What's in a Name?

Last week on my new website, I asked about euphemisms for semen. There are people who prefer "cum," and those who can't help but think "...feel the noiz, girlz rock your boyz" when they see it and prefer "jizz" or "seed" depending on the circumstances.

How about you, Loose Enders? Whether you're a reader or a writer, what do you prefer to call semen? Does a contemporary or historical setting make a difference?

A Different Kind of Sports Hero

When Cassandra suggested we do back-to-back blogs on why we chose to write about sports heroes, I was more than game. You see, I'm a football junkie from way back. I love baseball, hockey, and basketball, too, but football is my sport.

Many years ago I wrote the first incarnation of Fourth and Goal. I was new to romance writing and RWA in particular. It didn't take long for me to hear all the negative remarks about sports heroes and book sales. I put F&G away and worked on other books.

Last year after a particularly long bout of writer's disinterest (I wasn't blocked, just not interested in anything I was writing), I pulled the book back out of mothballs. I'd written it so long ago, all I used was the idea and the characters, but none of the actual writing. After finishing it, I sent it to three NY editors and received three very nice rejections. Each one said: "Love the story, but sports heroes don't sell." Okay, no surprise there. I'd heard that for years.

But why don't they sell? Could it be the the authors who write about them don't really know or care about the sports they write about? Is it possible many readers are knowledgeable enough about sports that most of these books fall short and don't capture their interest? I know I've been frustrated by the huge amount of football hero romances in which the hero gives up his career for the heroine or the heroine is completely ignorant of or hates football. It's pretty much the norm for sports hero books. Yet, according to the NFL, over 45 percent of their fans are women. Certainly these women read. Maybe sports hero romances fill a niche market, rather than being the type of story which fits the mass market?

I really don't know the correct answers to the above questions. What I do know is that I wanted to write a different kind of sports hero romance in which my heroine, Rachel, not only knows football but wants a career as a pro football scout. Derek, my hero, is a struggling wide receiver on the verge of being washed up. Not only only does the book follow their romance, but it follows the team's transformation from basement dweller to Super Bowl contender.

I'm very excited about this book and am halfway through the second book in my Seattle Lumberjacks Football Series featuring Derek's bad boy cousin, Tyler, who's met his match in the form of an animal communicator heroine and an spoiled orange tabby cat.

Since Fourth and Goal is still in the final editing stage, I'm not able to post an excerpt here, but I do have a treat for you with an adult excerpt of Cassandra Carr's Talk to Me, due out next month from LI and featuring a hockey hero:

The elevator doors opened, and Drew hurried to unlock his apartment and punch his code into the security pad before continuing straight to his bedroom. He spun and picked Jamie up as she neared the door, and she let out a squeak of protest.

“Drew!”

“What? I’m trying to be romantic. Efficient too.” He grinned at her when she struggled to get out of his grip. The way she fought against him both amused and aroused him. “Not so fast,” he warned her. “I’m not planning to let you get away until I’m good and finished with you.”

Jamie cocked an eyebrow. “Good and finished? Be still my heart! Such dreamy talk from a man like you! I had no idea.”

Drew laughed and dropped Jamie on the king-size bed with enough force to make her bounce, then climbed on top of her. Before she could protest again, he’d pressed his erection into her belly and taken her lips in another deep kiss. Jamie melted beneath him, snaking her hands around his neck while his found her hips, pulling her closer. “You need to get naked,” he declared, rolling off her.

“Just me? That’s hardly fair. If I’m getting naked, then this time, so are you.” Her beautiful, full lips pouted at him.

He stood up, and in seconds, his pants and boxer briefs landed in a heap on the floor. He pulled his shirt over his head and added it to the pile. “Your turn.”

Jamie rose up on her elbows and stared at him in disbelief. “How did you do that so fast? And may I add, very nice.” She smiled and waggled her eyebrows, giving him a quick once-over.

“When I want something, I don’t waste time. And I want you naked. Now.”

He reached over and started yanking her top over her head, but she batted his hands away.

“Hey -- stop that. You’re going to dislocate my shoulder with your beastlike strength.”

Drew laughed but allowed Jamie to gently pull her blouse over her head. He took it and tossed it on the chair near the window. Next she tugged her jeans off, leaving her in only her bra and panties, which Drew made short work of.

He groaned when she was fully nude. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous, you know that? And I’m gonna put my hands and my tongue and my mouth and my cock everywhere on and in your beautiful body, so you better be ready.”

Jamie shivered, and he covered her body with his, kissing her briefly before moving down her jawline, sucking and licking. This is gonna be good.

 From Talk to Me by Cassandra Carr, due out in March at Loose Id.

Jami currently has three published books. You can find out more at http://www.jamidavenport.com/.

