May You Find Hope...

What does hope really mean to you?  We all hope for more, for greater, and for those sometimes unattainable dreams like marrying Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp, or for my male readers, Megan Fox.  Yes, we dream.  We hope. 

Available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Kobo!

When I began writing The Vampire’s Hope I finished the novella in one week.  The concept of hope (and Vampires) kept me writing.  How?  Before I began, as I was doing my normal research, I found that the ancient Greeks believed that the last evil to escape Pandora’s Jar (not a box as commonly assumed) was Elpis, or the spirit of hope. This spirit of hope was seen as only an extension to suffering. 

What a fascinating concept.  As I mulled over the Greek’s philosophy, I realized what a great story this idea could make, and The Vampire’s Hope was truly born. 

I have put many hours into this novella and finding my own center on the idea of hope.  Yes, hope is a beautiful and wonderful thing.  It keeps us thinking about those things that we desire, the soul mate we dream about, or the outcomes we desperately need.  Delving deeper however, I find moments when hope drives complacency, and lulls people into a false sense of security in the life they have created.  We hope for things that may someday fall into our laps…we blindly hope and we fail to act in ways to achieve our dreams. 

It may come as a surprise to most who have read my dark romances, but I’m a passionate optimist.  I always see the glass as half full, I always hope, and I refuse to give up my dreams.  This book has helped to remind me that I should hope, that I should have a goal, but I must be determined and driven to action.  May you also find hope in this dark, insightful, and fascinating novella, The Vampire’s Hope.

Happy Reading—
Danica Winters

Author Bio:
Danica Winters is an award-winning romance author based in Montana. She is known for writing books that grip readers with their ability to drive emotion through suspense and often a touch of magic. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Montana Romance Writers, and Greater Seattle Romance Writers. She is a contributor to magazines, websites, and news organizations. She enjoys spending time with friends and family, the outdoors, and the bliss brought by the printed word.
Danica has several published works including Curse of the Wolf (her award winning novel), The Devil's Angel, A Christmas Miracle, and The Vampire's Hope.  Her next novel will be released later this winter/early spring. 

Please feel free to head over to facebook and 'like' her page.  Or find her on her website!

(Adult excerpt) In Wicked Chains by Avril Ashton

Elina crumpled to the floor in a quivering heap after Kingston yanked the belt from her wrists. Finally, she knew what his touch felt like on her skin. She’d have proof, real-life images in her head when she went to sleep tonight. But did she pass his test? Had she shown him she could take whatever he dished out?

She lifted her head. He sat next to her on the floor, his back against the couch. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, fists clenching and unclenching at his side.

She swallowed. “King?” He didn’t move, but his jaw flexed. “Kingston, look at me. Please?’

His eyes opened slowly. Pain, lust, and for a brief flash, fear stared at her from his blacker than black gaze. “I can’t do this with you. I won’t.”

“Why?” She scrambled to her feet. Warm moisture slid down her legs. His gaze dipped, settling at the juncture of her thighs before leaping back to her face. He struggled with something, but kept his lips sealed.

“Why won’t you do this with me?” Lips and limbs trembling, she asked, “Is it because of him, my father?’

His eyes flashed. “I’m not going to judge you by your father’s actions, El.” He glanced away. “Besides, we’re kind of in the same unlucky boat when it comes to parents.” 

“Then why?” Elina caught herself before she dropped to her knees. Begging a man to want her, to need her was so beneath the Vicente image, but she couldn’t make herself care. This was Kingston, the man she’d wanted from day one, the one she dreamed of at night, the name she called out in moments of stolen self-pleasure.

He blanked his features. “You’ve been through some stuff with your father and I’d never hold it against you, but today is the first time I’ve seen you be stubborn, be assertive, be…someone other than Elina Vicente, daughter of a dead gangster.”

Tears burned her eyes. “That must tell you something. It must tell you that I want this.” She stepped forward, held out a quivering hand. “I’m offering up myself to you, King. I’m willing to take whatever you dish out.” The words broke in her throat and she had to force them out, but it wasn’t from fear. Anticipation and the thrill of finally admitting her wants and needs to the man who made those emotions come alive was the cause.

What happens if he turns me down?

He jerked upright. “It tells me you still have no idea what you’re asking for. No idea what the words you’re saying really mean.”

“I allowed you to touch me. Make me…” She dropped her hand and pursed her lips.

“Come. That’s the word you’re looking for.” He pushed off the floor and stood, arms folded, deep gaze glued to hers. “I made you come, Elina. You can’t even say it, can you?” 

“Of course I can say it,” she scoffed. “Come. See?” Despite her bold words, heat still swept her face and neck.

Kingston’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, you’re a regular dirty-talker.” He approached slowly, crowding her. She couldn’t hide the reflexive flinch, but managed to squelch the urge to retreat.

I’ve got to be strong. Show him I can do this.

