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September Goals

Determined to break out of my sleepy laziness this month, I’m going to publically set some goals.  I have too much to do this fall to let the lazy days continue much longer! 

September has always been a sort of “redo” month for me.  The end of summer, back to school, cooler days (I hope!).  For years, it’s also been a time to recommit or reset my annual goals.  I tend to have fairly large output between now and December, and this month will be the warmup and slow build toward NaNoWriMo craziness.

My goal this month is simple:  30K words.  On anything.  Combined projects.  It doesn’t matter.  I just need to get the output higher.  I’m slowly getting back into the school routine so I’m hoping to get my writing time set in the Dark & Early hours again.

Projects I’ll be working on this month:

  • Vicki
  • Shadowed freebie
  • new novella, working title Phantom

If I can finally finish Vicki, I’ll be singing Hallelujah!

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Review: The Bloodgate Guardian

Harry of A Dude reads PNR fame for The Book Smugglers says:

I love that Jaid is vulnerable. I love the fact that she is smart-ass, not kick-ass. She doesn’t do the whole super ninja vixen. No leather pants and favorite blades for this chick. She’s nerdy and the Un-Indiana Jones of the faculty. Brilliant characterization, right there. Pure gold. It makes Jaid stand out from all the other leading females in the genre. I also can honestly say that Jaid’s the strong woman urban fantasy and paranormal romance has been boasting with. She’s not sure she will win and she is mortified to venture, but she does. She falls down and picks herself up, because the situation demands it. That’s what I call bravery and perseverance.

Of course there were a few parts he didn’t like.  Names.  (Oh, you know the drama we already went through over the names, right?)  Shapeshifter.  Yes, the Maya did believe that the most powerful shamans could actually transform into the sacred jaguar.  He also thought it ended too happily.  Considering the version I had originally written [Everybody dies. The end.], I can only smile.

You can read the entire review here.  Thank you, Harry!

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Retake Homemade: Blueberry Compote

This is not going to be an exact recipe — I didn’t measure anything.  But it was so good, I had to blog about it. 

What’s funny:  I don’t even like blueberries.  Not really.  I can eat them in moderation but just to sit and eat them alone, no.  However, I’d made some multi-grain pancakes this morning and I didn’t want to ruin all that healthy goodness with regular syrup, and we were out of applesauce.

[Aside:  warmed cinnamon applesauce, no sugar added, is fantastic over whole-grain pancakes!]

I remembered the blueberries in the freezer, but I didn’t want to eat them whole on my pancakes.  I was afraid I wouldn’t like them, and I certainly didn’t want to ruin my lovely pancakes!  So I decided to try and make some syrup or compote – I’m not sure what it technically was, but it was sooo good, I’ll definitely do it again.

About 1 1/2 c. of frozen blueberries

About 1/4 c. of sugar.  I just sprinkled a little to cover in a small saucepan.

1-2 T of water to moisten the sugar. 

Cook on med-low as the rest of the breakfast is cooking.  The blueberries melt and begin making their own juice. 

Mine were too runny, so I mixed up a little corn starch in cold water and poured in.  Instant blueberry “sauce” that tasted like pie.

So good!  I used it as topping on my pancakes, but it’d make an incredible crepe (if I knew how to make them) with a little cream cheese.  Oh yum.  I think I need to learn how to make crepes!

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Blogging Mojo

(If you’re looking for the Friday Snippet, it’s one post down — I posted it last night.)

Sorry I’ve been a bit absent this month.  I haven’t had much to talk about, so instead of writing a boring plain-Jane blog post, I’ve simply tried to write.

Yes, tried.  This has been a hard month.  I’ve made modest progress on Vicki but I’ve also been scattered by plot bunnies.  I’ve had something happen TWICE this month that I’ve always longed for — editors have asked me specifically for stories.  Of course that’s wonderful!  But I don’t have anything finished that’s not already contracted.  Many of my ideas percolating on the back burner are connected and so by association, will already have a home assuming they meet with approval. 

I really needed two entirely new ideas.

