Madison Michael’s Beguiling Bachelor Series now on Sale!

 

 
The Beguiling Bachelor Series
By Madison Michael
ALL on SALE for a LIMITED Time
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
FREE until October 13th!
Bedazzled  (Book 1)
A Chance Encounter Can Change Everything…
Keeli Larsen is second-guessing her decision to support herself as an independent jewelry designer. She has no money, no friends, but she knows she has talent. Leaving her job, she rides the elevator one last time with the sexy man from the penthouse office. That ride and a well placed hand are about to change her life.
Millionaire and hot hunk Wyatt Lyons Howe IV is trapped by generations of family loyalty and tradition until a moment in an elevator rocks his staid world. Wyatt is captivated by Keeli’s beauty and fiery spirit, choosing to pursue her and his dreams. He just needs to rid himself of a scheming fiancé, defy his family, conquer his doubts, extricate himself from his traditional life and, of course, find the elusive Keeli again.
Is she Wyatt’s ticket to freedom or is Keeli an opportunist looking for a bankroll? Unsure of her motives, but unable to stay away, Wyatt is bedazzled.
Fans of steamy romances will fall in love with this contemporary retelling of Cinderella, a smart, sexy story, set within the splendor of Chicago’s elite society.
 
Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2K3OL4D
 
Bedazzled is on Kindle Unlimited 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Only $.99 until October 13th!
Beholden (Book 2)
 
 
She’s Lost Everything. He Has Everything…
 
 
This is no docile heroine. Meet Sloane, assertive and tough, desperate for love. Meet Randall, drowning his troubles until Sloane provides a reason to sober up. Beholden is a sexy, romantic romp set in the glamour of Chicago’s elite society.
 
Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2AjMtPg
Beholden is on Kindle Unlimited 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Only $1.99 until October 13th!
 

Bedeviled (Book 3)
 
Join Alex and Charlotte, along with characters you’ve met and loved in “Bedazzled” and “Beholden”, as they tackle the maze of half-truths and cover-ups threatening the lovers.

How can they build a bond with deceit on both sides? With malevolent forces advancing, is their love Bedeviled? 
 
Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2uUHsYu
Bedeviled is now on Kindle Unlimited 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
Only $2.99 
Besotted (Book 4)

Time is Running Out…For Both of Them

Join Tyler and Regan as they seek their happily ever after in the conclusion of the steamy, contemporary Beguiling Bachelor romance series.

Amazon Buy Link: https://amzn.to/2AiK2MQ

 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
About Madison:
 
Madison Michael traded 28 years in Fortune 500 tech and management positions for a chance to spend her days with sassy heroines, sexy, rich heroes and nothing but happy endings. Growing up the daughter of a librarian, she learned to love books, especially classics and romances, and spent winters cuddled under blankets losing herself in books.

Madison is the author of three novels in the Beguiling Bachelor series, as well as several short stories. She is a member of Romance Writers of America.

After living in the northeast, southeast and the west, Maddy returned to her Midwest roots. She lives in Evanston, IL with two feline editorial assistants and great views of Chicago’s famous skyline.

Social Links:
Website: madisonmichael.net
Madison’s Blog: madisonmichael.net/category/maddys-blog
Maddy’s Romance Madness: madisonmichael.net/category/mrm/
Maddy’s Tours and Treats: madisonmichael.net/category/tours-and-treats/
Facebook: facebook.com/madisonmichaelromance
Twitter: twitter.com/madisonmichael_
Amazon Author Page: amazon.com/Madison-Michael/e/B01EVUGG6G/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1


 

Friday Feature: His Midnight Sun by Viviana MacKade

 

 

Hey, it’s Feature Friday, so that means we have a guest poster today. Please welcome Viviana MacKade as she shares with us a little about her upcoming release, His Midnight Sun!

 

 

 

 

 

His Midnight Sun

by Viviana MacKade

 

Tormented, fierce, and broken, sculptor Aidan Murphy has judged himself guilty. He yearns for love but pushes everyone away. He longs for acceptance but has lost the key to open his heart. Until he meets Summer Williams. Beautiful and smart, Dr. Williams promises haven for a man who believes he deserves none. All he has to do is let her in and risk his heart and soul.

Summer’s managed to keep her inner light alive, even through tragedy. She’s created a new life for herself and her daughter in Crescent Creek with loving, caring and fun friends–well, except brooding, breathtaking Aidan. She’s used to keeping away from his type, though. All she has to do is ignore the pull of a man who’s turning up to be much more than snarls and storms. Will her compassion and medical instincts let her?

Love can heal a broken soul and shake up a timid heart. Or it can unleash devastation and revenge.

Will Aidan and Summer survive the hurricane?

 

Release September 15, available for pre-sale

$ 0.99 FREE with KU

On Amazon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

I didn’t realize His Midnight Sun had a theme until well after I finished it. Honestly, I don’t write to teach, preach or any other significant and profound reason. I write to entertain. To give people a break. I like to think my stories are fairy tales for adults, where the characters go through changes and problems and tragedies, but will get to the happily ever after. The great Susan Elizabeth Phillips said that life is too short to waste with depressing books, and that sums perfectly the way I want my books to be.

An escape. Heaven knows if we all need it one sometimes.

So I didn’t have anything in mind other than telling Aidan’s story when I started.

And what do you know, I found myself with a phoenix’s story. A man who learns how to leave the past where it’s supposed to stay, who learns how to forgive himself and how to accept love. And through him, I discovered the same things. In many ways, Aidan’s story is my story, his demons are my demons, and because of him, I saw a way to boot them out.

Summer showed him the power of love–not just romantic love, but for the other people. For friends and strangers alike. Which turned out to be the theme of the book.

The healing power of love.

 

 

Excerpt

Chapter 1

 

Crescent Creek, early July.

With no fight left in him, Aidan Murphy sank down on the wooden floor of his home studio.

Done.

Aidan filled his burning sight with the finished, almost 7 feet tall piece of art. Hell to work on, pure and simple, but it couldn’t be helped, not when it had called to him with such powerful voice.

Two weeks earlier, he’d been wandering around the stone-site when his skin began humming, and his heart beating faster. Years of sculpting had taught him how to hear the calling, the silent scream of whatever form lay trapped inside the rocks begging him to free it.

He’d followed his guts like so many times before and laying a palm on the cold, white alabaster, had known something waited in there. He’d bought the squared monstrosity, never stopped working on it since the day it had been delivered to his address. At every bite of the masonry blade, at every kiss of the chisel and caress of the rasp, its voice had been easier to hear, pushing him, constantly pushing him to keep going, keep working.

A couple had emerged from the stone and if beauty could hurt, by God, this one would in so many ways. Those two people were set to break any viewer’s heart. Nothing happy or gleeful about them, nothing about being lost in the fallacy of love; the pair stood in a tight embrace made of disillusion and reality. Rightfully so, because wasn’t love just that? Another form of pain? A delusion?

