Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Teasers - Supporting Each Other
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Sunday, December 29, 2013
Journey completed….
The day before Christmas, I finished my last class in my Master program and I am now proud to say that I achieved what I set out to do almost two years ago. Get my Master degree. It was a wonderful Christmas present to myself and a great start to the upcoming new year. After I did the last paper, I called my big sister and we cried, laughed and celebrated my being done. Then I called Aliyah who also knew about my working toward my degree and she was there throughout giving me some swift kicks when I was being doubting. *hugs* Aliyah thanks for being there. Then I crashed.
I was so tired after almost two years of so many things I was doing. I was also a little sad. My reasons are the last time I made my educational journey my mom was by my side when I finished. She was the first call I made once I knew I was done. This time with her not here on earth anymore I was at a lost and sad that she wasn’t here to share this journey with me. But…then I realized she was here spiritually with me and was there cheering me on. She was the one who lifted me up when I doubted if I could do this, the one who helped me push the tiredness away to get what I needed to do done, and the one who is always in my corner. These thoughts made me pick myself up and have a talk with my mom. I did it mentally, out loud and every way I could think of. It made me feel better and I’m now able to share with you all.
I’M DONE! I completed my Master program and have my degree (waiting to get the actually degree in my hands but I am done with the work). I’m very excited and proud. The year is ending and starting on a high note as this one journey I started almost two year is completed. I’m already looking forward to more journeys. :)
Friday, December 27, 2013
Immortal Bloodlines – Cover Art
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Between the Covers - Veils Rising
Here is a excerpt from Veils Rising (Rarities Incorporated, Book # 3). Enjoy.
Clenching her fist, Dilana thumped the glass again. “I hate Christmas. When will it be over?”
“In ten days, on December 26 at midnight.”
Dilana stiffened at the sound of the unfamiliar male voice that rolled over her like a silken caress. Turning away from the window, Dilana locked eyes with warm whiskey amber eyes with flecks of green. Her first impression was of restrained power. The stranger had to be at least six inches taller than her own height of five-eleven, making him six-five. His face was a sensual array of panels and sharp angles. He surpassed being handsome into the devastating category. His full lips quirked with a hint of laughter while his dark brown hair was slicked away from his face. The end of a braid rested over his shoulder, curling against his chest.
With a glance down, she took in his light brown shirt and dark brown slacks that complimented his light sienna skin while fitting his body impeccably. Despite his clothing she could see he was rippling with muscles.
“However, the holiday season doesn’t officially end until January 2 at midnight.” His voice reminded her of Cajun gumbo—hot, thick and spicy.
The hint of mischief on his face was at odds with the intensity she felt coming off him in waves. A flash of desire seemed to go over his face but was quickly suppressed. When he moved forward closer to the desk with sensuous grace, she felt the raw animal magnetism surrounding him race up her arm along her skin. Stifling her gasp, Dilana continued to watch him. He came around the desk and lifted his hand. Without any conscious thought, her hand flashed up to stop him from touching her. She felt the strength of the muscle in his arm before a vision crashed over her.
The man was talking in the flowing patois of Cajun French. Not the one she had been taught in school. The dialect was different, more earthy. She was able to interpret a few words. Heritage, lost and danger were the predominant ones. She couldn’t see whom he was speaking to.
Time rushed forward.
The man smiled with an intense look of a hunter. The look of lust on his face made her quiver in desire and a little fear. He circled a woman. She saw the woman’s face was turned away, her breathing was harsh and shuddering. Glancing down, she saw the woman wore a delicate necklace she couldn’t make it out completely. It seemed to be just out of sight. Looking lower, she saw the woman was bare except for jewelry. The brilliance of the gold, white gold and precious stones shone against the woman’s rich, dark caramel skin.
A diamond and ruby lay side by side as they covered each nipple clamp while one chain of white gold offset with flecks of diamonds and another gold chain offset with flecks of rubies fell down on one side. A glance showed her the other side was the same. The chains led down to attach to various chains intersecting around the woman’s waist. The chains alternated between one row of chains made of white gold with miniature diamonds hanging from them and a row of gold chains with miniature rubies hanging down. The chains stopped just above her hips with a diamond and ruby fused together covering her mound. The woman moaned, drawing her attention.