His hand snaked around her waist and yanked her close. His breath feathered across her forehead. Elina shivered and gulped his scent into her lungs. At the faint hint of patchouli, her eyelids fluttered.

“You’re tough, right?” Up close, his words rumbled in her ear.

She nodded up at him.

He grinned, nostrils flared. “Show me.”

“Ho-how?”

“Touch me.” He grabbed her right wrist and laid her palm on his chest. The muscles jumped under his black t-shirt. “Touch me.”

She curled her fingers, teeth digging into her bottom lip. And now came the time to really show and prove. While she had no problems with Kingston’s hand on her body, her confidence surely didn’t extend to being the one who did the touching. Her experiences with Niko were limited to being on the receiving end, except the time she got him drunk and climbed him. Even then, she barely did anything.

“Your hesitation tells me I’m right, you’re not ready.” Kingston’s words interrupted her thoughts.

Usted puede hacer esto, Elina. You can do this. Elina put those words on permanent repeat in her mind and lifted her hand from his chest. Reaching up and behind him, she pulled out the rubber band holding his thick braids in place. They spilled over his shoulders, framing his face and giving him a wild, untamed appearance.

“Shake them,” she whispered.

He did. Tilting his head back, he shook his head with rapid moves. The braids flew around, beauty in motion. When he stopped, she did what she’d wanted to the second she laid eyes on Kingston. She sank her fingers into his hair and wrapped a few stands around her fingers.

His gaze burned her, face inscrutable. She met his eyes and emotions swamped her. “I’ve wanted to do that forever,” she confessed in a husky voice. And today most—if not all—of her dreams came true.

“What else have you always wanted to do?” Kingston shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Show me.”

A little braver, a little more in control of her runaway emotions, Elina did. She removed her hand from his hair and cupped his cheek. His closely shaved facial hairs tickled her palm. She kept her eyes on her hand as she swiped her thumb over his cheekbone.

And again her hand shook. Breath left her in heavy pants. She leaned into him and pressed her nose to his throat. Kingston jerked, then stiffened. His arms rose as if to hold her in place, but dropped back to his sides.

Elina inhaled the salty scent on his skin. Whimpers fell from her lips. Kingston’s chest rose and fell in rapid movements. She swore she heard the thudding of his heart, felt it in his pulse. Nose to him, she slid a hand down his chest and lifted the hem of his t-shirt. His body went back to taut, but she ignored him, dragging the tip of her fingernail across his exposed flesh.

“Fuck!”

The groaned word vibrated in his chest. Triumph raced through her body. She’d made him feel.

AllRomance | Amazon

http://avrilashton.webs.com

http://avril-ashton.blogspot.com

Excerpt: KNIGHT OF RUNES by Ruth A. Casie - PG

England

May, 1605

I should not have stayed away from the Manor so long. Something stirs. Lord Arik’s eyes swept the surrounding area as he and his three riders escorted the wagon with the old tinker and the woman. They sped through the forest as fast as the rain-slicked trail would allow. Unable to shake the ominous feeling of being watched, Arik remained alert. At length, the horses winded, he slowed the pace as they neared the Stone River.

“The forest is flooded. I suspect the Stone will be as well. Willem, ride on ahead and let me know what we face at the crossing.”

Willem did his lord’s bidding and quickly returned with his report. “The river ahead runs fast, m’lord. The bridge is in disrepair and cannot be crossed.”

Arik raised his hand and brought the group to a halt. “Doward,” he said to the old tinker. “We must make repairs. There’s no room for the wagon at the river’s edge. You and the woman stay here and set up camp. Be ready to join us at the bridge when I send word.”

Logan, Arik’s brother, spoke up. “I’ll keep watch here and help Doward and Rebeka.”

Arik nodded and, with the others, continued the half mile to the bridge.

“I am not pleased with this new delay.”

“It can’t be helped, m’lord. We would make better time without the wagon,” said Simon.

“I’ll not leave Doward and the woman unescorted through the forest, not with what we’ve heard lately. We’ll have to drive hard to make up the lost time.”

The frame of the bridge stood solid, the planks scattered everywhere, clogging the banks and shallows. Arik leaped from his horse onto the frame to begin the repairs.

“Hand me that planking.” Arik pointed to the nearest board.

Simon grabbed the plank and examined it. “Sir, these boards have been deliberately removed.”

Arik took the board and lifted it before him. An arrow whooshed out of the trees, and slammed into the plank’s edge. Willem pulled his axe from his belt as Arik and Simon drew their swords. In a fluid, practiced movement, Willem spun and found his mark. He sent his axe flying. The archer fell into the river and was swept downstream, Willem’s axe still lodged in his forehead. A dozen or more attackers broke through the stand of trees.

Arik tossed the board into the river and readied his sword. The enemy was poorly dressed carrying clubs and knives. There was only one sword among them. The leader. Arik’s target.

“They plan to pin us here at the river’s edge. Come, we’ll take the offensive before they form up.” They moved forward, driving a wedge through the enemy’s ragged line, forcing what little formation they had to scatter and fight, each man for himself.