Books are Magic Carpets

I grew up in England in a family that read extensively. I was fed a steady diet of Enid Blyton books about upper class white kids having adventures like running away to the circus, or solving crimes; all while on their summer holidays from their expensive boarding schools. The lives of these characters bore no parallels to mine. Yet I loved to read those books.
Why do we read fiction?
I read it to be lifted out of my everyday life and transported to a world where things I would not ordinarily experience can happen while I watch, feel and take part emotionally in the adventure. A recent review of my first book Precious Jade pointed out a couple-- perhaps even several-- implausible plot devices. But the lady gave the book four stars and a said she loved it. God bless her!
A piece of fiction does not have to be realistic to be great. I recently read Asylum by Patrick McGrath. The prose was brilliant. The story was compelling and utterly plausible. By the time I got to end, I seriously needed a drink. It was so damn depressing.
Years ago I read a romance novel where the heroine and hero were in such conflict that the only they could get together and do the nasty was if she lost her memory and then regained it after the act. She did this several times during the book. It was ridiculous. It was great! I loved the book and could not put it down,
A dear friend of mine runs the library in a small town and we were chatting about the books the kids take out. There are a few modern, politically correct books on hand about divorce, same-sex parents and disability. Then there are the books that adults complain about—the Enid Blyton books I grew up on. Minorities are not represented and all the kids are healthy and from two parent, wealthy families. I asked which books were most popular with the kids and she said the Enid Blytons. No one wants to sit down with a book depicting the ordinary sameness of their lives. They want adventure. They want to be transported.
As a child my favourite secret fantasy was that I had a magic carpet and could fly all over the world to any country and meet all kinds of fascinating people.
Books are magic carpets.

Going against the grain...

Recently I've been talking to a fellow Loose Id author, Jami Davenport, about doing some cross-promotion. You see, both of us have books coming out in the next couple of months, and they have one important thing in common (besides both being erotic romances). What is that thing? We both use athletes as our heroes.

Now, "conventional wisdom" has always said to steer clear of athletes as hero material, but both Jami and I disagree with that - obviously! For one thing, I think there are a lot more female sports fans now than there ever have been, so reading a book featuring sports doesn't faze readers like maybe it used to. Also, with the way the human race is today, is a power-hungry CEO or a CIA agent really a better person than an athlete?

I've included a short excerpt of my book, Talk to Me, and a blurb about Jami's book, Fourth and Goal, so you can see just how delicious athlete heroes can be. I'm guessing you figured out Jami's book has a football theme. Talk to Me is about an ex-hockey player turned sports talk radio show host. Enjoy!

Talk to Me adult excerpt:

By the time the show ended and Jamie thought about how long it would take her to shut everything down for the night, then hustle herself off to the subway station and take the three different trains to get to her apartment all the way out in Brooklyn, she was truly afraid she would self-combust.

Drew ran out of the place like a bomb scare had been called in, so at least she didn’t have to worry about him anymore. Nonetheless, Jamie waited a good ten minutes past when she was finished with her nightly duties, then made her way back to the small production room where she and Drew had recorded his promo earlier. She knew a copy of it would still be stored on the computer in the room, and after scooting in and shutting the door, she booted it up. She told herself she needed to check it one more time before giving it to the station manager tomorrow, but who was she kidding? She needed to hear him but in a safe environment. Where she couldn’t do anything stupid. She needed his voice to weave inside her, through her, like a drug.

The rough yet strangely melodic sounds of Drew’s voice drifted over Jamie as she leaned back in her chair. Closing her eyes, she pictured his face in her mind -- his to-die-for lips traveling down the length of her body, just as her hand was doing at the moment; his navy blue eyes, focused only on her as he brought her to orgasm… She reached the button of her jeans and eased them open, propping her feet up on the desk.

She couldn’t believe she was doing this at work, but no one was around, and if she didn’t do something to assuage this ache, she was likely to jump him the next time she saw him. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Fantasizing about the man was one thing; straddling his powerful, muscular thighs in the studio chair and offering herself to him was another. That thought brought another rush of heat to her pussy, and she moaned. She needed serious help.

At first she just teased herself a little, rubbing outside her panties, but it soon became too much. She needed relief too badly to continue to torment herself. As Drew’s voice continued to assail her from all directions in the small, windowless room, she pushed her hand down inside the waistband of her panties and through her curls until she found the damp center of her sex. The sweet smell of her musk wafted up to tickle her nose, arousing her even more.

Twirling her fingers as much as the constricting position allowed her to, she imagined they were Drew’s tongue instead. She let out a plaintive moan as the picture caused her juices to flow even more, soaking her fingers. Plunging two of them into her pussy, she pressed her thumb on her clit, craving the direct stimulation. Jamie gasped as shock waves of pleasure shot from her pussy through her clit and up her spine, her back arching. And through it all, Drew’s voice urged her to new heights.

Fourth and Goal blurb:

In a game played on and off the field, only one of them will emerge the winner.

Armed with an uncanny ability for evaluating football talent, a dogged determination to succeed in a man’s world, and an empty bank account, Rachel McCormick agrees to help struggling wide receiver Derek Ramsey get his game back. Rachel believes Derek, her former best friend and lover, knows the truth behind a points-shaving scandal which ruined her father. She vows to expose the secret even if it destroys Derek in the process.

When Derek’s coach suggests sex as an excellent tension reliever the night before a game, Rachel takes one for the team. The next day, Derek has the best performance of his not-so lustrous pro football career. As Derek and Rachel rack up nights in bed and other places, the team racks up wins on the field. Rachel is torn between her loyalty to her father and her growing affection for Derek. Now it’s fourth and goal, one second left on the clock. Their hearts are on the line. Do they trust each other enough to go for the long bomb or do they get dropped for a loss?

So what do you think? Can athlete heroes work in erotic romance?

More information about Cassandra Carr can be found at http://www.booksbycassandracarr.com. More information about Jami Davenport is at http://www.jamidavenport.com. Check us out!

Information overload

I'm in information overload right now. I've been researching a few subjects in the personal life. I think I would be happier to not know what I've learned because it means some changes and they aren't inexpensive changes.