Glancing up, she locked eyes with dark grey. She gulped, realizing she was looking at herself. A vibrating feeling hit her clit and as she looked on she and her future image shuddered and moaned simultaneously. An orgasm started to build from deep within, ripping outward. The woman bowed as she bowed.
Wrenching herself out of the vision, Dilana jerked her hand off his arm. She watched as the man stepped back. She tried to control her breathing as the feel of the golden chains against her skin slowly faded.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crowd you,” the man said stiffly. “I’ll just leave this with you.” He put down the folder he held and the card. He turned and left before she could get her wits about her to say a word.
Dilana took a deep breath cursing herself and reached for the folder. Pulling out her chair, she took a seat as she opened the folder. Her breath stalled. “Shit.”
Copyright © Taige Crenshaw, 2007.
All Rights Reserved.
Buy here
More about Between the Covers
Read all Between the Covers here
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
A Non-Carolers Memory
One of my favorite memories was the Christmas carolers who performed in Emancipation Garden. I still remember my first time I went. I was in awe of all the various team of carolers that were there. Singing and having fun. Those in the audience joined in. One year especially I remember there was a friendly bet between two groups. One called themselves The Non-Carolers. And from the name you guessed it. The non-carolers didn’t sing all that well. Yet their enthusiasm and the good-natured rivalry between the two groups entertained everyone. It was a carol sing off that had people talking for a long time. It enhanced a tradition and became one. It was a Christmas memory that I treasure to this day.
In Veils Rising I mention briefly some of the things that I remembered that made holidays in St. Thomas so special when I grew up. In addition I wanted to explore some myths and then change them to make them my own. Dilana Storm a Zuri Maji who can’t wait for Christmas to be over. All the holiday cheer is bringing back painful memories. Magni Taggart is looking for someone to help him find a lost family heirloom. When he meets Dilana he is taken off guard by the chemistry they feel. Dilana’s travels lead her to St. Thomas during Christmas. It will be a Christmas that Dilana will not forget.
Here is the blurb for my Christmas story.
Veils Rising
Genre: Paranormal
Series: Rarities Incorporated ~ Book Three
Dilana Storm only wants Christmas to be over. All the holiday cheer is bringing back painful memories. Even the raunchy revelry of the annual party at Rarities Inc. cannot jump-start her holiday spirit. An unexpected visitor sets her on a wild ride that even she, a Zuri Maji, never expected.
Magni Taggart is used to following his instincts. They lead him to Rarities Inc. to search for his lost family heirloom. He never expected to meet an unusual woman who wakens all his primitive senses. For a man who trusts his instincts there is only one thing to do.
Read an Blurb and Excerpt of Veils Rising
Buy Veils Rising
Even though I now live in New York I still observe the traditions of baking for the holidays and giving it to family and friends. I hope you enjoyed my non-carolers memory.
What are some of your holiday memories?
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Teasers - Christmas State of Mind
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Monday, December 23, 2013
Contracted: Immortal Bloodlines (Phoenix Intelligence Agency, Book #4)
Here is the blurb:
Immortal Bloodlines
By: Taige Crenshaw
Totally Bound
Coming March 2014
Series: Phoenix Intelligence Agency, Book # 3
Genre: Paranormal
Length: Novella
Format: E-Book
A stubborn woman is hard to capture but once you do what do you do with her?
Storm Davis does not like being told what to do. Her new partner in the Phoenix Intelligence Agency seems to think he has the right. She can’t seem to shake him like she has her previous partners. He is infuriating her with his calm unaffected boredom. When his calm shatters, it is with unexpected results and Storm isn’t one to shy away from anything.
Killian Erutan is still working through being brought back from the dead and now a firebird. He is still an Amazonian Warrior and now being a firebird he has more to handle. Add to that the aggravating partner he’s saddled with and Killian has his hands full. Storm is in his opinion flaky, a pain in the ass and used to having her own way. He will not stand for it. The warrior is him cannot trust such a person at his back. Yet she gets under his skin and one sizzling kiss later, he finds he aches for her and has no idea why.