Aidan shook his head. Whatever love was for the average person, these two people he’d given life to scratched at the thick walls of his reticent heart. He didn’t care for such shit.

Much smarter to focus on his very real, very tired body.

Too bad the small motherfucker rock poked at the edge of his consciousness, staring from the opposite side of the room.

Not the colossal couple he’d just freed from alabaster. Oh, no, the one giving him attitude was a stupid overgrown pebble slightly smaller than his fist. Why was it even in the house? He’d cut outside, it made no sense for it to be there. “Shut the fuck up,” he grumbled, rubbing exhausted eyes with scarred, dirty hands.

Never a stone’s call had been left unanswered, but… fuck it, it was too much, too soon. He needed time to return human before starting a new project and besides, what could possibly be inside that little piece of shit? A fucking bug? “Fuck off.”

Of course, the nagging didn’t stop.

Ignoring the silent pull to the useless stone, he got up, walked to the other side of the room, picked it up and all but crashed it on his desk. “Better leave it alone, matey. Next time you bug me, I’ll turn you into sable. Ugly fucker.”

Aches pulsed and hissed everywhere; a thin layer of dust, crumble of wax, and sweat covered him, made his skin prickle. For all the good clothes had done to him, he might as well work buck naked next time.

Back in front of the new statue he stood, hands on hips, looking at it–tall and strong, fiercely beautiful in its message of pain. Perfect.

A sudden ray of light stabbed his eyes, made him jerk his head in protection. Fucking morning sun. Or afternoon sun. He had no clue. It was hard to tell the passing of time when he got lost in the wild, strenuous journey into the heart of a rock.

How many days had gone since it had been delivered and he’d started working on it, four? Probably more as not bruising the stone had slowed everything down. He’d heard fireworks in the distance, so Independence Day had come and gone. Hard to say how long had passed after it.

For days he’d eaten bread straight from the plastic bag or some other easy crap when hunger punched his stomach; had drank lukewarm water from bottles scattered everywhere; slept on the couch when he made it so far from the sculpture, although most of the times he’d pass out on the hard floor until discomfort woke him up, and he’d go back at the rock again.

Ah, but what an adventure, he thought with awe as he ran a hand over the side of the sculpted woman.

Now he was done, meaning he didn’t want to have anything to do with stones for the near future.

He took a sharp intake of air when the little rock on his desk poked at his mind again. No clue as to when but at some point, the cleaning crew would come, let’s see how the rock would like it. “If I throw you back on the floor, they will get rid of you. That’s right, they’ll throw you away,” he croaked, his damned throat hurting from not having talked in days.

Aidan sat down, stretched his aching legs in front of him, and tried to lean back on his arms; his muscles screamed in protest. 

Shit, he was in pieces, worse than usual.

Giving up, he laid on the dirty floor and closed his eyes–they scratched like sandpaper.

Bed. He craved a bed more than the next breath. Decent food. A shower. After that, the little stone would stop being a bitch and leave him alone. It was only a fucking pebble, a leftover from the couple and too small to have anything special in it, anyway.

He’d wait five minutes, no more, and he’d get up, order food, hit the shower and, finally, pass out on a real bed. Satisfied with the carved couple, clean, and with a full belly.

Just five more minutes.

 

THE AUTHOR

Beach bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding, hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family.

 

Find me:

On my website http://www.viviana-mackade.blog/

On FB

On Twitter

Amazon Author page

 

The Mature Writer: Accepting What You Don’t Want to Hear

There’s an adage for lawyers that goes something like this: Don’t ask a question in court you don’t already know the answer to.

The idea being that if you don’t know how the witness is likely to respond, you may have just opened up a whole can of worms you now have to deal with.

The same holds true for getting an opinion on your WIP. If you’re not prepared to deal with worms, perhaps you should refrain from seeking that opinion.

Last year I began a WIP (actually the origin story for the Redclaw series) and was writing gangbusters on it until a series of family tragedies derailed my writing for most of the last fifteen months. Before I’d abandoned the story, my critique group had loved it–they thought it was the best thing I’d written so far. I kind of liked it myself, and yet when I tried to go back to working on it again, I seemed to be stuck. Part of the problem was that my vision of the story had changed significantly from when I first began working on it–and the new beginning no longer fit well with older material. Part of the problem was that having just finished writing another story that had been difficult for me to complete for the same reasons as I mentioned before, I was having a hard time getting back into this older story. But I suspected I wasn’t being objective, so I asked my editor to read over what I had from a developmental standpoint.

Now mind you, I almost never let anyone read an unfinished draft. It took me a long time to get comfortable with the idea of having my critique group read drafts as they were being written. So it was a great act of trust to turn over this fledgling story to my new editor, but she’d done such a great job helping me get the last book to market that I decided her input was worth potentially hurting my feelings.

Here’s the feedback I got–and my reaction–more or less… (Go to the link if you want to see the crying GIF).

Developmental Editor: I love your WIP! The characters, the dialogue, the pacing–all fantastic! There’s just one thing… a small plot point that will require you to rewrite the first third of the story to fix. No biggie.

Me: Okay. I think I’ll go clean litterboxes now. Thanks.

Generally speaking, I’m usually my own harshest critic. I’m the one who thinks the story sucks, that I’ll never be as good a writer as I want to be. It’s not that I don’t want to hear that something is wrong with a story in progress–it’s just that I’ve probably already realized it and am beating myself up about fixing it. It’s one of the reasons I rarely share WIPs with anyone–I have to make sure the story has a strong enough foundation before I begin tearing it down.

That said, I’m usually an adult about criticism. If the recommended changes are something I vehemently disagree with (on the lines of “Oh, hell no!”), I’m comfortable saying so and ignoring the advice. More often than not, the critique suggests altering something relatively minor–playing up one plot point over another, or doing away with an unnecessary subplot. I’m not so precious about my work that I dig my heels in when advised to cut out two pages of pretty-but-useless exposition because it is slowing down the story, and I have a pretty darn good grasp of who my characters are and what they want in that first draft. Most of my failings as a writer are more from lack of quality to the execution than a misunderstanding of what the story needs.

But I’ll admit a little shock of dismay when I got back my editor’s critique. 

Unfortunately, she was right. The things she pointed out as flaws definitely need to be addressed–and I can’t move forward with the story until I do. She was also wrong–in that to her, this would be a relatively simple thing to fix. I don’t think so. I think it will require rewriting nearly every line from the beginning to where I am now. The changes she’s suggested can’t just be slapped on top of the existing story. Threads must be pulled, traced back to the source, and rewoven along the way. The recommended changes will alter the very fabric of the story by fundamentally altering the heroine herself.

And I really regretted opening that can of worms.

I resisted her recommendations. I made excuses as to why it couldn’t be done. I was on a deadline–granted, self-imposed, but on one just the same. This was the third time I’d started this story–did I really want to re-write it again from the beginning? Could I do it without irrevocably changing the tone of the story? Did I have enough room to tell the new and improved story within the scope of one book? 