So I pulled out my Little Black Book – a Moleskin journal I bought at B&N – that’s sort of my catch-all idea book.  When I see a movie, hear a song, overhear a line of conversation, etc. that sparks an idea or feeling, I jot it in that book.  Some are more fleshed out than others, and eventually I’ll move the project to its own notebook or folder.  I’ve been reviewing those ideas, going over my partial files, and listening with that inner sense that tells me YES, this is what I need to work on.

It has to be special.  It has to have heart, that IT feeling that makes me excited to get up at 5 AM and work on it.

Last night, several ideas finally gelled and I was able to get beyond basic premise to almost plot.  I simply need to figure out who my antagonist is and how the ending will pan out.  Some really freaky coincidences have happened in brainstorming that gave me chills.  Things I did not plan, but once I got into the research, made eerie perfect sense. 

Needless to say, my schedule is in a bit of flux.  Because of the distractions, I haven’t finished Vicki and the month is almost over.  I’m juggling things up and down in priority, filing a few things for later, etc.  I still plan to attack the shortest novella on Sept 1st so the next few days I’ll really be hammering out last minute plot details and getting whatever I can on Vicki.  I don’t know if I can manage drafting two projects at the same time — we’ll see.  Both are contemporary, Texan (Dallas vs. Houston), BDSM, and even menage!  Eeee!  Yet they’re entirely different in setup and characterization.  Pretty cool stuff, actually, and I’ll be excited to talk more about them.

Once my editors sign off on them. 🙂

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Friday Snippet: Lie to You (Part 2)

Edited to add Victor’s cover, in case you haven’t seen it yet.  Continuing the free read Lie to You, Victor’s prequel.  (Part 1)

Warning:  BDSM and sexual content.

After last night’s activities, his bad knee hurt worse than usual, compounded by an assortment of bruises and marks on both thighs.  Scowling, Victor straightened his legs out beneath his desk.  Tendons torn years ago pulled and burned almost as badly as the day he’d blown his knee.  The steady ache did little to improve his mood, which admittedly was always bad the morning after he indulged his sadist.

The intercom lit up and made an annoying chime.  He stabbed the button.  “Yes?”

His secretary had a hesitant squeak of a voice that made him think she was asking questions every time she spoke.  “Mr. Connagher?”

He was so not in the mood for timid creatures today.  If he wasn’t careful, his VCONN partner would yell at him for scaring off another worthy office manager, but good God, couldn’t he find someone with just a little backbone?  He fought for a gentler approach rather than throwing open his door and bellowing.  “What is it?”

“A new hire is here to see you?  Shiloh Holmes?  Ms. Kannes sent her to meet you?”

Rubbing his knee, he tried not to sigh like a martyr.  “Send her in.”  I’ll try not to scare her off on her first day at VCONN.

He stood to round his desk in welcome, but his damned knee was stiff and fragile, as though too much weight on it would make the whole joint shatter.  He settled for at least standing politely in front of his desk as the door opened and the new hire walked in.

She marched straight up to him and held out her hand.  “Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Surprised by her bold manner, he shook her hand, taking in her wide smile and warm brown eyes.  She met his gaze unflinchingly, which he knew was no small feat.  He decided to push just a little and see how much it would take to make her drop her gaze.  He kept his fingers firm on hers, his gaze as steady and deep as though he sought her deepest secrets.

One brow quirked.  Then the other, her eyes widening with surprise.  The corners of her eyes crinkled and he suspected she might be laughing silently at him, but he didn’t look down at her mouth to find out.    Her eyes warmed to molten chocolate, sparkling like she had a dozen secrets all bottled up just waiting for him to yank them out one by one.

She made a soft little sound, barely more than an indrawn breath, but it made his inner demon perk up with interest.  It was all he could do not to step forward, bury his hand in her tawny hair, and jerk her mouth to his so he could punish her lips for that delicious little moan.

Too late, he remembered that this woman was supposed to be his new employee.  The CEO of the company had no business testing his female employees, and for what?  To see if he could break her?  He already knew he could.  He always did sooner or later.

