Superhero Envy

Does Buffy the Vampire Slayer count as a super hero? *LOL* If I can't be Buffy (the TV version, of course) then I think I'd like to be Supergirl. Simply because I want to be able to type super fast so I can write faster. *LOL*

Yeah, dumb, I know. I'm a Taurus, I have no inertia and I love staying home. My real life holds plenty of excitement and interest for me, thank you very much. I don't need to add crime fighting or world saving to the mix. *LOL*

I'll admit growing up I used to love watching Ultra Man, remember that show? It was a cheesy Japanese import, with the whole styrofoam city sets the huge monsters would go kicking through a la Godzilla while Ultra Man worked to kick their bad asses. And the hero was this ordinary guy with a secret. Bionic Woman was cool, but I don't want to jump out of an airplane and go splat and undergo operations and become a government agent to get those kind of powers. That would suck. Does anyone remember the old radio serials: "What evil lurks within the heart of man...the Shadow knows!" That was a cool show. (No, I'm not that old, XM-Radio and CDs, duh.)

Underdog. The original cartoon, not the cheesy remake. *le sigh* I loved Underdog. And the old Lone Ranger shows. I loved the horses.

I know, I'm so lame. That's why I write about incredibly cool vampires! :)

Lesli Richardson is the author of "Love and Brimstone" available from Amira Press.
http://www.leslirichardson.com
http://myspace.com/madmumbler
http://leslirichardson.blogspot.com

I Want To Be A Superhero

Authors wear a tons of diffent hats in our daily lives. From mothers, wives, nurses, insurance agants and so much more. We have to schedule our writing around our every day lives and most of the time there does not seem to be enough hours in a day to get everything done.

Wouldn't it be great to have super powers, like the speed of Flash Gordon or the strength of Super Girl?

So Amira Press authors, what superhero would you be and why?

Plotting Pants

My writing style probably would not work for too many writers. I tend to "see" my story as a movie in my head, then I transcribe that into my computer. This means if I "see" the ending first, I write it. I bounce around in the manuscript as I see the sections, and when I get to the rough draft stage that's when I smooth things over, add any filler scenes needed, etc.

This used to be very time-consuming when I was doing my initial "pre-draft" in a word processing program. Because bouncing back and forth like that was very tricky, time (hours, seriously) wasted looking for where I wanted to insert that particular scene, or cutting/pasting scenes into the correct order.

I now use SuperNotecard to compose my "pre-draft" version, and it's great because I can see my entire story laid out in front of me. If I get an idea, I can create a card, title it and maybe jot down some notes and slide it into the story. I can write whatever scene I need to write and not worry about wasting time figuring out where it goes. I can split and move and juggle the story as I need to. With multi-book series like the "Love and Brimstone" world, I create separate "decks" of cards, one deck for each book, plus I keep loose cards on the main project level for notes, tidbits I might want to use later, etc.

I don't think I've ever written a story start to finish, meaning "In the beginning..." until "The End." I write all over the place, bouncing around. I juggle multiple projects at once so if I ever get stuck I simply switch projects until I'm unstuck. This totally avoids serious writers block on my part.

So while I don't "outline" a project per se, I do usually have a road map of sorts. It's not uncommon for me to change/add stuff mid-stream either. I follow my characters and the story. I don't say, "Okay, this will be the story," and pigeon hole my characters into it.

A good example is that in, "Love and Brimstone," Rafael was supposed to be a character who walked on and walked off, literally for just a few scenes. But that's not what happened. (You'll just have to read all the books to find out more. *LOL*) Also, I'd only planned on setting one scene in Yellowstone, yet what happened was that half the book took place there.

Writers must be willing to follow the characters as well as the story. It might not be the same story they'd planned, but it most likely will be a "truer" story and certainly a better one.

Lesli Richardson.
author of "Love and Brimstone" from Amira Press
http://leslirichardson.blogspot.com
http://myspace.com/madmumbler

Panster/Planner/Madhatter...

My writing method depends on two things: My Muse and My Time Constraints. For the most part, I'm a panster. I love to sit and type as fast as I possibly can in order to keep up with the most powerful muse in my head at the time. For non-writers this might not make a whole lot of sense, but I have characters living in my head. I call them muses so people won't think I'm crazy. Secretly, all fiction authors are crazy. We have to be. Sh. Don't tell. It'll be our little secret.

So, here's how it works. The muses line up at the imaginary door to the office in my head. Some are very polite. They take a number from the red ticket dispenser, and they wait and wait like a good little muse. Others, well, let's just say they cheat. They cut in line. They beat up the other muses. They yell and scream and have tantrums. They steal numbers to get ahead. They even sometimes kill the muses in front of them to get closer to me. Those ones scare me. In fact, I have one right now that only wants to talk to me when I'm angry. I'm a patient person. She doesn't get out much. Thank goodness. Plus, I'm terribly afraid readers won't like her.

What I'm trying to say is, the muse who makes the most noise gets ahead and gets his or her story told no matter how long the others have been waiting. The muses who push and fight their way to the front are more interesting to readers anyways.

I'm a panster. I confess. I enjoy writing best when I can write what pops into my head.

