Saturday, August 6, 2011

My First Ménage

Heather Rainier writes erotic ménage romance and shares with Desert Island keepers her memory of...
 
My First Ménage

I’ll never forget them as long as I live. The big, sometimes demanding alpha, his gentler and more diplomatic brother and their dark, damaged younger sibling. They made no secret of what they wanted and I was enthralled from the moment I realized “it” was really going to happen. What amazed me most was that they didn’t want a fling. They wanted forever. I was about to experience my first ménage. My heart pounded as I turned the page…

What? Did you think I was talking about myself? *snicker*

There are a few books I’d take with me for a desert island getaway, but dear to my heart will always be the first ménage romance I ever read, “Colter’s Woman” by Maya Banks.


What’s not to love about the idea of three men devoted to loving you, cooking for you and protecting you from evil-doers? Reading that book, along with a few notable others, was the beginning of something wonderful in my life. Within their tantalizing pages, I explored taboos, secret lives and heroines with hearts so big they had enough love in them for more than one man.

A couple of years later I celebrated the realization of a long-held dream of becoming a published author with the release of my first erotic ménage romance, a contemporary western entitled “Divine Grace.”


So, if I ever get to that desert island, you can bet Holly, Adam, Ethan and Ryan Colter are coming with me.

If you’ve never read a ménage romance, “Colter’s Woman” holds a special place in my heart and I’d recommend it to anyone. If you enjoy erotic ménage romances, why not leave me a comment and tell me about your favorites.


Heather Rainier writes erotic romance exclusively for Siren Publishing. Her latest release, Maya’s Triple Dare, book 8 in the Divine Creek Ranch Collection is available at Siren-Bookstrand. Also visit Heather’s website.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Overcoming Obstacles (and a giveaway)

Please raise your cocktails glasses and give a warm tropical welcome to author Sandy James!

I’m thrilled to be blogging at DIK! Thanks so much for having me!

I thought a lot about what to write—everything from writing to publishing to finding agents. But they always say to write what you know, so I’m veering a little bit to talk about what it’s like to be a writer with a “silent illness.”

What do I mean by silent? I have lupus. If you see me, you’d say, “You look perfectly healthy!” Well, yeah. Thanks. I do. It’s what you don’t see that makes my road a little more rocky.

Let me back up a second and explain what lupus is. Our bodies have the great ability to make antibodies to kill off things that attack us. Like viruses. These little soldiers go to war and kill off whatever they are sent to attack. In people with autoimmune illnesses, those fantastic little antibodies decide to target a certain part of the body and set about destroying it.


In my case—which is fairly typical of women with lupus—the main symptoms are fatigue and pain. And I’m not talking the I’m-dragging-and-need-some-coffee fatigue. It’s more like moving-is-simply-impossible-for-a-while fatigue. But I swallow it down best I can and drag my behind out of bed to face a classroom full of far-too-energetic high school seniors every day. I’m lucky because I can do that. Many lupus victims can’t. In fact, many victims of “silent illnesses” can’t.


Another author friend of mine has multiple sclerosis. You’d never know it from looking at her, which is my point. I admire that she keeps churning out bestselling novel after bestselling novel regardless of the disease. She’s an inspiration to me and one of the reasons I keep my butt in the chair and hands on the keyboard despite how blah I might feel.


Perhaps the message here is more along the lines of “never assume,” which is good advice in general. If you see a woman in her thirties getting out of a car she just parked in a handicapped spot, but she isn’t limping, doesn’t need a cane, and looks fine to you, never assume she is simply looking for a great parking spot. Maybe she has rheumatoid arthritis. Or chronic fatigue syndrome. Or even a severe case of lupus.


As I said, I’m lucky. The pain I have tends to be in joints and places on my body called “pressure points.” The way it affects my writing is that I sometimes have to coax myself—a lot—into churning out a few thousand more words instead of taking that nap. And if I sit too long in one position, when I get up, I look a little like the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz. Nothing works quite right, and it takes some work and quite a bit of grimacing to get things functioning again. I don’t let it stop me. Probably because I’m more stubborn than God should ever allow a person to be. (At least that’s what my husband tells me all the time…)


I think being stubborn is important to a writer. We have to persevere because the road to publishing ain’t easy. In fact, it’s downright treacherous. So we have to keep plugging away, no matter the obstacles. Illnesses. Family obligations. Rejections. All these things—and more!—we simply have to learn to address and compensate for, or they will become nothing but excuses.


So what are the hurdles you have to jump to be able to write? I’d love to hear your story!


*hugs*
Sandy James

http://www.sandy-james.com


Sandy has been wonderful and is offering one lucky winner a copy of one of her books!  To enter just leave a comment and your email address.  Contest runs until 7:00pm (pacific) on Saturday, August 6th. 