Ultimately, my decision to capitulate was based on the irrefutable fact that she was right–and also on a scene between Lord Peter and Harriet Vane in Have His Carcase. I’m going to have to paraphrase, as all my books are packed for the upcoming renovations, but the gist of it is this: Harriet, struggling with the current mystery she’s writing, complains to Peter about the motives of her murderer. Peter tosses out a couple of suggestions, making Harriet realize that while he is right, changing the murderer’s motivations will be a painful process for her, both personally and as a writer, and she says so.

Peter’s reaction is somewhat brutal. “What difference does that make, if it makes for a better story?”

Ultimately, Lord Peter is right. And so is my editor. And whether it takes me another six months or a year to make things right with my current story, I need to do so. Because bottom line, what matters most to me is telling the best story I possibly can.

Janet Lane Walters: Author Interview and Book Spotlight for Bast’s Warrior

 

  • Hello! I’m delighted to have you here with us, Janet, sharing about your writing process. I have to say, I’m a sucker for anything that has to do with Ancient Egyptian mythology, so the book you chose to spotlight really caught my eye!

 

 

  • First, please tell us a little about yourself and the kinds of stories you like to write. Would you say there is an underlying theme behind your stories?

        I’ve been published for 50 years but my career in writing was one done by bits and starts. Raising four children, one of them an adopted biracial child took more and more time. As did returning to college for a BA in English and a BS in Nursing. There was a break from the late 1970s until 1984 when I wrote little other than papers, worked as a nurse and did some ghost writing for doctors. Then I went to a writer’s conference held by the Hudson Valley RWA and began writing in ernest while working part-time as an orthopedic nurse. Jane Toombs, my friend and critique partner sold one of my books to her publisher in 1994. Several years later I discovered electronic publishing, again encouraged by Jane. My first ebook came out in 1998 and I’ve been exclusively ebook with some of the books going to print since them.

        I’ve written a lot of books. I don’t keep track of the number and there is the one I’m working on now and several more outlined. What do I write? There are the contemporary series, many of them involved with nurses and doctors but not all. There are the fantasy and paranormal novels for both adults and YA readers. There are the mysteries. There are also non-fiction books. One of these garnered an EPIC award for Jane and myself – Words Perfect – Becoming Your Own Critique Partner.  What I do not write or read are horror stories. I also don’t write true action adventure stories or science fiction though I read them avidly. I always have a book I’m reading or re-reading on my Kindle.

        A theme in my books is probably general. Good overcomes Evil. Happy ending are possible. Also, gemstones and caves abound. Some kind of medicine, even psychic healing are seen. I guess like my writing, my themes are eclectic.

  • Holy cow, Janet! That’s an impressive resume, both in terms of writing and juggling a family and demanding professional career as well! What part of the world do you call home? Can you tell us a little about where you grew up and where you live now?

At present I live in a Hudson River village, not far from West Point and NYC. Years ago, I cane to visit a friend and fell in love with the area. Edward Hopper, the painter grew up here and once Helen Hayes was a resident. There are houses from colonial days to very modern ones.  My home is a Dutch Colonial built around 1917.

        I grew up in Western Pennsylvania, not far from Pittsburgh and lived there until after my marriage. After my marriage to my physician husband, we did a bit of moving around the country, having lived in Akron, Ohio, Pawnee, Oklahoma and Fort Worth Texas. We returned to Pittsburgy where my husband did his residency and lived in the area until we moved here.

  • How long have you been writing? Did you write as a child or is it something you developed a passion for later in life?

At this point, I’ve been writing for most of my life and published for the past 50 years. I didn’t become serious about putting stories on paper until around 1962. As a child I was a story-teller. We would sit on the porch and tell ghost stories that we made up. I also wrote plays that we performed in a friend’s garage. Then my writing turned to non-fiction things and papers that the teachers thought were more stories than the facts. As a student nurse, we had to do case studied and I couldn’t keep from adding bits of dialogue and putting in the settings.

That is so fascinating. I love hearing about how other writers found their voice. We’re often told, “Writers should write what they know.” What does this statement mean to you as an author?

When I first began writing I believed writing what I knew meant the doctor nurse stories I wrote. But then that began to bore me and I started branching out. I love mysteries and read thousands so I set out to write mysteries but even then there were things I knew. My heroine was a nurse. I also have read fantasy in huge gulps so I began dabbling in trying fantasy and I also had some experience with psychic healing and read a lot about alternate forms of medicine. These have been woven into my stories. Then one day, I discovered the real thing about writing what you know, and that is emotions. We all have and feel emotions. Each one of us reacts in different ways to the same emotional event. So what I know is my emotions and that’s how you write about what you know.

Are you a panster or a plotter?  Do you outline extensively or write your story as you go along?

I’ll admit to both. When I start a new story, I do a lot of plotting and outlining but then when I begin to right, I go with the flow. The outline is there to get me from the beginning to the end and the middle is a lot of free thinking and writing. Since I’ve been writing for a long, long time msut of my plotting is done in my head. When I begin planning a new story, as I fall asleep, I tell myself the story of the story I’m planning to write. In the morning, I jot down the multitude of ideas that I have and organize them. But when I write it’s all free thought. I write all the rough drafts by hand which allows me to think at the point of the pen and see where each thought takes me.

Of the stories you’ve written, which one would you recommend a new reader begin with?

Now this is a hard question to answer since I write mysteries, romance, paranormal and fantasy. I guess what I would recommend would depend on a reader’s likes. For mysteries. Start with Murder and Mint Tea. Fantasy if you like spicy The Temple of Fyre. If you like sweet – Affinities Escape. For Paranormal Bast’s Warrior, an alternate Egypt story. For romance if you like spice, I’d say Heart Throb, sweet, The Doctor’s Dilemma. There are a lot I believe around 50.

How often does your real life experience figure into your story telling? Do you base characters or stories on your actual experiences?

In a way many of my stories reflect things I’ve experienced in my life. They may not be the exact experience but the emotions will matter. Many of my stories deal with nurses and doctors. I was a nurse and am married to a doctor so there is much I’ve seen or experienced that finds it’s way into my stories. The incidents are always changed in some way but the emotions I’ve experienced or seen are shown in my stories. One of my books involves a nurses union. I was involved in trying to form one in a hospital where I worked. Even in my mysteries, there are bits taken from my life or my experiences. I doubt any writer deals only with things imagined, especially since emotions are part of fictional stories. Think about the times you’ve felt fear, sorrow, happiness and the list goes on.

Editing: love it or hate it?