I've had that happen before with research for books. It's one reason I don't write historicals a lot. I find out all this neat information and want to share it! Which runs into being an info dump. I also worry about getting things wrong. Let's face it, I'm not an expert on any time period and I really like to be as accurate as I can. I live in fear that I'm going to get something in a historical wrong. I'm not saying I'll never write them by the way. Just that's why I tend to favor other genres.



With Be My Moon, I had to research coconuts of all things. I wanted to be sure I had the terminology right and that I knew about them. I discovered a term I thought was correct, wasn't, yet it was the term most commonly known for this particular part of the coconut. It created a dilemma for me. Did I go with the wrong popular term or the right lesser known term? I went with the latter because I do like to be accurate.



The information in my personal life, I'm sure I'll use and make the right decision. But for now, I've overdone the research. The story of my life.




Mechele Armstrong

http://www.mechelearmstrong.com/

A Question of Age

This is something I’ve been pondering while working on a new book, and I’m conducting an informal poll around the blogosphere. As long as a character is 18, are you okay with reading about him or her in sexual situations? Or is that still too young? What’s your threshold? 18? 19? 20? Older?

And does it change when the story is historical rather than contemporary? Is having a 17-year-old hero or heroine okay in a historical depending on the mores of the time period? Does the age of the other half of the pair come into play? Say, two 19-year-olds is okay, but a 19-year-old with a 30-year-old makes you uncomfortable? Does gender make a difference?

Does the plot matter? Would a BDSM story with an 18-year-old be off-putting while a sweet, traditional romance be fine?

Or does age not particularly matter at all as long as it’s a compelling, well-written romance?

The Morning After Blues

It’s Monday morning and I’m sitting in front of my computer trying to figure out what to do. It’s not like I don’t have work. I just can’t seem to focus even though I’ve got everything I need to make the day a fruitful and productive one; my cup of coffee, music -- early Ricky Martin before he crossed over -- playing in the background, and our Pugs a few feet away on their bed. They’re snoring, snorting and performing gaseous feats that would put a grown man to shame.

There are days I go through this lack of focus. Sometimes for weeks at a time! And not just because the dogs gas me out of breath. Today there’s more to it than that. You see, this past Saturday night I finished the first draft of my third book, “Learning To Samba.” You’d think completing it would be a good thing. It was! We even went out to celebrate and spent all my future royalties! But that was then.

Now, I’m just dealing with “the morning after” blues. Yesterday didn’t really count since my partner was here; we went out for breakfast, ran errands, ran into a friend and did some things around the house. It kept my mind occupied. Today, however, my partner is at work and I’m alone in the house.

And I’m worried.

Will people like the book? Is the story too much? Is it too realistic or not realistic enough? Are the characters strong? Are they too clichéd? Stereotypical? Have people read this before? Will my editor like it? Will she recommend it for publication? Worse yet, what will I do with it if she doesn’t?

Working on a book is a strange experience. I’ve gone through short spurts where I type as fast as I can because time is limited and I want to get every nuance down on paper. If I’m lucky, I might have hours on end to work on the story and let it come forth.

But then there are the endless days and weeks, if not months, where I don’t write a word because I just don’t know where the story is going. I don’t know if the characters ring true. I don’t know if what they did will change something pivotal and so drastically that it will determine a totally new outcome for the protagonist.

I go through bouts of self-doubt and I berate myself for daring to be something I’ve always wanted to be.

And then, like taking a mental laxative, the negativity slowly dissipates and the story just goes again. Sometimes I can’t stop and I sure as hell don’t want to! Not when the muse is standing behind me, her gracious hand on my shoulder, egging me on.

Though each writing experience is different, depending on the story, in a way it’s like the build-up to the perfect Florida version of the Currier & Ives Christmas party we try to have every year. First we plan. Then my partner usually creates original artwork or an invitation. We send them out. The tree goes up, the ornaments begin to adorn, and everything starts to look a lot like Christmas.

Then the fated day arrives.

People come. They bring food. They eat, they laugh, they drink. They reconnect. That’s when I usually wind up experiencing what I call “My Perfect Culmination.” It’s when I pull back, albeit slightly tipsy, then watch and listen to everyone being involved and interactive with everyone else as pockets of conversation try to drown out another. All the while you can’t even hear the party music.

Then, wooosh, just like that…it’s over.

I’ve been wandering about aimlessly this morning. I’d go as far as to say that I’m drained and even somewhat depressed. I’m no longer with my buddies; though I will be soon enough. I do have to edit after all. It’s just strange not being with them, stuck in their muck of drama that occupied almost every moment of my day; whether it was in the forefront while sitting at the computer, working on the story, or in the background when I showered, brushed my teeth or went to sleep.

I suppose in a way it’s okay, though. At least now I can finally pay the bills I’ve been ignoring as they stacked up. I can play with the dogs, the cat, my partner; though probably not in that order. But first, I think I’ll attack the lava flow of clothes that’s been slowly erupting and pushing up from the inside of my volcano hamper.

Oh, right. I almost forgot. The house will finally be clean again!

And soon, the entire process will begin anew. I'm starting to hear new voices in my head.