These are the books you have to choose from.  
Blurbs can be read here.


Thursday, August 4, 2011

Guest Author Julia Barrett Giveaway

Creative Freedom

a note from paranormal romance author, Julia Barrett.


I thought long and hard about self-publishing. I wasn’t worried about striking out on my own; I’m used to blazing my own path. Regardless of whether we are with a publisher or publish a book ourselves, every author wonders if his or her work will be accepted and, most importantly, read. That’s normal. The technical aspects were scary, but friends helped – actually author friends were life-savers.

The barebones concept of Incorporeal, a ghost romance, was rejected by three different publishers.

“A ghost romance won’t work,” I was told. “Nobody wants to read about a dead man.”

Well, I did, I wanted to find out how Sara Wise, a reluctant ghost seer, fell in love with Natan de Manua, a man who’d been dead for five hundred years.

I wanted to know, is love stronger than death? Can these two unlikely lovers have an HEA? WHAT DO YOU THINK?

Here’s an excerpt:
Sara stood on the porch, her purse over her shoulder, keys in her hand. She didn’t want to leave him. “You’re sure you’ll be all right?”

Nathan grinned at her, his grin heating her all the way down to her toes. “I’ve lived in this house for three months. I’m sure I’ll be safe for one day.”

“If you take a shower, don’t scald yourself. Test the water first. I left you a full pot of coffee and there’s cream and sugar if you don’t like it black. And be sure to drink water. Remember, you need to drink water now or you’ll get dehydrated. Eat whatever you want, but maybe it would be better if you didn’t use the stove, and…”

“Sara, shhhhh.” Nathan slid a warm hand beneath her chin. Tilting her head up, he kissed her soundly. When he ended the kiss, he said, “I’ll be fine. Go.”

“You’re sure you can’t come with me? You can’t come outside?”

He shook his head. “I cannot cross the threshold.”

Sara studied his face. “You’re sure?”

Nathan gazed down, first at his bare feet, and then his eyes roved over the grass, green and lush from the winter rains. “I’m tempted to try, but no, I cannot leave this house.”

“What will happen if you do?” Sara cleared her throat and waited for his answer.

Nathan rocked back on his heels. “I believe I would vanish again and I have no desire to become incorporeal.” He winked at her. “I would miss the taste of your, uh, coffee.”

Sara couldn’t hold back what she knew was an ear to ear grin. “All right, I’ll go.” She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Be here when I get home. I have more questions for you. Promise you’ll be here.”

“I promise.”

“Okay, bye.” She continued to stand on the porch steps.

“Sara, you must let go of my hand if you wish to get to work on time.”

“Right.” She laughed out loud. “I’m going. It’s just that, well, over the years I’ve met many incorporeal beings, but never one like you.” She stared at Nathan for a moment. “There’s something we never got around to discussing, and I have to ask this question because it’s going to bug me all day.”

“Ask your question.”

Sara took a deep breath and blew it out. “What are you?”

It seemed to Sara that Nathan looked everywhere but into her eyes. At last he met her gaze. “I don’t know. Sara, I wish to hell I did, but I don’t know what I am.”

Sara knew she should leave, but she couldn’t let go of Nathan’s hand. “One more question. What language do you speak? I mean, when we make love, sometimes you say things to me, words that don’t sound like Spanish.”

Nathan’s smile crinkled his eyes, causing her heart to flip-flop. “I speak Castilian, Andaluz, Arabic and Hebrew, Greek, Latin and of course, English. I’m not always aware which language I use when we make love.”

Blushing now, Sara made a move to leave the porch, but Nathan tugged her back. “You have another question on the tip of your tongue. I can sense it.”

Holding back her laughter, Sara asked him, “You can, can you?”

“Yes. I’ve come to know you very well. Remember, I watched you for a very long time before I made my presence known.”

“Hey, that’s right. About that…” Nathan drew her into his arms, interrupting her thoughts.
“I have to leave, Nathan.” Sara looked up at him.

“Yes, I know. Ask your question.”

She rubbed her cheek against his rough linen shirt, realizing she’d have to buy him some clothes now that he was corporeal. “Your mother,” Sara murmured. “What was her name?”

Nathan’s chest expanded as he answered. “Katherine Neville.”

For an instant, the name didn’t register. Sara sucked in a breath and took a step back.

“Katherine Neville, as in the War of the Roses Nevilles? You said she was from a semi-royal family. Did you mean, like, the Kingmaker’s family? Richard Neville?”

Nathan nodded. One look at the expression on his face told Sara it would be better to leave well enough alone, at least for now. She rose on tip-toes and gave him a kiss before leaving him, forcing her legs to walk to the garage. This is a lot to digest.