I ENJOY EDITING. But I’m a draft writer so each time I start a new draft, I’m editing as I write. Then I come to the end of the story drafts and I do a final go through. I love finding new words to use for ones I’ve used too many of too often. I always look at the dialogue to make sure each character speaks with his or her own voice. Actually, I revise until the story makes me sick. Then I know it’s ready to send off to an editor. I’ve always been lucky even when I first began writing not to have too many edits from the editors to change. Sometimes to expand a scene or to clarify something.

I do that in my own writing as well, though I’ve never heard of it being described as draft writing. Very cool–I learned something today!

Do you miss your characters when you come to the end of their story? Do you find ways to write sequels for them or do you become entranced with a new set?

Love some of my characters and find ways to put them into other stories. I do a lot of series. Am finishing one right now called Opposites in Love. This is the final book  The Virgo Pisces Connection. Don’t have a cover yet. This ends the stories of six friends who met in college studying nursing moved away and now are back in the same town not far from the college. The heroines have one astrological sign and the heros the opposite signs.  I have other series where the characters may or may not connect but the town is the same. I do have a YA series in which the five main characters play a large role in each of the four books. This is the Affinities series. So I do series mostly where there are new characters introduced in each. Of course my Mrs. Miller’s mysteries have the same heroine in each book and appearances by other friends from other books. It has the longest developed romance, taking four books until she’s married.

Blurb for Bast’s Warrior:

Tira flees a threat to her life and encounters two elderly women who offer her the chance to be sent to an alternate ancient Egypt with no thought of return. She has had a fascination with Egypt and can even read hieroglyphics. Once there she will be given a task. Failure could mean death. Dare she take the chance and can she find the lost symbols of the rule before an enemy finds them? 

Kashe, son of the nomarch of Mero is in rebellion. His father desires him to join the priesthood of Aken Re, a foreign god. He feels he belongs to Horu, god of warriors and justice. He decides to leave home, meets Tira and joins her in the search for the symbols of the rule. Will his aid bring good fortune and will their growing love keep them from making a fatal mistake?

“This engaging voyage into an ancient Egypt that includes power-hungry priests and hazardous treasure hunts entertains from page one. Familial intrigue heightens the tension, as does a kidnapping or two. The cast of characters is dynamic and complements the well-conceived plot.” ~ 4 Stars, Susan Mobley, Romantic Times Magazine

Excerpt:

Tira opened her eyes and stifled a gasp. Where was she? The surface beneath her was softened by a thin pad. She turned her head and bumped her temple against a hard surface. Some kind of headrest prevented her from appraising her vicinity. The substitute for a pillow wasn’t very comfortable. The cover felt like linen rather than the thin cotton sheet she used. She raised herself to a sitting position and the sheet slid to her waist. Light streamed through a series of openings set high on one of the white plastered walls.

Her heart fluttered in a series of rapid beats. Think. Had she been kidnapped and sold as some kind of sex slave? She drew a deep breath. Why did nothing smell familiar? She was Tira. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Someone had died. Why couldn’t she remember who had betrayed her?

She wiped her face on a corner of the sheet. Memories prickled with the same sensation in her head as when an arm or leg woke after falling asleep. If you could go to ancient Egypt tonight even if the Two Lands is not the one you’ve studied, would you go?

She had agreed. Had she somehow been transported to another Egypt? So far she’d seen nothing to prove or disprove the theory. The bed and the headrest had been pictured in books she’d read about the ancient land of the pharaohs.

Now what? She couldn’t remain in bed and she definitely couldn’t leave this room in the nude. Clothing was her first objective. She slid from the narrow cot and nearly fell. The bed stood on a wide platform. Tira visually explored the room and noticed a stack of near-white cloth on a backless bench. She wrapped the sheet around herself and crossed the room.

On a low table she found a pottery pitcher and a bowl. She dipped a cloth taken from the rim of the bowl into the water and washed. The heated air dried her skin.

As she studied the bench she noticed the legs were shaped like the feet of a feline. She drew a deep breath. She had arrived in ancient Egypt. One by one she lifted the pieces of cloth from the bench and studied them. Get dressed and learn where you are and why you’re here.

After several attempts she managed to clothe herself. One strip formed a breast band. A second, she used as a loincloth. The third was a wraparound short skirt rather like a kilt. A leather belt held a knife and a pouch containing a black substance she decided was kohl. Since she had no idea how to apply the stuff she decided to pass.

She looked for shoes and found sandals. She sat on the bench and slipped a foot beneath the leather straps. She drew the shin guards up her leg and fastened the leather ties. Surprisingly they fit. The leather soles didn’t slip on the stone floor when she performed a series of warm-up exercises.

The beaded curtains in the doorway rattled. Tira slid into an attack position. Two elderly women entered the room. Tira stared. Were they the ones who had sheltered her for a time? They looked similar.

One of the women wore the same clothes as Tira. Her graying hair was cropped short like Tira’s but the woman’s didn’t curl.

The second woman’s hair was dark and cut shoulder length. Was it a wig? The woman’s ankle-length sheath bared her breasts. A collar necklace covered her upper chest.

When Tira tried to talk about the world she’d left the words wouldn’t form.

The only knowledge you can take with you is what will fit into the time you reach except for your fighting skills. You will be unable to speak of this world or of modern conveniences.

She glided toward the women. If they proved to be a threat she would attack.

“Welcome to the Two Lands,” the older of the two said. “I am the chief priestess of this temple of the goddess Bast, protector of women and children. A cat with a cream-colored coat wove a path around her legs.

Bast. She had read about the goddess, one of the minor ones in the ancient Egypt of her world. Was Bast a major player in this time and place? What other changes would she find? She swallowed a gasp. How odd that she understood the language. “My name is Tira.” She could speak it as well. She crouched and allowed the feline to sniff her hand.

The priestess smiled. “Come and join us for a meal. We will tell you why you are with us. You are one of the awaited ones. There is a task the goddess has set for you.” She turned to her companion. “Do you have the amulet that marks her as a warrior of Bast?”

 

Bio:

Janet Lane Walters is celebrating her 50th year as a published author. There are probably that many of her books floating on the internet available to be read electronically. She began with short stories and poetry and graduated to novels when an editor told her the short story she’d submitted sounded like the synopsis of a novel. She writes romance – contemporary, paranormal and fantasy. There are mysteries and fantasy for young adults under her JL Walters name.

She is married to a psychiatrist who has no desire to cure her obsession with writing. Mother of four and grandmother of seven, she lives in the scenic Hudson Valley area. She was once a nurse. She did a stint as a ghost-writer for doctors.

 

 MY PLACES

https://twitter.com/JanetL717

 https://www.facebook.com/janet.l.walters.3?v=wall&story_f

bid=113639528680724

 

 http://bookswelove.net/

 

 http://wwweclecticwriter.blogspot.com

 

 

BUY MARK

http://bookswelove.net/authors/walters-janet-lane-romance-fantasy-suspense-medical/

    

    

 

Jake by Suzy Shearer–New Book Release

Jake

The Silk Rope Masters – Book Two

by Suzy Shearer

Heat Rating : Level 4

Word Count: 64,579

Available on Evernight Publishing

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

 

They ooze power, control, natural dominance – and sex. They are The Silk Rope Masters.​

None have ever found love but watch out! When they fall, they’ll fall fast and hard!