A man, club in hand, rushed at Arik. Before the attacker could bring his weapon into play, Arik pivoted around him. He raised his sword high, and slammed the hilt’s steel pommel squarely on the man’s head. Arik moved on before the man’s lifeless body dropped to the ground.

Willem and Simon, on either side of Arik, advanced through the melee. Their swift continuous swordplay moved smoothly from one stroke to the next, whipping through the air. They slashed on the downswing and again on the backswing, sweeping their weapons back into position to repeat the killing sequence. The knight and his soldiers steadily advanced, punishing any man who dared to come near them.

“For Honor!” Logan’s war cry carried from the small camp to Arik’s ears.

Arik stiffened. Both camps were now under attack. He pulled his blade from an attacker’s chest. The body crumpled to the blood-soaked ground. Arik breathed deeply, the coppery taste of blood in the air. “For Honor!” he bellowed in answer. His men echoed his call, arms thrown wide, muscles quivering, the berserker’s rage overtaking them.

The remaining attackers paled and fled headlong into the forest.

Motioning to his men to follow, Arik raced toward the camp. He could hear the shouts, and cursed himself for not seeing the danger. He crested the hill and came to an abrupt halt.

Logan’s sword ripped through the air as he protected Doward. The tinker drew his short blade and did as much damage as he could. But it was the woman Arik noticed. Her skirt hiked up, she twirled her walking stick like a weapon with an expertise that left him slack-jawed. She dispatched the attackers, one by one, in a deadly well-practiced dance. A man rushed toward her, knife in hand. The sneer on his face didn’t match the fear in his eyes. She stepped out of his line of attack, extended her stick to her side, and holding it with both hands swept the weapon forward, striking the attacker across the bridge of his nose. Blood exploded from his face in an arc of fine spray as his head snapped back. Droplets dusted her face creating an illusion of bright red freckles. As he fell, she reversed her swing and caught him hard behind his knees. He went down on his back, spread-eagled. She swung her stick over her head and landed a precise and disabling blow to his forehead that knocked him unconscious.

As she spun to face the next threat her eyes captured Arik’s and held. In the space of an instant, time slowed to a crawl. Her hair slowly loosened from its pins and swirled out around her. His breath caught and his heartbeat quickened as a rapturous surge raced through his body. Something eternal and familiar, with a sense of longing, unsettled him. In the next heartbeat, she tore her eyes away, leaving him empty. Time resumed its normal pace. Another attacker lay at her feet.

Arik joined the fight.

KNIGHT OF RUNES

by Ruth A. Casie

www.RuthACasie.com

www.blogspot.ruthacasie.com

(R) Excerpt; In Wicked Chains by Avril Ashton

Remember, leave a comment on any of my posts today to be entered to win a copy of In Wicked Chains.

She burst into the bar as Sasha entered.

“Hey, E. Been waiting long?”

Elina brushed past her and out the open door with a choked sob. She’d lose Sasha, too, if her friend ever found out about Elina’s feelings for Kingston.

“Whoa. E, wait up.” Sasha’s heels clicked on the ground as she ran after Elina.

Elina slowed to a stop beside her car and hastily brushed at her damp eyes.

“Hey.” Sasha settled a hand on her shoulder. “Look at me.”

Resigned, Elina turned slowly. Sasha removed her sunglasses and frowned up at her. The concern in her eyes made Elina want to weep even more. She hiccupped.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Movement at the club’s entrance caught Elina’s eye. Kingston stood framed in the entranceway, unbound braids around his shoulders, buckling his belt.

Sasha followed her gaze and frowned. “Did Kingston do something to you? Did he hurt you?” 

“Get in the car.” Her friend opened her mouth. “Now.” Elina slid behind the wheel and started the vehicle, pulling away as Sasha hopped in and slammed the door.

“What the hell is going on?” Sasha buckled her seatbelt and threw her handbag in the backseat.

Elina bit her lip and sped out of the club’s parking lot. She eyed the rearview mirror. Kingston stood in the space she’d pulled out of, arms crossed, staring after them. Silence reigned as Sasha sat beside her patiently, glancing from Elina to the road ahead, and back.

“Lo siento,” Elina said finally. If Sasha no longer wanted to be her friend, she’d deal with it. She’d probably broken some kind of sacred law between best friends. Thou shall not lust after your best friend’s brother, no matter how much he stars in your nighttime fantasies.

Sasha sighed. “You’re scaring me. You know that, right? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I know and I’m sorry.” Elina gripped the steering wheel to hide her trembling fingers. “I-I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did.”

“What did?” Sasha’s voice rose. “Fuck, E, you’re not making any sense.” She twisted in her seat to face Elina. “Stop speaking in riddles before I smack the shit out of you.”

