Monday, February 24, 2014

Ink Motions with Cynthia Sax

tcinkmotions-sm3

 

 

How do you get an idea for your novel?

 

Henley, the hero of Flashes Of Me, appears in The Seen Trilogy (He Watches Me, He Touches Me, He Claims Me). He’s big and scarred and he watches the people around him closely, safeguarding them from harm. I knew I wanted to give him a heroine to protect, but not merely physically. Henley is a huge guy, a massive man. Protecting someone physically would be too easy for him. I had to go deeper, find him someone he could protect emotionally. Kat is this heroine.

 

What is your writing style?  Do you just sit down and write or do you create character sketches, outlines, or notes?

 

I’m a pantser, meaning I write by the seat of my pants, with no plot. I usually know my characters very well before I sit down at the blank screen. We’ve hung out for a while, kicked back with some lemonade and Nutella, and talked. I know their fears, their hidden desires, their deepest darkest secrets.

 

Who is the "Writing Muse" in your life? I.E. who gets your juices flowing when you are blocked?

 

Cynthia Sax runs on Nutella. Give me a spoon of that hazelnut chocolate goodness and I’m wired for hours. When I’m blocked, I usually talk about my characters and scenes with other writing buddies (J.K. Coi, Amy Ruttan, Wylie Kinson and Christine d’Abo have talked me off the ledge too many times to count). Often the word constipation is because I’m trying to make decisions for my characters, instead of allowing them to make the right decisions for themselves.

 

How many novels have you written including all work in progresses you are currently working on?

 

I’ve written a zillion stories. I’ve had 68 stories published. I have 2 more stories in submission and I’m currently working on Sinful Rewards, a 12 novella serial for Avon. The first story in this serial will release in July and I’m super stoked.

 

Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about there writing that captures your soul?

 

Loretta Chase’s Lord of Scoundrels is my benchmark book. Whenever I think one of my stories is tight enough, I reread a scene from Lord of Scoundrels and I know it isn’t. Every line in that book means something. Often the line has multiple meanings.

 

What is you favorite plot line type?

 

(grins) Beauty and the Beast is, hands down, my favorite plot line type. Flashes Of Me is a modern twist on Beauty and the Beast. Henley, the beast, is big and scarred, frightening to many of his coworkers. Kat, the beauty, is more frightened of Henley learning her secret than she is scared of Henley, the man. She sees the caring behind his scarred exterior.

 

Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write?

 

Be fearless. The great romances break the established rules. Of course, we should know the rules before we break them, but we shouldn’t hesitate to write something different, something groundbreaking. Write balls to the wall, all out.

 

Flashes Of Me may look like a regular Beauty and the Beast story but there’s a twist. I attempt something in this story that I’ve never seen done before. It was scary. I didn’t know if my editor would like it (she did – she loved it) and I don’t know if readers will like it. But I know they won’t be bored while reading it. (grins)

 

What is a good villain?

 

There actually isn’t a villain in Flashes Of Me but I do believe in the saying “A villain is a hero of his own story.” A great villain isn’t crazy. A great villain is doing the wrong thing for the hero or heroine but the right thing for himself. He truly believes he’s right and maybe he is.

 

Many of my villains turn into heroes. I love seeing the flipside of the conflict, showing that any one of us could be a hero OR a villain.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Flashes of Me


 

Blurb:
Henley, the head of cyber security at Blaine Technologies, is a man no one crosses. He watches employees constantly using his network of cameras and enforces his rules by any means possible. Rumors of his violent past, his scarred hands and huge size have resulted in him being feared by everyone… almost everyone.

Katalina, the new intern, worries about the revelation of her most painful secret much more than she fears her sexy boss’s wrath. She sees the loneliness in his dark eyes, feels the gentleness in his marred fingers, tastes the need in his kisses, and she knows he watches her. His silly rules about not stripping for the cameras and no sex at the office are destined to be broken.

Kat likes to be watched. Henley can’t look away. Will this beauty be able to tame her beastly boss?

 


Excerpt:


 

No one in this coffee shop knows who I am. I stand in the line, waiting to place my order. They don’t know about my past. They don’t know my last name. I tap my lavender heels against the floor, drumming an up-tempo tune into the tan-colored tile. They won’t remind me why I shouldn’t be happy.

I need to be happy. I need to laugh, to have fun, to focus on this fresh start. If I don’t, I’ll cry, and I promised my father I wouldn’t cry. I plaster a silly smile across my face and I tap my heels harder against the floor. These two actions lighten my mood, allowing me to cope with my emotions.

The bleary-eyed woman swaying in front of me yawns, adding vocals to my beat. For LA locals, it’s six in the morning. For a recently displaced New York native such as myself, it feels like nine o’clock. I’m eager to start my new job and my new life on the West Coast.