Abruptly, he released her hand and whirled away.  “Welcome to VCONN, Ms…”

Damn it, he couldn’t remember her name and pain knifed through his knee at the sudden movement.  He was forced to limp the few steps back to his chair and sat down heavier than usual.

“Holmes, sir.”  She replied evenly, not upset in the least by his macho dramatics.  “Shiloh Holmes.  Are you hurt?”

He jerked his gaze up to her face, but saw only open and honest concern, not ridicule or speculative interest.  “Old college football injury.  I tweaked it last night and it’s hurting today.”

“Ah, that explains all the trophies I saw downstairs.”  She gave him a little chuckle of admiration and interest that tightened a fist in his chest where his heart used to reside.  Dressed in a velvety suit that matched her eyes, she sat in front of his desk, alert and eager as new employees usually were, but without any hint of nerves or shyness.  “Are they all yours?”

“From my glory days.  But that was a long time ago.”

“Where did you play?”

He settled back in his chair, amused at how easily she’d turned the tables on him.  Who’s interviewing who?  “Texas A&M for four years.  What position do you think I played?”

Her lips quirked.  “Definitely quarterback.  You’re the kind of man who’d lead the whole team down the field, refusing to settle for someone else calling the plays.”

“Oh, I always call the plays.” Damned if her eyes didn’t smolder.  Didn’t she have any idea what sort of man she was playing with?  “But I think you must have taken notice of the photographs, too.  Maybe you even had time to read one of the clippings in the case.”

Her left eyebrow arched.  “Not at all.”

She lied and she knew that he knew that she lied and she didn’t care, not by the widening smile she gave him.  “Really?”

“Would I lie to you, Mr. Connagher?” 

Polite flirting had turned much too serious.  He couldn’t do this.  Had he learned nothing all those months, pretending to be safe and normal for Kimberly?  Who’s lying now? 

Furious at himself and yes, at her for tempting him, he jerked his hair tighter in the ponytail.  The small pain sharpened his control, but not enough, not with this saucy morsel staring at him with those big chocolate eyes.  He gripped his right thigh and squeezed that bruised muscle until his cheek ticked.

“So what position have I given you here at VCONN?”  Deliberately, he chose rather insulting language to see if he could goad her.  Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d quit.  Today. 

“Associate Producer,” Shiloh answered, adjusting to his professional switch seamlessly without rising to his bait.

“It’s an entry level position.”  He tried to guess her age without asking for her file, and he put her mid to late twenties.  She wasn’t a young woman fresh out of college.

As though she knew his line of thought, she explained, “I worked my way through college, so it took longer than usual, and I’ve had other jobs.”

“Why are you starting over?”

“I wanted something new.”  For the first time, she lowered her eyes, but it was a deceptive move.  She still looked at him through her lashes.  “I like a challenge.”

Unfortunately, so did he, and she was giving off all kinds of submissive invitation vibes, whether she knew it or not.  Giving his leg another painful squeeze, he cautiously waded into more treacherous waters.  In a job interview, it wasn’t customary to ask about a person’s sexual preferences, even if the company was an erotic cable television channel.  “Are you aware of the kind of programming that has made VCONN famous?”

“Of course.  I did my research before applying.”

He wanted to ask if she’d researched him.  Maybe that would explain her familiarity and lack of fear…although if she knew more about him, surely she’d be afraid.  More, though, he wanted to ask if she was submissive or merely a damned good actress.  If she was as attracted as him.

But he didn’t dare.  It was too late.  From the first moment his secretary informed him of the new hire, Shiloh Holmes had been off limits.  The CEO could not dally with female employees without opening himself up for sexual harassment charges.  Especially when said CEO is a sadist.

 

Victor’s story HURT ME SO GOOD will be released Oct. 5th from Samhain Publishing.

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Oklahoma!

So my Beloved Sis has been rehearsing for weeks to be Aunt Eller in the musical Oklahoma! at her local community theatre, along with her friend I know as Pesh (Laurey).  It was a no-brainer that I’d go — but I wasn’t sure if the monsters would make it.  They *wanted* to go, but I had to be realistic. 