Elina’s lips twitched. Sasha’s violent side always made her smile. “I saw something in Kingston’s office. He and a woman. They were…”

“They were what?” Suspicion laced Sasha’s words. “Tell me and I’ll kick his ass.”

“They were…she was on her knees.” Elina swallowed and forced out the words. “Naked. Pleasuring him with her mouth.” She wanted to say, taking what was mine.

Sasha’s mouth rounded, eyes widened. “Oh.” She faced forward and placed her head back on the headrest. “That’s what has you upset?”

“It should’ve been me,” Elina whispered. Sasha stiffened. She ignored her friend’s reaction and continued. “I’m the one who’s wanted him for months, pretending not to care. Pretending.”

Sasha remained silent, staring straight ahead.

Elina glanced at her. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve broken your trust in me and I understand if you don’t…” Her voice broke. “If you no longer want to be my friend.”

“Pull over.”

Elina flinched at the barked order. She pulled over to the side of the road and sat, silent, waiting for Sasha’s reprimand.

“Look at me.” Sasha unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to grasp Elina’s shoulder.

Elina lifted her chin and met her friend’s gaze.

“You’re in love with my brother?”

Elina nodded. “I’m sorry for—”

Sasha slashed a hand through the air. “Stop apologizing. I’m not mad at you. Surprised, but not mad.”

“Really?” Elina perked up. “You’re not breaking up with me?”

Sasha chuckled. “No. I’m not breaking up with you, E. I’m sorry you had to see him with somebody else. Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“I was. I gave up waiting for him to make a move, to come to me. That’s why I was there, to see him. To tell him how I feel.” She shook her head and turned away before Sasha saw the tears in her eyes. “I think he wants me, too, but then this happens. Maybe he can’t see past our friendship. Or maybe he can’t deal with who I am,” she whispered the last part

“You don’t know that.” Sasha took Elina’s hand in hers. “You can’t know what he thinks until you talk to him.”

“No.” Elina pulled her hand away. “No, I can’t face him, not after that.”

Sasha sighed. “It’s your choice, but I think you should talk to him.” She grabbed her purse from the backseat and opened the car door. “Gimme a sec, I’ll be right back.”

Elina laid her head on the headrest and closed her eyes. She had one load off her chest. Others remained, but at least she had Sasha by her side. She didn’t lose her friend, and that was the one positive in all this.

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Hello from Avril Ashton

Good Morning all. I'm severly under the weather, but I'll be popping in and out today with some excerpts from my latest release, In Wicked Chains. Here's the cover and a little bit about the story, but first: comment on any of my posts throughout the day and you'll be entered to win a pdf copy of In Wicked Chains. Be sure to leave your email addy.

Everyone has secrets. Some people simply bury theirs deeper. Kingston Hughes is one of those. Painful childhood memories plague him, sending him spinning out of control and running from any kind of commitment. He pretends not to feel the pain and loneliness while indulging in sexual encounters with nameless, faceless women.

With the twist of a doorknob, his carefully cultivated faade is shaken by the woman hed forbidden himself to need.

The daughter of a recently slain mobster, Elina Vicente has secrets, too. They weigh her down, stealing her strength and her dreams. Shes developed an unhealthy crush on Kingston though hes never looked at her as anything but his sisters quiet friend. When she walks in on him in a compromising embrace, Elina seizes the chance to move Kingston from her dreams and into her arms.

For only the second time in her life, Elina takes something just for her, but try as she and Kingston might, they cant prevent their pasts from intruding. Shadows of pain and bitterness rise with a vengeance and the lovers will have to decide whether to break free or remain boundIn Wicked Chains.


Available @ AllRomance |  Amazon |  eXtasy Books

Get more info on this and all my other books at http://avrilashton.webs.com
My Blog: http://avril-ashton.blogspot.com
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@AvrilAsh on Twitter  

WELCOME TO THE BOREALIS SPACE STATION

BLACK DRAGON is only one of the novellas set in the BOREALIS universe. But if you are a fan of sci-fi and you like romance, you'll love this series. After two BOREALIS anthologies, come two single title novellas from DESERT Breeze Publishing this month. Here is the complete series so far:

In orbit around Sestus-3, a minor star in a dying system half way between Corabora Prime and Pith, hovering at the edge of conquered space sits an aging space station under the control of the Trans Planetary Protectorate. The Borealis is slowly falling apart as the Protectorate funnels its massive resources into the border wars and keeping the outlaying systems in line, as insurrections break out and a subversive group known as The Rebellion gather and organize to take back what TPP has taken away.

The Borealis is a hive of villainy where anything can be bought or sold -- anything or anyone -- if the price is right. Boasting the slogan 'The last stop for debauchery before falling off the edge of the universe', the station and its inhabitants do their best to live up to the motto.

Once intended to function as a city unto itself when the universe first began to 'shrink' and Mankind spread out into the stars. Exploration turned into domination. Nearly a hundred years have passed since then, and now the Trans Planetary Protectorate governs all. The Borealis, once a thriving station, is now little more than a slum town, decrepit and crumbling.