I’m two hours early. The internship orientation session at Blaine Technologies is scheduled for eight o’clock sharp, not one minute before and not one minute after. Although caffeine is the last thing I need, standing in line at this coffee shop gives me something to do and someone to watch.

I slide my gaze to the fascinating someone waiting at the front counter. The biggest man I’ve ever seen in my entire life looms over the cash register, his feet braced apart as though he’s preparing for battle. His ebony hair is cropped close to his head, hiding nothing, and he’s dressed completely in black like a villain from a 1970s spy movie.

I survey my behemoth’s broad shoulders. It’s all him under his jacket, not a hint of padding disturbing the cut. His suit is bespoke, custom made especially for his big body, and I suspect the designer was English. My mystery man is wearing Barker Blacks, his leather shoes as large as the rest of him. Even his matching dress shirt is well made, the collar and cuffs stiff and crisp.

He glances over his right shoulder, meets my gaze, and I inhale sharply. His eyes are as dark as his ensemble, his nose flattened and his chin square. Everything about him screams power, strength, vitality, and the woman in me responds, my nipples tightening, my breasts pressing against the blazer of my favorite lavender suit.

My behemoth returns his gaze to the frazzled barista and I exhale, my head spinning. It has been years since I’ve allowed myself to notice a man, to think about what I want, what I need. My fingers tremble as I smooth my flared skirt. I want this stranger desperately, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life.

This is a problem, as I have no idea how to snag his attention. My last date took place when I was seventeen, and I suspect flashing my breasts at a pep rally won’t land me this sophisticated man. I chew on the inside of my cheek, having no other clever ideas.

I ponder my next steps, and my stranger moves away from the front counter, clasping a cup of coffee with his thick fingers. He ordered plain black coffee, no cream, no sugar, no whipped cream, and hell no to the chocolate sprinkles. My father likes his coffee the same way.

My mystery man stops at the lid and stir stick island and a stout man wearing mismatched jacket and pants rushes to the counter, barking his order at the disheveled barista. The rest of us shuffle forward in line. The tall skinny brunette behind me pleads into her sparkly pink phone, begging her boyfriend to give her one more chance. She’ll be the girl he needs, she promises. She’ll lose those last five pounds.

I don’t know where she’ll lose those five pounds. She’s already as thin as a yard of fine silk ribbon. I look down at my more ample bosom, my breasts wrapped snugly in the blazer.

“No, please.” The brunette sobs. “Derek! Derek!” She glances at her phone’s small screen and her face crumples. My heart aches for her. She doesn’t know how to hide her sorrow, not like I do. I can help her with this.

I touch the girl’s bare arm, diverting her attention away from her phone. “Who did your pedicure?” I feign an interest in her perfect pink toes. Although her beige sandals are adorably strappy, my goal is to distract her from her grief. “I have to know,” I insist.

The brunette wipes away her tears with the back of her hand. “I—I—I—”

I glance around us fervently as though I’m afraid someone will overhear us. The behemoth is watching me, his dark eyes glinting with intelligence. Some people think big men are dumb. Some people also think blond women are stupid and no one should wear pink at a funeral. I learned long ago to ignore some people.

“Look at what happened to me on the flight here.” I slip my right foot out of my lavender pumps and wiggle my big toe. A huge chip of coral polish has flaked off, revealing raw nail. “I rushed for a flight, banged into a baggage cart, and that was it. My pedicure was ruined.”

The brunette’s red-rimmed eyes widen. “That’s terrible.”

“It’s a disaster.” I ignore the behemoth’s shaking shoulders. He doesn’t understand. My mystery man has the strength to deal with loss directly. He doesn’t need to pretend, to use trivial distractions as a means to cope. He would never travel across an entire country seeking to escape his sadness.

“I’m in a strange city,” I explain. “I have so many cute sandals and I can’t wear them.” I shove my foot back into my shoe, hiding the offending toe.

As we exchange information and bad salon stories, the behemoth leaves. I watch his broad shoulders disappear into the LA sunshine and feel as though I’ve lost a piece of my soul, a part of my future.

***


Flashes Of Me
Buy Link:  http://www.amazon.com/Flashes-Me-An-Erotic-Novella-ebook/dp/B00F2I2GXO

 

***


Author Bio:


Cynthia Sax lives in a world where demons aren’t all bad, angels aren’t all good, and magic happens every single day. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you”, they will do anything for the women they love. They live passionately. They fight fiercely. They love the same women forever.

Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research, while they travel the world together, meeting fascinating people and finding inspiration in exotic places such as Istanbul, Bali, and Chicago.