I do, however, utilize outlines when I write longer works. Outlines help me remember key pieces of plot and details that I might otherwise forget if time constraints keep me away from the story for more than a few days. There have been times when the weirdest things happen. For instance, when I wrote Oikoni Stone, I was able to sit one morning and write the first sentence for the next fiften chapters of that book. Creepy. I like to play with point of views and often try to write chapters in a shifting pattern. I'll outline whose POV I want to write in and what major thing I want to accomplish in that chapter. There is an erotica novella I wrote that covered the five senses, so I wrote the chapter name out first so I knew what sense to explore. It makes my path easier to follow. I've written backwards, drafting the final chapter so I have a target to aim at.


Another thing I do, since I design cover art, is I scope out images and become inspired by them. For Goblin's Bride, I found the image of the woman on the cover and played the what if game. I was in the mood to write fantasy, and that quirky tale was born. One of my favorites too. The fantasy door behind her was an image I had found months prior that I fell in love with but couldn't use for anything until I found the bride.

I try to write daily. Not always on the same story as I often have several going at once, but typing them out on a regular basis keeps me in touch with my characters. I'm a firm believer in the old quote: "If you want to be a writer, write." I write literally in every spare moment. I carry a notebook in my purse for stray ideas or bits of dialogue that pop into my head. I never know when the pushy muses will speak...

Anastasia Rabiyah
RabiyahBooks.com

(Image © Madartists | Dreamstime.com)

Panster or Planner

Panster or planner?

I'm a bit of both. I also do things a little backwards. I imagine most authors write their story then their synopsis--at least most organized and professional writers I know. But, once I get my story idea and it's had a little time to simmer in my brain (do you think that may be the cause of my memory loss--an overcooked brain? ha ha), I like to go ahead and write the synopsis. I hate writing it when I'm finished because I try to cram too much into it. So it's a good way to make it simple and also get it out of my way. The synopsis helps me organize my story and figure out what the characters want and how they plan on getting it.

Of course, there are times when an epiphany moment comes along that changes or adds to my story. No problem. I just tuck it into the synopsis and tweak it up a bit. Once I think I have the story theme and a sort of idea of how the story will unfold, I start writing. If I get stuck on something, I brainstorm with another author or put it out to my critique group.

There are days when the writing goes easy and I can let my characters lead me on. But when things begin to falter, I return to my synopsis like a map to show me the way.

So there it is. I plan some, plot some and just move the way the story takes me sometimes.

Sarah McNeal

Author of THE VIOLIN

www.sarahmcneal.com

What Kind of Writer Are you?

As authors our books start out in our imagination. It can be characters waking us from our sleep insistently telling us thier story must be told. Or we could be in the shower and that "aha!" moment happens and we rush out with soapy bodies to write down out new idea before its lost in the infinity of new ideas we have. But happens after that initial thought that sets us on the road to a new manuscript? Are you a panster who lets the story weave its self and you write? Or are you a plotter who sits down and works out each step that you story must take before you actually write?

9/15/2008 STILL COMING DOWN FROM THE
MAUI WRITER’S CONFERENCE EXPERIENCE!
(Now held on Oahu)
The best part about the conference was the contacts I made and the deepened friendships. The level of the conference this year put a lot of emphasis on finishing “that book.” The speakers stressed: never give up.

For those of us, who have no problem finishing our books, we still discovered some jewel in each lecture.

This year editors and agents were hot for transformational books or message books with an inspirational message that will change lives. The theory: the reader isn’t the only one and they too can survive and come out on the other side whole.

When you give writing lectures, tie them to the book you are promoting (of course.)
Speakers highlighted how important endorsements from the famous are. For the most part, only the publishers who pay the big bucks can get up-front placement of their authors’ books in the stores.

Covers were discussed at length and the publisher speaking said in their house they went back and forth maybe 75 times to get them right. That sounds like a lot, so maybe it depends on the publisher.

Each night I went home from the conference and worked with Anastasia on my new cover for COWBOY LIES. We went back and forth some, maybe ten times. Maybe less.
Go look at Anastasia’s creation on Coming Releases at the Amira site. She did us proud.

After the conference, most of us went back to our offices, castles, ranches or whatever and sent out our queries and/or chapters to participating editors while we tried to come down from revved-up emotional highs. But that was just the beginning. Our dream is so big that we toss more balls in the air and start the research for our next book. Dream Big and Never Give up. Aloha, Lynde

Love and Lust

What do you think makes the perfect lovemaking encounter between hero and heroine that would capture the readers attention?

I don't just toss characters in bed. In fact, it's not uncommon for my characters to take half a book before they finally find their way between the sheets, especially if they've just met or if there are other issues/conflicts involved. I write "real" characters in terms of personality, and I think like real life the sex needs to be real. Many women don't climax during intercourse without a little *ahem* help. I hate reading a book where the woman jumps in bed with the guy, he does his thing, and in five minutes she's screaming his name as the hugest O she ever has hits her without him doing very much other than being present.

Uh-uh. That's not real life.

I also think some sex is steamy, some is sweet, some is quiet and gentle. When I write a love scene, it's set in the context of the "world" I'm writing about and what's going on at that time. They don't have a HUGE screaming fight and then the sweetest sex they ever experienced. Etc. I think a lot of sexual tension is key throughout the book, the characters have to be hooked into each other, and the reader needs to be hooked into them as well.