Changing My Mind About Synopses

Like the picture? Okay, now that i have your attention, let's talk about synopses.  LOL. I know, no one wants to think, much less talk about these necessary evils. We only write them because sometimes we can't submit a book without them, we hope no one really reads them, and, most of the time, we write them after the book is finished. At least that has been true for me. But it changed this past week. Two reasons. First, i want to take advantage of an exciting submission opportunity that requires a proposal (a partial, pitch, and synopsis), and, for the first time in my short writing career, the book in question is only a little over a third done, so i have to write the synopsis first. The other reason it all changed is because, when facing a writing challenge, i take a workshop! This past week i went to my favorite workshop source, Savvy Authors, and took a short and informative class from Cindy Carroll. Called, appropriately, Synopsis A Necessary Evil, i suggest you check it out. Cindy told us a lot of basics -- present tense, third person, written in the same "voice" as the book, and above all, it should always , always, are you listening Tara, be written BEFORE the book.

Are you reacting like i did? Wait, i'm mostly a pantser. I have a general story idea when i begin a book, but nothing so formal as an outline. All the good stuff comes in the writing when the characters start talking and telling me the exciting things about the story. Oh, really? His boss is Chinese? No kidding? His mother refuses to admit he's gay and keeps trying to marry him to a woman? I didn't know that.  LOL. Now, Cindy gave us a lot of great ways to create a synopsis -- the heroes journey, Save the Cat -- but i couldn't quite see myself following any of them. Maybe you feel the same way, pantser that you are. Okay, so if you're a pantser, how do you write a synopsis of your story that just happens? The answer is, at least for me, you PANTS it.

That's what i learned by doing (and what veteran writers already know).I had to do it, so I sat down at the computer and, just as if i was writing the book, started writing the story. I thought of it as my "Out of Africa" experience. Do you remember, Karen tells stories to amuse her friends. They suggest a first line premise -- there was a man named Wong Foo and a woman called Shirley --and she takes up the story. That's the way i felt writing the synopsis. New plot points, complications, twists and turns, poured out of my fingers. The style was more upbeat, more exciting than any synopsis i had ever taken from a finished book. And i will now admit the worst of all possible truths that many of you already know and can't believe i don't. It was almost as much fun as writing the book. Why? Because i hadn't already written the book! The unexpected fun of creation got transferred to the synopsis. We still have to see how much having this synopsis helps me write the book. Chances are, i'll barely look at it, since the structure of the story will already have seeped into my unconscious. I'll just write like i always do.

If you're rolling your eyes at me right now and saying "Tara, how much of a newbie are you?", the answer is "pretty new, thanks". But the fun of writing fiction for me is that i learn something new literally every day. That's what i learned this week.

What is your secret to making a synopsis sing? Come on, share. I need the input! LOL  :  )

Drawn Cover Art

Over the past few years, I have been blessed with some incredible cover art. To the left is an example, the cover for my newest release A Rose is a Rose. I happen to think that it's a delicious thing to look at and, judging from some reader responses, I'm not alone in this.

Let me also admit that I happen to adore drawn cover art. In my opinion, photographs just don't always make it. Now, I'm not saying that I haven't seen some stunning photo-manipulated covers, because I have. I even have a few. But when given the chance, I'll almost always go for something drawn if I can. To me, for better or for worse, the drawn covers give more of a fictional feel to the story. But then, growing up, my favorite books to read were fantasy stories so I grew up selecting books with gorgeous artwork of fantasy people and places on the covers.

Of course, my books tend to lend themselves to the drawn format. If people get a comic -- meaning comics, not funny papers -- or graphic novel feel from my stories, so much the better. Because that's along the lines of how I think. I think in pictures so I tend to write to describe them and more often than not those pictures aren't the most "realistic". Now, that's hard to explain. It makes sense for the fantasy and paranormal books I've written, but it may not make much sense when thinking about my Heaven Sent series or A Rose is a Rose. Both of those examples are contemporary stories so their characters are realistic in the modern day sense. But I maintain that even when writing contemporary, I'm writing fantasy. I'm writing about things where wouldn't it be cool if it exists. So, even there, the drawn format is much more appropriate for me.

I have been blessed especially by two very talented artists in particular.

PL Nunn of Bishonenworks is one. She's responsible for A Rose is a Rose and my Heaven Sent series as well as a few others. I am extremely proud that the first Heaven Sent cover was her first with Loose Id. When we were discussing cover art, management and I agreed it should have a yaoi feeling, which meant a drawn cover. They took a chance on a suggestion of mine to ask PL if she'd do it. I'd been a fan of her work already and knew that if she did the covers, they'd be unique and stylish and immediately radiate the tone of the series. I was right and she hasn't let me down with any cover she's graced me with.

Anne Cain is the other. Not only is Anne an absolute sweetheart in person, she's an amazingly talented artist. When I saw my first cover from her -- Leashed 2: More than a Bargain -- I was stunned. To this day, I think that cover most perfectly captures the feel of my threesome paranormal series. Then Anne had some fun on her own and drew an image of two of my main dark elves. If you visit my website, it can be seen as one of the headers in the rotating banner. When I saw that, again I was stunned. I fell in love with my own characters again. So, when the print version of the elves came up, I of course asked if Anne could supply the cover. I'm so delighted that wish was granted because the covers for Dark Elves I and II in print are among my favorite book covers ever. Anywhere.

Different authors have different opinions on cover art and that's how it should be. Different stories have different flavors and not all can or should lend themselves to the same format. It's the variation that makes choosing a book exciting and fun. But, for me, more often than not, I'll write for and tend to pick up the covers that sprang from the fingers and imagination of a talented artist.