When they stumble upon the man, they are seeking who can bring the danger that will collapse the world, Storm surprises him with her actions. The danger of what they are facing and their rising passion makes these two come together. Sometimes in life, you find the one who makes your immortal bloodlines…come alive.
~~~~
Yay! Very excited about my upcoming release. I'm working on other books in all my series and hope to have more news soon. :)
Hope you all are having a great Monday!
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Between the Covers - Power of Attraction
Here is a excerpt from Power of Attraction (Blackstone Haven, Book # 1). Enjoy.
He came at her with gracefulness and purpose in each step. His sun-kissed face was carved planes and angles put together by a master artisan. It enthralled and compelled. The fullness of his mouth made her mouth ache to take a nibble, then suck his lips gently into hers. As he got closer, Peyton was arrested by his ice blue gaze, which was surrounded by curling lashes. A shudder of longing raced through her. Peyton licked her lips. His eyes followed the movement. A decadent smile curved his lips.
He reached her and pulled her against his heated body. A moan spilled from her lips. A sensual laugh rumbled from him. His arms banded around her. Peyton looked up at his face. The hunger in his gaze made the breath in her lungs stall. He lowered his head. His lips covered hers as if she were his. She melted into his body and let him take her. He nipped her lips gently. At her gasp, he took advantage and delved his tongue inside of her mouth. With a firm stroke, he licked along the side of her tongue then hummed. Her nipples pebbled, while wetness drenched her aching slit.
A weakness filled her, making her knees buckle. His arms held her up for his taking. With another flick of his tongue, he licked along the roof of her mouth. Fire raced along its path, then down her throat and straight to her clit. Wild moans bubbled from her. He swallowed them as he continued to master her with his kiss. Peyton tried to think clearly, but only thoughts of wanton need filled her. His hands lifted her. Instinctively, Peyton wrapped her legs around his waist. A whimper broke through her moans at the sensation of his hardened shaft pressing against her skirt-clad mound. Distantly, she felt his hands scorching a path along her right leg, and in its wake, cool air touched her skin.
She locked her legs tighter around him, grinding against his cock, trying to get some relief for the ache she needed filled. He shifted. Peyton moaned as his heated shaft rubbed along her silk-clad pussy. With a glide of her hips, she rubbed against him. He growled deep in his throat and bit her. Peyton gasped and reality intruded.
She stiffened in shock and tried to get away. The man trapped her arms and increased the pressure of his kiss. Her mind went fuzzy with desire. His tongue plunged in and out of her mouth, mimicking thrusts. Her pussy flooded even more. The man chuckled in her mouth. It made her slit clench in reaction. At that, Peyton came to her senses. She wrenched her lips away from his. Wide eyed, she looked at the man who held her effortlessly against him. His ice blue gaze was hungry and slumberous. He lowered his head.
“Yioules,” Peyton whispered huskily.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Blogging at Hitting the Hot Spot
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Teasers - Belief
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Monday, December 16, 2013
Ink Motions with Shiloh Saddler
Interview with Shiloh Saddler:
When or what made you decide to become an author?
I’m an avid romance reader and I finally bit the bullet and decided to write down some of the sexy ideas in my head. I was shocked to find out people enjoyed reading them.
How do you get an idea for your novel?
I have a history degree and grew up watching westerns. I got the idea envisioning what Gunsmoke would have been like with a female marshal.
What is the inspiration you use?
Do you mean what inspires me? Usually something I read or something I watch on TV. I often want to change the ending or put a spin on things. After all there is no such thing as a new idea.
What is your writing style? Do you just sit down and write or do you create character sketches, outlines, or notes?
I work with a general outline of the beginning, middle, and end. I have notes with each character’s goals and motivations and the character arcs, plot arc, and romance arc for my story.
Who is the "Writing Muse" in your life? I.E. who gets your juices flowing when you are blocked?
When I’m blocked I go for a walk or a hike. So I’d say my dog gets my juices flowing again.
Walk me though the way you create a novel from conception to completion.
