them to the townhouse. As the men set out to seduce Rose and gain their freedom, their sexual desire turns into something more. Now they must be honest with the woman they love, or stay imprisoned in the spirit world forever.

Which season do you prefer? Spring, Summer, Fall or Winter?

Fall is my favorite. I’m a New England girl, and love the fall here. I enjoy the cooler weather and the leaves changing color on the trees. Fall also means apple-picking, an activity that I love to do with my kids.

When you get a chance to read, what books do you love to read?

I read anything. I tend to go in waves with the genres I read. I just got finished reading a bunch of Historical Romances. Right now I’m working on some lighter paranormal books.

What bores you as a reader?

One-dimensional plots, cardboard characters, or stories that seem to have a lot of gratuitous sex.

What do you think is romantic? What does the word Romance mean to you?

I think that two people who have toughed it out and have been together for a long time is very romantic. Sure, flowers, chocolates and grand gestures are great, but it’s the little stuff, how a couple endures over the long-haul that fascinates me. In this day and age, it seems to be a rare thing.

Who would you go out on a date with if you could?

My husband, lol. I know, I know, not very exciting. After having kids, it seems like we don’t ever have enough “together” time. I really look forward to those rare moments when we get to spend time together and do something fun.

You’re having a dinner party, what five people would you invite?

Oh, I don’t know. Five people who know how to have fun. After a full day of writing I want to kick back and relax rather than have a serious conversation. ;)

Do you have an interesting quirk?

I’m a coffee addict. I love both the taste and smell of coffee. I prefer bitter over sweet, and take it only with milk. While I enjoy an occasional latte or interesting flavor, there’s nothing that tops a good old fashioned strong cup of coffee.

Random (silly) Questions

Aliens have landed on the planet. What are the three things you would tell them that are great about this planet?

1) The coffee is wonderful

2) The books are even better

3) If you ever get a chance to meet someone who writes stories, then do it. Writers are fascinating people. ;)

If you could create your own drink what would go in it and what would you call it?

I’d call it the “Nutty Writer.” It would be a cup of very strong coffee with a shot of frangelico. Whipped cream and shaved chocolate would be on top. ;)

You’ve been given the honor of naming a planet, what would you name it?

I. Ownit

If you were in a rock band what would the name of your band be? What would your rocker name be?

The Rock Band would be called “Up all Night” and I’d be Hellova Parti

If your life were turned into a cartoon, what cartoon character would you want playing you?

I’d like Cheetara to play me (Thundercats). I like that she is not only considered beautiful, but isn’t afraid to kick some ass. ;)

Now for a bit about Unholy Pursuits

Darien let his guard down once, and Arianne stole the demon stone from under his nose. Now he has to get it back, no matter what the cost. It doesn’t matter that the feisty redhead calms the voices in his head, or that her body tempts him beyond reason. Only the stone will ensure his survival. He decides to appeal to her feminine side and use gentle seduction to get it back. As he begins, something inside him changes, and the voices in his head compel him to use pain to heighten desire.

As Darien’s touch turns dark, Arianne’s lust escalates, and a connection forms between them. Yet despite her need, she can’t let the sexy FBI agent have what he wants. If placed in the wrong hands, the stone would release an unholy force intent on destroying everything she loves—including him.

Excerpt

He peered around the rock, searching for any signs of life. The forest was completely still. Even the insects and small animals knew it was safer indoors.

Still, Bathin and his deamhans didn’t see them sprint from the tree to the rock. That had to be worth something.

After a moment he turned back and sat on the ground next to her. “I don’t think they saw us.”

Ari pressed her lips together, forming a thin line. “Good.” She started to stand but his firm grip pulled her back to the ground.

“Will you stop already? I’m not a sack of potatoes to be thrown around —”

The kiss was meant to quiet her, nothing more. He didn’t want her to draw attention to them and ruin any chance they had of escape.

But when his lips touched hers, when he drank her gasp and tasted her sweetness, something rippled through him, something dark and possessive. Darien pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her like a vice. He wanted to consume her, drown in her floral scent. The inner darkness panted like a wild animal in his mind. Mine.

A chorus of voices howled in his head in response. Desire surged through his veins, leaving him hot and needy. His cock swelled, and his abdomen tightened. He had the sudden urge to rip off her robe and throw this tall, slender woman to the ground. He wanted to free his aching cock and sink into her softness, to drive himself into her body again and again until he lost himself in a world of pleasure…

What was happening to him? He had to get control of his emotions. This wasn’t the time or the place to take her, he knew that, and yet, he couldn’t seem to convince his inner darkness to let her go.

He could feel the rise in her libido, just as surely as he felt the rise in his own. His darkness was fueling them both, and if he wasn’t careful, they were going to become lost in another vortex of pleasure and power.

Ari placed her hands on his chest, heedless of the danger they were in. He fought his urges, but her fresh, floral aroma coaxed him into a haze of lust and pleasure. She tilted her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He ran his tongue along hers, reveling in the soft, sweet taste of her mouth. Need soared through his body, making him hard all over. His cock swelled even more, pressing painfully against his zipper in response.

Enough. He scolded his inner deamhan and forced himself to pull away. He felt a hollow ache, but knew that this was for the best. There would be plenty of time later to explore her beautiful body, and the strange connection they shared.

“That’s better,” he said in an effort to cover his surging libido. “Now stay quiet"

I want to thank Suzanne Rock for being here today. Please leave a comment to be entered for a chance at a book from her backlist, as well as for a copy of Unholy Pursuit from me. Be sure to leave your email address in your post to be considered for the giveaway here. My winner will, as always, be chosen using RANDOM.ORG, the random number generator.

Meet "Rachel Dahlrumple" Romantic Suspense from Shea McMaster

2011-11-06T00:01:00.001-05:00

The following is the itinerary for Shea Mc Master's Virtual Book Tour. Comment at each stop to increase your chances of winning-and be sure to come back here, where I am also offering a copy of the book to one commenter.

November 7: Romance with an Attitude
November 8: MeganJohnsInvites
November 9: Carrie Ann Ryan's Blog
November 10: Romance in the Backseat
November 11: Laurie's Thoughts & Reviews
November 14: Good Family Reads
November 15:
November 15: REVIEW ONLY Reviews by Molly
November 16: Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess
November 17: Bookin' It Reviews
November 18: My Odd Little World

Unholy Pursuits by Suzanne Rock

2011-10-31T00:01:00.004-05:00

My first November tour will be Suzanne Rock, touring for her paranormal romance Unholy Pursuits from Ellora's Cave. The complete itinerary for the tour is below, stop at each for more chances to win Suzanne's prize: a download of any book from her backlist. As always, I will be offering a copy of Unholy Pursuits to one of the folks who leave a comment and their email address on this blog.