Dreaming of Puppets

Inspiration. Sometimes it’s an armadillo attack. Sometimes it’s more mundane. (This is me, trying to bang out a writing related post -- just don’t expect it to be all erudite and filled with proper information and stuff… I’ll leave that to some of my fellow LI authors.)

Anyhoo… For those of you who don’t know me, I have two books out with Loose Id (Wolfsbane & Blood Relations in the MIA Case Files series). In these books, I’ve got entities called Umbrae which infect humans, creating mythological or folklore monsters. And MIA is the secret agency that combats them. Simple enough, right? But I thought I’d tell you a bit about my inspiration for them.

Dreams spawn a hell of a lot of my story ideas. Most of the dreams I remember involve blood and death, serial killers, someone trying to kill me, or a combination thereof. Fabulous material, although I suspect my brain is a nasty pit stop on the way to crazy town.

One night, though, I had a particularly vivid dream -- secret agents investigating paranormal phenomenon, angst-y romantic conflict between gruff Carmichael and sweet Adam, and even the stoic senior agent, Oliver, who is the hero of the manuscript I’m working on now. However, the paranormal being they were investigating? Uh… a fifty foot Oscar the Grouch-type monster. Kinda destroyed the whole ’secret’ thing, and didn’t do much for the scary-ness, although it was terribly impressive when he/it stomped all over the local football stadium.

It was a great start, but for a viable villain, I needed to start ’what-if’ing. And, OMG, actually plotting! Many a drive to work was spent toying with options. Probably I shouldn’t admit that I’d written two thirds of the first draft of Wolfsbane (which was sans title for a loooong time) before I hit on the Umbrae. The inspiration for Blood Relations was a little more simple, especially since I‘d already come up with the Umbrae, although it was also a dream. Unfortunately, if I tell you, it gives away the climax. Suffice it to say, Cooper’s black moment is pretty darn close to the way I dreamt it.

Some might say I’m in need of therapy and/or medication. I say I have a head full of creatively helpful nonsense. To-may-to, to-mah-to. Regardless, at times when I’m slated to write ten blog posts over the next month… inspiration is a handy-dandy topic.

Ummm… blog post starts out okay… but scrambles a bit looking for a solid finish…

Anyone got any good places they’ve found inspiration?

KC Burn

The Fine Art of Shameless Self-Promotion

Marketing remains more mystery than science to me. So whenever I see an article on how to promote better I read avidly. Last month Josh Lanyon posted about simple and free ways writers can market themselves here. Since he's obviously an expert on promotion, I soaked up his words of wisdom.

Alas, I found his excellent advice a tad difficult to follow.

Tip number one: become a regular reader and commenter on popular blogs.


Sounds great, but then reading on I learned the efficacy of this method depends upon being witty and clever. Due to severe limitations on my attention span and energy level, I reserve all my best thinking time for creative writing. Sadly,there's nothing left over for clever blog comments.

Tip number two: write an article for a webzine or popular blog on a topic you know well.

At first glance this advice seemed more promising. After all I do write and there are a couple of subjects where I have some small expertise. Upon further reflection, I fail to see how articles on my specialties: accounting; finance; domestic arts; and how not to train a dog, would further my erotic romance writing ambitions.

Tip number three: use an email address that matches your pen name.

Oh dear, I was supposed to have a pen name? Is there a remedial marketing class?

Tip number four: give away books.

I'm fairly sure my contracts prohibit doing this in anything like useful quantities. Buying my own titles and then giving them away would result in negative income. Plus, the book pirates are doing a fine job of this with absolutely no cost and no effort on my part. But Josh knows marketing. I'm still trying to figure out how to implement his fine idea.

Tip number five: post excerpts.

Thank goodness there's one surefire method I can adopt without qualms!

Bonus tip number six: (from me) Write lots of wonderful stories.

While he didn''t mention the last strategy specifically, it has been working brilliantly for Mr. Lanyon, check out his backlist!

Come Lie With Me: 3 Tips to Making Sex Scenes Count

For the last week and a half we've had internet connection problems at Chez Lanyon. You don't want to know, but allow me to whine anyway. Between comments and regular email, I get one HELL of a lot of stuff I need to respond to on a daily basis. This is both the pleasure and pain of my job.

There is no argument that I love hearing from readers, and all I can think is I've been sniveling in public lately because the last two weeks have been blessed with such incredibly kind letters from readers.




Should you ever have a down moment, know that there are people out
there who would give all they had just to be in your company, and who feel
a mountain of debt towards you. Should you ever have someone saying you
write too much, or you need to do something different, please, clod them on
the head for us. Should you ever wonder if your life was worthwhile, know
at least one of your readers feels a reconnection to humanity because of you,
is happy because of you, and believes you have made the world a better
place by far. That should surely count for something, right?



I don't even know how to respond to something like that -- I'm so deeply touched. And, as seems to so often happen, that letter came at a point of near-despair. And not over the internet connection (though that didn't help).

When I read things like this--and I've been so incredibly fortunate in my readers that readers care enough to take this kind of time to write--it helps me refocus on the things that matter.

But I seem to be digressing from my original point. My actual point is that, like so many writers, I often feel overwhelmed by the realization of all I'm failing to do. There's so much--writing is only a small part of it. It's the part that matters most to me, certainly--and probably to a lot of readers--but there's just a lot of stuff to do all the time.

Take this post here at Loose Id. I saw the alerts pop up in my email today and I realized that I needed to say something new, something fresh, something...something. And the week has been full of shrieking in full Edgar Allen Poe at ATT (who quoth NEVERMORE) and trying to hit deadlines (so freaking many deadlines) and what can I say that you haven't all heard before?