When the last stop to nowhere is the first stop to rebellion, the lives of a few outcasts are the only thing standing between the Universe and all out war.

BOREALIS  ANTHOLOGY  BOOK ONE:

Contains novellas by

PI J. Barrington , Gail R. Delaney , J. Morgan

BOREALIS  ANTHOLOGY BOOK TWO

Contains novellas by:

Stephanie Burkhart , Esther Mitchell , She McMaster

BOREALIS - BLACK DRAGON
by Vijaya Schartz - October 1, 2011

BOREALIS - THIS SINCING FEELING

by Michelle Levigne - October 15, 2011 

HAPPY READING.

Vijaya Schartz

Romantic Science Fiction with a Kick

http://www.vijayaschartz.com/

BLACK DRAGON - a romantic novella of the Borealis Space Station Universe - by Vijaya Schartz

BLACK DRAGON

A Borealis Novella

Romantic Science Fiction

by Vijaya Schartz

Desert Breeze Publishing

October 1, 2011

A gambler is cheating in a den of the Borealis space station, and Lieutenant Zara  Frankel intends to catch him in the act. She always gets her man, but this one could prove more than she can handle.

Captain Czerno Drake, code name Black Dragon, has come under cover to break his innocent uncle from the most secure penitentiary in the galaxy, on the Borealis space station. He will stop at nothing to succeed, even enrolling the help of the lovely straight arrow TPP enforcer. When Zara realizes that she's been used by a shrewd but seductive rebel, her reaction surprises everyone, most of all herself.

EXCERPT:

When she breezed through the doors of the crowded and noisy casino, Zara glided straight to the private area behind the row of tall greenery and searched the high stakes tables for her suspected cheater. The owner said he wore a tan and yellow outfit and flaunted a white fluffy Terran cat. An ostentatious luxury.

She easily spotted the caramel overcoat and the sleeping white fluff on the pink gambling table. From the back, as she walked toward the table, she studied the square shoulders stretching the expensive velvet, strong shoulders for a pleasure-seeking dandy. The gleaming dark hair tied at the nape with a yellow silk scarf denoted a rare degree of refinement for a human male, and as she neared him, the musky scent of his cologne made her best perfume seem cheap in comparison.

Just before she reached him, he turned around, rose from his chair, and smiled down at her. He stood taller than she expected, muscular, with strong thighs bulging under the caramel velvet pants tucked into soft brown boots.

"Captain Czerno Drake, of the Providence. Lucky Drake to the ladies." The deep baritone voice rumbled low, like a sexy promise. The regular planes of his face, the square jaw, high forehead, dark brow, and the sparkle in his deep topaz eyes under thick eyelashes screamed of perfect genes and high-born society.

         When he took her hand and kissed her fingers lightly, a frisson crossed her spine and her legs melted like chocolate in a solar flare. Despite the extraordinary refinement of his garb and manners, this man was alpha-male through and through, and as wild as they came. Eye candy in caramel velvet and yellow silk wrapping. All she could think about was unwrapping him, like a present at yuletide.

Find it and other titles by Vijaya Schartz at:

AMAZON VIJAYA - B&N Vijaya Nooks - All Romance eBooks

Find out more on Vijaya's website at:
http://www.vijayaschartz.com/

Thanks to Goddess Fish For Hosting Me The Blog Today

I'd like to thank GFPV for having me on their party blog today, and a special thanks to those who took the time to visit with me, Doreen McGettigan (doreenb8@verizon.net), Jen B (jepebATverizonDOTnet) and Na (Cambonified(at)yahoo(dot)com).

I promised to pick a winner to receive a copy of my ebook, Uncommon Bond, but because there were only three posters, I'm giving each one a copy of my book.

Congratulations to each of you. Check your inbox for a PDF of Uncommon Bond. I hope you enjoy the quick read, and please by all means, I look forward to hearing your comments.

Here's the link to the book trailer I created for Uncommon Bond. Please help spread the word about Vanessa Alexander Johnson and Uncommon Bond.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_8h_L3QiuU&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

The Writing Life of Author Vanessa Alexander Johnson

As a writer, I’m often asked various questions about my writing life, i.e., how do I come up with story ideas, where do I get my titles from, are my stories purely fictional or are they based on real life people, do I do character outlines or just write off the cuff, have I ever experienced writer’s block, and many people say they want to write a book and ask where do they start. Well, today, I’m going to try and answer those questions in hopes that they may help reduce the fear that many of these writing quirks for someone who’s contemplating putting pen to paper, or with today’s technologies, fingertips to keyboard.

Many people have frowned, looked at me sideways or backed away from me when I say my characters talk to me. But it’s true for me, as it is for many if not all writers. When a story idea comes to me, the main characters will begin having dialogue in my head. No, I’m not crazy, so don’t call the people at the nut farm yet (LOL) and believe me when I tell you, the characters don’t know anytime about time either. An idea can come to me during the day, but often times they begin their chatter when I’m in bed about to go to sleep, or in the middle of the night if I wake for a bathroom break.