Jake Nichols, 53, was so tall that Emily Miller, 49, had to crane her neck to look into his face. Muscular – he could pick her up in one hand and yet he held her as if she were a fragile bird.​

And that’s exactly what she was, a beautiful plus-sized woman with a pain so deep she’s buried her emotions rather than face the tragedy that happened just a few months ago.​

Jake was assigned to care for her by Master Ash, the head of Silk Rope and what Jake didn’t expect was to fall in love.

But she was only in his safekeeping until she could fly on her own then he would have to release her. 

Be Warned: BDSM, anal sex, sex toys, voyeurism, flogging, public exhibition

This is an erotic romance. There are explicit sexual descriptions and explicit language used throughout. It will offend some readers.

 

STORY EXCERPT:  

So here she was.

It was almost eight on Friday night, and Emily sat nervously in her car in the large car park. Would this be the same as either Threshold or The Lair? She hoped it was. If it was a lower classed place she definitely wouldn’t be coming back. Maybe she could find another club somewhere if that proved to be the case. Still she was hopeful. She couldn’t imagine the manager of The Lair, Bevan Fuller, transferring her to a lesser club.

Then she wondered for the hundredth time, “What the hell am I doing here?”

She still felt numb inside. With every emotion rammed down that hard, Emily couldn’t even cry. She actually knew how foolish she was, knew perfectly well the therapists, her family, were right. Time and again they’d told her she shouldn’t keep everything bottled up, should allow herself to grieve and move on, but she was far too frightened to face her pain.

Her weekly sessions with the therapist consisted of her sitting, staring into her lap or answering in monosyllables and refusing to utter one word about what had happened. In fact, she’d never cried, never shouted, never gotten very angry since that day. As soon as she’d woken in the hospital and given her statement to the police, every emotion, every thought of what had happened—her grief, every single thing, she pushed deep down inside her and refused to look at them. She held them down for so long that now she honestly couldn’t take the chance on remembering.

She was dead, and yet she breathed.

Sometimes in a lighter moment she thought of herself as a zombie. An animated corpse walking amid the living. But mainly Emily thought she was like a well-shaken bottle of soda pop with the lid screwed down tight. A slight twist of the cork and the whole bottle would vigorously explode, its contents scattering everywhere, never to be replaced. She couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk her emotions, couldn’t set them free—the pain would be too great, and Emily knew she couldn’t handle it. She honestly doubted she would survive if at any time she was forced to face her past.

In the back of her mind she knew if she’d grieve, she’d be able to move on and live again, but instead she tortured herself by bottling everything up. This was her only escape now, coming to BDSM clubs—her haven. Sometimes she felt they were all that was left of her life, so at least she could vicariously live through its patrons.

It was strange, but those BDSM clubs now felt more like home than any house possibly could. Inside those doors in front of her she knew what would happen. She knew the rules, and she knew the outcomes. She knew exactly how people would react, how they would be toward her. She could sit and watch and know people would leave her alone unless she indicated she wanted company. No one would expect anything of her, and she could hide in plain sight. It was her secure place, the only one she had, and she knew it would protect her. It really was her safe house—impenetrable, sheltered. All those years she’d spent at Threshold only reinforced the idea. A club was her sanctuary, a place where, even if only for a few hours, she could pretend she was still alive. A place where she could hide among the living.

But at the same time, she wondered, would she ever be able to return to the woman she was?

The one who laughed, who enjoyed life and lived it to the fullest? Or was she destined to remain empty, afraid of showing any sort of emotion, afraid to face her heartache? Terrified of the floodgates she was sure she could never hold back if she allowed one iota of emotion, of agony, of her grief to slip through.

Finally getting out the car, she walked up the stairs that fronted the huge Georgian mansion. Clutching her coat a little tighter, she entered the warm foyer. Behind a desk a large, burly man smiled warmly at her.

“Good evening, Miss.”

“Hello. My name is Emily, Emily Miller. I believe the owner from The Lair, back east, contacted your manager about me transferring from there to here?”

 

© Suzy Shearer 2018

  

LINKS – WHERE TO FIND SUZY:                                                         

Website :  http://www.suzyshearer.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SuzyS

Blog:  http://suzyshearer.blogspot.com.au

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/SuzyShearer

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/suzshearer

Twitter : https://twitter.com/SuzyShearer

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sooziiis

Linkedin: http://au.linkedin.com/in/suzyshearer

Publisher: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/suzy-shearer/

Publisher: http://www.bookstrand.com/suzy-shearer

 

Email her at: suzyshearer.author@gmail.com

 

A FEW LINKS WHERE TO BUY:

Amazon: https://www.amzn.com/B07FTHQB8B

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com

Angus and Robertson: https://www.angusrobertson.com.au

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/882008

 

 

BIO:

Renaissance woman, best-selling and Award winning author Suzy Shearer writes contemporary and paranormal erotic romances filled with mature and interesting characters. Her books always feature older heroes and heroines; ranging from mid 40s to 60s. The heroines are usually confident plus-sized women who are proud of their curves. Suzy feels it’s important for readers to connect.

Suzy also wants her readers to understand just because people are older doesn’t mean they aren’t intriguing, desirable, open to challenges and willing to experiment. They may be older but not always wiser. Remember sexy isn’t just for the under 30s.

A Buddhist and artist, Suzy lives in the Western Suburbs of Sydney Australia with one very spoilt dog and two equally spoilt cats keeping her company. When Suzy is not writing, she is usually painting – an accomplished watercolour Artist her subjects range from portraits and animals to nudes and landscapes. She is also a quilter, toy maker, sculptor and potter. Suzy’s Art

 

E-BOOKS OUT NOW

The Club series

The Club: Bound

The Club 2: Uncollared           

The Club 3: Waxed

The Club 4: Displayed

The Club 5: Submit

The Club 6: Unmasked

 

The Hunters series

A Hunter’s Heart – Book 1

A Hunter’s Choice – Book 2

A Hunter’s Challenge – Book 3

 

Dark Desires series

(each book is a standalone)

Whipped Delights      

Craving Her Master   

Melting Her Dom’s Heart

An Artist’s Kiss

Elephants and Ever-Afters

 

 

The Silk Rope Masters series

Steven

Jake

  Single Titles

Daemons Are Forever

Build a Love

Perfect Three

Her Dom’s Secret Past

 

MOST BOOKS ARE ALSO AVAILABLE AS PAPERBACKS

 

Now Available for Pre-Order: Ghost of a Chance by McKenna Dean

 

The second in the Redclaw Security series, Ghost of a Chance, is now available for pre-order! 