 

Author Website: http://cynthiasax.com/

Blog: http://tasteofcyn.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cynthia.sax

Twitter: @CynthiaSax

Sunday, February 23, 2014

More than Temptation – Cover Art

morethantemptation_800Cover art for More than Temptation (Singleton, Book #3). Love getting cover art. More than Temptation (Singleton, Book #3) will be released will be released on May 9, 2014 at Totally Bound. It will be up for pre-order in March 28, 2014.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Contracted: More than Temptation (Singleton, Book #3)

More than Temptation (Singleton, Book #3) has been contracted by Totally Bound and will be released in May 9, 2014. It goes up for pre-order in March 28, 2014.

Here is the blurb:

More Than Temptation
By: Taige Crenshaw
Totally Bound
Coming May 9, 2014
Series: Singleton Agency, Book # 3
Genre: Contemporary
Length: Novel
Format: E-Book

When temptation rises giving in is the more than sweet.

Bella Locke works hard at her supper club and doesn’t have time for anything else…or so she thinks. A special event at her club brings Bella to her favorite candy shop where she meets a man who is pure temptation.

Morgan James has a major sweet tooth. Visiting the candy shop for some treats, Morgan runs into a woman whose sweet, smoky voice makes him think of things he would rather not. His life is good, settled—he doesn’t need any complications. He tells her so too.