Probably nothing. But since I seem to be handing out nearly as much advice as I take these days, here are my three never fail tips for writing sex scenes that resonate with readers. Because when in doubt, pull the sex card.

1 - Say something.

Is it just me? I usually have something to say during those moments of, um, intimacy. I mean, unless I'm half asleep, and even then there's usually SOMETHING. Would you knock it off? Something. I'm blown away by how many fictional sex scenes apparently occur in dead silence or nothing more than a few moans and groans.

What a wasted opportunity for building genuine intimacy. People say stuff when they're feeling vulnerable and open and, yes, sexy.


2 - Equipment malfunction

Sometimes the most interesting stuff is what doesn't work. Again, maybe this is just me, but I'm not a machine and I've rarely had sex with machines. And I'd rather not talk about the time I did as I was VERY drunk and Coke doesn't even support that product anymore. (I have no idea what I'm talking about--I'm totally making this up as I go). Anyway...laughter and tears. Those aren't bad things in a scene of intimacy. Part of learning to be with someone is learning to be intimate with someone. And there's usually a learning curve. I like curves.





3 - Make them work for it

Not just the characters. The readers. Familiarity breeds contempt and a sex scene every fifteen pages is just dead boring. Make the characters work for it. Sex scenes mean more when they have ramifications. Sex before you're ready for it, sex with strangers, sex with enemies, sex for sex's sake...there are emotional and psychological ramifications for this stuff. But basically...if you have characters eat ice cream and cake every fifteen pages, it's dull, right? Oh, I know there are readers who live, vibrator in hand, for those scenes, but they don't write letters like the one above, and frankly, I'm not writing for those gals. They're just using me and my vending machine.

It's kind of like any relationship. We have our one night stands and we have our committed relationships. With every book, you make a promise to your readers, and what you're promising is you won't let them down and that you'll be there for the long haul. And even when you have performance anxiety, you'll do your best.

Writers, what are your favorite tips for making sex scenes count? Readers, name your single favorite sex scene in a book.

Brought Down releases today yeah!!!

http://www.loose-id.com/Brought-Down.aspx

If this cover looks familiar, you're right. I blogged yesterday about Brought Down. Now I'm back because Tuesday release days are held open for Loose Id writers with new releases and I'm so excited I have to do something with all this energey.

I love writing bondage/capture stories. Something about the process lets loose a favorite fantasy of mine. Loose Id has been wonderful about letting me explore those fantasies.

Instead of praddling on, here's a short blurb:

Captor and Captive. Born enemies bonded by rope and need.

Attachments & Connections

This past Monday, Valentine's Day, I wrote what I guess you'd call a blog post of sorts. It was on my Facebook profile and it was called "Attachments." It was silly really. At least to me. I was waxing poetic and being sentimental about a cell phone I'd had for at least 4 years and was now retiring because my partner got us the new Verizon iPhone.

I truly didn't expect much on the piece. In fact, I didn't think I'd get any replies at all. Ironically enough, I did. And I was surprised by what people shared. There were some very honest comments as well as a beautifully intimate, but sad, experience shared by a FB friend. I guess I touched something inside the people that read the piece.

It reminded me of why I wanted to be a writer in the first place.

We're all different. We may have many things that set us apart from one another -- male, female, American, English, straight, gay, black, white, not to mention personal experiences -- yet we share so many things in common! We are connected by our basic needs, desires and emotions. We all want a nice place to live, someone to love who will love us back, good health and the occasional vacation where we can escape from the routine of life. A dash of good sex and some romance thrown in couldn't hurt, either!

To me, nothing brings these connections to the forefront the way words do. I don't believe what the naysayers preach. "Words have no meaning! They have no power! It's all in the intent!"

To that, I say bullshit.

Words do indeed have power. They are magic. As writers, we know full well how each phrase, with the properly connected words, can breathe life into a scene and fill a reader with anger, fear, despair, humor, desire, hope. Each story helps readers connect -- either through a fantasy, or a memoir -- on a subconscious level, so they don't feel alone. So they can experience the connectivity of life and know we have purpose and meaning.

After a lifetime of wanting to be a writer I was ready to throw in the towel and give up my one unfulfilled desire. That is, until about two years ago when I was laid off from my regular "bill-paying" job. I've done a lot of soul searching since then and realized I was always a writer. I just wasn't published; at least, not with anything to my name that truly mattered to anyone.

Then a funny thing happened. Loose Id accepted my first ever m/m romance for publication. "Casa Rodrigo" is a difficult read for many due to the the topic -- which is slavery -- but as hard as it might be for some to read, it was just as difficult to write. But, once again, I think it's because in some way we're connected to the tragic true story of human bondage no matter the skin color at the other end of the chains; and despite the fact that "Casa Rodrigo" is a work of fiction.

When "Lauderdale Hearts" was released last month, I got some very interesting comments in the few reviews it's had thus far. Here again, the reviewers were able to connect with a character or event in the story and experience a connection to their own life.

In real life, I wrote something called "My ABCs" under a different pen name. I gave it to several people to read it and I encountered some very violent reactions. But one, whom I'll call Sally, visited me at work the very next day and hugged me. Though it wasn't quite a hug. It was more like she was holding on to me for dear life.