After all, Oklahoma is my least favorite musical of all time. 

It goes back to high school when Mr. Adams (music teacher) would let us watch a musical in class the week after regional contest.  It usually took several days for us to get all the way through a musical, and I remember that one whole day’s viewing ended up being that dream sequence where Laurey imagines the shoot out between Jud and Curly.  I hated finding out that whole day was a dream!  Argh!  I felt cheated.

However, that all changed watching Molly and the rest of the cast.  But I have to admit, the FUNNIEST aspect was watching the girls, especially Middle Monster.  I about died laughing at her when the lights came up for intermission.  Her eyes lit up and she said, “Is it over?!?”  Honestly, she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to be disappointed or glad when I told her no, it was only halfway.  She loved it — she was just getting tired of sitting.

All of them were terrified of Jud, despite Molly’s assurances after the show that he was really a big teddy bear.  My Dad was there too and we kept snickering at all the little lines that went right over the kids’ head.  Ado Annie and Ali Hakim had us rolling in the aisles.  Sooo funny — their personalities were perfect and they were able to ad-lib through the little mess ups that make live theatre so much fun.  (Like when Ali accidentally broke a bottle of bath salts as he was reviewing Will Parker’s bag of gifts he’d blown his $50 on.)

Plus we had a nice dinner and strawberry shortcake for dessert, followed by a nice visit at McDonald’s (the only place we could quickly find open at 11 PM) for ice cream, coffee, and dinner for Sis.  We didn’t make it home until after 1 AM but it was so worth it.

It was a night the kids will never forget.  Well done, Sis and Pesh!

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Friday Snippet: Lie to You (Part 1)

(I know it’s not Friday my time yet…but it is Friday somewhere.  Right?  I didn’t want to torment my Twitter buds until tomorrow!)

When the beta readers replied back after reading Victor’s story Hurt Me So Good, several people mentioned wanting to know more about how he and Shiloh first met.  There’s a reference in the opening chapter about how that interview “set his desk on fire.”  That sounds like a great free read, right?

Luckily, Victor agreed, so he’s here to tell you all about that first meeting in a short story “Lie to You.”   Over the next week or two, I’ll serialize it for you here, and then you’ll be able to download it in pdf or epub. 

Warning:  BDSM and sexual content.

 

Victor Connagher stared at the nearly nude woman squirming against her bonds and felt nothing but boredom.

Silken, Dallas’s exclusive bondage club, was packed with eager, fawning submissives and spectators alike.  A few Dominants mingled in the crowd, but only two that he knew, and they were both already involved.  Oh, there were posers who flapped around and crowed like roosters in the hen house, but if they obviously couldn’t control themselves, they wouldn’t be getting too serious with anyone. 

The owner would be desperate for an unattached Dominant to give a real show tonight.

Victor knew he ought to leave, no matter how much he needed to do something, anything, to ease this brutal need.  There was no way in hell he’d play it cool enough to pull off a demonstrative scene, not when he felt this raw and out of control. 

Once upon a time, he’d been able to put on a pretty good show.  He’d drawn out every sweet cry of his submissive, taunted the audience to a fevered pitch, and endured the torment of his own unanswered needs.  Even that denial had been a secret pain that he’d enjoyed. 

Nobody had known he’d been playing a game.  Lying.  To himself and everyone.

A pained gasp drew his gaze back to the bound woman.  Her lover—because if that moron fumbling with a velvet flail was a Dominant with a capital D, then Victor would eat his own crop—landed a blow to her buttocks that wouldn’t have killed a fly.  She squealed dramatically, and Victor clenched his jaws to keep from letting out a derisive laugh. 

So fake.  So scripted.  So boring.

He glanced at the sweating, eager faces watching so avidly and he wanted to scatter them with a few well-placed blows.  Bored out of his skull and pissed that he’d lied this game for years, he turned around to leave but jerked up short.