November 7: My Odd Little World
November 8: Reading Romances
November 9: The Forbidden Bookshelf
November 10: AsianCocoa's Secret Garden
November 11: Rachel Leigh - Erotic Romance

Studenstein: Zombies of the Future VBT for Daisy Harris

2011-10-28T00:01:00.001-05:00

Sorry it took so long to announce the winner of the copy of Studenstein. The lucky commenter for this, chosen using RANDOM.ORG random number generator is commenter number 7-Fedora Chen! Congrats Fedora, and once again, there were folks who missed out because they did not leave their email address on their comment.

What better way to start the Halloween weekend than with a book about a new and different kind of zombie. Let's welcome Daisy Harris to My Odd Little World. Her latest release, Studenstein from Ellora's Cave, is an action packed futuristic story, filled with romance and fun. And some very intriguing zombies. But first, a bit about Daisy Harris.

Birkenstock-wearing glamour girl and mother of two by immaculate conception, Daisy Harris still isn’t sure if she writes erotica. Her paranormal romances start out innocently enough. However, her characters behave like complete sluts. Much to Miss Harris’s dismay, the sex tends to get completely out of hand.

If you like science-y subplots, fantastical creatures, and red-hot chemistry, you’ll love Daisy Harris.

website: www.thedaisyharris.com

twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/thedaisyharris

facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Daisy-Harris-Erotic-Paranormal-Romance/185042351535537

What is the best thing about being a writer? The worst?

The best thing about being a writer is writing. I love the feeling of getting lost in a story, especially when I’ve imagined and mulled over a scene or scenes for a long time. It’s fabulous seeing the story come to life!
The worst part is the marketing! LOL. I hate tooting my own horn, and I really hate things like website design. I wish I could just hide in my writer’s cave and turn out stories. Of course, then no one would know about said stories and they would only be read my me. Which would sort of defeat the purpose of getting published.

What is your method of breaking through writer’s block?

I don’t really get writer’s block, per se. I tend to write in fits and spurts, but with clear goals in mind. Like, I see the finish line, then sprint as far as I can, then collapse. But I get up quick and start sprinting again. I’ve never been a slow-and-steady type.
Before I wrote fiction, I was a technical writer. So I’ve been accustomed to daily word count goals, and a project-driven mentality. If the book doesn’t get done, it doesn’t get contracted. And no one will read it. And that, I do not want.

Do you bring your own life experiences to your writing? Your own personality? If so how?

I bring both to my writing, but not how you might imagine. I love writing comedy, and I don’t think I would be able to do that very well if I hadn’t dated a lot. I love drawing on the absurd and uncomfortable ways people interact during courtship.
For example, in my short story Cupid’s Arrow the heroine receives a page-long ranty email from her ex-boyfriend than reduces her to tears. Cupid, being immortal, muses about how people before the internet would rehearse long and morose speeches or write letters. However, in the past they were smart enough to not actually send the letters.
And boy—who hasn’t received a long, ranty email like that? And even though you know the sender was foolish for sending it, you still cry your eyes out.

What fuels you as an author to continue to write?

The voices in my head are merciless! Stories write themselves in my imagination, especially once I’ve started building a world. In any universe I create, characters tend to multiply in my head like bunnies. Then I just have to write their stories.

If you could share one major writing tip, to help other writers in their quest for publication, what would it be?

The best thing I’ve ever done as a writer was to take Holly Lisle’s How To Revise Your Novel course. I’ve adapter her methods to suit my own style over time. However, I’ve pulled out those course notes for every story I’ve revised.

If you could write in any other genre what would it be, and why?

While my Love-Bots series can be considered sci-fi, it’s officially billed as paranormal. Over time, I’d be interested in writing more science fiction. Also, I enjoy writing non-fiction. Other than that, I like where I’m at!

Where can we find out more about you and your work?

My website is at www.thedaisyharris.com. I’m also on Twitter all the time. Honestly, if you really want to know what I’m up to, follow me on Twitter! My handle is @thedaisyharris.

Oh, and I also have an author page at Night Owl Reviews. (There are some free reads there too,) and an author page on Amazon.

And finally, have you got a sneak peek excerpt from your current work in progress you can share with my readers and me?

Here’s the start of the next Love-Bot novella, Built4It:

“He’s starting to look like a gorilla.” Lab assistant Ben Speiger spun his stool back and forth in the cage room of Built4 Laboratories. His fingers in their rubber gloves beat a nervous tune on the counter. “Should he be so…developed?”

The re-animated human inside the right-most cage hung from the bars on his roof. He lifted his body over and over again in a rough approximation of pull-ups. The stein, as re-animated humans were called, dropped to the floor and growled.

His muscles stood out, damp and enormous under his thin, blue hospital scrubs. It was oddly sexy. Odd because while the stein was built like a porn star, he was also undead.

When you get a chance to read, what books do you love to read?

Lately I’ve been on a big male-male romance kick. Normally, contemporary romance isn’t my cup of tea. But with male-male stories I enjoy a contemporary setting. Maybe because I’m not a man and I’m not gay, it feels like a fantasy world. J
I also love paranormal and science fiction erotic romance. Especially when it’s snarky! My favorite romances contain a lot of humor.

What bores you as a reader?

Hm. No genre or story bores me. But what looses me as a reader is bad grammar and style. LOL. I’m a bit of a style nazi. Sentences that end in prepositions make me insane. Ditto use of passive voice. I find it hard to read books where the writing style is flowery or complex.

What do you think is romantic? What does the word Romance mean to you?

Ooh, tough question! To me, romance is about imagination. It’s the heady cracked-out feeling you get early on in a relationship. It’s a creative well within us that we learn to tap as we get older. There’s also day-to-day romance, like a guy who takes out the garbage. I adore that tension between the practical and the fantastical. Because romance is a blend of the two.

Who would you go out on a date with if you could?

Myself! Then I could order my own dinner and not have to worry about sharing. LOL. Otherwise, I’d go with my husband.

You’re having a dinner party, what five people would you invite?

Oh lord, please don’t make me have a dinner party! I hate having people over to my house. It’s really small and I’m an oddly private person. However, I would love to have Dan Savage over. Oh, him and David Sedaris. Throw in John Stewart, Steven Colbert, and maybe Ira Black. J

Aliens have landed on the planet. What are the three things you would tell them that are great about this planet?

I’d send them over to Cherry and MLK and tell them to get some Ethiopian food. Then show them Wikipedia. Oh, and show them hot running water! Hot running water is awesome!
If you could create your own drink what would go in it and what would you call it?

It would be scotch, neat. And it would include scotch. And nothing more. J

If your life were turned into a cartoon, what cartoon character would you want playing you?