How do you convey the emotions behind the act and make it as realistic as possible for the readers?

I write realistically in the context of the world I'm writing about. If the hero isn't much of a talker and keeps his heart and emotions deeply buried, unless something's happened to change that, he's not going to sweet talk her non-stop throughout the scene. Likewise, if the heroine is a very straight-laced girl, unless something's happened to her, she won't be doing a strip tease on a bar for the hero. Etc. I think sometimes the best love scenes are the ones you can get into and read and when you finish reading them you think, wow! Nothing jarring happens that pulls you out of the narrative flow or stops you in your tracks and makes you think, "They wouldn't do THAT!" If I think about a love scene and MY knees get weak when I'm writing it, I have a feeling it's probably a good one!

In your opinion what takes writing a love scene from sensual, romantic or even erotic into the realms of writing pornography and how do you keep from crossing that fine line?

Well, see, that's a problem. One person's passion is another person's porn. I think if you show the loving relationship between two people (or at least set up a plausible reason for two strangers to be in bed together) and you aren't gratuitous, then you really have to write for the characters and the story, not for the audience. I'm not talking about the obvious taboos like incest, beastiality, etc. Those are obvious off-the-table topics, just flat-out off-limits, duh (not to mention, ewww!).

But two characters in one story might be very sedate, calm people, and two characters in another story might dang near bring the house down around their ears swinging from the ceiling fan. As long as the sedate characters are true to themselves and the story, and the "swingers" (haha) are true to themselves and their story, all is well. Let's face it, if someone is looking for a romance story and they have a problem with sex, they shouldn't be buying a sensual love story, they should stick to "sweet" or inspirational romances.

Lesli Richardson is the author of "Love and Brimstone," available for sale from Amira Press.
http://leslirichardson.blogspot.com
http://myspace.com/madmumbler

Love, Lust, and Sex.

I tend to write on the dark side, even in my contempoarary works. My characters usually have something wrong with them, and they need to find that one special partner who fills the empty void they have in their soul. Sounds deep, but I believe relationships are like that. If we didn't need a void filled, we'd all live out our lives alone and be perfectly happy. I need someone who is my opposite in every way, a man who keeps my head from flying too far up into the clouds. My husband needs someone to make him smile and shake his head. It works out. For my characters, there needs to be the three basic ingredients to get things going on: love, lust, and sex. Not always in that order!

"What do you think makes the perfect lovemaking encounter between hero and heroine that would capture the readers attention?" I think perfection is a myth. I love reality in my sex scenes. Face it, sex is awkward and kind of funny at times. Clothes don't gracefully slip away. Not everything fits right the first time, and then, there's the whole navigation of the other person's body.

A hot lovemaking scene involves lust. It has that animalistic drive to completion, but I also like the sweet ones where two characters take paragraphs to get each other off. A loving, gentle sex scene can be just as satisfying as a wild romp in an unexpected place. No matter what, the scene needs to suit the characters and their motivations.

"How do you convey the emotions behind the act and make it as realistic as possible for the readers?" I get into character. I've written sex scenes from both male and female POVs. What would he or she be thinking, feeling, worrying about? Would there be talking? Giggles? Screams? Moans? Writing a sex scene is like any other scene in a story. Be in the moment with the characters and try to convey the setting using all five senses to the fullest.

"In your opinion what takes writing a love scene from sensual, romantic or even erotic into the realms of writing pornography and how do you keep from crossing that fine line?" The line is not that fine. Porn has its place. I'm not against it. Romance in all its forms seeks to meld lust and love with the act of sex. Porn may loosely show that, or it may not, but it's ultimate goal in not to engage the psyche. Porn seeks to titilate and arouse--that's it. There's no "aha" moment after watching porn. A true romance, sweet to erotic, will have heavy plotting, a dilemma or issue that needs to be resolved, and dynamic characters that a reader wants to spend time with everywhere, not just in the bedroom.

There is also erotica that seeks to explore character growth through sex. It has its place as well. The focus is on the sex more than on the romance, and that can be satisfying and fullfilling for the character. It can be exactly what a character needs to grow and change.

Stop by my site and delve into romance and erotic romance if you dare to step into the darkness...

Anastasia Rabiyah
RabiyahBooks.com

Bring On the Fiery Sex!

My two loves in writing are romance and fantasy, and all that comes under this umbrella. So, when I write a story, I’m building that world in my mind with the alien creatures, the different worlds, and challenges. And then, I’m looking for two people often from opposite backgrounds to bring together. Often in real life, people don’t fall in love right away. They may be physically attracted to one another. In the twenty-first century, people aren’t waiting to be married to have that connection. Shoot, in my personal experience (not recently *groan*) I barely knew a guy’s name before you know... Haha.

That is the part I like to write about, the wild, hungry sexual attraction. It doesn’t happen on page one or two, or even chapters one or two. It happens quickly, because it happens fast in real life also (not in every case). That’s why the writing spectrum is so vast, because real life is.