Redclaw Security is an elite paranormal agency whose agents seek out and contain alien artifacts, as well as provide security and investigate matters within the shifter community. Each Redclaw Security story can be read as a standalone, though the the stories and characters are all connected with Redclaw in some manner.

Ghost of a Chance

Blurb: At sixteen, Sarah Atwell walked away from her love of horses and a promising career as a competitive rider after discovering she’d inherited the family curse. Years later, her grandmother stunned everyone by leaving Sarah her horse farm—worth millions—but with conditions Sarah might not be able to meet.

A former Redclaw agent, Casey Barnes retired when a security assignment went bad, killing his partner and leaving him as a partial amputee. His inner wolf is in hiding. He’s been living quietly as a horse trainer, but June Atwell’s death now pits him against her granddaughter for rights to the stable.

With both of them snowed in at the farm, a series of increasingly serious accidents draws Sarah and Casey closer together, but they each harbor secrets that might tear them apart.

Available August 7th, 2018!

 

“True” by Ann Everett: Book Tour & Giveaway!

Please welcome author Ann Everett as she shares a bit about herself and her newest book, True. Be sure to check out the giveaways after the author interview!

True
A Bluebird, Texas Romance
by Ann Everett

Ann is giving away five awesome prize packages. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember you may enter every day for your chance to win one of the prize packages. You may find the tour locations here

About True:

Sometimes it takes losing everything…

True Shanahan must be the unluckiest woman in the world. Either that or she’s cursed. After another failed relationship, True leaves Dallas with a broken heart and new attitude. It’s time to walk on the wild side. But when she makes a wrong turn and ends up in Bluebird, Texas, the only man she wants is anything but reckless.

…to find all you’ve ever wanted.

Ritter Malone is the town’s favorite son and has the local hero awards to prove it. Seems he’s always in the right place at the right time. But when he crosses paths with True, his life takes a turn he never sees coming. Her songwriting skills may be questionable, but her ability to turn him inside out is indisputable.
Welcome to Bluebird, Texas.

Where a chance meeting gives two people a chance at love.

Amazon Buy Link

 
Excerpt:
When Ritter arrived at the gym, he spotted Cole jumping rope. He stopped and glanced at the wall clock. “You’re late. Roommate didn’t have you tied up, did she?”
 
“Very funny. We got a dog. Stayed up playing with him. I hit the snooze one time too many.”
 
Cole ran a towel over his face, then his lips curled. “That’s not good.”
 
“What? Getting a puppy?”
 
“Naw. The we in that sentence sounds like a contract extension.”
 
Ritter stretched. “I won’t lie. I’ve gone home to an empty house so long, thought having someone there would drive me nuts, but it hasn’t—for the most part.”
 
Cole stepped on the nearest treadmill, turned it on, and ran a steady pace. “I gotta hand it to you. You’ve managed to sleep with her and keep your hands to yourself. Or have you?”
 
Ritter climbed onto the machine next to Cole’s and matched his stride. No need to confess he hadn’t exactly resisted, but he’d not passed second base—by much. Had it not been for the phone call, he would have hit a home run. He’d had the wood for it. “No.”
“Come on. No way you haven’t hit that. Especially after what you told me about her coming on to you.”
 
“That’s why I can’t let her stay. My resistance is wearing thin.”
 
Ritter and Cole’s phones sounded a text at the same time. Ritter read his, then shot Cole a look. “Turns out, we’re off this afternoon.”
 
Cole dropped his cell back into the cupholder. “I’ve never been to New Jersey. You?”
“Nope but looks like the storm is calling us there.”

 

Hello! Welcome to my blog, Ann! Thank you for answering my nosy, I mean discerning, questions!  First, please tell us a little about yourself and the kinds of stories you like to write.

 Would you say there is an underlying theme behind your stories?

I like to write romance with some sass and sizzle. All of my stories are set in Texas…since I’m a Lone Star native that’s what I know most.

What part of the world do you call home? Can you tell us a little about where you grew up and where you live now?

I grew up in Brownsboro, Texas, a super small town about 125 miles east of Dallas. When I was growing up there, the town only had 300 people. I’ve lived in bigger cities…Austin and Lubbock, but currently I reside in Mt. Pleasant, Texas. We’re in the northeast corner of the state, near the Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana borders.

How long have you been writing? Did you write as a child or is it something you developed a passion for later in life?

I wrote some in college but was never serious about it. Then on a whim, when I was in my fifties, I decided to write a short story and enter it in a contest. Before I knew it, I had 25,000 words and decided I’d make it a book!

Of the stories you’ve written, which one do you like the most? Which one would you recommend a new reader begin with?

I think Chirp is the best book I’ve written. It’s the first time I tried writing multiple storylines within the same story. It has three romances happening. Chirp and Rance. Seth and Hanna. Tom and Helga.

What advice would you give to someone who aspires to be a published author?

Join an online writing website so strangers can critique your work. They are the ones who will offer the best advice because they don’t have to worry about hurting your feelings.

Where do you find your inspiration?

Everywhere. The inspiration for True came from my electric co-op magazine. It had a picture of a yummy looking lineman on the cover…and I thought…hey, not many stories are written with a lineman as a main character….so, Ritter Malone was born in my imagination.

Best line you ever wrote?

As an author, this is the only time I pat myself on the back. I work hard, hard, hard, to come up with the best opening line of a book. I want it to grab the attention of the reader and set the tone of the story. Here are a few examples.

From Laid Out and Candle Lit: Not only did Tizzy Donovan think her cup was always half empty, she was pretty sure someone had spit in it.

From You’re Busting my Nuptials: Twenty-four hours ago, Tizzy Donovan was naked in Ridge Cooper’s bed, screaming to get God’s attention.

From Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go: Jay Roy Hobbs held the county record for talking women out of their panties.

From Say You’ll Never Love Me: Two weeks earlier, Raynie stood in the same spot and swore off bad boys. Absolutely. For sure. Maybe.

From True: True Shanahan stopped in her tracks, cupped her ear, and listened to the throaty moans, heavy breathing, and rhythmic grunts coming from the other side of Richard’s office door. 

 
NAME THE TWINS CONTEST:
Submit your name choices via comment Ann’s blog post, http://www.anneverett.com/2018/06/15/contest-and-new-release/or to her email ann.everett @rocketmail. com. (without spaces)
 
About the Author:
Award winning author, Ann Everett embraces her small town upbringing and thinks Texans are some of the funniest people on earth. When speaking to writing groups, businesses, book clubs, and non-profit organizations, she incorporates her special brand of wit, making her programs on marketing, self-publishing, and the benefits of laughter, informative and fun.
Social Links:

Free Stories, Upcoming Releases, and More!

Because it’s a national holiday here in the US, I’ve opted to move WIP Wed to next week–so be sure to come back to participate then!

I’m considering starting a New Release Saturday as well–where people can drop in and share what they have that’s about to come out–what do you think?