Asterix the Gaul. He’s a shrewd, cunning little warrior from a French series of graphic novels. They’ve made cartoons too, and a movie. (There’s also a Monde Asterix in Paris. He’s like the French Mickie Mouse.)

You’ve been given the honor of naming a planet, what would you name it?

Uranus? Unlandia? LOL. I have no idea!

Thanks for having me on the blog! It’s been a blast. J

Studenstein (Book two in the Love-Bots series)

A man built for sex… A woman who wants more…

Freedom fighter Shani Brown is determined to drag the ungrateful Royce back to her team in Seattle. Despite his denial of mistreatment, she wants to give him a chance at a better life. Due to her horrific past as an unlicensed love-bot, Shani never plans to have sex again. But Royce’s makers punish him remotely with crippling pain. His only escape is to orgasm. Never one to turn her back on a job, Shani soon finds herself servicing him—and soon after, caring for him.

Love-bot Royce Harden wasn’t looking to be rescued, especially not from the San Francisco BDSM club where he was having a perfectly good time. But rescued he was—by a hellcat bent on delivering him to her people. As Royce starts to trust Shani, he begins to dream of freedom. But freedom comes with a price. Royce must face his vanity, his makers, and even the loss of his sexual upgrades if he’s going to be the man Shani deserves.

And now for a quick excerpt from Studenstein

Shaniqua! You stop thinking about that boy’s butt right this second! Shani didn’t know where that voice in her head came from, since she’d never had a mother in her undead life. But yeah, that voice in her head, her “superego” Frank called it, always called her by her full name.

So as she led Royce around the outside of the building, Shani focused on the quiet ticks of birds, the rustle of leaves, anything to take her mind of those little dimples that had shown right below his hipbones, or his deep and intriguing groan. As they walked, Shani calculated their distance from the van. Q-ter’s transmitter would only block Royce’s signal within one city block. The bathrooms weren’t all that far away, but Shani wasn’t accustomed to greenery and open space. Without urban landmarks, she didn’t trust her sense of distance.

His biceps flexed under her grip—not pulling away, but maybe trying to warn her he could. Shani’d touched Royce more in the past few hours than she’d touched any man since her captivity. She wanted to think it was because the assignment demanded she lead him about—gripping his firm upper arm—in case he tried to escape, but that voice in her head knew better.

Shaniqua! Let go of the boy-toy! In the dark, his skin felt warm and hard in her hand. It was a relief when she blinked in the bright halogen lights of the ladies’ room. No matter how pretty or tempting Royce Harden might be, Shani would never be able to stomach having sex again. And almost but not doing would be worse than never having tried at all.

Thank you to Daisy Harris for stopping by, and for giving us a whole new image of zombies. Remember Ms. Harris will be giving away a $25 B & N GC to one random commenter on the tour, and I will be giving one copy of Studenstein to one commenter here on my blog. Remember to leave your name and email address, so I can contact my winner. As always, my winner will be chosen using RANDOM.ORG for fairness.

Into the Fire by Cherie Marks

2011-10-22T22:02:00.001-05:00

Into the Fire
Cherie Marks
The Wild Rose Press

Into the fire is a delightful story of romance succeeding in spite of a rocky start. I loved the characters, Shyann and Luke, and the situation that they find themselves in. Shyann is furious with Luke when the story begins, because until two months before, they had been involved, and Shyann caught Luke in a lie. Now they are competing against each other on a television program to see who can come up with the best Valentine's date meal, without knowing until the last minute what 'secret' ingredient they must include. Luke makes a deal-if he wins, she will go to dinner and let him explain why he hid things from her. If she wins, he will leave her alone. But Luke doesn't intend to lose, and that is what makes this story so much fun: the lengths Luke goes to are, at times, sneaky and hilarious.

I really loved these characters. Ms. Marks did a wonderful job in making them real and human, with doubts and insecurities. Luke is a very handsome and determined suitor, and he wants to explain why he had to hide his actions from Shyann. He is not above trickery and subterfuge to get to her. Shyann thinks he was just using her before, especially since he never tried to talk to her in the two months since the big discovery. She finds out, finally, that her sister had run interference, blocking Luke's calls from her. I was delighted to watch these two trade barbs and kisses in equal numbers, and was happy to see that Luke was able to win her heart again. I also like the surprise of who actually finally spilled the beans about everything, and I hope to see more in this world from Ms. Marks-most notably Shyann's sister's story (please?)

Let's go "Into the Fire" with Cherie Marks

2011-10-11T00:01:00.002-05:00

There were nine commenters who left their email addresses, and RANDOM.ORG chose commenter number 9 so my winner is Nay Nay (Renee).
I will be in touch shortly to ask what format you want for this. Congratulations, and let this be a lesson to everyone-leave that email addy if you want to win.

Today we are welcoming Cherie Marks to My Odd Little World. She has a new contemporary romance just released last week called Into The Fire. In honor of this release, Cherie will be giving away three prizes to randomly drawn commenters during the tour: there will be two $10 gift cards to The Wild Rose Press, and one $10 gift card to Amazon.com. And I will be buying one commenter on my blog a copy of Into the Fire for their very own. My winner will be chosen using RANDOM.ORG for fairness.

Before the Q & A, here's a brief bio of today's visiting author, Cherie Marks.

It all started with an old fashioned typewriter. When my family brought it home, all those stories and characters rolling around in my head could finally get out. The press and click of the keys satisfied in their own right, but when I pulled out a finished page, I knew this was for me. Since then, I’ve graduated to a laptop, but the stories still find a way out.

I’m a breast cancer survivor, a teacher, a wife, a mother, and from the very beginning—a storyteller. Always a hint humorous and honest to a fault, I love to make people laugh and smile. My goal in life is to achieve tact and stop procrastinating. The battle wages on.

http://www.cheriemarks.com

http://www.cheriemarks.blogspot.com

http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Cherie-Marks/112358508843288

http://twitter.com/cheriemarks

The Writer

What is the best thing about being a writer? The worst?

I’m discovering the best thing about being a writer is the community. So many times when I’ve doubted myself, the writers I count as friends have been there to build me back up. The worst is the doubt that creeps in because I over-analyze as so many writers do.

What fuels you as an author to continue to write?

Coffee and chocolate! Oh, oooh! I mean the dynamics of telling a story. The interesting characters and their situations that unfold as the book develops keep me writing. I’m a problem-solver, and a story is the ultimate problem to solve for me.

Was there someone instrumental in inspiring you as a writer?

It’s probably a little corny, but I have to say my mother inspired me to write. Although it hurt a little, she was honest with me about my lack of any singing talent, pushing me to work with my natural strengths instead. She was patient with my earliest writing attempts and encouraged me to submit my best work. I’ll always be grateful for her for being my first editor.