She leaves him with an invitation to come find her at a supper club. Despite his misgivings, Morgan seeks her out —Bella is pleased to see him and challenges him to take a chance.
They both are swept away into something that could be more than temptation.

~~~~

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 Thursday!

Monday, February 17, 2014

Ink Motions with Dena Garson and a giveaway!

tcinkmotions-sm3-300x172

 

 

Ink Motions - Interview

 

When or what made you decide to become an author?

I’ve long been a reader. One day, my BFF and I were sitting around talking about a book we had both read and how we hated waiting for the next book to come out. She said “one of us should be writing this stuff.” I agreed with her! So I did some research, joined Romance Writers of America as well as a local writing group, took a few classes on publishing and learned everything I could about the romance industry.

 

How do you get an idea for your novel?

Something will trigger a scene in my head. If the scene catches enough of my attention I begin to dissect it. Who are the people and how did they come to be in the situation I was seeing? I ask “why” an awful lot. The answers lead to more questions and eventually become a book.

 

What is the inspiration you use?

Inspiration comes from a variety of places. Often it’s a conversation with a friend. Sometimes it’s an article in a magazine or newspaper. I’ve even had a couple of dreams that stuck with me enough to write them down.

 

What is your writing style?  Do you just sit down and write or do you create character sketches, outlines, or notes?

I am a plotter. I may draft the original scene that inspired the book idea, but I have to create a working outline before I get very far with a manuscript. When I don’t have an outline, I lose focus and find it hard to write the next scene.

As I write, I make notes about my characters because I’m often discovering things about them that I didn’t know in the beginning.

 

What is the type of voice you use and why?

When I began writing for publication I wrote in first person. For some reason it was more comfortable to write as if I were telling my BFF the story. Risky Business actually started out in first person, but I changed it when I did a rewrite for my previous editor. Ghostly Persuasion and Mystic’s Touch are both written in third person. That was just the way I saw the stories unfold in my head.

 

How many novels have you written including all work in progresses you are currently working on?

I have five books published with Ellora’s Cave and a sixth coming out on Feb. 13th. As for WIPs, I’m embarrassed to admit I have at least a dozen in various states of completion. This past year, I forced myself to prioritize that list. Five bubbled to the top as something I might be able to finish in a few months if I tried hard enough.

 

Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about their writing that captures your soul?

I can’t say that there is any one author that I idolize. There are many I admire for different reasons.  Sherrilyn Kenyon is a great story teller and I admire how she isn’t afraid to torture her characters even as she adds humor and sarcasm to the adventure. Julia Quinn writes wonderfully light hearted stories that never fail to make me laugh. Angela Knight’s sex scenes are some of the hottest I’ve read without going too far over the top. Hannah Howell has a way of sucking me into her stories to the point that I block out everything around me in the real world. I often take her books with me on an airplane just so I can forget how uncomfortable I am.

 

What is your current work in progress and how did get the idea for the WIP?

My current WIP is a Native American historical with paranormal elements. And of course it will be a sensual romance. The idea came from two places. A friend of mine has been pushing me to write a book with Native American characters since my own family has roots in the Choctaw nation. Then, as I was reading a few Cherokee myths and legends, one stuck with me. It was about skinwalkers – medicine men who could transform into an animal by wearing the skin of that animal. I can’t say more without giving away the plot, so I’ll just say that I’m very excited about this story.

 

Describe the major conflict between the hero and heroine in your novel?

In my newest release, Mystic’s Touch, the major conflict is that my heroine has been asked to heal the Prince but by doing so, she risks deepening a telepathic connections she has with him and revealing that she descended from a line of Mystics who have been banished from the kingdom for several generations.

 

Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write?

Write, write and write some more. Even when your manuscript is rejected by a publisher, don’t give up. Don’t give up on yourself and don’t give up on the manuscript. Just because the story wasn’t right for X publisher, doesn’t mean it won’t find a home with Y publisher.

 

Where are the bodies buried? IE Is there any old work in progresses you threw aside and decided not to complete and why?

I am an eternal optimist. I have a couple of stories that no longer generate excitement for me, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t someday think of a new twist to the plot or characters that will motivate me to finish them.

I do have a story that I started with the idea of including a ménage. But as I got into the story line and learned more about my characters I realized I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t write the ménage. I still can’t. But one of these days I will finish that story!

 

What is a good villain?

One that makes me love to hate them.

 

 

mysticstouch_msr

 

Mystic's Touch


Release Date: Feb. 13, 2014


ISBN: 9781419938023




When Prince Ceros returns home to take his place on the throne, he falls prey to a mysterious malady that leaves him unable to speak or move, though his thoughts and awareness remain intact. Danet, a talented healer, realizes the prince is alert inside his body. The two are able to share thoughts telepathically. Unfortunately her connection with Ceros may bring unwanted attention to her abilities and result in her banishment from the city.



Their unique bond grows as Danet races to find a remedy for the prince’s condition. Desire turns to love, which makes Danet fear for their future when he awakens. They seek out the villain attempting to take the throne and endeavor to find a way to stay together.






An excerpt from Mystic’s Touch:


 