So my characters aren’t necessarily—probably aren’t—in love with one another before they get horizontal. They tend to be scratching an itch that no one has scratched in too long. That’s real life. In my third Accidental Mates novella, Ladon has lost the woman he loves and is bitter and hurt. He hates everyone. Tiam feels that her people turned their backs on her. She’s on an alien planet hiding out among humans. So when these two come together, they’re not looking for love. They’ve been hurt by love. They just want the physical act. Or so they think. It develops into love with their further circumstances.

For me and my writing, I like to hotten it up. It gets me turned on as well. But I also like the fantasy element and the romance. I bundle them together. So you’ll find in my sex scenes both the raw passion, the lust, and the sensual loving, the emotions. I think that’s what separates erotic writing from pornography. For me, the line isn’t thin at all.

- Brenda Steele, Erotic Fantasy

www.freewebs.com/brendasteele

Sensual Writing

As Romance Authors or stories can be anywhere from Sensual to Erotic.

I fall into the category of sensual and actually more sweet. I'm totally with giving readers a bit of spice and then letting them fill in their own blanks. I think if you take them down the path to a sensual interlude it engages the imagination much more than putting out every little detail of what happens to a pair (or more) of characters.

But what about the sex scenes?What do you think makes the perfect lovemaking encounter between hero and heroine that would capture the readers attention?

I think erotica cuts to the chase way too soon--too often it seems like the goal is to see how many sex scenes can be written into a short span of pages with a minimal story line for the sole purpose of getting to the next sex scene. I've seen too many erotic novellas where there is no character development, no connection to the characters -- most aren't anyone I'd want to be or anyone I'd want to be with. There is no build up, no tension, just sex. Now "just sex" is fine. It's okay...but when I read I read to escape and I want to think there's an amazing happily ever after out there for me. Erotica doesn't do that for me -- hot sex with a lot of passion, emotion and true connections between the characters is much more fulfilling for me

How do you convey the emotions behind the act and make it as realistic as possible for the readers?

I try to do this with a look in a character's eyes, the scents in the air--for me I find evening jasmine to be highly evokative and sensually stimulating. I know what my hands feel like when I'm waiting as patiently as I can to get my guy into a position to grab his butt -- not a public display but something that's just between us that is a prelude to what will come later. A momentary holding of breath, acute sound, a heartbeat that is felt and heard. Making love isn't just a physical act -- it is an array of senses and emotions that encompass every aspect of our body before, during and in the after glow.

In your opinion what takes writing a love scene from sensual, romantic or even erotic into the realms of writing pronography and how do you keep from corssing that fine line? Sensual and romance are, for me, a combination of all our senses -- sight, sound, scent, touch, taste coupled with an emotional connection between two people that lasts beyond the interlude between the sheets. Pornography is when it's just sex for the sake of sex.

To Write Or Not To Write Sex Scenes

I believe authors write books with the intention of drawing in a particular reader and, of course, for the enjoyment of putting words to paper. It's a matter of personal taste and what market the author is intending to attract. Erotica certainly sells. There is no doubt about it. If an author has a particular talent for writing erotica, well that's splendid. I would never judge another author's desire for attracting a specific audience, especially if it's lucrative.

I have no inclination toward writing erotica. Just me. Just my thing. Steamy I can do and I enjoy writing it if it fits the temperament of the story. The sex-o-meter goes up if I'm writing a dark fantasy because it suits the atmosphere of the story and its sinister motif. I can't exactly write about evil characters and then have them act out a polite, sweet, sex scene. No ma'am, that would not suit the theme of the story. But, in time travel romance or historical novels, I take another view. I like my characters to grow in their desire for one another. They must take their time to know each other and they must fall in love before they get into the fogged up windows twisted sheets of an all out sex scene.

I like a the tension that builds in a story long before sex takes place. By the time the characters do hop into bed, the reader should be longing for that scene to take place as much as the hero and heroine do. It's the build up of emotion and plot that should lead to that bedroom.

Sarah J. McNeal

www.sarahmcneal.com

The Sex Talk

I never thought I would ever write a book that was erotica. I never came accross my mind but since I've done it, I'm very glad because I learned something about myself. It is a turn on lol. Well, I should say my husband loved it lol.

With the sex scenes, I try to picture the act going on in my mind as I do everything else with my writing. These scenes on the other hand are more difficult due to the eractic nature but its also more pleasurable at the same time because there's always relief coming soon lol.

Stolen Identity was my first book so I really haven't found the line between erotic and pornography yet. I think the difference lies in how we describe the intense scenes. When a writer begins adding different angles to the scene and adds other elements to the scene that doesn't really need to be there, it makes it more "movie" like to me. As for a good sex scene, I think when the characters really open up to each other and they let themselves go for the heat of passion, anything goes making it more intense and wild. Of course, add the heavy breathing and lots of sweat to that scene toward the end. Wow, I'm heated up just thinking about that lol. Time to go work on another book lol. Cool myself off a little so I can handle that scene lol.

Amber Rigby Grosjean
http://www.argrosjean.com

Lets Talk About Sex

Ah you guys knew this question was coming eventually :)

As Romance Authors or stories can be anywhere from Sensuual to Erotic. We know our characters will meet, face some rough patches togethher to help them build towards a relationship. But what about the sex scenes?

What do you think makes the perfect lovemaking encounter between hero and heroine that would capture the readers attention?