Through her tears, though I didn't understand why she was crying, she said, "Thank you. It's like you saw into my heart." I had no idea what she meant until many months later, when she finally resurfaced after many months of intense psychotherapy. Turns out Sally had been sexually and verbally abused as a child. She'd tapped into and connected with the little boy I wrote about, and the events he experienced in his life.

The situation with Sally was, to put it mildly, humbling. Just as it was to read about the gentleman on FB tell me about the pictures he took on his cell phone, of his dying partner, and how he still keeps it because of the emotional attachment and connection it gave him to his since deceased love.

So, fellow writers: we may not be Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley or Hermoine Granger; we may not live in the fantastical Shire with Bilbo and Frodo; we may not even be able to raise our hands and cause things to levitate or call them to us like the supposed mutants in X-Men. But we have our own version of magic wands we can swish and flick. We can miraculously make something happen, appear or disappear. We have the power to weave together stories that connect us. We can write about things that make us relate to someone, or something, and make us experience something great.

To me, that's pretty magical. And humbling.

Will The Real (insert writer's name) Stand Up

Here's a less than hot off the presses flash. I know a lot of writers. Writers know each other. We hang out on the Internet, attend conferences, go to local meetings. We promote our books and/or publishers both on our own and as part of a group. When we're bleary from lack of sleep or celebrating the end of a long day of writing with a glass of wine, yep, we let our hair down.

We gossip. We hang out at 'secret' Yahoo groups where we talk about everything from what the puppy ate this morning to how our kids are doing, to what our editor/agent told us. I'm a member of two support groups where health scares, financial concerns, etc are open books. This is where we sometimes tell each other things not meant for anyone else, not even family.

I mention this because truth is, the majority of our readers don't know the real us. Its the whole public persona thing, the marketing hook. As example, I write a lot of capture/bondage stories (which is what Brought Down is) http://www.loose-id.com/Brought-Down.aspx My website http://www.vonnaharper.com/ is IMO pretty out there complete with flames and hot colors. When I blog, Facebook, or Twitter, a lot of the time I present myself as sexually liberated, a clone of many of my characters.

The real me lives in the country, is owned by two rescue dogs, is married to a man with multiple health issues, has two grown sons and four of the world's most amazing grandchildren. Unlike my characters whose lives seem to revolve around their next sexual experience (it is erotica after all), mine is dictated by all the normal things that dictate all of us. No plunging necklines, huge sex toy collection (just a few), no turning the head of the world's most handsome man (darn it). No being captured by a primitive warrior and carried off to his lair (another darn it even if I'm concerned by the sanitation thing)

Okay, you get the picture. I may dream of becoming the object of a fantastic shapesifter's passion subject to his bondage expertise (pant, pant) but his skills all take place in my mind. Sigh.

Fortunately, I have a vivid imagination. Another example, in Brought Down I go WAY back in time where primitive societies lived by their own rules and standards. When a Hunter warrior is ordered to capture a woman from the Antelope clan and turn her into his sex slave, he does so. Of course things get more complicated than the king hoped because my characters bring their own personalities into the mix. Their needs and expectations. My warrior didn't expect to get hot and bothered but of course he did. My heroine didn't believe she'd fall in love with her captor but....

What I'm saying is, you aren't going to meet the real me between those pages. The same goes for every other writer I know. Hopefully that's okay. As long as the reader gets what she needs from the book, I'm sure it will be.

Something new for Valentine’s Day—maybe.

Most of you have probably read loads on the history of St. Valentine’s Day, but I came across something I didn’t know, and found very interesting; an ancient journal of St. Valentine. How cool is that? The author of this article states “The validity of the journal is only as real as you allow it to be within your mind.” So take this story for what it’s worth. I found the history surrounding this story so interesting that I plan to research it in more detail. Who knows, there may be a story there somewhere.

I’m going to start with a tad bit of history to lead into Valentine’s journal. I’ve posted only the first segment of his journal with a link to the full article.

Ancient Origins of Valentine's Day

In modern times, the month of February and St. Valentine's Day has come to symbolize love and romance, and has been celebrated in this gentile way since the days of courtship and wooing of the Middle Ages. But the origins of February being associated with love and fertility can be traced back to Ancient Greece and Rome.

• In Ancient Athens, from the middle of January to the middle of February was known as the month of Gamelion (actually the fifth month on the Athenian calendar). This entire month was dedicated to the sacred marriage of Zeus and Hera, referred to as the hieros gamos, or literally "holy or sacred marriage". Despite Zeus' constant infidelities, it seems that the Greeks nonetheless revered the union between their king god and his queen.

• In Ancient Rome, the Lupercalia was celebrated on February 15. This festival honored Faunus or Lupercus, a god of fertility and farming, and was celebrated with annual sacrifices and feasts. One of the aims of the festival was to purify the land and the young women of child-bearing age (February comes from the latin "Februare" meaning to purify). During the Lupercalia, 2 priests, called luperci, sacrificed 2 male goats and a dog at the sacred cave where Romulus and Remus were supposedly nursed by the she-wolf. After a feast, the luperci dressed in the goats' skins and ran through the city streets, whipping people (mostly young girls and women) with thongs cut from the sacrificial skins. This act was thought to purify the girls, ensure their fertility, and lessen the pain of eventual childbirth. Names were also drawn from an urn to pair up young men and women as part of the festivities. This was intended to lead to marriages and subsequent births.

On February 14, A.D. 496, the feast of St. Valentine was first declared, and the Lupercalia was outlawed as a pagan ritual.