Where do you research your books? What kind of research do you do?

I’m a true woman of the new millennium. Most of my research is done online. I don’t know what we did before the internet was so prevalent. Oh, yeah, that’s right, spent all day Saturday taking notes from thick, dusty books at the local library. Achoo! Actually, I still like to visit the library, but it’s mostly for pleasure reading nowadays.

Plotter or Pantser? Why?

I’m so a plotzer. I know some of the major plot points before I put down word one because I’ve thought them all out in my head, but I don’t use physical outlines or write a synopsis beforehand or anything like that. I’ve tried, but like others have said, it takes all the wind out of my sails and destroys my creativity to plot every little move out ahead of time.

The Person

When you get a chance to read, what books do you love to read?

I’m a huge Kresley Cole fan currently, and I got to meet her at RWA10 in Orlando. She was sweet, funny, and personable and gave me a little heads up about her most recent book, before it was published! So, I’ll always read anything she puts outs. Other authors I like to read are Rachel Gibson, Michael Crichton, J. m. Madden, Lori Wilde, Carrie Ryan, Kellie Kamryn. So many books, so little time.

What bores you as a reader?

Not much. I’m a true bibliophile. Very few books I’ve met that I didn’t enjoy something about.

Do you have a secret talent?

My secret talent is my grammar skills. I’m not perfect, but grammar and spelling come easily to me. It’s one of the reasons I went into education for the day job.

What is your favorite time of day?

I have an hour all to myself every weekday in the mornings, and though it flies by, it is my favorite time of day. I use it to clear my head and think things out. Sometimes, I even use it to write because it’s the only time of day, I’m sure to be uninterrupted.

What do you think is romantic? What does the word Romance mean to you?

Romantic is flowers, dates, hand-holding, and kissing—all the things we normally associate with romance, but as the early passion turns to a comfortable love, romance changes a little. My husband of 15 years is one of the most romantic men I know. He scrapes my windshield in the winter, he does household chores, he encourages my writing. All of these are romantic to me. The most romantic thing he’s ever done though was stand beside me through a recent cancer battle. Not only did he stand beside me, but he continued to make me feel like a beautiful, viable woman, even with one breast and bald. That time is a recent memory now, and he’s still my one, true love. Now that is romance to me.

Random Questions:

Aliens have landed on the planet. What are the three things you would tell them that are great about this planet?

Chocolate, romance books, and Ryan Reynolds

You’ve been given the honor of naming a planet, what would you name it?

Ryan Reynolds (see previous answer)

If you were in a rock band what would the name of your band be? What would your rocker name be?

The RR Rockers. Rocker name would be Missus Reynolds *sensing a theme here*

If you could write in any other genre what would it be, and why?

I’d love to write thrillers or mysteries. To me they seem so effortlessly written, but having made an attempt or two, I know it takes a lot of attention to detail. Maybe one of these days, I’ll follow in the footsteps of Janet Evanovich.

Where can we find out more about you and your work?

http://www.cheriemarks.com

http://www.cheriemarks.blogspot.com
Facebook--http://on.fb.me/qRl1lD

Twitter—http://twitter.com/cheriemarks

Book Trailer--http://youtu.be/lXrDrRC1daM
Into the Fire available at http://tinyurl.com/3mfn3zj

And finally, have you got a sneak peek excerpt from your current work in progress you can share with my readers and me?

This is the first few paragraphs of a work-in-progress titled, Who’s the Cake Boss

“Mmmm. So good.” The sound of a finger popping free of two of the most delectable lips Evan Taylor had ever seen nearly buckled his knees. The sensuous sounds Lindsey Kincaid made tightened his mid-section. He glanced surreptitiously in her direction as she scooped another finger through a bowl of fudge icing she’d just finished mixing. Was it just him or did she have a smirk on her face? It was almost enough to send him packing.

Freaked-out of his mind was not a feeling he felt—ever. He’d parachuted out of planes, base-jumped from cliff-sides, swum with sharks in open water. You name it, he’d done it. But the feisty female rolling fondant and mixing all sorts of sweet concoctions at the station next to him scared him like nothing else. She was mystery and perfection rolled into one, and though at one time she thought he could do no wrong, now nothing was further from the truth. His one time apprentice had improved her skills over the last year, but it was obvious she’d just as soon toast his lower marshmallows than talk to him now.

Considering they were stuck together in a traveling kitchen trailer that made the family camper look like a mansion, how they felt about each other didn’t matter though. It was all part of the television competition Who’s The Cake Boss, and they were both vying for the $100,000 prize. But working next to her blew his level of distraction to near-impossible heights, meaning he might as well stand back and watch while she created the winning cake. He’d enjoy that considerably more anyway.

Each arrives with a motive: Luke intends to win back Shyann’s heart, even as she wants closure on the not-so-tasty heartbreak he once served up.Luke knows culinary masterpieces require a delicate touch, but that knowledge is tossed out with the leftovers as he works to show Shyann he’s not such a bad guy.

Now he pushes his skills to the limit to win the competition and satisfy a bet. Can two top chefs resist each other as they move out of the pan and into the fire?

Excerpt from Into the Fire

Silence reigned for half a minute before he reached out a hand and touched hers like a breezy whisper. Her head went a little fuzzy at the warm contact. He shouldn’t still be able to affect her so strongly.

“I regret it went down the way it did, but why did you show me the exit before giving me a chance to explain, not to mention—dress? Enlighten me, sugar cheeks?”

With a jerk, she pulled her hand free. He was really asking for it. Sugar cheeks? Seriously? Now she knew he was only messing with her. She could give as well as she got.

“Tell you what. You win tonight, and I’ll give you your chance. You lose, we go our separate ways, and you walk out all by yourself, big boy.”

A crooked grin formed on his face as he reached a hand toward her hair. He fingered an escaping curl before she pulled away, leaving his hand hanging in midair.“You can call me big boy all you want, but I’ll do you one better. How about if I win, I take you to dinner, and you let me explain the whole situation?”

She felt her eyebrow rise and knew he’d read it as interest, but she didn’t care at the moment. “I honestly don’t want to hear any explanation from you now or ever, but if I win? Which I will, of course.”

“Then I’ll leave it up to you. If you want me to walk away, I will.” He took a step closer, placed his hand on her shoulder, and leaned down, his mouth right next to her ear. “But if you want me to call you darling, sweetheart, and sugar cheeks all night long, I’ll do that too.”

Thanks to Cherie Marks for stopping by today, and I wish you much success with Into the Fire. I have my copy, and will post a review here once I have read it. Remember, I will be giving one commenter a copy as well, so be sure to leave your email address in your comment so I know where to send it. Winner will be chosen using RANDOM.Org for fairness: duplicate comments will not be considered.