How do you convey the emotions behind the act and make it as realistic as possible for the readers?

In your opinion what takes writing a love scene from sensual, romantic or even erotic into the realms of writing pronography and how do you keep from corssing that fine line?

Excerpt: Redemption

Coming soon from Amira Press!

On the run from a murderous uncle, Katie married outlaw Ben Cready the day before he was supposed to hang. They shared one night of explosive passion and for six months, she'd believed herself a widow. Now Ben is back to claim what's his, and that includes the sweet bride he'd never been able to forget.

Here's a wee steamy peek:

“I’m home.”

The jar Katie had been wiping slipped out of her hand and bounced off the walnut counter before shattering on the floor. She took a quick step back, a startled scream in her throat which escaped when she came up against the body behind her.

Strong hands came around her and moved her out of the way of the shards of glass. The hands stayed on her waist as he bent his head to survey the damage.

“Best clean that up.” He scanned the kitchen and Katie noted distantly that he must be searching for the broom.

“How…what…?” she stammered as she turned away from those cold grey eyes she’d known for but one afternoon. She pulled the broom out from the tiny closet and held on to it, half debating whether to swat at him and see if he’d vanish into vapour because for certain sure he could not be real.

He’d been on his way to the gallows the last time she’d seen him.

That had been why she’d married him in the first place.

“Irony’s a son of a bitch, darlin’,” he swore and his small mouth quirked up in what Katie guessed would have been a smile…if she ever imagined this man smiling.

He towered over her at nearly six feet and his brown hair was in dire need of a cut and wash, sticking out from under his hat dusty and uneven, as if he’d tried to cut it himself once.

Her fingers twitched at her sides and she had to fist her hands to resist the urge to touch his hair.

She almost scolded him for swearing but realized how ridiculous that sounded, to scold him in his own house.

That had been why he had married her in the first place.

He sniffed the air around her briefly, moving his gaze to the fireplace. “Somethin’ smells good. That dinner?” He turned towards the pot over the fire. He bent down and took a long deep breath, inhaling the aroma and Katie could only guess how hungry he must be.

“Uh…Mister-“

He turned back to her, and again, there was that cold half-almost smile. “I believe the last time we talked I asked you to call me Ben.”

Katie’s cheeks flushed at the reminder that the last time he’d made the request, he’d been inside of her.

“Got a plate?” Ben asked holding out his arm towards her.

Katie quickly went into action, getting him a plate and a spoon, glad for the momentary distraction. She passed him the plate and he took it from her, holding his end as she held hers and staring up at her.

She’d been wrong. His eyes weren’t just cold, they looked sad as well, and tired, very tired. She gave him a weak smile of sympathy.

He broke their locked gaze first and filled his plate.

“I suppose you got questions. Let me eat first. Then I’ll answer the ones I can.” He took a seat at the table, stopping for a moment to notice the clean white table cloth and the vase of fresh daisies in the center of the table.

They certainly hadn’t been there when she’d first arrived, Katie remembered. She’d done her best to make his house a home. Her home. She nodded at him. They sat in silence for a few minutes and he was more than half way finished the stew when it occurred to her she’d forgotten to give him some bread. It seemed foolish to mention it now so Katie simply sat and watched him finish. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he enjoyed it but his eager devouring of the meal seemed to do that for him.

Though she couldn’t say how long it’d been since he may have had a meal so his eagerness had probably more to do with hunger than her culinary skill.

She’d forgotten to set a drink next to him as well. God, she felt positively stupid. Katie jumped out of her seat and she saw his whole body tense and one hand dart under the table. She curiously walked to his side of the table and tilted her head down so she could see what he’d reached for, though she’d had a pretty good guess.

Still, seeing the gun holstered around his thigh sent an icy ball of fear up into her throat.

“Take it off.”

They both blinked at the same time. Katie hadn’t meant to voice her displeasure out loud. She met his gaze, nervously.
What right did she have, really? He was back now, surely he would be reclaiming his home and she would be…out.

“No,” he said simply. “Go do what you were gonna do.”

She bit her lip. His simple refusal chafed at her. It must have shown on her face because when she poured the milk in a cup for him and had a brief mental image of dumping it on his head, he gave her that half smile again.

“You’d be shit at poker, honey.”

She set the cup down next to his plate. “My name is Katherine.”

He looked up at her. “I remember.”

Excerpt: "Love and Brimstone"

This is an excerpt from my Amira Press release, "Love and Brimstone."

---
"What kind of asshole sells automatic weapons to a demon anyway?" Rafael dropped the tote bag on his cousin's desk and plopped down in one of the chairs facing him.

"Is that it?"

Rafael nodded. "We need to speed this up. I've got a date at seven." He leaned back and propped his feet on the desk, crossing them at the ankles.

"You always have a date." Matthias unzipped the tote and removed a sealed plastic bag containing a large severed head. Semi-lupine in shape, vicious teeth jutted from the lower jaw. "Any problems?"

"Naw, customs was easy. Homeland Security, my ass. And one less 'Chupacabra' to terrify the locals." Rafael used finger quotes around the word to show his disdain. "Friggin’ jerk. He had a whole warehouse full of guns. Oh, Matts, you should have seen the stewardess on the plane."