That’s a difficult question! After coming up with an idea I let it ruminate for a day or two. If the idea has grown and I’m still excited about it I know I need to write it down. I make basic character sketches, outlines, and start writing. After the first draft I refine my character sketches, outline, and plot/romance arcs. Using the new insight I have gained I edit and refine the story. Coupled with comments and edits from critique partners I make as many passes as necessary to get a story ready to submit to publishers.
What is the type of voice you use and why?
I write with a serious voice because I’m a rather serious person. My stories also tend to have a slightly dark tone, because I don’t want to write my characters through rose colored glasses. Life isn’t always pretty, but working through that makes the happy ending all the more rewarding.
How many novels have you written including all work in progresses you are currently working on?
Oh boy. I have a lot of WIPs. I always work on multiple projects at once. I’d say ten.
Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about their writing that captures your soul?
I don’t really have a writing idol. I read anything and everything and have not picked a favorite author. I admire Nora Roberts for being able to make a name for herself in two different genres and for constantly publishing books. I’d love to someday be as prolific as her.
What is your favorite plot line type?
Anything that has to do with forbidden love.
What is your current work in progress and how did get the idea for the Work in Progress?
My current work in progress is a F/F fantasy romance set in a Medieval like world with dragons. I got the idea as an offshoot of a previous idea I had couple with watching episodes of Game of Thrones.
Describe the major conflict between the hero and heroine in your novel?
Laura doesn’t think it is proper for a woman to love another woman and resists her urges. Joe has to convince Laura her urges are okay and she shares the same fantasy even though she doesn’t know how her marshal father will take the news she wants to settle down with another woman.
Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write?
Take as many writing classes as you can, read books on craft, and just write. It often takes many novels which will never see the light of day before you write something a publisher will want to buy.
Where are the bodies buried? IE Is there any old work in progresses you threw aside and decided not to complete and why?
I have several pure erotic ideas I will never finish. I was writing out a fantasy and they are too intimate and twisted to share.
What is a good villain?
A good villain is a well-rounded character who readers can sympathize and hate at the same time. A good villain is equal to the hero and will pose a good challenge to the goals he/she wishes to achieve.
Blurb:
After a vicious outlaw murders her father, Laura Rutherford sees no future beyond running the family brothel and kowtowing to the local gang. Not even marriage offers escape. No man can compete with the beautiful women who dance the cancan for her each night...at least not until a gentle stranger sweeps in and opens her eyes to desires too long denied.
Joe Bascum stumbles into Bitterroot Flats looking for a place to hide from a gunman out for blood. When the innocent madam from the local brothel offers a bed and bath, Joe accepts hoping to show the buttoned-up beauty just how right forbidden desire can feel.
When danger escalates, can Laura help Joe defeat the famous Fletcher gang, or is she destined to live a lonely life as the virgin madam?
An excerpt
Time for the can-can show. My heart palpitated in anticipation. Shamelessly I watched the four women file on stage in their long matching red skirts and black stockings. A red feather in their hair.
Mr. Woodson finished the intro music. I gave him a small smile and nod before returning my attention to the women. I let out a quiet sigh. They were all beauties. When I was younger I cried myself to sleep wishing I had their figure; now full grown, I had given up on that dream. I wasn’t tall and leggy like Lulu. I wasn’t as curvy as Rose. I didn’t have Amanda’s fiery red hair or Delilah’s flawless complexion. I was just average.
The black silk chokers around their necks helped draw attention to their faces and lower to their breasts. The ladies grabbed their skirts and walked to the edge of the stage, swishing their skirts suggestively and showing off their white bloomers. Many men let out cheers or said lewd comments. Ash rushed in and grabbed a seat. He leaned back in his chair put two fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Like me, he caught as many performances as he could. The bastard had become a regular fixture in Bitterroot Flats, easily partaking in the entitlements. Including murder. He must have had a past with Fletcher. Done jobs together, maybe even served time together.
I had to put up with him. But I didn’t have to pretend to like him. I seared his back with a fiery stare, hoping he could feel my anger.
I wish I never had to see Ash again. I wish I had the power to ban him from the Honey Ranch. The power to keep him from Amanda would be some satisfaction, but the Fletcher Gang owned the town. Ash could do whatever he damn pleased and I was powerless to stop him.