By the Gods, why can no one hear me!

 

Ceros continued to yell until even the voice in his head began to sound hoarse. Still no one responded. There were people in the room. He could hear them moving about and whispering. Since he couldn’t turn his head, he couldn’t see anything except the same ceiling view he’d had since he’d awakened.

 

Could be worse. My eyes could have been closed.

 

He tried to move an arm, a leg, a finger. He tried to turn his head again, but nothing worked that he could tell. One of the physicians had told his mother earlier they were bewildered by what ailed him. They only know half of the puzzle. His body may not be responding to any of the pokes and prods as they tested his reactions, but he could feel everything, hear everything and see the few things that passed through his line of sight.

 

He simply had no control over his own limbs.

 

It was frustrating beyond belief to not be able to communicate. He tried to tell them he was alive and functional inside his shell of a body.

 

Thank the Gods his mother insisted they feed him what they could. So far it had been water and broth mixed with some kind of herbs. All spooned in small quantities as someone encouraged his throat muscles to work. Ceros knew his body would soon wither away if they didn’t find a cure for whatever was wrong.

 

With nothing else to do, Ceros replayed his memories of the morning and tried to discern what happened. He’d had no unknown food or drink since he and Gehiji left Shirghada. They’d packed their own rations before leaving and traveled alone.

 

Gehiji was no threat. He’d protected Ceros’ back more times than he cared to think about. And Ceros had done the same for Gehiji.

 

He remembered meeting Aleric and the council members at the oasis on the outskirts of Licosia. After that, his memory became clouded.

 

When he woke, his father’s old physician, Darius, was speaking with his mother. He couldn’t see her, but he was sure it was his mother who clung to his hand. Darius said he didn’t know what was wrong but promised to consult some colleagues and dig through his tomes to find an answer.

 

His mother came and went several times through the day, but her own physician had cautioned her against staying and exhausting herself when there was nothing she could do to help. Ceros hated being the cause of more grief for her. She had just lost her husband, the father of her children, her king. She was probably worried she would lose him too.

 

What if the throne were in jeopardy?

 

If it hadn’t already been chilled, his blood would have run cold at the thought.

 

His father’s death had been labeled a hunting accident. Even though he knew how many things could go wrong on a hunt, Ceros felt there was room for speculation.

 

Ceros had been away from the royal court and the related politics for years. There would be no reason for anyone to hold a grudge against him. If his present condition was the result of someone’s attempt to kill him, it would most likely be someone who felt he or she had a chance to gain power, or perhaps even rule over Licosia.

 

He ran through the list of people who would step up in power if he died or was deemed unfit to rule by the council. While he’d been away, he allowed himself to get caught up in the politics of Shirghada instead of Licosia. He didn’t readily remember all of the highest-ranking council members.

 

In his present condition, he couldn’t ask anyone. He couldn’t even make a list of the names he did know.

 

Damnation! If he got out of this predicament, he would remedy that problem as quickly as possible. He allowed himself a string of curses to relieve some of the tension he felt building up inside.

 

That’s a very creative use of more than a dozen curses. And all of them used in a single thought too.

 

Ceros was startled by the sound of a female voice inside his head. Oh Gods, I’ve finally gone mad. Now I’m hearing voices.

 

You haven’t gone any more mad than I, the voice attempted to reassure him.

 

That isn’t a comforting thought.

 

The voice laughed, the light sound dancing through his mind, soothing some of his frustrations.

 

Who are you? Ceros asked.

 

There was a pause before the voice answered.

 

I don’t think I will reveal that just yet.

 

Do you know who I am? Ceros asked, allowing his royal breeding to show in his voice.

 

I believe so.

 

You don’t know for sure?

 

I didn’t at first, no.

 

How long have you been listening to my thoughts?

 

I first heard them this morning, but mistook them for echoes from somewhere within the palace. When I realized no one else could hear you and sensed how frustrated you were, I began looking for the source.

 

How is it that you can speak to me? Inside my thoughts, that is.

 

The voice paused again. I cannot say.

 

Cannot? Or will not?

 

A little of both I suppose. If it makes you feel better, I don’t think I can hear all of your thoughts all the time.

 

What do you mean?

 

This is the first time I’ve heard anything. Today was, I mean.

 

That makes me feel somewhat better.

 

I suspect that your thoughts were projected due to your intense emotional outburst.

 

Ceros considered her theory. It made sense. Do you think that anyone else can hear my thoughts?

 

Again the voice paused. It’s doubtful.

 

Why you then?

 

The voice sighed, or so it seemed. Will you allow me to find the answer to that question before I tell you?

 

Do I have a choice?

 

The voice chuckled. Not really.

 

 

 

Buy links for Mystic’s Touch:


 

EC:- http://www.ellorascave.com/mystic-s-touch.html

 

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Mystics-Touch-Dena-Garson-ebook/dp/B00G6MYL8S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1385087163&sr=1-1&keywords=mystic%27s+touch

 

Barnes & Noble –

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mystics-touch-dena-garson/1117433039?ean=9781419938023

 

 

Inside Scoop: Ceros’ secret shifter status adds complication and intrigue to their budding romance.

 

A Blush® fantasy romance from Ellora’s Cave


 

Blush sensuality level: This is a sensual romance (may have explicit love scenes, but not erotic in frequency or type).

 

signing-crp

Dena Garson loves to read romance—the hotter the better. When one of her BFFs said “one of us should be writing this stuff”, she took up the challenge. If she isn’t writing, she’s designing jewelry but somehow she still manages to make it into the office on a regular basis.

 

Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page

 

 

 