His ex-fiancée, Kimberly, stood in front of him, twisting her delicate hands together with anxiety, as beautiful and fragile as he remembered.  She’d never kindled any true passion in him, which is exactly why he’d chosen her.  Another lie, that he could pretend long and well enough that she’d never find out what he hid beneath the constant mask he wore. 

I can’t believe I was stupid enough to date her so long, let alone ask her to marry me.

The man she was with wrapped an arm around her waist.  Victor tracked that male arm up to his face and bit back a curse.  Ryan, the owner of the club, boomed a welcome.  “Victor!  It’s so great to see you again!  We’ve been wondering where you’d been lately.”

At least Victor’s boredom was gone, but his stomach churned with a multitude of emotions, shame and regret leading the charge.  He tried to think of something he could say that didn’t make him sound like a jealous asshole, because he really wasn’t jealous.  Not even when Kimberly turned more into the other man’s embrace, clutching him frantically like she thought the big bad wolf was going to eat her whole. 

Eyes bright with hope, Ryan asked, “Could you do a scene for us tonight?  You’d bring the house down!”

For the briefest moment, blinding terror flashed in her eyes, and Victor knew she must be remembering their last night together.  The illusion that he could be a loving, protective husband had been shattered that night, when he’d hurt her so badly that she’d fled, still babbling her safeword.

He felt his face freeze into a cold, empty, and terribly familiar mask.  “No.”

Ryan said something else in that jovial blustering way of his but Victor didn’t hear him.  Without another word, he turned away.  He strode to the exit, his pace measured but determined to get out of there as quickly as possible.  He didn’t let them see the terrifying need hammering away inside his body, or the disgusted shame burning like acid up his throat.  He didn’t let them see him run.  Another lie, because he fled into the night. 

Only when he made it to the privacy of his car did he let the rage bubble free.  He trembled with the force of it.  God, he’d been such a fool.  He’d deliberately hidden his true nature from the woman he professed to love and honor.  He’d lied to everyone, especially himself.  There was no way in hell he could ever step foot back in that club and pretend to be a normal, sane Dominant having a little fun with a willing submissive.

Not with this darkness clawing inside him.

He reached beneath his seat, fumbling a bit until he found what he was looking for.  In the shadowed parking lot, he couldn’t see the details of the crop, but the leather wrapped around the shaft bit into his palm.  He cast a furtive glance to make sure no one was around, and then he brought the crop down across his thighs.  The steering wheel and close quarters hampered his blow, but blissful pain still cut across his skin. 

The sharp crack dissolved some of the desperation shrieking inside him.  So sweet.  It’d been so long since he’d indulged.  Since Kimberly dumped me months ago.

He laid the crop in his lap, started his car, and drove home, fingering that leather with anticipation.  In record time, he stood in his bedroom.  He forced himself to methodically strip and put away his clothes.  He yanked out the band holding his shoulder-length hair back so tight from his face and he felt his control falter. 

Some days the only thing holding him back was that fiercely tightened hair, the constant dull ache on his scalp reminding him to keep the monster at bay.  Tonight, the beast refused to be denied.  Yet he still made himself wait, letting his need build in intensity. 

He tried to imagine a submissive waiting for him to begin.  A woman, bent over the side of his bed, every sweet curve of her body begging for the crop to fall. 

He brought the crop down on his right thigh in a whistling blow that made his entire body jolt, but it was her scream he heard.  She’d be loud, rewarding him with every cry, curse, and shout.  She would be afraid of him…but not terrified.  Not disgusted.  She would endure the pain because he willed it, because he needed it, and she needed and wanted to please him above anything else in this world. 

If he were incredibly lucky—and since this was a fantasy, he might as well enjoy it fully—she’d even get off on the pain, too.  No silly games, no bondage or role play to distract him, only the ecstasy of pain.

He brought the crop down again.  He didn’t need to slowly build intensity, because the need was always there, digging vicious claws into his spine.  He knew exactly how hard he could strike without cutting his skin wide open, but tonight, he did it anyway.  He bled.  He cursed.  And he came with such intensity that his bad knee gave out and he nearly planted his face on the carpet.