"I thought you were going to take the corporate jet from Mexico City?" Matthias had left Rafael behind to finish the clean-up operation.

He shook his head. "Met this cute little co-ed from a cruise ship in Veracruz. You should've seen her."

"I'm sure." Matthias rolled his eyes and put the severed head back in the bag. "And your date tonight?"

Rafe shrugged. "I can't help it if the customs agent was a cutie."

"What did she see in your bag?"

"Bowling ball." Rafael’s playful smile and brilliant blue eyes had yet to fail him.

Matthias shook his head and laughed as he sat. "I'll have Albert send it to the lab for testing and an ID work-up. It bothers me that one of them was hooking up with a demon."

"Bothers you?" Rafe flexed his left arm. "Screw that, you aren't the one who got shot, big guy."

"How is it?"

"I've been better, but it's nearly healed. Still stiff." He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt to show the pink scar where the slug had entered his shoulder two days prior. "What the hell did you eat anyway? You tasted—no offense, cuz—weird."

"No weirder than the time I got sliced open in Dublin and you'd been out drinking that afternoon. I had a hangover for three damn days, thanks to you."

Rafe grinned. "Ah, but you were alive to suffer."

Matthias smiled. "And so are you. I told you we shouldn't have eaten at that place for lunch. You insisted."
"Oh, yeah." He looked at Matthias' desk and sat up. "What's that?" He pointed to a picture.

Matthias slid it across the desk. Rafe picked it up, a low whistle escaping him. "Wow," he said, his voice dropping. "That's her?"

Matthias sat back and templed his fingers. "That's her."

Rafe studied the picture for a long moment. "I know you said…but she's…wow."

Matthias took the picture back. "Now you understand."

Rafael looked stunned. "Yeah. Congratulations."

"That's a little premature. We haven't even brought her in yet."

"When?"

He shrugged. "When Tim tells me the time is right. I've waited this many years for her, I can wait a little longer. Maybe next month. And even then, who knows? There's no guarantee."

Rafe studied his hands, his face a mask. "On second thought, maybe I'll fly home tonight. Take the corporate jet back to Atlanta."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I am pretty tired."

Matthias studied him for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and kind. "Rafe, she's been dead—"

Rafe held up a hand and smiled. "Don't want to go there tonight, Matts. Sorry. I don't feel like revisiting the past. You dealt with Sarah in your way, I'll deal with my shit in mine, okay?"

Matthias nodded. "All right." He stepped around the desk and hugged his cousin. "See you this weekend at the Florida house?"

Rafe nodded, patting him on the back before stepping away. "Yeah, I'll be down. You're going to drive me to the dealership, right?"

"It's in?"

Rafael's face erupted into a huge grin. "You should see it! The salesman emailed me a picture. It's a sweet ride. I test drove one like it last month, but they didn't have the color I wanted."

"I'll take your word for it. I prefer the original Mustangs myself."

"It's a Shelby Mustang GT500, the most powerful production model Mustang ever; it's not 'just' a Mustang, Matts." He stepped to the door, his face clouding again. "I'll see you later then."

Matthias nodded and watched Rafe leave.

When he was alone again he returned to his desk and stared at her picture. He'd never shown it to Rafael before and wasn't sure why he had tonight. He sighed and returned it to his desk.

Ten long years. It wouldn't kill him to wait a few weeks longer.

---
Lesli Richardson
"Love and Brimstone" from Amira Press
Visit the Brimstone Series blog for pictures and more excerpts: http://brimstoneseries.blogspot.com

Unedited Excerpt - Tempting a Wolf

For two years, she had watched him. Her sister’s boss. He stopped by the house periodically to ostensibly to pick up papers Renee had been working on, but Tameca had her own theories about why a man so fine, so—made for a woman to bow in submission at his feet—would bother coming to his employee and not the other way around.

Tameca often blocked out the fact that he might want Renee and chose any excuse to see her more often than three days a week, her work schedule. And what man wouldn’t want Renee?

She sighed with her cheek pressed at the corner of the wall between the hallway and the living room of their tiny home. While Renee tilted her head to discuss something found on one the sheets of paper, her long sheet of perfect hair fell forward over her shoulder. The sunlight caught it just right. Marcus would be a fool not to notice that and everything else about her older sibling.

Tameca tugged at her unruly hair. On any given day, if it wasn’t frizzy, it was limp. Today was a frizz day. She reached up, not taking her eyes off Marcus, to smooth it down with both hands. The movement brought her attention to her breasts. Too big. She groaned in frustration.

To her shame, the sound caught Marcus’ attention. He gave a slow sexy grin that set her body on fire. He turned in Tameca’s direction. “Well, hello, Tami.”

Her heart threatened to stop at both his nickname for her and the timbre of his voice—deep and seductive.

“Leave her alone, Marcus,” Renee warned.

He ignored her sister and strolled over to tower above Tameca. The top of her head came to his nose. He was the perfect height at six feet, just tall enough, but not too tall.

He played with a lock of her hair, probably fighting not to frown in confusion at its wildness, she thought. “And how’s my little mocha beauty today?” he whispered. “Did you miss me?”