Rafflecopter giveaway!


 

 

Monday, February 10, 2014

Ink Motions with Emily Carrington

tcinkmotions-sm3

 

Ink Motions - Interview

 

How do you get an idea for your novel?

I’m pretty political, and yet romances are my passion, not political thrillers. So almost everything I write has a kernel of politics at its heart. The Dragon in Training series was about equality in all its forms. Heartwood and its sequel, Black Mahogany, are about the difficulties of coming out in a small town—and some of the attendant stereotypes on both sides of that challenge. Tell Me I’m Home is, at its heart, about Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, although the first story in this omnibus takes place before DADT was put in place.

 

What is your writing style?  Do you just sit down and write or do you create character sketches, outlines, or notes?

Oh boy. My outlines are notorious among my writing friends. I go scene by scene, writing out Goal, Motivation, and Conflict (GMC). Character sketches on top of all that have also become commonplace. I’m a writer trapped in a mathematician’s brain.

 

Who is the "Writing Muse" in your life? I.E. who gets your juices flowing when you are blocked? For people, that’s my girlfriend Kitty and my best friend, Katie. For music, it’s mostly Nickelback and musicals.

 

How many novels have you written including all work in progresses you are currently working on?

I have six published, but there are three others on the way. (I try not to work on so many at once, but I couldn’t help it this time.)

 

Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about their writing that captures your soul?

Two authors: Suzanne Brockmann and Stephen King. Suzanne Brockmann wrote the first mainstream romance where two gay men fall in love. If that’s not inspiring, I don’t know what is. (It’s called Force of Nature in case you’re interested.) From Stephen King, I’ve learned that it doesn’t take monsters to be scary. It’s all about the anticipation and horror you create in the mind—yours and your readers’.

 

What is your favorite plot line type?

I love romances where both heroes (or heroines) start with a seemingly insurmountable difference (in ideology, emotional make-up, or something physically daunting) and grow to love each other because of that difference. If my novels all have a kernel of politics, they also have a kernel of this plot type.

 

Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write?

Start with what you love, not what you know. If you like writing about the Civil War but don’t know anything about it, write the novel first before you do the research. There’s always time to tweak the facts in the second draft. Get the story down first.

 

What is a good villain?

Someone who scares your pants off by how normal they seem on the surface while planning terrible things against the hero.

 

ec_tell me I'm home_coverfr

Blue Ticket:


Small town New York, 1946: Fresh from the horrors of post-atomic Hiroshima, all Don Chesterfield wants is to forget what he saw, and grieve the friend and almost-lover he lost. Back in the States after receiving a blue ticket discharge, he finds shelter a few days before Christmas with Will Jefferson, a black man who immediately sparks Don’s sexual fire and imagination.


 Will refuses to accept their powerful attraction, because of trouble he’s had with white men in the past, but try as he might, he can’t resist the pull to get to know Don. They grow closer, revealing their struggles and bonding over their unfair discharges, until their sexual attraction explodes into violence and tenderness.


 As each seeks for a way to reunite with his family, he wonders: could this man be the answer to something he wants even more than the family into which he was born?


 Adeste Fideles:


As half of the first gay couple on his Air Force base, Xander Tsoukatos feels like he’s being studied–like a bug under a magnifying glass–by the base community. His lover, Sergeant John Tsoukatos, doesn’t help when he directs Xander like he would any fellow soldier.


After seven years together, in which Xander follows John through transfer after transfer, from base to base, they are finally settled in one place and married. Without all the upheaval, they learn quickly they’ve lost any connection between them beyond sexual attraction.


 Now they must either explore the virtues of Christmas–hope, faith, and fidelity–to bring them closer, or give up each other forever.

 

Excerpt

(This is from my WIP, A Pack of His Own: Hunter’s Claim)

 

A strong, well-remembered hand closed around Charlie’s automatically outstretched right. Then the man before Charlie pushed that hand aside and grasped Charlie’s left, white cane and all.

Charlie laughed as lean, muscular arms pulled him close and tightened around his back. It was Luis. His nose had been right.

“I was planning to see you here,” Luis whispered in Spanish, his voice richer than the thrum of the best-played bass. “But I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

Charlie drank in Luis’s scent for another moment, relished how Luis held him for a breath, and then pulled back slightly, though he was still safe in Luis’s embrace. “It’s good to see you.” That was an understatement, and he was hard-pressed not to resume the kisses he’d run from in March. He had no right to such a warm welcome, and for a breath his heart lodged in his throat.

Then another smell, a stench compared to Luis’s heady aroma, invaded the library, and Charlie stepped away completely. He held up one finger. “Un momento.

Luis retreated several paces, and Charlie blinked at the psychic vampire’s discretion. Luis hadn’t possessed anything close to respect for duty or circumspection when they’d worked together in Tampa.

Charlie went to the library doors, meaning to close them, but the werewolf he’d smelled stood before him. He made the conscious switch to English, realizing he must be overwhelmed by Luis’s presence if the change needed to be willed rather than instinctive. Or maybe I’m intoxicated again. As he’d been when he and Luis tumbled into bed for a single, blissful hour. Maybe it wasn’t the Lady Lavender drinks that got me drunk in March. It could’ve been Luis.

“Yes?” he asked, pushing for the authority he didn’t technically have here but that he should. If only.

“I came to see if everything’s all right,” said the female wolf.