When this has happened at those odd times, I’ve resisted the urge to run to my computer or grab pen and pad, telling myself that I’ll remember it in the morning. Most times, I do remember some of the information, but not exactly as it was transpiring inside my head when the idea was initially sparked.

Where do the ideas from my stories come from, you ask. The answer is it varies. My first novel, Sacrifices In The Name of Love was sparked from a conversation I had with my son while he was in college. The conversation centered around girl groupies waiting for athletes to get their autographs or whatever else the athletes wanted as they left the football field, even from the athletes who didn’t get any playing time, although the sport was changed to basketball in the book instead of football. My second novel, Uncommon Bond that was released on my birthday (07282011) was sparked from an incident similar to the one that Uncommon Bond is based on, although names have been changed and details embellished to make the story more intriguing. My next book, Tempted By Love is purely fictional and is based on two high school sweethearts who split due to an indiscretion, with one keeping a secret and all hell breaking loose at their 30-year class reunion. I love attending my class reunions and I’m always threatening some of my closest high school classmates that I’m going to put them in a book, and so I did..

I’ve ever experienced writer’s block, (Thank God!), but if you do, try doing what I do as I ponder what my next ‘conflict’ in the story will be. I move onto another story as I have many story ideas and incomplete works stored in a file on my computer that I may work on, or I may be inspired to write poetry as my muse might dictate. I don’t force my writing. If you find yourself bored or stuck, back away from the story until you are inspired to get back with this. There aren’t any time restrictions to complete a story unless you place them on yourself.

I don’t do character outlines when I begin to write a story. I write off the cuff and allow the characters to dictate the story, even the conflicts, and this practice hasn’t let me down yet. If I have one pet peeve in writing, it is doing rewrites. I hate doing them but I know they are a vital part of the writing process especially if you want to put your best work out.

When people say they have a story to write and ask where to start, I always say, “Start at the beginning and just write. Don’t worry about things being in the right order or spelling errors. Those things can be corrected later, just write when the must strikes. My first book, When Death Comes a Knockin’ started off as a 7-page article about my journey through the grief process after the loss of my mother and son 33 days apart. I just kept adding to it and the first seven pages were broken up into chapters and thus the end result.

Do I have a regular writing routine? No I don’t, although sometimes I wish I did. I write because I love to, not because I NEED it to sustain my way of life. I write when my writing muse dictates. If only one person ever reads what I write or I’m able to inspire just one person with my writing, I’m okay with that. With my writing I write to Entertain, Inspire and Encourage.

I hope I’ve been able to answer many questions for you or calm whatever fears that holding you back from starting your writing life. The main thing is for YOU believe in YOURSELF and YOUR WRITING.

Thanks for visiting. Have a blessed day.

**One lucky commenter will receive a copy of my latest ebook release, Uncommon Bond.** The winner will be announced on the blog on Sunday night (08072011 at 10 pm. Good Luck!**