I’m twenty-five, not an impressionable teenager, she reminded herself. The pep talk meant zip. He smelled too good. Not cologne, or not only cologne. There was an animal scent to him, something wild and untamed. She longed to rip her clothes off and beg him to take her.

She tried for playing it cool instead. “Hey, what’s up, Marcus?” She flattened her back against the wall, folding her hands behind her. She wanted to be cool, but the knack had all gone to Renee. Instead she was a dumpy, plump woman, still a virgin at her age. Not normally down on herself to the extent she was feeling now, she figured it was Marcus’ fault. He brought out the worst in her.

His deep brown eyes narrowed, almost black with intensity he displayed when he looked down at her. He rested an arm beside her head and moved so close, the heat of his body seemed to produce the wetness in her panties without touch.

His gaze dropped to her lips. She alternated between licking them and chewing the bottom one. His head lowered until his full lips were a fraction of an inch from hers.

“Do you wonder what I do?” His breath warmed her mouth.

“W-What’s that?”

He shifted his hard muscled frame causing his thigh to brush hers. She had to fight not to spread her legs in invitation to him. The flick of his eyebrow toward his hairline was an indication that he knew how he affected her.

“I wonder what your mouth would taste like, whether you would be sweet and intoxicating.” To her relief he turned his head after he spoke, but soon ran his nose along her neck. As if she had no command over it, her head tilted back to expose her throat to him. “Because you smell like you’d be delicious,” he declared.

Before her knees could give and she sagged against him, Renee jerked him away. “Marcus, get the hell away from my sister! I told you, she’s off limits!”

Why, why why! Tameca fought a groan of frustration. The man got her wet and excited every time he came to their house, but never did anything other than tease her. So unfair.

Coming soon to Amira Press

Tressie Lockwood
www.freewebs.com/tresslock

Unedited Excerpt from Accidental Mates 3

Hi All! Here's my excerpt from the upcoming third book in my Accidental Mates series. I hope you like it! Thanks for reading.

I woke with the sun beaming on my face and tested my limbs. No pain. My body had healed itself. Glancing around, I noted I lay on a cot in the corner of a small room. Tables lined the walls, and on each were jars of colorful substances. On a counter near the door a purple spotted plant sat with gloves and a gardening tool next to it. While the place was spotless, it looked nothing like a doctor’s office. I wasn’t sure where Ladon had deposited me.

A moment later, I heard his voice just outside the door. The woman he spoke to was a frequent visitor to the bar where I worked and my new friend. I hoped he hadn’t told her I was there.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I discovered, I was still naked. “Bastard.” I stood, and the door opened. Ladon paused to let his gaze sweep over my form. I stood my ground, daring him to comment.

He shrugged. “Aren’t you going to produce scales to cover yourself?”

“I don’t live like a dragon anymore,” I snapped. “I told you last night. It was last night, right?”

He shut the door behind him and moved to the counter with the gloves and herbs. “One night too many. You’re healed now. You can go back to wherever it is you live.”

I found a shirt lying on the bottom of the bed and slipped into it. “Why do you have all these jars? It looks different from when you ran the clinic on Earth. What are you up to now?” He ignored me barefoot and bare-legged next to him. When I reached to examine a jar, he smacked my hand.

“Get out, Tiam. I let you stay here. Your precious humans don’t know you’re a Drelconian. Oh and you’re welcome for saving your life.”

“Thank you.” I stood there staring at him, taking in the long black ponytail, the ruggedly handsome features, almost identical to all Drelconian golden dragons. Yet, the kindness which had marked Ladon, a gentle guard who cared more about his people than anything seemed long gone—dead. “What happened to you? Why has your heart died?”

“Spare me.”

“You’re not the only one who has ever lost someone they love, Ladon. Arnetta was—”

He was on me faster than I could blink. Something crashed to the floor, and tall as I was, Ladon had me inches off the floor, held up by my arms. “Say it again!” he threatened. “Say her name again. I dare you.”

His teeth sharp, and his nostrils blowing smoke, he waited for me to take his challenge. We could fight it out, and neither of us would win or lose unless we were willing to kill. A Drelconian didn’t die easily.

I kept my mouth shut. After a while he lowered me, but did so in a way which made my body glide along his. I fought to free myself. He was stronger. The wiggling around pleased him. “Let me go.”

“Do you have a lover?” he breathed, running his nose along my neck, taking in my scent. The sudden switch had my head whirling.

“I . . .”

“I haven’t had a woman in years,” he admitted. “We would be compatible in bed, I’m sure. I won’t take a human again.”

Placing my hands on my hips, I tilted my head to the side examining him. “With the hate I see in your eyes vying with the lust, I wouldn’t take you to my bed if you paid me.”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t pay for it.”

COMING SOON TO AMIRA PRESS!

-Brenda Steele, Erotic Fantasy
www.myspace.com/brendasteele

Authors Excerpt Day!

Good Morning Angels! LOL

I think the title speaks for itself! Come one Come all Amira press authors and give us you best excerpt! Do you have a book coming soon or a book already released? Well give us a taste and wet our appetites for more!

My Grown-Up Dreams

Let's see--gee, I wanted to be a writer lol. But hey, before that I went through normal phases like everyone else. I wanted to be a teacher one time. Then there was a doctor and I went around saving the lives of my toys. I also wanted to be an arcitech.