Charlie blessed his quick ears and his quicker memory. “Thank you, Cassandra, but Agent Delgado and I are fine.” It had crossed his mind to say “satisfied” or “more than comfortable.” Five minutes in Luis’s presence and I’m ready to throw in all the hard-earned camouflage. “He’s here regarding the peace summit.”

“Stop talking,” Luis whispered in Charlie’s mind. “She’s intimidated by you already. Don’t spoil it.”

That was why Charlie had fled Luis. The psychic vampire couldn’t be trusted not to spy.

Or feed.

“Get out of my head.” Aloud he said, “Thank you for your diligence, Cassandra.” He reentered the library, closing the doors in her face. He crossed to Luis and the two of them sank down onto the leather sofa. “Thanks for telling me, but ask my permission next time before you jump into my thoughts.” As if such a reminder would keep Luis in check. Charlie had watched, back in March, as the psychic vampire tapped indiscriminately into people’s heads.

He’d pissed off Agent Tavery, when angering a water dragon wasn’t wise.

He’d barged into an unshielded human’s mind in the name of doing his job.

“It’s not that I’m not grateful for your insight,” Charlie continued in Spanish, in case Cassandra still lingered by the door. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of this pack’s minds.” Now that was interesting. He’d planned to say “my pack’s.” What had changed his mind?

“I’ll be good.”

Even though he sounded repentant, Charlie didn’t believe. Still, it was a step in the right direction. So he spoke more gently. “They’re all suspicious. How did you handle getting in here?”

“I hid my eyeteeth when I smiled. And of course I sent out a general impression—not into anyone’s mind specifically—that I’m harmless.”

If Luis wasn’t a SearchLight agent, such things would be accepted as a matter of course. SearchLight’s employees were held to a higher standard however, and Charlie wondered how Luis had risen to such a high position—second in command of his department—with such a slipshod modus operandi. Then, remembering that Luis was a tracker and that trackers were allowed many freedoms, Charlie set aside his frustration. It felt too good to see Luis. There would be time for chewing the younger magical creature out. Surely Luis would give him plenty of opportunities.

So Charlie smiled a little to hide his feelings. “Since when have you known how to manipulate werewolves?”

 

 

Bio 

Emily Carrington started writing with Loose Id in 2011. She discovered erotic romance—especially fantasy and contemporary—were a joy to write. She has published five novels and two novellas (under one title) since that time, and has several other manuscripts in the works.

www.emilycarrington.com

https://www.facebook.com/emily.carrington.370

https://twitter.com/CarringtonEmily

Monday, February 03, 2014

Ink Motions with Evelyn Shepherd

tcinkmotions-sm3

 

Ink Motions - Interview

 

 

How do you get an idea for your novel?
Honestly? All sorts of ways. My main inspiration is that I want to write stories where my main characters aren’t defined by their sexuality. For my most recent novel in the Theo Bourne series, I was actually inspired by Slender Man. I wanted to write a story based around his “myth”.

My newest story (which is slated to release in March), there was a lot that gave me inspiration. I pulled influences from multiple books in fantasy, RPG video games, and the bible. Crazy, right? But I wanted to write a fantasy story set with two gay characters, and I wanted to create a world rich enough that you could get lost in it—a world you would want to live in.

 

What is your writing style?  Do you just sit down and write or do you create character sketches, outlines, or notes?

 

My style varies per each book, I think. Before any book though I sit down and create multiple outlines. Depending on the book, I may also create notes, character sheets, diagrams, and so forth.

 

Who is the "Writing Muse" in your life? I.E. who gets your juices flowing when you are blocked?

My roommate, Laney. I just have to talk to her and I can work out my problems for a story. Music wise, I’m heavily inspired by  Linkin Park, Breaking Benjamin, and 30 Seconds to Mars. I listen to them a lot when I’m doing fight scenes. But all kinds of music inspires me, depending on the story.

 

How many novels have you written including all work in progresses you are currently working on?

 

10: 5 published, 1 slated for release, 1 beginning the editing stages with my editor, and 2 that I’m currently working on. Then of course there are all the ideas that I have bouncing around in my head, demanding attention.

 

Who is your "writing idol"? I.E. Who do you like and what is it about there writing that captures your soul?

 

F. Scott Fitzgerald made me want to write. Diane Wynne Jones and Neil Gaimen made me want to write fantasy.

 

What is you favorite plot line type?

 

Fantasy. I love, love, LOVE fantasy. So much. I love creating worlds. I also love horror and action. Fight sequences are so fun to write.

 

Is there any advice you can offer to anyone who would like to write?

 

I know they always say it, but never give up. You don’t have to write every day. You don’t have to read every day. But if you want to write, and I mean if you truly want to write and be published, you can’t give up. You have to harden your skin against rejection, accept that what you write isn’t going to be perfect and that there’s a chance someone has done it better, and continue to pursue your dreams. Hold them close and don’t let anyone extinguish the flame.

 

What is a good villain?

 

Someone that makes you feel. Anyone can do a bad thing. A villain is someone that does a horrible thing and you feel for it. You feel for them. You feel for the victims. You’re torn between jeering him/her and cheering him/her. He/She has as many dimensions as the protagonist. An in depth character with flaws, a past, and a drive.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

ES_WhiteBoneRedSky_coverlg

 

Genre: Paranormal; Suspense; LGBT
Series: Theo Bourne; Previous Book: One Bad Day; and Event Horizon

Theo and Carlos are called out of vacation when a madman called the Bogeyman begins to butcher small children. It's a race against more than the clock as a third victim is abducted. The FBI has stepped in to put an end to the terror that has seized Columbus, but with very few clues to go on, Theo and Carlos are left scrambling for answers. Rhett Bishop just might be the help they've been looking for, but it comes with a price - one Theo isn't sure is worth paying.