Ash wasn’t going to spoil the show for me. I focused on the women, their every seductive move. The dancers turned around in place before prancing around the stage in a small circle, flashing the gentlemen big smiles. Their faces, heavily painted with rouge and lip paint, glowed under the stage’s lighting. A thrill zipped through me when they formed a line again and started their high kicks. Some of the men clapped, keeping time with the music. Others tapped their empty beer glasses on the tables. The rowdy atmosphere didn’t bother me anymore. The scent of beer and whiskey wafted through the air, mixing with the smell of sweat, horses, and the honeysuckle perfume the ladies wore. I easily tuned out the men, my attention narrowing to the women working the stage as if their lives depended on it. How they managed to dance so well in those high-heeled black boots I’d never know. They helped show off their legs, though. And I could drool over all those legs. Heat and desire burning in my belly, I hoped no one could read my dirty thoughts.
Buy link Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Virgin-Madam-Girls-Guns-ebook/dp/B00GDS6ISG/
Author Bio:
Shiloh Saddler likes to do research for her steamy romances first hand. She has invented a time machine and travels back to the 19th century on a regular basis. There are experimental settings on her time machine which could propel her into the future and even other worlds. She believes love and a good book makes anything possible.
Social Media Links:
Website: http://shilohsaddler.blogspot.com/
Email: ShilohSaddler@gmail.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/shiloh.saddler?fref=ts
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ShilohSaddler
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Between the Covers – Power of Instinct
Here is a excerpt from Power of Instinct (Blackstone Haven, Book # 2). Enjoy.
“Ian!” she screamed.
“No need to shout. I’m in here.” Ian’s voice came from her living room.
“What is Einstein doing with McGee and Reid? Heck, what is your whole animal farm doing with them? You—” Sinai stepped into the living room, then stopped.
She walked over and examined the big screen TV that took up the whole wall between her two bay windows. There was a lot of space between them, meaning that was a whole lot of TV. She had heard tales of Ian’s TV from her various family members and friends who went to his house to watch games or a movie. Sinai took a breath, trying to be calm.
“What’s going on?” she asked slowly as she turned to Ian.
He was leaning back on her couch, his arms behind his head and his crossed legs extended before him. Her gaze dropped, taking in how his jeans cupped his cock and encased his legs. Heat flooded her. She shifted.
“Since I’m moving in until after your birthday, I’ll need my things.”
Sinai blinked, sure she had heard him wrong. She shook her head. Ian nodded, a smug smile on his face.
“Hell, no!” Sinai roared.
She smacked away the soap. Ian’s hand flashed up, and he caught it. He stood in a lazy motion then walked in a loose-legged gait. Sinai’s heart started to race. She felt as if she was being stalked. She stood her ground as Ian walked right up to her.
He leant down and said softly, “Don’t test me, Nai.”
“You’re not moving in here. It’s not necessary,” she insisted.
Ian’s eyes dilated, then he said in a low tone, “Are you challenging me?”
Sinai raised her head. “On this I am.”
Copyright © Taige Crenshaw, 2011.
All Rights Reserved.
Buy here
More about Between the Covers
Read all Between the Covers here
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Teasers - Looking Forward
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Monday, December 09, 2013
Ink Motions with Haley Whitehall
Writing Interracial Romance with Haley Whitehall
Interracial romance is a budding genre. Despite having a hero and heroine from different races, the story elements are the same as in any romance. The reason I believe interracial romance is still young is because sadly it has taken so long to become acceptable. Interracial marriages didn’t become legal until 1967 and sadly enough the last state that held on till 2000 was Alabama.
I write historical romance which means when I have an interracial couple it throws another monkey wrench in the works. I’m not saying there wouldn’t be difficulties in a contemporary interracial romance, but in a historical it is even scandalous. I write historicals set during the Civil War era. Race was a hot button issue then—just think about the roots of the war. Setting my interracial couple during this time really ups the tension and I have to walk a tightrope between being historical accurate and respectful.
Why do I write interracial romance? Midnight Caller is an interracial romance between an African American man and a white woman. Living Half Free is a historical with an interracial romance element between an African American man and a Cherokee woman. In both of those stories I didn’t sit down planning to write an interracial romance. I start my stories by building my characters first. If my heroine’s perfect match happens to be a man of another race, so be it.