In the meantime, I’m in the final edits on Ghost of a Chance, the next standalone in the Redclaw Security series.

I can’t wait to share this one with you! I see a lot of similarities between Sarah and myself: we’re both fangirls and we grew up frequently hearing how we fell short on expectations. Part of Sarah’s journey will be to recognize her self-worth, and discovering things some people see as flaws can be your biggest strengths.

As part of the run up to the next book release, first Reclaw book, The Panther’s Lost Princess is FREE until July 5th,  so grab your copy now!

Adam Mann tells us why Love is in the Air (book tour and excerpt)

Hello! Welcome to my blog, Adam, and thank you for answering my nosy, I mean discerning, questions!  First, please tell us a little about yourself and the kinds of stories you like to write. Would you say there is an underlying theme behind your stories?

  • What part of the world do you call home? Can you tell us a little about where you grew up and where you live now? 

I have lived and worked in what is called “developing economies” in Africa and Asia for over 50 years, and as a result I had to move home every two or three years as my work contract changed.  I met a lovely widow in Vietnam in 1997 which is where I live now with some of our seven adult children and most importantly grandchildren.

School and university was in England and Ireland, but I was made redundant from my job in London in 1964 and managed to land a good job in Lagos, Nigeria of all places.  I ended up spending 12 years in Nigeria until corruption got so bad I moved from the proverbial frying pan into the fire “Libya”.  Things go better in Kenya, Ethiopia, and Botswana with short inputs into Egypt and Uganda.

Don’t laugh but then I accepted a contract in the Swat valley in Pakistan, before the famous Malala was even born, but after two years moved to Sri Lanka, and then Vietnam where I live and write now.  From Vietnam I’ve gone on short term assignments to Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Cambodia.

  • How long have you been writing? Did you write as a child or is it something you developed a passion for later in life?

I probably first wrote because I had to – official reports, studies, surveys and so on – the boring stuff!

My first love was story telling rather than writing, and then I used to read the history of some of the countries in which I worked.   It was the “unknown” and the “blank spaces” in that history that prompted me to start enquiring and then writing.  With romance novels I wrote my first manuscript in the first person, but as the passion got hotter I really had to change!

My father worked in Singapore when I was a boy and in my early teens, and living there I became a Boy Scout, so story telling around the campfire was my first introduction to telling tales, and ghost stories.

I retired four years ago, and apart from gardening, have written ten crime and historical novels, and now over 30 contemporary romance novellas, which is really the subject that we are featuring today.

  • What gave you the courage to submit your first story to a publisher?

My first book was an historical novel, which I wrote in 1996 when I lived in the corner of a coconut estate in the north of Sri Lanka but which I sat on having been almost tempted by a vanity publisher in London! 

It was in 2014 that I came across Smashwords and publishing a book with them was not difficult.  Amazon I found later is actually easier.  Over the years I have managed to get four publishers to take some of my manuscripts – Blushing Books, Phaze Books, Global Publishing Group and eXtasy Books, as I had hoped that my eBook sales would improve with their backing!

  • How would you characterize your stories? As romance, erotica, or something entirely different?

I like writing romance, but I have to add in the sexy bits to make the story more complete and convincing, so as a result I include explicit sex in my novellas.   I don’t call that erotica.  I don’t use swear words or violence in my stories.  I am sorry but gooseberry bushes and storks with bundles in their beaks doesn’t work with me – besides that misses out all the romance, courting and passion!

  • What draws you to this genre? Have you written in other genres?

I’ve always been concerned that historical novels write about the rulers, but seldom about their families.  I’ve found many portraits and sketches, even frescoes, about beautiful ladies but often their names are missing – so I add in their wives and family life, which is largely from my imagination.

Writing historical romance was an immediate lead into contemporary romance, but I had to use areas of the world that I knew, as I had lived and worked there.  This also applied to the characters and heroines that I invented, so that as a result many are of Asian origin.

  • City Boy/Girl or Country Mouse—and why?

Ponies and dogs were an integral part of my life as a boy, and my work has always been with animals and farmers.  So I usually set my stories in rural areas as I know them better.  Cinemas were a complete novelty to me, and I did not see TV until 1953, which then I was a very small black and white grainy screen.  World Service Radio was much better and different.

  • Are you a punster or a plotter?  Do you outline extensively or write your story as you go along?

I usually put together the overall plot in my mind, and often I get up in the middle of the night to do that!  I usually prepare a spread sheet of the plot and the characters, and then start writing.  Frequently the characters take over and form and even change the plot as I write, and for one story I had to change a tall thin blonde into a sturdy well built lady, with mousy hair, but with an attractive dominant character.

  • Research: love it or hate it?

I really enjoy research, but it does take up a disproportional amount of time.

  • Editing: love it or hate it?

I appreciate the work and responsibility of an Editor and even their advice of story content and character description.  I’ve only had one occasion to cloud my judgment when an Editor queried a statement of fact!   I am sorry but this made my blood boil, after all I am the author, and I had clearly established the facts before I wrote.  I tend to think that her “advice” was a matter of political opinion, which was quite topical at that time.

  • How much do you think that a good blurb and good cover art figure into the success of a story?

Great covers are invaluable.  The three novels in this Box Set are the result of a friend telling me that my cover for one looked a bit “home-made”.  The artist who made the three replacements has been telling me that the covers are my brand and should present the story!

Blurb is entirely a different matter.  Without a doubt there are Key Words that should be inserted in the blurb, and I wish I knew what they are. 

LOVE IN THE AIR

Excerpt:

It was very early morning when the flight arrived in Taipei, and Charlie walked with Sue-Ling to the Arrivals Hall.

“Wait a minute,” she said and disappeared into a shop.

“Here,” she said a few minutes later, “something from Taiwan so that you remember me!” and she laughed.

He handed him a small locally made toy farmer.

As she was standing close to him he kissed her forehead, and she blushed, but made no effort to go away.

“Bathroom,” said Charlie, and Sue-ling took his bag and said, “I’ll wait for you,” which was kind of her.

She watched him walk away, and made a mental note.

Tall, she decided, probably six feet, brown wavy hair, slim build, intelligent and with a lovely smile.  She guessed he’d be late thirties.

She knew he wasn’t married as he’d told her during the flight, as she’d told him she was nearly thirty and single, but she had also said there was an old boyfriend waiting for her at home.

Charlie, for his part, thought about this charming and attractive lady he’d met on the flight.  She was quite tall compared to other Taiwanese ladies, kept her black hair shoulder length, wore thin gold ring earrings, and was still very slim. But with winter clothes covering her he could not tell anymore.  Still she did have a lovely smile with sparkling dark brown eyes.

Sue-ling was waiting for Charlie, and she gave him her bag as she in turn went to the ladies washroom.

“Wrong way round,” thought Charlie, “I should have asked her first!” And he admonished himself, and when she came back she was a bit deep in her own thoughts.  They walked on together.