The Ancient Journal of Saint Valentine

Most recently I was lucky enough to gain access to the one and only journal written by Saint Valentine (of Valentine's Day fame) regarding the events surrounding February 14Th, 269 AD. The journal had been buried in the ruins of Saint Valentine's final residence, the cold, damp, and dark stone prison of Roman Emperor Claudius. Among the decade prison ruble, a corner of the journal peeked-up from under a craggy stone-bit, revealing itself to the finder. Carefully releasing the Valentines day journal from its centuries old holding place, it became clear that the writing within would reveal the facts surrounding Saint Valentines true self and the events leading up to his execution. As the finder read the tail, cautiously turning the delicate ancient pages, the story of Valentine's Day became very real as told by saint Valentine himself. The validity of the journal is only as real as you allow it to be within your mind; but the facts surrounding the Valentine's Day saints' story, they are as real as real can be.

Saint Valentine Begins to Write His Journal

The morning began with a refreshing goblet of the best wine from our monks’ cellars. The other priest and I were giving thanks for the new day and praying that the emperor would withdraw his newly created law which cancelled all marriages and engagements. It seemed that emperor Claudius desired to grow his army to a much larger number than was currently at hand. His hope for a clamoring of volunteers was crushed as few, if any answered his request. I was told by a royal house-boy during confession that Claudius believed no volunteers came because they feared leaving their lovers, wives and families would break the hearts of those they cared for so deeply. Thus, in the emperors haste for military growth, he gained support in the senate to cancel all marriages and weddings and even engagements— making it all but illegal to fall in love outwardly. I, Valentine, am a man of God and I know my God to be a loving being. Thusly, I derived a stern allegiance to continue to honor the love of couples who seek out the right to marry, regardless of the newly placed law. Unfortunately, I was unaware that this allegiance to love would soon prove to be the birth of my death. For this reason I, Valentine, am writing my final days journal in the hope than a law created by a man will not damage the love created by God.

Read full article.

Born Into Fire

Fiera, a burgeoning Fire Element is in danger of enslavement. Erion, a fully fledged Air Element, can offer her protection. Together they must battle Element and Dragon. But will coming together tear them apart?

http://www.tarahscott.com/

I Feel Like I’m Narrating a Health Informational

Best friends, or kissing cousins?
by Olivander

Valentine’s Day is coming up, which means that websites lately have been awash with a vomitous mass of pink and white, like the bastard love children of a whirly gig, a typewriter, and slutty cotton candy machine. Not that I’ve ever seen such a love match outside of a few drunken hallucinations, mind you, but I’m a writer, and I’ve got a very good imagination. I also have really awesome Google-Fu, but I promise not to subject you to any more diabetic coma-inducing sweetness than is absolutely necessary today.

But at the same time, it’s Valentine’s Day. And I write romances. So you’re going to have to deal with me talking about relationships this month. Or, rather, one very specific, very special relationship.

Your co-author and you.

Working with a co-author is a unique experience. When the pair of you match up well, strengths meet weaknesses and a beautiful synergy happens, allowing a story to emerge that neither one of you could have come up with on your own. There’s an element of surprise lurking around every pass of the manuscript back and forth, keeping the experience fun, fresh and exhilarating, all while still operating with the polite fiction that you, the writer, have some sort of control over your plot and characters.

Of course, when you don’t match up, it can be pretty epically bad. From incompatible writing styles to conflicting visions of the story, not being on the same wavelength as your writing partner can be catastrophic for the story. You need to communicate, cooperate, and leave the egos behind. Heavens, do you ever need to leave the egos behind. I mean, self-confidence is one thing, but it’s too easy to take it from that to:




I have been just dying to use a clip with John Barrowman. Anyway.

I’ve been fortunate with my co-author. Jenny and I are very close, and have a degree of trust in each other that makes it easy for her to tell me when I just don’t make sense in my exposition. Or when I’m abusing homophones that I know to use properly but my fingers just haven’t gotten the blasted memo yet. Likewise, I can tell her when her punctuation is all over the place and tease out more description from her.

We’re a team, the two of us, and we keep each other going, keep writing together even when our day jobs have drained us of every last ounce of energy. When the words don’t want to come out in any order fit for public consumption, we work together to scheme and plot – we have a massive pile of plot ideas to cherry-pick from, just from our habit of bouncing ideas off each other. And she helps me.

Working with Jenny makes me more focused, helps me to block out the distractions a little better because it’s for shorter bursts of time. And my writing has grown by leaps and bounds, getting tighter and neater for working with someone else and being so acutely aware that ambiguity will only lead to the scene getting derailed. While I like to think that I’d have gotten better on my own, eventually, I know damn well that it was the push and pull we have between us that hurried the process along.

If you have ever found that happy place with your co-author, that Zen state of being where you achieve balance and harmony between the two of you, then you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I guess that’s one of the perks to being such good friends for the better part of a decade. That, and I get to blame all the editorial mistakes on her. *ducks*

How about you? Have you ever worked with a co-author? If so, how did it work out, and would you ever do it again?

And no, you can’t have mine. She’s made of awesome and I never was very good at sharing.

(Jenny would also like me to add that I was only allowed to use the above video in this post once I assured her that no, I wasn’t trying to tell her something.)

See you next month, when I will hopefully have found a way to get my co-author to help me write my blog posts, too (did anyone else just hear an indelicate snort?).

Love,

Elizabeth
http://www.UrbanSilver.net