I’m excited to see that interracial romance is growing in popularity. I hope it continues.
Life without love is painful, but in 1865 forbidden fruit can be deadly. When a wealthy widow decides to enjoy her new-found freedom, she puts more than her reputation on the line. An unwanted suitor means to have her, or no one will. From sizzling sex to life-threatening danger, the intrigue will keep you turning the pages of Midnight Caller, Haley Whitehall’s sizzling new romance.
When Emma Bennett’s husband dies in a carriage accident in 1865, she is released from her loveless, controlling marriage. Now she has a chance to find happiness and raise a family. But before she begins courting again she wants to experience her freedom. At the advice of the leading socialite in town, she takes a black lover to fulfill her sexual needs. His raw, masculine power awakens feelings she didn’t know existed. After the first touch she craves more.
Frederick works as a roustabout by day and moonlights as a prostitute. He knows better than to fall in love with his white client, but Emma enchants him the first time he calls on her. To keep them both safe, he works hard to put up barriers. Unfortunately, he can’t protect Emma from the slimy Mr. Hawthorne, who wants her as his bride. Frederick vows to keep her safe even if his forbidden love costs him his life.
Author Bio:
Haley Whitehall lives in Washington State where she enjoys all four seasons and the surrounding wildlife. She writes historicals set in the 19th century U.S. When she is not researching or writing, she plays with her cats, watches the Western and History Channels, and goes antiquing. She is hoping to build a time machine so she can go in search of her prince charming. A good book, a cup of coffee, and a view of the mountains make her happy.
Social Media Links:
Haley loves to connect with readers. You can find her here:
Website: http://haleywhitehall.com/
Twitter: http://twitter.com/HaleyWhitehall
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LightonHistory
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5752677.Haley_Whitehall
Blog: http://haleywhitehall.com/blog/
Saturday, December 07, 2013
Thursday, December 05, 2013
Between the Covers - Power of Attraction
Here is a excerpt from Power of Attraction (Blackstone Haven, Book # 1). Enjoy.
Wesley was amused by the look of fury mixed with distress on Ian’s normally affable face. He turned, interested in seeing the person who caused such a reaction. Shocked emerald green eyes stared at him. His heart skipped a beat.
Wesley hungrily took in the woman from the forest. She was real. He wasn’t losing his mind. Unconsciously, he took a step towards her. She backed up a step.
Fury filled him. She had run from him once, and she wasn’t doing it again. With a determined stride, he closed the space between them and grabbed her arm. She tried to shrug him off. He changed his grip and yanked her against his body. A shudder racked him as their bodies touched. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla he had thought he imagined cloyed around them. He felt her shiver in reaction. Her eyes heated then went cool.
A click sounded behind him. Absently, he looked away from her compelling gaze. He stilled at the sight of the gun trained on him. The wrath in the other woman’s amber gaze let him know she was waiting for an excuse to blow him away. Her features, so much like those of the woman he held, told him they were somehow related.
The woman in his arms moved against him. The feel of her soft breasts against his chest drove all sane thought from his mind. He turned and jerked her up into his arms.
“Wrap your legs around me,” Wesley growled.
The woman’s eyes narrowed, but she clamped her legs around his waist.
“Don’t order me around.” Her husky voice stroked along his senses.
He put his face close to hers. “Don’t give me reason to.”
She jerked back. He clamped his hands on her ass to hold her against him. She stilled. Wesley gritted his teeth at the feel of her jean-clad mound against him. His mind flashed to the forest and their kiss. He saw the answering flare in her green gaze.
Copyright © Taige Crenshaw, 2011.
All Rights Reserved.
Buy here
More about Between the Covers
Read all Between the Covers here
Wednesday, December 04, 2013
Ink Motions with Draven St James
When or what made you decide to become an author?
Ever since I was a child I found myself creating stories using all that was happening around me. As soon as I learned to write it was only a matter of time before those ideas found their way to paper. Granted, there were ups and downs when I was writing more or less based on what life was throwing at me at the time. I decided to seriously become a writer and submit my books when my friends looked at me and said, "You need to share your stories". It was the kick I needed.