He’d punished himself because he had to have pain, and without a willing submissive, his own would have to do.  Most of all, he’d punished himself for the greatest lie of all.

There was no submissive out there somewhere, waiting for him, his pain, and his love.

 

Victor’s story HURT ME SO GOOD will be released Oct. 5th from Samhain Publishing.

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Free Reads Coming Soon

In the next six months, I plan to release 3 new free reads to help build your anticipation for various releases.  I planned to finish Shadowed for Return to Shanhasson first, but Victor had other ideas.  In the past 24 hours or so, he’s given me a really nice spicy but short prequel to share with you before his book Hurt Me So Good releases in Oct.   You’ll get a taste of him tomorrow.  *winks*

I’m still working on Shadowed, and I’m also planning a prequel to Lady Wyre’s story in March.  I know what the event is, I just have to figure out the details.  Faking one’s death and hiring a renowned assassin requires delicate precision!

All short stories will be posted as Friday Snippets and then collected into pdf and epub for easy download.  I plan to upload them to Scribd too.  If you have any other ideas of place to advertise free reads, let me know!

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A Jane Austen Space Opera

In a galaxy where Jane Austen reigns supreme…

Lady Doctor Wyre (we’re already talking about changing the title, too) has been contracted by Samhain and will be available March 2011!

Quite honestly, I’m not really sure what genre this new series falls into, but I’ve been calling it a Jane Austen Space Opera.  It’s not steampunk, exactly, because it’s based on the Regency not the Victorian Era.  It’s sort of Alternative History — except the countries and colonies of the early 1800s are instead planets, so space travel is involved instead of locomotives or dirigibles.  Instead of brass goggles and gears, the gadgets are based on nanotechnology.

Oh, and if you’re expecting the same old Regency tropes, you’re in for a big surprise, because the LADIES rule this galaxy.  Typical roles will be reversed, so expect Lady Rakes, Female Pirates, and Blushing Male Debutantes, where the gentlemen hope to land a titled lady and not the other way around.  These heroines are not wallflowers or spinsters.  They’re subversive and bold and outspoken.  For instance, Lady Wyre may just decide to keep both men who are interested in her.

Funny behind the story moment:  I printed out Mrs. Giggles’ Regency drinking game as inspiration for ways to warp and twist all those beloved Regency tropes!  So you can imagine, this series is going to be a total blast to write, while still having solid, rich worldbuilding and steamy romance.  Stay tuned for details!

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Back to School

Tomorrow’s the day — the monsters head back to a brand new year of school.  I’m not as prepared as I’d hoped, but with the delay in getting our A/C fixed, it’s the best I could do.  Plus we were out of town Sat. for my MIL’s birthday. 

So today was full with a massive grocery run to stock up on school lunch and snack items.  Laundry, of course (it never ends).  I also wanted to start them off with fresh bedding, which isn’t as easy as it sounds, because their beds are buried beneath stuffed animals.  Of course, cleaning off their beds meant we actually had to GET in the DOOR…

Yes, their room is a pig sty.  All three monsters share a bedroom (their choice) with overflow into That Man’s next door office.  We decided to clean his office first (which hasn’t been used all summer because our A/C was out).  That took as long as I’d planned to spend on their room, and we still had to unbury their beds, etc.   I threw away several bags of trash, packed up 3 large tubs of stuffed animals, and tried to organize at least a little.  I’ve still got a few good hours to spend on it yet to get it really well organized, but it’s definitely better than it was.  (You can see the carpet.)

All this work is worth it though because “back to school” means back to a dependable writing schedule for me.  Princess has to be up between 5:30 and 6 AM every morning, which means I’ll be up, too, with plenty of time to get a little writing done. 

In fact, Sept. 1st is always like a new year for me.  A time to rededicate and kick off new goals.  It’s my hope to finish a first draft of Vicki this month so I can move on to Maya#2 Sept, Oct.

Ah, fall!  I can’t wait for cooler, crisp mornings, pumpkins, colorful leaves…  Definitely gets my writing blood pumping!