Adult excerpt - Across a Crowded Room by Elizabeth Marchat

Across a Crowded Room
By: Elizabeth Marchat | Other books by Elizabeth Marchat | Notify me of Elizabeth Marchat's new releases Categories: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Romantic Suspense Word Count: 105,427 Heat Level: SIZZLING Published By: Siren-Bookstrand, Inc.  Erotic Contemporary Romantic Suspense After anti-terrorist agent Jason DesJardin survived the explosion that killed Emily Holmes’s father, he went deep undercover. Guilt and his dark past kept him from returning for her. When Emily discovers ties between the old bombing and the terrorists, she finagles an assignment to Jason’s next mission. The balance of world power drops into her inexperienced hands, and she is forced to play a dangerous game of seduction with Mosel Reinhardt, the notorious international arms dealer. Is Reinhardt peddling the nanotech chip technology, or are Emily’s instincts about him correct? The mission heats up when Jason finds he can’t resist Emily—agency computer genius gone femme fatale—any more than Mosel can. After years of waiting to have her again, the tables turn. Jason is unwilling to share her now, but will he be able to watch her seduce Mosel in order to find her father’s killer? Would she stop if he asked her? A Siren Erotic Romance		Across a Crowded Room Available in: HTML, Mobipocket, EPUB, Microsoft Reader, Adobe Acrobat Price: $6.99 Cover Art by Jinger Heaston ISBN: 1610345762 Trade Paperback $15.50
Opening...followed by two excerpts ELIZABETH MARCHAT Copyright © 2011 Chapter One Later in life, when Jason DesJardin recalled that fateful night, he noted it hadn’t been an ominous sort of night, not the kind that film directors like to portray in horror movies. It certainly hadn’t been the kind of night anyone would have expected to change the course of so many lives. Even the moonlight couldn’t be blamed for producing the silhouettes that had haunted the walls in the children’s room, creating imaginary monsters to initiate their nightmares. The real source of light was from a small bit escaping the upstairs hallway, sneaking warily through the crack beneath the door. Seeping in, penetrating the ebony space, turning black into shades of gray, it reflected off the ancient oak outside and cast back soft shadows on the walls. Jason hadn’t slept soundly back then...not while his foster father drank. Past... The man closed the door quickly behind him and became nothing more than a massive shape, a mere shade defined by a flash of light. The glow broke the smoky depths of the room and then dimmed to gray, allowing the stick figure shadows of the tree branches to resume their flickering limbo over the walls. As the man crept silently deeper into the room, Jason held his breath and waited. Beyond the piles of discarded clothes and other remnants of the day scattered around the waxed wooden floor, the man watched Cade and Harry as they slept soundly in their bunk beds. The brothers’ spindly bodies were still childishly fragile, defined by their delicate bone structure. Each had matching wheat-colored hair, sticking out at all angles from their round, freckled faces. So innocent as they slept. The man stilled, allowing his eyes to adjust to the low light, and then glanced over his shoulder to make sure Jason slept. With his eyes squinted shut and his frame sprawled across his bed, Jason engulfed the entire surface. His gangly limbs extended well beyond the mattress boundaries, and yet Jason didn’t sleep. He allowed his chest to rise and fall evenly, faking it. A few stray hairs from an unkempt lock fluttered across his forehead with each outward puff. When a whisper of sound tried to escape, fear kept him silent. The evidence of his full masculine potential lay dormant beneath the surface of his still soft features. Jason knew that what kept the monster at bay was how the harder planes of his body had already appeared, seemingly mere moments away from emerging. "Such a shame to lose all that softness." The man whispered. "Too old." He turned away from Jason and headed toward the younger boys. The real monster wasn’t under the bed—he was climbing into it. The branch figures danced innocently around the quiet room, muted ghosts unable to forewarn the approaching peril, but Jason could. STORY EXCERPT... Jason called to her. “Emily?” “Be right there. I’m ready,” she announced. She rounded the corner upstairs, and when she came into view, he couldn’t stop the response that escaped along with the rest of the air in his lungs. “I’ll say!” He could see she was definitely ready for something. She paused at the top of the stairs and glanced down at him. One of her hands flipped a stray curl back off her shoulder, and the other rested lightly on the old wooden banister. Emily was fully aware of the impact she made. He could tell from the glint in her eyes. But regrettably, he couldn’t focus on her face once she took the first step. She looked incredible, and he felt gut punched. The multi-colored flowered skirt was too short. It looked even more so from his vantage point. Strategically situated at the bottom of the stairs, Jason wished he could be sorrier about the view. But in the deepest recesses of his mind, the only feelings he could drag to the surface were pleasure, pleasure, and more pleasure. He’d just caught a glimpse of heaven, and poking his eyes out now wouldn’t be enough to erase the image of a sliver of black lace that was now branded in his memory. He quickly tried to blind himself from the sight, but wasn’t fast enough. His gaze dropped, and he locked on the image. The only thing he could do was turn away. Instead of soothing the impact, the image reflected repeatedly in the mirrored foyer. She was everywhere, taunting him. His mouth went powder dry. It took every bit of self-control to force his eyes shut and turn back to her and focus on her eyes. After the day’s events, he felt like a lab rat. She was the motivation, and he kept responding. He couldn’t seem to stop his reactions, no matter how much he tried, and just like any good lab rat, he didn’t care. All he wanted was the reward at the end of the experiment. She is that reward, all right. She smiled that womanly, all-knowing smile with a casual glance directed boldly at his fly. His body jerked to attention as she took that first step, giving him an even better view with her knee bent. An uncontrolled groan escaped as his body reacted. Was she aware of the power she wielded? Damn right, she was. It was maddening to be at her mercy like this. In a few minutes they’d be with the whole family. How was he going to manage any self-control under the circumstances? With each step she took toward him, his anxiety increased. God, what was wrong with him? He was very worried. She was initiating a full-out assault on his senses, and his control was diminishing as the day wore on. He winced. This was