A Paranormal Romance-Studenstein by Daisy Harris

2011-10-06T00:01:00.001-05:00

I am posting the full itinerary for Daisy Harris' Virtual Book Tour for Studenstein. The more you comment, the better your chances to win. Good luck and be sure to come back here to comment on the 28th of October.

October 7: NEW RELEASE PARTY - Goddess Fish Party Pavilion
October 10: Lisa Sanchez - Romance Author
October 11: Blisse Blog
October 12: Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess
October 13: Naughty in the Backseat
October 14: Riverina Romantics
October 17: Wendi Zwaduk - Romance to Make Your Heart Race
October 18: Live To Read ~Krystal
October 19: Ramblings From this Chick
October 20: Sexy Lady
October 21: Black Velvet Seductions
October 24: Wake Up Your Wild Side
October 25: Seduced By Books
October 26: Carrie Ann Ryan's Blog
October 27: Erotica For All
October 28: My Odd Little World

Go "Into The Fire" with Cherie Marks: A Virtual Book Tour

2011-10-02T00:01:00.001-05:00

I want everyone to have as many chances as possible on the virtual book tour, so I an going to post the full itinerary for Cherie Marks here. Just click on the link to go to the other blogs-and good luck to you all.

October 3: Mark of the Stars
October 4: Romance in the Backseat
October 5: Lisa Haselton's Reviews and Interviews
October 6: Hope. Dreams. Life... Love
October 7: Sandra's Blog
October 10: MeganJohnsInvites
October 11: My Odd Little World
October 12: Black Velvet Seductions Blog
October 13: Lisa Sanchez Romance Author
October 14: Delaney Diamond

Coming Attractions-New Book Tours

2011-09-17T15:59:00.001-05:00

I have three new book tours scheduled, and hope to have some interesting interviews for you with the authors. This is something I have enjoyed doing, and I am going to once again start offering prizes for those who stop in and comment-for these three it will be copies of the books being promoted on the tour. Now for the Coming Attractions.

On October 11, 2011 I will welcome Cherie Marks, who will be promoting her book Into the Fire. Cherie will be giving away three prizes: two $10 GCs to The Wild Rose Press and one $10 GC to Amazon.com to randomly drawn commenters during the tour.

Months after he stole her affections—then her executive chef position—Shyann and Luke meet again under sizzling circumstances, competing head-to-head on a televised cooking show called Kitchen Twist.

Each arrives with a motive: Luke intends to win back Shyann’s heart, even as she wants closure on the not-so-tasty heartbreak he once served up.Luke knows culinary masterpieces require a delicate touch, but that knowledge is tossed out with the leftovers as he works to show Shyann he’s not such a bad guy.

Now he pushes his skills to the limit to win the competition and satisfy a bet. Can two top chefs resist each other as they move out of the pan and into the fire?

On October 28, 2011 my guest will be Daisy Harris with her paranormal romance Studenstein. Daisy will be giving away a $25 Barnes and Noble GC to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

A man built for sex… A woman who wants more…

Freedom fighter Shani Brown is determined to drag the ungrateful Royce back to her team in Seattle. Despite his denial of mistreatment, she wants to give him a chance at a better life. Due to her horrific past as an unlicensed love-bot, Shani never plans to have sex again. But Royce’s makers punish him remotely with crippling pain. His only escape is to orgasm. Never one to turn her back on a job, Shani soon finds herself servicing him—and soon after, caring for him.

Love-bot Royce Harden wasn’t looking to be rescued, especially not from the San Francisco BDSM club where he was having a perfectly good time. But rescued he was—by a hellcat bent on delivering him to her people. As Royce starts to trust Shani, he begins to dream of freedom. But freedom comes with a price. Royce must face his vanity, his makers, and even the loss of his sexual upgrades if he’s going to be the man Shani deserves.

And on November 18, 2011Shea McMaster will be my guest, in promotion of her romantic suspence book Rachel Dahlrumple. Shea will be giving away a custom tote bag or mug to one randomly drawn commenter during the tour.

Her husband's death is just the beginning of her marital woes.

Rachel's humiliation over the discovery of her late husband's affairs turns to fear when one of his mistresses sends her a poisoned bouquet. But finding the source of the killer flowers is only one step on her path to solving the mystery her husband left behind.

Deputy Dan Weston is with Rachel when the bouquet arrives, and he's at her side as she deals with so many of the secrets that come to light after her husband's death. Dan has carried a torch for Rachel since puberty and he's not going to let her dead husband's vindictive girlfriends or his psychotic mother come between them now. But that means finding out who is sending snakes and poisoned posies before one kills Rachel.

I hope everyone will stop by and comment, and I will be giving one commenter a copy of the book. All winners to my blog are chosen using RANDOM.ORG for fairness.

Bunny and The Bear. Paranormal Fun from Eve Langlais

2011-09-15T00:01:00.003-05:00

Congratulations to Cathy MacDonald (caity_mack), winner of a copy of Bunny and the Bear. Winner was chosen using RANDOM.ORG.

Welcome to My Odd Little World. I've been hosting book tours for a while now, but this one is a bit different. Eve Langlais isn't doing an interview or a blog post, but she is going to give one commenter here a copy of her book Bunny and the Bear. I'm currently reading it, and will post the review here in a few days. So far, I am enjoying the irony of a sexy bunny shifter protecting a great big grizzly bear shifter, and can't wait to see where Ms. Langlais takes the storyline.

First, here is a bit about the author.

Hello everybody, my name is Eve and I am a Canadian romance writer. I am also a mother of three who has been married to my very own alpha for over 11 years now.

From highly sensual to outright erotic, my stories cover a variety of areas--paranormal, science fiction, fantasy and more. My stories have widely different heroines from shy, chubby and glasses wearing to outspoken, sassy and confident. My men all have on thing in common though, they are powerful and HOT!

Looking for dialogue and action driven fun, then check me out. For info on upcoming releases and to read excerpts, please visit me at http://www.EveLanglais.com

Warning: My stories often blur the line between good and evil, and in some cases stomps all over it.

And now for just a small taste of Bunny and the Bear, the latest from Eve Langlais.

Blurb: What’s a poor bear to do when all he wants is some sweet, bunny pie?

Bears and bunnies aren’t supposed to mix, or that’s what Chase keeps telling himself when his bouncy new neighbor won’t stay out of his business—and his mind. However, the more he gets to know his overly perky neighbor, the more he craves her—naked in his grasp—a desire worse than his addiction to honey and pie.