“Will you write it?” He called after her, his voice low. “Will you include my mother in your book?”

Sara turned. “I don’t know, Nathan. I don’t know that I want to finish the book.”

Before she could run back to him and bury herself in his arms, she threw up the garage door and climbed behind the wheel of her car. Unreality is starting to set in. I’ve got to leave because I’m about to convince myself that I’ve lost my mind. There is no other explanation; at least nothing logical comes to mind.

In fact, the only real question here involves my sanity.

Sara backed the car down the driveway, shooting a glance at the house. The front door was closed and Nathan was nowhere in sight. The story of his family’s fate spun round and round in her brain like a windmill.

They were burned by the Inquisitors. The Crown confiscated his father’s wealth only to lose it a year later. His mother was a Neville. I’m in love with a man who’s been dead for over five hundred years. But he doesn’t remember dying. Gaaaa! Sara smacked the steering wheel with her open palm. Quit it! You’ll go mad if you think about the impossible nature of, well, this, of everything. Nathan is impossible. Sure there are ghosts, you’ve seen plenty, but Nathan’s presence is simply impossible.

He can’t exist. You’re in love with a man who can’t exist on any plane. Not on earth, not in heaven, and not in hell. Apparently, he’s only corporeal in your house and between your thighs.
Sara stopped at a red light and rested her forehead on her hands. Your mother was right, you know; you girl, are certifiable. I wish my dad was still alive.

Thanks so much to Ms. Barrett for stopping by to chat with us!

For your chance to win a pdf ebook of Incorporeal, answer her question above!

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

eBook Giveaway: Brightest Kind of Darkness by P.T. Michelle

Leave a comment on this post (along with your email contact) no later than Saturday, August 6th at 7:00pm to enter to win a free ebook copy of Brightest Kind of Darkness.  Winner will be announced on Sunday, August 7th.

Brightest Kind of Darkness is a dark paranormal YA full of mystery, adventure, romance, and even a touch of horror.

Nara Collins is an average sixteen-year-old, with one exception: every night she dreams the events of the following day. Due to an incident in her past, Nara avoids using her special gift to change fate…until she dreams a future she can’t ignore.

After Nara prevents a bombing at Blue Ridge High, her ability to see the future starts to fade, while people at school are suddenly being injured at an unusually high rate.

Grappling with her diminishing powers and the need to prevent another disaster, Nara meets Ethan Harris, a mysterious loner who seems to understand her better than anyone. Ethan and Nara forge an irresistible connection, but as their relationship heats up, so do her questions about his dark past.

Read an excerpt : http://www.ptmichelle.com/brightest-kind-of-darkness/

Purchase Links
Amazon | Barnes & Noble


Patrice
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Patrice Michelle | Twitter | Facebook


P.T. Michelle | Twitter | Facebook
BRIGHTEST KIND OF DARKNESS - July 2011

Monday, August 1, 2011

What Type of Stories Make It To Your DIK Shelves?

Please welcome author P.T. Michelle to the our Island home!

Hello everyone!

Thanks so much to Tracy for inviting me back to DIK. If any of you have read my Patrice Michelle novels, you know I love writing about sexy alpha heroes *rowr* (as a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure "sexy alpha heroes" is what I discussed when I visited the DIK blog a few years ago. :) )

I've been reading and writing about tough, confident men (with their own irresistible brand of arrogance LOL) for years when I branched out and and read some wonderful young adult stories that made me sit up and take notice. What I loved most about the YA romances was the slow build. I was taken with the off-the-charts chemistry portrayed in the young adult stories. WHERE were these stories when I was a teen? ;)

When I wrote my young adult BRIGHTEST KIND OF DARKNESS, I strove to create a hero who was a younger version of the types of heroes I've always written. Those thirty-something seductive men we gobble up in adult romances weren't always so irritatingly yet lovingly confident. They started out with their own doubts and worries, had to experience some rough times and tough circumstances to help them mature into the men they would ultimately become. But as young men, they were already the stubborn, dependable guys they would ultimately become--the kind of guy a girl dreams about, the kind of guy a girl fights for through thick and thin.

In the BRIGHTEST KIND OF DARKNESS series, my goal is to write an electrifying, simmering burn between Ethan and Nara; an emotional connection that sparks and crackles, building with raised stakes and explosive revelations along the way until their story culminates to a fulfilling and satisfying ending.

Sometimes I'm in the mood to read an electric, flash-burn type of romance. Other times I'm in the mood for an intense, make-you-squirm-until-they-finally-FINALLY-connect kind of romance.

How about you? What types of stories make it to your DIK shelves?

All the best,

P.T. (aka Patrice :) )


Don't forget to check back on Wednesday for a chance to win a copy of Brightest Kind of Darkness!
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