going to be a long night. There was no point trying to hide his response from her. Since she walked in the door earlier this afternoon, he’d managed to sport a chronic erection. He was past being embarrassed by his dick. Trying to recover some ground, reclaim some of his masculine pride, he dragged his gaze back to her face and forced himself to stare directly at her. Making sure to hold her attention as she descended the rest of the steps, he boldly reached down and adjusted himself. She flushed. Score one for the boys. Jason felt triumphant, felt a smile start, until she looked directly at his face. He had to rethink his success. Her blush was intoxicating. Her tongue flicked over her parted lips, her hand dropped to her blue diamond pendant, and she inhaled, drawing his attention to nipples alluringly visible through the thin material of her top. No bra? He swallowed. He readjusted. This time her expression widened a little in response. A small smile tempted the corner of her lips, but she contained herself. She seemed pleased instead of shocked. Rats, no ground gained for the men’s side. Maybe he’d been too quick to claim victory. When she reached the bottom step, he moved toward her, taking her coat from her. He had an urge to wrap her up in a useless attempt to cover her. Maybe if her body was concealed, he could put this hunger aside. His hand lingered, refusing to be controlled as it slowly slid down her arm, taking in the silkiness of her skin. Caught in his own trap, a little voice in his head laughed as he draped her coat over her shoulders. He knew it wouldn’t help. It was too late for him. He sniffed her hair one last time before they headed out the door. He could cover her up all he wanted. He’d still be thinking of the contrast between that scrap of black lace against her pale pearl skin all night. ADULT EXCERPT He glanced around. The street was empty. As concerned as he was about their public display, he didn’t stop mauling her in the middle of the street where she lived. Jason watched the mist from her hot breath rise with her smile. He tried to smile back, uncertain of his success as she stared hungrily at his mouth. He thought about devouring her right here, right now, damn the neighbors, but she grabbed his hand and dragged him up to the door of the old Victorian house. Slipping his hands inside her coat, he undid her bra and pushed it up, giving his hands and lips full access to her breasts. He could hear her struggling to catch her breath as he bent in to nuzzle her nape while skimming his hands down her sides and over her hips. That short skirt ended up around her waist, and his fingers came into contact with hot velvet skin as he cupped her tight ass in his hands. That scrap of black lace he’d moaned about earlier would be no barrier when pushed aside, better yet, when he tore it off her. He wasn’t the only one desperate for skin to skin contact. Emily tore off a couple of his shirt buttons accessing his chest, and her fingers scraped over his nipples, driving him to distraction. He suddenly realized she had his fly open and her hand wrapped around his throbbing cock before the door completely closed behind them. As fantastic as her grip felt, he grabbed and took both of her hands in his, inhaled, and lifted her fingertips to his lips. They had to slow down, or he was afraid he’d lose control, and he hadn’t let that happen in a very, very long time. Damn, what made him so crazy with her, so crazy he couldn’t wait? After this afternoon, the hard-on he’d been sporting hadn’t subsided for more than a few minutes at a time. He’d already waited too long. He was ready to explode. Her hair wrapped around him and her scent enveloped him. He was lost. She pulled her hands free and grabbed his hips, pulling them toward her as she fell to the steps. His knees hit the bottom step, and he had her back against the railing, legs open, spread-eagled. He was on fire, blinded with passion, intoxicated with her. Patience escaped with his good sense. He shouldn’t take her there on the steps. Even though he didn’t want to stop, thoughts tried to sneak through the red haze. “Stop thinking,” she said. She was right. He’d been thinking too much, for too many years, and now all he wanted was the sensation of burying himself deep inside her, of finally being immersed inside her soft, tight heat. Merging their bodies as one. Instead, he paused at her entry, still kissing her senseless. He waited until he was physically capable of dragging them up to the first landing, hoping he could manage the rest of the stairs and get them into the bedroom before every ounce of self control left him. But the landing was as far as he got before she moaned. “Please, here, now.” He couldn’t resist her. The need to brand her with the fire burning in him and make her his was too great. More than anything, he wanted to plunge into her without thinking and damn the consequences. He took another deep breath, still paused at her entrance despite his desire. The crown of his cock surged against her warm, moist opening, fighting back at him with independent intentions. Emily lifted to him and arched, as if inviting him to push in past her hot, slippery folds, a silent request to take her deeper. The initial shock, the sensation of having him penetrate her, knocked the breath from her. Her gasp emptied into his mouth as he leaned in and kissed her. Obviously she wasn’t very experienced, but no matter what pace she wanted to set, he knew he had to prepare her to take all of him. He paused again to give her time to adjust, deliberately slowing his entry as she stiffened slightly. “Oh, Emily, you feel so good, so damned tight.” Gradually, Jason stretched past her tight opening, inch by painful inch, despite thinking he’d have to push into her fast and hard or die holding back. Somehow he forced himself to take her slowly, prepare her more for his size, make their first time together last. However, her body and her moans goaded him on. She pressed against him, whimpering needy sounds, and her nails dug into his hips, her legs embracing his thighs. Then, just as he was ready to press further inside, he met an obstacle. He paused. Damn! Suddenly cold with the realization, stark reality returned in a heartbeat. Unbelieving, Jason stopped breathing for a moment, shocked at the barrier of her virginity. He stared into Emily’s eyes, not really looking for answers, but the expression on her face told him everything. “Don’t think. Don’t stop,” she said as he held himself back. A flare of pure determination lit up her expression, warning him. She wasn’t letting him off this time. As he held his ground, her next move really didn’t surprise him. She did the only thing left to her when she impaled herself against him. Stifling a scream, she forfeited her own innocence and stared deep into Jason’s eyes in defiance. With the deed done, neither of them moved. Mine.