Miranda’s on a mission for the Furry United Coalition, and it involves secretly guarding one grumpy ol’ bear. Staying focused on the job isn’t easy when all she can think about is turning his frown upside down, a task made harder when she gets a glimpse of his passion. When she hears about his theory on woodland creatures and predators not mixing, she thinks all is lost, but she didn’t count on a bear’s curious nature—and possessive need.

When an evil force abducts Chase, Miranda unleashes her bunny in order to save him, but the revelation of her shifter side puts her in danger. Is one ornery bear enough to save her from a mad scientist? And if he does, can a bear forget her woodland creature status long enough to love her and make her his mate?

Remember, Eve is giving one commenter at this blog a copy of Bunny and the Bear, so be sure to leave your comment and your email address so we know where to send the ebook. Winner will be chosen using RANDOM.ORG for fairness.

Ever Fallen In Love? I Have -With Wendi Zwaduk (at least her books)

2011-08-19T00:01:00.001-05:00

Once again, I am delighted to welcome Wendi Zwaduk here to the blog. She always has something fun to talk about, and this time it is her sense of humor on the front line. I often wonder where some people develop their unique sense of the absurd and funny, and Wendi is here to let us in on that side of her.

She is also here to talk about her latest release, Ever Fallen In Love. This is one I am really looking forward to reading, and remember, one lucky commenter will win a $10 GC to Amazon. But first, for newcomers, here's a bit about Wendi.

I always dreamed of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favorites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line. I tend to write books with titles taken from songs because music is one of my many muses. I earned a BA in education at Kent State university and as well as a Masters in Education from Nova Southeastern University. I've tried my hand at teaching, waitressing, and retail sales, but writing holds my heart. I love NASCAR, romance, books in general, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, and my menagerie of animals. I have six books under contract and more than my brain can handle percolating. I can't wait to share them with you! http://www.wendizwaduk.com http://wendizwaduk.blogspot.com

I want to thank Nancy for having me back here. As soon as I found out I’d be at her blog, I squee-ed. I mean, I have always had a blast here. And so I’ve heard, you readers feel I have a wicked sense of humor. So I thought for my post for today, I’d write about the origins of my sense of humor.

To write, you must know a few fundamental things: how to string a sentence together with coherence, how to string the parts of a story together with coherence, how to use the words in their correct use, and how to laugh. Crazy, huh? You gotta laugh to write? Yes. Why? There are more than a few times when there’s little but the laughter to get you through. Revisions, edits, rejections. Yup. You gotta laugh.

So where did I come up with my sense of humor? My parents, music, and Hawkeye Pierce. Didn’t think I’d string those three together, now, did you?

When I was little, my parents encouraged me to watch stuff that was over my head. No really, the TV was up on a microwave stand so everything was above my head. Ok, that and I’m short. But I digress. Mom and Dad encouraged me to ask questions and to observe. Sounds sorta boring, eh? In some ways it was. I mean, I was the first kid in my kindergarten to recite a Billy Joel song, My Life as my favorite song. Mortified the teacher when I sand, quite proudly, the part about sleeping arrangements (they tell you you can’t sleep alone, can’t sleep with someone else...you still wake up with yourself – and yes, I paraphrased). I’m pretty sure Mrs. George wanted to crawl into a hole in the floor. Billy Joel, though cool as heck, isn’t really kindergarten listening material. But Mom played it and I listened/loved it. Still do. I found out later that the teacher thought it was funny that I knew all the words. So, I learned that when I knew stuff and could use it, it was funny.

That brings me once again to my parents. I can’t say that they listened to a wide variety of music. They didn’t. But, they were a class act at watching shows that had an intellectual and humorous bend. I was watching Night Court way before I really got the jokes. I realized though, that I could be crude when making a joke, yes, but sometimes the better joke was being smart about it... Ok, so this example isn’t the most intellectual, but it’s still funny, and again, I’m going to paraphrase because I haven’t see the episode lately. The courthouse gang is stuck in the morgue. They’re watching television and waiting to see who won the poll—for Dan, I think. Anyway, a person who's been in the morgue as a worker is watching with them. The TV goes on the blink and the man says, ‘Hey, it’s one of those ocular contusions.’ I thought, that is the smartest thing. He meant optical illusion, but man, I laughed and laughed. And yes, I still want a pair of slinky shoes.

I happened to be talking to a CP about this a few days ago, but another show I got tons of inspiration from was a British show. You see, Mom loved PBS. Loved it. So on rainy days, we watched PBS. Are You Being Served? is one of my all time favorite shows. The writers knew how to talk what they saw and write about it in a human way that was still funny. For example, the one character is a middle aged woman who has different colored hair in every episode—blue, green, purple, red/white/blue...she’s had them all. Her favorite saying is “And I am unanimous in that.” Even when she’s the only one involved. Crazy fun.

But one of the most hearty places I learned my sense of humor was M*A*S*H, Hawkeye Pierce to be exact. He knew how to take something totally inane and make it funny, like strolling nude because everyone was bored, or wearing a clown suit to post op because it made the patients’ day. I thought, hey, I so want to be like that. He makes people feel better and makes them laugh.

I won’t say I based my entire act on him, but yeah, there are certainly touches of Hawkeye in what I write. I think a line that comes from Ever Fallen in Love that illustrates my sense of humor most is this little bit:

Tucker sped down the two lane highway to a gravel road. Dust swirled in their wake as he peeled down the stony path. Pole lights towered over a dip in the landscape. Her breath wrenched from her throat as they came to a stop.

“The best place on earth to unwind and find yourself. Works for me every time.” Tucker stood and helped her off the bike. “Nice little rumble between your legs, too, wasn’t it?”

“You would think about sex right now.”

“Took the edge off, didn’t it?” Mischief and something hotter burned in his eyes.

“It did.”

Tucker’s quip is so reminiscent of Hawkeye, the little girl reciting Billy Joel and a slice of life like Are You Being Served? or Night Court. I can’t say it’s the coolest origin or the funniest but it is my own.

Now I ask you, where’d you learn your sense of humor? What do you think contributed to yours? I’m all ears.

And thanks again to Nancy for having me. It’s always a fun day when I get to visit with my pals.

I have to say, my slightly skewed sense of humor is something I inherited from my father. You always had to watch every word in front of him or you paid dearly later. Thanks for another terrific look into one of my favorite minds, Wendi.

Ever Fallen In Love by Wendi Zwaduk

Tucker lost the love of his life once, but this time, he’s not taking no for an answer.

Once a driver, always a driver...

Racing consumes Tucker Poston’s life. Until he sees her again. Megan Rodney. She’s the one person to come between him and his ride. She’s the only woman to understand him. The only woman he’s ever loved. Circumstances tore their love apart. Now he’s determined to show her the contents of his soul, even if it means losing his heart.