How do you get an idea for your novel?
Generally my novel ideas come from a simple moment or a glance. Scent of a Wolf came about because I saw a documentary on wolves. Grey's Hidden Fire was born out of watching a Christmas parade of lights the fire station puts on every year. Or I may see a person in a store or while people watching and build a life around that brief glimmer of curiousity.
What is the inspiration you use?
I'm inspired by the unknown. I love to mold the lives of characters because it allows me to broaden my own horizons and perceptions of the world. I'm inspired by the every day and how to infuse it with intrigue.
What is your writing style? Do you just sit down and write or do you create character sketches, outlines, or notes?
I generally have the basic outline of a character in mind and sometimes even a synopsis written out before I start to write. Oftentimes though, the book evolves drastically through the writing process and ultimately looks nothing like what I may have envisioned. However, there are times when I have a whole story in mind and it just flows.
Who is the "Writing Muse" in your life? I.E. who gets your juices flowing when you are blocked?
When I suffer from a little writer's block I tend to switch to another project. I always have a couple of books in various stages of completion and when one muse clams up I just go and tap on the shoulder of another.
Walk me though the way you create a novel from conception to completion.
I don't have a set way that I work to create a novel. I kind of just let the ideas flow. Sometimes they are structured and other times I'll just sit and write for hours with no specific end point. I do have the central characters defined with background stories and personality traits. At times I at least know the main conflict that will occur.
What is the type of voice you use and why?
I don't stick to a specific "voice". All elements of writing ebb and flow based on characters, theme, the song on the radio…
How many novels have you written including all work in progresses you are currently working on?
Including works in progress, I've written ten books. I always have more ideas in my head so when one book researches completion, another flows in to fill its place.
Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about their writing that captures your soul?
Seriously, as an author to ask me who my writing idol is presents an impossible question. I admire and feel amazed by writers in general. By the passion it takes to put forth a piece of writing for others to see. The very vulnerability of that simple gesture is inspiring and captivating.
What is your current work in progress and how did you get the idea for the Work in progress?
I'm currently in the process of promoting my book Scent of a Wolf.
Here's a little blurb:
Jace Shaw is one of the few survivors of a rare wolf pack. He spends his days on the run and his nights in another world with a man he's only ever dreamed about. To sleep is to feel his dream man's hands on his body and hear wicked whispered words. But when the sun rises reality crashes in. The evil that destroyed his birth pack hunts his kind down in search of a way to control their power. To take the light.
Merek Wahya is an alpha dealing with the issues of being newly appointed, but those all falls away when he closes his eyes at night. A man with moonlit hair and mercury eyes crawls into bed with him. When he wakes it's to a painful arousal no one can satisfy. He soon learns their nocturnal meetings were foreplay for a passionate face-to-face encounter.
When Merek's wolf catches Jace's scent he knows he's found his mate The joy of this discovery is shadowed by the trouble that follows Jace. His mate is embroiled in a battle between two ancient packs. A war Merek must now fight and if he fails he could lose his mate forever.
Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write?
Don't be afraid to share your work. Readers are always looking for a new fantasy to get lost in.
Where are the bodies buried? IE Is there any old work in progresses you threw aside and decided not to complete and why?
I did shelve one piece of work. It centered around my job at the time in the field of psychology. However, I've dusted it off and am reworking it to be a standalone.
What is a good villain?
A good villain is someone who has a piece of humanity. It is really easy to make someone one hundred percent pure evil, but it lacks depth. There needs to be a catalyst to the evil and that means emotional pain…which means at one point in time the villain was vulnerable enough to feel hurt.
Are there any last comments you may want to include?
Thank you for the interview and for showcasing my book. I appreciate it so much!
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An excerpt
Excerpt from Scent of a Wolf
Release date: November 12th
“Mate!”
Jace’s scent hit Merek like a pile of bricks. The familiar scent called out to him. He took a deep breath, and there it was—Jace’s sweet and earthy smell. His mate. Here in the real world. There was no doubt about it. Merek’s wolf perked its ears up and stood waiting to change beneath the shifting sands of his skin.
He’s here.