The deeper they delve into the bloody massacre rocking Columbus, the more things spin out of control. Theo struggles with his own crippling fears and tries to build the courage to ask Carlos one of the most important questions of his life. But things can never go easy for the two detectives, and as they sort through their case, Carlos begins a battle of his own. A contender has stepped up to take Carlos's place as Alpha of the local werecoyote pack. If Carlos isn't careful, he may lose more than his position as pack leader.

 

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this site.


An Excerpt From: WHITE BONE, RED SKY


Copyright © EVELYN SHEPHERD, 2013


All Rights Reserved, Loose-Id, LLC.


“We just got our bags.” I passed Carlos the keys to my Challenger. I had broken down and traded in my Mustang when it had been on the receiving end of one too many lycanthrope attacks.

“Good. Vacation is over, then. I need you down here at a new scene.”

There was something tight in his voice that made a fist squeeze my stomach until it felt like my airplane pretzels were going to come back up.

“On our way,” I said. Chief rambled off a location and disconnected before I could end the call.

“What’s going on?” Carlos asked as he popped the trunk with the key fob.

“Not sure, but Chief wants us to see a crime scene.” I passed him my suitcase and bag. After we quickly loaded up, I took the keys back and slid into the driver’s seat. My hopes of a shower and bed were blown away with the exhaust as I peeled out of the parking lot.

Carlos and I were partners on the Columbus Police Department’s Preternatural Task Force, or PTF for short. The supernatural have lived among us as legal citizens for years now. It was my and Carlos’s job to investigate any crimes that arose among the arcane dark side of Columbus.

It worked for us because we each had our own ties to the inhuman. Carlos was the leader of the local werecoyote pack, though at the moment, his standing was a bit shaky. I was a Phantom, a human with the combined powers of telekinesis and bilocation. Creating doppelgängers was my specialty.

“Well, the break was fun while it lasted,” Carlos said as he leaned his seat back. I reached over and patted his thigh encouragingly. It would have been nice to ease back into work, but there was never rest for the maleficent.

I got on I-670 and worked my way west, making a loop to I-70. The interstate was dead this late on a Wednesday night, giving me clearance to test how high the gauge on my speedometer could go.

Carey Wayland Elementary, where Chief had asked us to meet him, was just off Livingston, two blocks down from the High Street intersection. I coasted to a stop behind a police car and cut the engine. The crime scene was crawling with officers. A perimeter had been set up around the school, blocking a few curious bystanders from treading on the evidence.

The fist around my stomach clenched into a vise. I had an inkling that whatever was beyond the police tape was something I didn’t want to see. I grabbed the keys and pulled myself out of the car. Carlos followed behind me as I approached the tape and slid my badge out.

Like my gun, I always kept my badge on hand. I had secured both Carlos’s gun and mine in a lockbox and brought them with us to Madrid. I never knew when the shit would hit the fan, and the bad guys didn’t care if we were on vacation.

“I’m Detective Bourne, and this is my partner, Detective Ramirez,” I said to the officer standing watch. He glanced at my badge and lifted the tape for us.

The school’s playground had a ten-foot, chain-link fence wrapped around it. Spotlights had been set up at various points, illuminating the crime scene with a harsh fluorescent flood. Police lights spilled across the pavement and over the rusted swing set and jungle gym, which looked like they dated back to the nineties. A stifling breeze rattled the swing chains.

We were just about to head into July, and the summer so far had been anything but merciful. Even after two weeks of being gone, none of the humidity had abated. Sweat had already begun to form along my back. My black T-shirt clung to me like a second, soggy skin.

“Bourne, Ramirez!”

Chief Pratt waved us over to a tall slide. Chief was a cross between a walrus and a boar: heavy on the Italian and horns. Over the years, his hair had thinned out and left him with a laurel of steel hair. He puffed on his cigarette like a steam engine and talked around the cancerous stick in his mouth.

“It’s about time you showed your asses.”

“Sorry, next time I’ll try not to be on vacation,” I said and turned to the cadaver. After years of solving grisly murders, it was natural to keep my game face on, but it never made it easier to see the victims. The acid in my stomach soured in the summer heat, even though there wasn’t the usual tang of blood that lingered around cadavers. Of course, that didn’t mean the scene wasn’t any less violent.

A girl, Caucasian and no older than ten, was stretched out along the bottom of the slide, her arms crossed over her chest. Her hands had been removed at the wrists, and her skin had taken on the ashy pallor of death. Her eyes stared blindly up at the sky, searching for a hope that had been too late.

“Shit,” I heard Carlos hiss behind me. I held my hand out and took the set of latex gloves Chief passed me.

“Has she been photographed?” I asked. With a snap, I slid the gloves on and crouched beside the body. “So who is she?”

Chief nodded. “Stacy Markegarde, age ten. She was reported missing a week ago by her father after she didn’t come home from gymnastics class.”

I ran a finger along the incision on her wrist. The skin was slightly puckered and shriveled back, like it would be from a burn, but otherwise the incision was clean. I could see the bone and muscle of her arm. The muscle had dried to a reddish brown, and I watched as a june beetle crawled across the tendons. I brushed it off and continued my examination up her body. As I lifted her arms, I noted they had begun to stiffen.

Buy Links: 


Amazon

Loose Id



14522_10152329782160142_2059614258_n


I started writing really young, but didn’t pursue it as a career choice until a failed attempt at pursuing a degree in criminology. Now I’m a full fledged writer. My works include the Theo Bourne Series and The Meteora Trilogy. My story I Am Here has been nominated for an EPICon Award in horror.


www.evelynshepherd.com


www.sheblindedmewithmagic.tumblr.com


https://twitter.com/eveeshepherd

Finding me around the web....

This is posted on a monthly basis. In addition to here on my blog or on my website, if you want to find me around the web you can check me o...