Being a driver doesn’t warm his lonely nights. Too bad she’s not interested.

Megan’s not about to fall for his smooth lines and slick image. She’s got a good life as a team owner for a stock car team. Still, memories of their love affair burn bright in her mind. What’s a girl to do when the man of her dreams, the man who pushed her away, wants a second chance at forever?

Contains a little spanking, anal play, and domination shared between former lovers, but no one’s complaining. For good measure, there’s the sizzling use of a Camaro hood for outdoor pleasure.

Excerpt

“I come in peace.” Tucker Poston took a step back. In one hand, he held earphones. In the other, the radio. “Want me to talk to him? I’ve got my own headset. I understand race brain.”

“Race brain?” She rolled her eyes. “You can talk, sure. I didn’t expect you.” I’m not completely upset. She took in the way his t-shirt contoured to the dips and valleys of his chest. Muscles rippled under the soft cotton. She licked her lips. Years ago, she’d spent countless hours touching and tasting his skin. A slow burn started deep in her heart. For a split-second, she’d almost admit she missed him.

“Eric got waylaid. Your rear tire changer had his foot run over by the number four truck.”

“If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” Megan tugged at the hem of her blouse, smoothing out unseen wrinkles. She sucked in her stomach. What would he think of her extra pounds? Guys of Tucker’s calibre liked women in the size two range. Her size eight wasn’t anywhere close.

She turned away and massaged her forehead. She wanted to smack herself. What would he think? What was she thinking! His opinion didn’t matter, regardless of his obvious sex symbol status. She meant nothing to him.

“Eric suggested you and I settle our differences—at the track.” He wrapped the earphones around his neck and clipped the radio to his belt loops. “I want to help you and I’d guess there will be another couple laps under caution. What’s the team frequency?”

“Forty-seven. I can’t afford another trashed truck.”Although her gaze travelled south for a moment or two, Megan groaned. Noticing the way his jeans hugged his body and accentuated the strong muscles in his legs wasn’t going to make Mat a better driver. Nope, all it did was kick her libido, back from a long hibernation, into high gear. Truth be told, she didn’t want to deal with Tucker. The wounds from his betrayal were way too fresh even after ten years. Damn. Coupled with his way of wrapping her around his finger and she didn’t stand a chance of keeping him at bay.

Tucker hooked his index finger under her chin. “Hey, I’ve got a good rapport with him. He’s scared he’s not going to finish or keep his ride. It’s paralyzing. I know where he’s at because I’ve been there too many times.”

Her heart pounded and her hands shook. If she waited another minute, Mat could put the truck into the wall. Then again, Tucker could make another move and get closer. Megan shoved her second thoughts aside in favour of her team.

“See if you can get through to him, Professor Race Brain.” She found the frequency on his headset. “I’ve got faith in you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “I promise you my best.”

Excerpt Two:

“You saved the collective butts of Blitz Racing. We’re appreciative.”

“Keep up the mushy talk and I’ll start thinking you care.” Tucker’s breath warmed her skin. His eye lids drooped, almost as if he wanted to kiss her. “Do you still care?”

“I never stopped, but you lost interest.” There. She’d made her point. Blunt, but she felt a little better. Sort of.

“Touché.” Tucker paused. He cupped her cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the line of her jaw. “I need to get back to MPR, but I’d like to follow Eric’s advice and talk with you some more. This was kinda fun.”

“I suppose you think we owe you, as well.” Her skin tingled from his touch. Not good and yet better than the best.

“You do, but not up here.” Tucker descended down the ladder into the meeting room of the hauler. He held his hand out when Megan reached the bottom rung. “Too many prying eyes up there.”

Not wanting to encourage him, Megan strode out of the truck and stood in the shadow of the hauler. She shielded her eyes. “This is a little better.” She inched close to Tucker and kept her voice low. “And you want me to make it up to you in a very personal way?”

Crimson infused his cheeks. Had she gotten under his skin? He didn’t blush easily. Tucker rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please do make it up to me. I can think of at least three ways right now and one involves the hood of my Impala.”

Megan nodded and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to suppress a smile. “Stop back when the race concludes. It should be worth your while.”

“I’ll be here.” His lips parted and his eyes widened. “I want to tell you, I—I wish I could take back what happened.” He toyed with the knobs on the radio. “I made mistakes, lots of them, but losing you is right at the top.”

He regretted his actions? A shred of the anger she’d held for the past ten years dissipated. “We all have things we’re not proud of.”

“I want to start over and show you I can love you the way you deserve.”

The earnestness in his voice chipped away at the fortifications around her heart. “Let’s not get mixed up. You love racing and race cars, not women.”

“There’s one woman in particular who is very near and dear to my heart. Tell me what you want me to do to make things up to you,” he murmured. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ve still got a set of handcuffs with your name on them.”

She’d bet he did. Handcuffs dangling from his headboard as a reminder of a conquest. Not a lost love. No way.

Megan glanced over Tucker’s shoulder. Her assistant Janine remained a few feet away but crooked her brow and crossed her arms. Thank God for friends with attitudes. Another moment and she’d cave to Tucker’s sweet apologies. “How about you just show up?”

“I see you haven’t taken the teardrop off.”

“It went with my outfit.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll be here—later.” Tucker tipped his hat and jaunted away.

Once again, thanks to Wendi for visiting-be sure to leave your email with your comment, and one lucky person on the tour will win a $10 GC from Amazon.

A Bit of a Brainstorm

2011-07-29T00:01:00.001-05:00

So far, my guests have been of the more romantic temperament, but the first books that enchanted me were science fiction and the fanastic worlds and ideas they put forth. So when I was given the chance to host Gordon A. Kessler on the release of his latest, Brainstorm, I jumped at the chance. Gordon will be awarding one lucky commenter on his tour the winner's choice of a basic Kindle, Kobo, Sony Reader or Nook. What a fantastic chance. But first, a bit about Gordon A. Kessler.

Gordon A Kessler is a former US Marine parachutist, recon scout, and Super Squad team leader, with a bachelor's degree in creative writing. He is a Master Instructor for Johnson County Community College, National Academy of Railroad Sciences, and the BNSF Railway. He has taught novel writing for Butler County Community College, English Composition for Hutchinson Junior College and has previously indie-published the thriller novels Jezebel and Dead Reckoning, and a book about the novel-writing craft, Novel Writing Made Simple. He is a founder and former president of the Kansas Writers Association and tries to stay connected to writers and the writing industry by doing speaking engagements at writers conferences and for writers organizations, and has does his own "The Storyteller" seminar in Wichita, Lincoln (Nebraska), Kansas City, and other Midwestern cities based on his Novel Writing Made Simple book. His websites, www.WritersMatrix.com and www.IndieWritersAlliance are landing pages for writers to help them in their writing endeavors.