With that thought panic slammed into him. His heart pounded a savage beat as the urge to get to his mate swept through him. He rose. His form changed even as he prowled forward, away from the meeting hall and in the direction of Emma’s cottage.
“Merek?” Sean asked, apparently confused by his sudden movement. “Wha—”
“My mate.” Merek growled and quickly shifted into the form of a midnight-black wolf.
He advanced through the underbrush, Sean following close behind in wolf form, scarcely a consideration. The only thing that remained of their human forms was a pile of ruined clothes.
The pull to get to his mate made the distance seem never ending, although it only took about five minutes to reach the clearing just beyond the tree line from Emma’s house. Two dead half-shifted weres lay in the center. A third were—a large, mangy gray—slammed the body of a man against the base of a tree. Merek felt the pain of that impact as if it were his body.
He snarled a sound full of fury and looked over at Sean. Their gazes briefly locked. Sean’s were alight with the strength to battle.
Merek and Sean burst into the clearing. The action was enough of a distraction to cause the gray wolf to turn before he could deal a killing blow to Merek’s unconscious mate.
Sean leaped at the gray as Merek advanced toward his mate, who was slumped on the ground. Jace’s body was sleek and elongated in a partial transformation. Before Merek’s eyes, the exposed claws on his mate’s feet and hands drew in. The long, toned muscles of his body retracted into his human form. His figure was pale in the moonlight, but streaks of blood marred its perfection. The slender lines of his body denoted strength and stealth. Merek knew those skills alone were what had kept Jace alive. His mate was naked save for the silver hair that flowed around his shoulders and concealed his face beneath its weight.
Merek howled into the night. He crouched closer and nuzzled the pale silver hair from Jace’s face—the soft lips, the bottom fuller than the top, square jawline with the dimple on his chin, and his aquiline nose. Altogether, they made up the man in Merek’s dreams. His mate. A mate who was bleeding from gouges on his chest and stomach. He had bruises already forming around his neck, but what worried Merek most was the blood that was changing his beautiful silver locks to a bright red.
In mere seconds Merek shifted back to human form. Naked, he knelt over his mate. With trembling hands he checked Jace’s pulse. It rebounded faintly against his fingertips. Breathing deeply to keep the pain at bay, he managed to lift the heavy weight of his mate’s body and bolted as fast as he could to Emma’s house.
It wasn’t exactly how he wanted to be naked for the first time with his mate. He would have preferred much different circumstances. Non-life-threatening circumstances. Before he reached for the doorknob, the door flew open to reveal a panic-stricken Emma.
She stepped aside, and he stalked through the door. He laid his mate on the couch in the living room and stared down at him with something akin to wonder.
“Tell me you can fix him.” His voice was a hoarse rasp as if he’d been screaming. He wanted to let loose a pained howl. He wanted the world to know how unfair it was he hadn’t been able to protect his mate. He didn’t want to feel the fear and helplessness that covered him now.
Not even standing in Emma’s domain, filled with light and decorated in shades of emerald and amber, could he find comfort. All he wanted was for his mate to wake up so he could see Jace’s silver eyes sparkling with life.
Emma knelt next to Jace and threaded her fingers through the silver fall of his hair. She closed her eyes and hummed softly. Merek was shocked when the soft locks wound around Emma’s hand. Merek had thought the magical hair was a trick of his imagination played out in his dreams. Then again, he’d thought Jace was a dream, but here he was, in the flesh.
Emma’s eyes opened, tears cresting in them.
“Oh, Jace, sweet child, what have you gone and done now?”
Buy Links for Scent of a Wolf
Loose Id
Amazon
Bio:
Draven St. James is a born and raised Oregonian. She has travelled extensively in search of mischief and mayhem to fill her books. Her ventures have been quite successful in inspiring a wealth of stories. Of course at the end of the day, coffee within reach, laptop at the ready is where she finds her peace.
Links
Facebook: www.facebook.com/draven.stjames
Blog: www.dravenstjames.wordpress.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/DravenStJames
Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/dravenstjames
Email: Dravenstjames@gmail.com
Tuesday, December 03, 2013
Teasers - Positive Thinking
More about what are Teasers
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