Once I decided to become a writer, everything else just stopped visiting my mind. It was made up and I wrote every chance I had. Some people thought it was cool and couldn't wait to read my stuff. Some of those people didn't even like me but they loved my stories, esp Mysteries of the Peterson Estate. They never knew I actually had talent, that's what they said. It made me realize that I had finally found my calling.

To get to that point in my life, I had been through a lot. I really mean a lot. I was teased, laughed at, and picked on. It didn't matter who I was, no one wanted to be around me. Then I even tried to kill myself which thank God didn't work! When I found writing, I found myself!!! Rather, it found me!

Amber Rigby Grosjean
http://www.argrosjean.com

In Kindergarten I Knew...

Yes, really, in kindergarten I knew exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. My ambitions were small and naive I suppose, but genuine. I wanted to be a farmer and an artist. A farmer because my parents and my grandparents always kept gardens and the tomatoes and strawberries were the best ever. I am fascinated by plants and growing food to eat. I love nature and the ability to live off the land.

Did I become a farmer? Not exactly. I was five then, so I suppose my concept of what a farmer is by trade was skewed. I do keep a garden on occassion, but as another author mentioned, life gets in the way of our dreams--or five dogs and three little boys who all like to dig and destroy.

Did I become an artist? Yes. I am a cover artist for three publishers, and have also painted many murals in private homes, a local church, and a restaurant near where I live. I am often told I have an overly creative mind. My friends grin and shake their heads if I get bored and doodle or make paper boats. I can't help it. I always want to 'make' things.

I see my writing as an extension of my creativity. It cannot be stopped--and believe me, I have tried. My imagination is always at work, plotting the next scene or dreaming up the next character. Although I never thought I would become an author, looking back, I think it fits in nicely with my childhood dreams. I can grow whole worlds and color them for others with words.

Anastasia Rabiyah
www.RabiyahBooks.com
Dark Fantasy & Erotic Romance

What I want to be when I grow up...

A writer. It was what I always wanted to be, from the time I started reading in kindergarten, until...well, ever. Life got in the way, of course, but eventually I was at a point in my life where I could seriously pursue publication. I spent several years writing non-fiction for a living, but my fiction was always my "hobby" -- my passion. But for years I felt guilty if I took time away from my "real writing" (ie non-fiction) to play with my make-believe worlds of words that were always swirling just behind the fringe in my mind. Thanks to a loving (and persistent) husband, I finally took a chance on getting the "voices in my head" published. I consider myself lucky that I can now claim my dream job as my full-time profession.

My name is Lesli Richardson, and I'm a fiction novelist. :)

Lesli Richardson, author of "Love & Brimstone" by Amira Press.
http://leslirichardson.blogspot.com
http://brimstoneseries.blogspot.com
http://myspace.com/madmumbler

Call Me Lucky Or Crazy

I was always one of those lucky kids who knew exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. It was never a case of what but which!

I always had people running around in my head and I soon discovered there were only two ways to get them out...or at least, let them out to play for a while cause, well, I'm 31 years old and they're still there (snickers).

One way, was acting. I loved playing pretend and playing different characters.

My two absolute favorite subjects in highschool were drama and english. Really, I should have known, huh? In highschool, we would put on these 'variety night' talent show deals every year and as terrified as I was (really, if there's ever an oxymoron, it's the 'shy actor'), I absolutely loved the whole process. When my drama class wrote one of those 'after school special' kind of plays about drugs and got to tour them to different schools, I loved not only the acting but the feeling of community between actors working together to 'put on a show'. Having this one kid stop me one day while I was going to the store with my mom and ask me if I was the girl that had put on that play at his school, I was tickled pink!

I took acting in college and as much as I loved it, the nerves got to me too much. It became this chore to get over the panic of getting up in front of my fellow students and strangers. Even the love of disappearing into a character or hiding behind it didn't help, because it was the moments before that crippled me. Once I was up there, I was pretty okay. I was told I was good. The director of the course even told me she had heard wonderful things about me but I was literally feeling sick inside before each scene so I made a choice.

Writing had always been this other way to get the people in my head out. It was something I did 'for fun'...and to pass the doldrums of school. I was that kid with a notebook on my lap, scribbling away while the teacher's went on...and on about what x is if you multiply it by 12...I still don't know...nor have I ever had to find out. (blows raspberry at algebra teacher)

As I was pulling away from acting, my drive to write became stronger and stronger and it felt like, as much as I loved acting, writing was more suited to my personality so why not make that my focus as a career?

The terror of submitting was sufficiently less than the terror of getting up on stage and I could do it alone, which is definitely my personality. I live alone and love it that way. I'm a solitary sort who loves my own company.

And yet, thanks to the wonders of technology, I'm able to have that same community feeling that acting would give me. I could chat with other writers and have a grand old time, yet still feel comfortable enough to actually feel joyful when I thought of getting up and fulfilling my dream everyday.

So I have no regrets. I didn't 'settle' like so many do into their 'safe' jobs cause they fear going after their dreams. I tried the acting thing, gave it my all, but it didn't fit 'me'.

Writing is the perfect fit for me. It's who I am...or it's who I've always been, I just needed to explore my other dream to make sure.