Thank you for hosting me on the My Odd Little World Blog!

I’ve been asked about the challenges of writing science fiction in today’s ever expanding knowledge base. What a great and insightful question, by the way!

Science Fiction has changed considerably over the recent past—it’s expanded, going places that we hadn’t imagined twenty or thirty years ago. Actually, in today’s times, it seems we’re living science fiction compared to back then. And everything imaginable is available on the Internet—good, bad, truth and BS.

My first two thriller novels are not Sci-Fi, rather; Jezebel is a horror thriller, and Dead Reckoning is a mystery thriller. The Sci-Fi in Brainstorm is near future, fringe paranormal sort of stuff. I wanted it to be somewhat believable set in today’s political climate. So, good or bad, I made it timely. Ten years from now, folks might say it’s “dated”. I think that’s okay, because with all Sci-Fi, the main thread or theme needs to be about universal truths. With that underlying glue to tie the story together, I believe that the reader will accept that a story written ten years ago might not be up to par with the latest technology or the current speculative stabs at what the future holds.

With the Internet, you can research any topic into the ground. You can find out nearly everything about anything—some of the info true, some erroneous. The possibilities are endless—only limited to the writer’s imagination. But it all boils down to what you do with that information, this all-knowing power that you have at your fingertips. It’s fun. It’s a challenge to use just the right ingredients to make a perfect Sci-Fi consume that will satisfy the majority of your readers. But, again, the stock of that story soup is always going to be a good, solid universal truth.

Thank you again. I hope you’ll check out the Brainstorm book trailer on YouTube.com at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eDjWJFbRdI and you’ll find Brainstorm, Jezebel and Dead Reckoning all available in paperback, hardcover and even as Kindle and Nook eBooks (on sale during the blog for only $.99!), and you can find out more about me and my work at my website: www.GordonKessler.com. Happy Reading!

In Brainstorm, Gold Rush seems to be just another sleepy little Colorado community full of friendly, caring citizens, quaint cottages, and a sort of quiet peace, held gently by the picturesque mountains that surround it. However, something isn't right in Gold Rush, and early on a Monday morning Robert Weller awakens with a cautioning and insuppressible voice inside his head. He soon finds a secret behind every door, a motive with every glance, and a lie beneath every spoken word.

After meeting a strange but beautiful woman named Sunny who insists they were once lovers, people begin dropping dead around him and his world twists upside down as paramilitary teams hunt him, and his own wife and friends turn against him. Weller is thrown into the middle of a military mission to rescue thousands of the town's citizens from a plot to destroy the Free World.

Time is running out: Weller, Sunny and thousands of innocent citizens are facing nuclear devastation. Major “Jax” Jackson and a U.S. Air Force Para Rescue team are their only hope—but how can Jax and his PJs save them all, armed only with nonlethal weapons?

Excerpt from Brainstorm

“It’s time,” Major Lionel Jackson said and patted the back of Sunny McMaster’s hand. In the red night lighting inside their armored vehicle, her slender ivory hand seemed to glow, appearing remarkably delicate in his dark palm. But he knew it wasn’t fragile. “Ready?”

“God, yes,” she said, her voice determined and confident.

Jackson released Sunny’s hand, then turned to the forward viewfinder and pulled down the microphone attached to his helmet. “Lion Team, move out,” he said evenly, and the driver in front of Jackson cocked his head back and repeated the order over his shoulder.

The mission to rescue Sunny’s husband and several dozen other missing elite citizens thought to be held in Gold Rush, Colorado, began under presidential directive —regardless that the latest reconnaissance reports indicated it was a ghost town.

Their six Stryker vehicles set out quickly and without faltering like dark, single-minded ants on a sugar trail, churning down the gravel roadway leading to the small town ten miles away. A blue-white full moon hugged the ridge behind their boulder-littered staging area, its frosty radiance washing over the rocky cliff sides and the snaking passage before them.

Inside the leading personnel carrier, the man known to his military peers as the Black Lion once again turned in his seat toward Sunny. Major Jackson never dreamed he’d see this woman dressed in black fatigues and combat boots, her fiery-red hair pinned back and hidden under a helmet. What she’d worn the first time they met in Maui was quite different—a wedding dress. Jackson had been best man, and the ceremony was in his garden. That was fifteen years ago.

Sunny asked, “How ‘bout you, Jax? You ready?”

He knew she meant emotionally, not militarily. As he pushed his small microphone out of the way, he returned a thin smile. “We’re going to find Dan, Sunny,” he said. “I’m sure of it. We’re going to find him, and he’s going to be . . .” He hesitated, knowing okay or even alive was a promise he couldn’t keep. Instead, he simply repeated, “We’re going to find him.”

His words seemed to cause a tear to trickle from her eyes, and he grimaced, realizing she’d understood his indecisive pause.

Sunny looked away and wiped the moisture from her cheek. When she turned back with her jaw clenched, her eyes set hard on Jackson. Through the crimson glow inside the armored vehicle, she stared—face stone-like and expressionless—and Jackson did his best to hide his anxiety. She seemed to look through him, gazing at something just out of reach in the past. Her tears were gone, any redness in her eyes imperceptible in the red night lighting. In her face was a grittiness Jackson had seen in only a handful of men, the ones sure to become great soldiers. But the major wanted no part in making the beautiful redhead before him into a Kevlar-tough warrior. He wished he had another choice, but today Sunny could play an important role in bringing in her husband and saving dozens of lives.

People were disappearing. Scientists, surgeons and men and women of special abilities were vanishing from all over the world, particularly from the United States. Jackson hoped that at least one of those presumed abducted, Daniel McMaster, hadn’t become a traitor—that he wouldn’t have to kill his best friend.

www.ReadersMatrix.com ;

www.WritersMatrix.com ;

www.IndieWritersAlliance.com ;

http://www.facebook.com/gordon.kessler1

embed code for Book Trailer:

Link for book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eDjWJFbRdI

Once again, I want to thank Gordon A. Kessler for stopping by, and remind everyone that he is giving away a wonderful prize to one lucky commenter. And here are a few comments on Gordon's work to pique your interest.

“...as exciting and fast-paced as a thrill ride on a dive bomber, a maelstrom of action, violence, murder and mayhem, way too much fun to put down...based on an actual black CIA program known as ‘Project Stargate. Kessler...really knows his stuff. An outstanding novel.”— Douglas Preston, bestselling author of The Codex, Relic and Book of the Dead and many more.

"...a wild ride into the reality of human consciousness...a kickass adventure story that will have you thrumming through the pages well into the night...handled with stunning effect."— James Rollins, bestselling author of Black Order, Sandstorm and Map of Bones as well as many others.