“You have to go that way, but I’m going over there,” Sue-ling indicated the overhead signs, “Oh yes, here’s my mobile phone number so if you give me a ring sometime, and then I’ll have your number,” and she handed him a small card.

“Good-bye Sue-ling,” said Charlie, “thanks for your time and help on the flight.

Sue-ling smiled and on tip toe kissed Charlie on his right cheek, and she walked away.

Charlie followed the signs leading to the Departure Hall, but was still thinking about her.

He dialed her number in his mobile phone, and it rang;

“Is that the attractive lady I met on the flight from Vancouver?” he asked into the phone.

“No, sorry, I can’t see her around here,” she replied, “but I’ll give you a call if I do.”

LOVE IN THE RAIN

Nobody loves like an Irishman!

By a sheer stroke of bad luck Henry gets caught in a tropical storm whilst he’s swimming in the sea.  He sensibly gets out of the water and finds shelter in a beach house, and a few moments later is joined by an equally sodden rain drenched lady.

Felicity is cold and wet and she has nothing dry to wear so she asks Henry to hold her so that they can both benefit from their body warmth until the rain subsides.

The story is set in South East Asia, and culminates in modern day Singapore, but the note above is only the start of a very long story…

LOVE IN THE BOONDOCKS

Kim has just been divorced by an uncaring husband who was more interested in her money than herself.  She finds work as a Primary School teacher in several remote villages, where she meets Dave who is working with farmer families in some of the same villages.  She finds him attractive and “sets her cap” at him.

Fortunately she speaks English so she manages to meet Dave in several locations before meeting him one evening in his small cottage, on the pretext of getting a lift to a village.

You, the reader, will have to find out what happens next…

LOVE IN THE AIR

Two passengers find some common ground on a flight from Vancouver to Taipei.

Charlie meets Sue-ling on trans-Pacific flight to Taipei after flight delays due to bad weather, and then further delays mean a long stop-over in the transit area at the airport.

Charlie decides to stay at the Airport Hotel where he can get a shower and rest a bit, and is helped by Sue-ling who joins him as she too is delayed by the weather. 

Their in-flight conversation becomes more than friendly, as they have to wait for their flight connections, and a mix-up in the hotel bathroom exposes more than just her skin as their relationship develops.

There is now a Box Set for these three Asian Love Stories

Adam Mann has written over thirty romance stories.  In many cases the heroine comes from Asia, but this is partly because that is where he has been working in remote areas for over thirty years.  Adam admires the resolve and determination of these ladies from Asia even in challenging and problematic circumstances.

Most of his stories are partially derived from his personal experience, and also based in locations that he knows as he’s lived and worked there.

He freely admits that his imagination makes up a good proportion of each of the stories.  He’s often found that romance is not always where a hard working boy meets good looking girl and they live happily ever after.  Most of his characters are a bit more battered in their lives before they meet, so their circumstances and incentives are much more clearly defined.

Most of Adam’s stories are about twenty thousand words, so not very long, and cheap to buy at Ninety Nine cents and easy to read.

Adam Mann is the pen name for romance books written by Mike Lord.

 

https://facebook.com/author/adammannauthor.com

https://www.amazon.com/author/adammannauthor.com

http://www.adammannauthor.com

https://twitter.com/AdamMannAuthor/status/686929540254322689

https://www.smashwords.com/?ref=ButterflyBooks

 

 

Please read and enjoy this story.

 

 

 

The Language of Romance Novels: Sweet and Sensual vs Hot and Steamy?

I’m in the process of making up a bunch of promotional posts in advance for a fest I’m doing in July, and one of the prompts was “Sweet and Steamy or Hot and Heavy?”

Which got me to thinking about the kinds of things I like in my romances.

I live for the slow burn romance. I want to watch the characters get to know each other, overcome obstacles (personal or otherwise) to be together, work for the reward–which is usually a sex scene but not always. Sex can take place at any point in the story, but I tend to prefer the slow burn where the characters lead up to it over time. I also enjoy it when sex doesn’t prove to be the magic solution to their relationship issues–that it frequently complicates things before the characters get it sorted out. As both a reader and a writer, it’s part of the payoff for being invested in the relationship.

But I was a bit bothered by the terms here: sweet vs hot. Or sometimes it’s ‘clean vs spicy’. These are terms the romance industry uses to help readers determine how much sex is in their stories, and most of the time, that subtle warning system works for me. Kind of like how I know what to expect when I go see a Star Trek movie in terms of violence and sex (which is why I’m a HARD PASS on a Tarantino-directed R rated Star Trek Movie. No Just. Ugh. No.)

“Clean” to denote a romance where the sex takes place behind closed doors/off-stage makes me stabby. I resent the implication sex is somehow dirty if depicted on page. “Spicy” makes me stabby too. It’s feels like a euphemism because we’re not grown up enough to say the ‘naughty’ words. Mind you, I understand why authors feel compelled to use these terms–it’s because even if the audience doesn’t explicitly know what they mean with reference to the story, the meaning is implied well enough that they can guess.

“Sweet” is marginally better. It’s clear where the industry is going with this–a one-word term to instantly identify the heat level of a story to a reader–especially since heat levels mean different things to different people. Sweet doesn’t mean there can’t be any sex at all during the story (though sometimes that’s the case). It’s just when it does occur, it takes place off-screen. There are times when that’s exactly the kind of story I’m looking for, and it’s nice to know nice to know in advance what you’re getting. Likewise when I read a blurb for a Regency romance that states the heroine is a widow, it’s pretty much a given there will be sex between the main characters. As long as there isn’t a bunch of teasing with long, complicated reasons as to why the characters never have sex at all, I’m okay with the fade-to-black scenes. If the characters are demonstrably showing passion for one another but that passion never takes place–either on screen or implied–then I tend to get a little cranky. Unfortunately, “sweet” as a term to describe stories with no on screen sex makes me think of a vapid, usually blonde heroine who hasn’t a clue–or else a story so full of saccharine it makes my teeth ache to contemplate reading it.

But recently I’ve read some wonderful stories that could have technically described as sweet, but the lead-up to the closed door was so romantic, so passionate, so sensual that I didn’t miss the actual sex at all. And yet “sweet” is hardly the term I’d use to describe these stories. The scenes were as hot as any graphic sex scene I’ve ever read–right up to the point where the door was closed and we return the following morning.

Are there better terms out there? I wonder because my own feelings toward the sex scenes I’m writing is evolving. Paranormal romance is a genre that tends to demand a lot of sex scenes, in some cases, the more raw and “hot” the better. Being a slow burn kind of gal, I include much less sex than some readers expect. I lean more toward the sensual than “hot”. But I suspect those lines blur for many readers, as do writers, too. Sometimes sensual becomes hot and vice versa. If a story is described as “sensual”, will readers know what to expect?

Which is why writers tend to fall back on industry descriptors. But if you’re wondering, I go for sensual every time.