Flash Fiction Wednesday 4/30--My Attempt

Should've known it wouldn't work, that little voice in her head whispered, unconcerned with how stupid the chortles made Nicki feel. Spontaneous wasn't Harold's way. The man planned everything to the nth degree.

Rolling on to her side, she gazed up at the hand cuffs binding her to the hotel room bed. Although she'd turned down the air conditioner, after nearly an hour waiting, chill bumps were beginning to coat her nude form. And she couldn't get loose because she'd dropped the darned key when she'd tried to retrieve it from the nightstand.

To top it all off, she'd cuffed herself to the side farthest from the phone. So now she was stuck here until housekeeping showed up--whenever.

Determined to at least be comfortable, Nicki slipped off the mattress and bent to tug the bedspread back with her teeth. Three tries and she finally had the thing off the pillow and down far enough--maybe she could use her foot...

"Quite the greeting, Miss Vymes."

"Oh, crap," Nicki moaned squeezing her eyes shut and hoping the man leaning against the wall and watching her was a horrible nightmare induce by the double chili dog she'd had for lunch.

Was Fate out to ruin her entire existence?

She only had to look into the mirror above the dresser across the room to understand the amused smirk lifting the man's lips. Who wouldn't laugh at a woman, always considered a bit on the plump side, nude, one foot on the mattress of a king-sized bed, bed cover dangling from her teeth like a puppy with a chew toy, and handcuffed to the headboard.

It wasn't like Luke Rayland hadn't already seen her at her worst--like when the brakes went out on her car and her old Saab plowed into his new truck. And then, less than forty-eight hours later when the strip club she'd been taking pole dancing lessons in had been raided by the vice squad he'd been assigned to.

Dropping the cover she determined she might as well get it over with. "Well, make yourself useful, G-Man, and come take care of this."

Wicked blue eyes widened in surprise before a sexy grin lifted his lips. "My pleasure, ma'am," he assured her as his hands rose to push the buttons through the holes on his shirt.

Hot Topic: What's better, cut or uncut?

Today's topic:
Foreskin

After doing a little research for one of my books, I was surprised to learn that circumcision isn’t popular in a lot of countries. Here, in the USA, it seems like the majority of men are snipped at birth with little thought about it.

Since I don’t have a penis, nor have I had the pleasure of seeing an uncut one up close and personal, I can’t say which form of the male appendage is better. My husband and I have talked at length about whether or not we would have our children cut, if we ever choose to have any, and are no closer to answer now than we were to begin with. There are ups and down to each side of the coin.

Do you have a preference, and if so, why?

Why do you write this magical stuff?

I originally wrote this article for forbiddenfruitzine.com and it appears in full on my website. However, I've edited it here for the main points of why some women may choose to write m/m fiction.

So why do you write this magical stuff?

The question deserved an answer though what caught my attention was the person asking was female and had used the word magical. I decided to explore this more fully. Yes, m/m romances do well! Strange then that not so long ago many shook their head in refusal or disbelief because they said ‘There was no market for this sort of work’. The simple question of why straight women write or read this type of literature brought forth some answers, most of which were completely unexpected. Some women could only reply that they found it arousing. That may be true but it begs the question of ‘why’. Some regularly read these works without finding it stirring. Others say it stirs their emotions only.

Most apparent is that if there are any women out there feeling awkward regarding their choice, they can rest assured they are not alone in their appreciation. I had already noted that most of these books had men who might well share intimacy with other men (sexual or otherwise) but they can be as soft or butch (I hesitate to say hard!) as the writer dictates and the reader desires. They could be gentle souls, gazing out a cruel world or have an in ‘your face, don’t mess with me or someone I love or you’ll be sorry’ attitude. So why do women read this ‘magical’ stuff?
The answers came thick and fast. Some women felt drawn to it from watching series such as Queer as Folk. In this, they often celebrated the skill of the writer. The drama drew them in as well as the characters and the obvious display of men letting go when it came to sex. Some had a favourite film star growing up who had come out of the proverbial closet later in life. Some had seen a film with a scene that affected them. Antonio Banderas seems to have something to answer for, for his ‘Pedro Almodovar’ films and Interview with a Vampire. Yet could you think of a more confident, secure image of a man. Male/male fan fic, slash art and yaoi all have their influence.

Still the reasons kept coming. Angst-ridden males seem to do well in female fiction. Although they like a happy conclusion, they don’t mind seeing their heroes suffer to get there. Some writers like to put their male characters into as sticky a situation as possible and watch them squirm, and their readers roll over in ecstasy with them. For some women, they are simply eliminating the sex that doesn’t interest them (although lesbians also read m/m books). Equally, they may enjoy male/female stories. Primarily though, they want to think about ‘men’ and it seems peculiar that in an age where men often watch girl-on-girl action and find that perfectly acceptable, they can act so negatively at the idea of males. Even if you’re not interested, why let it bother you? In this, some women write or leave these books lying around just to ‘get their own back’ on the straight guys out there. Some have gay family members or friends; they started out in this line because they wanted to write something for them.

The concept allows writers to go where they might not otherwise be able to, whether that is a character’s psyche or a representation of a physical here-to ‘male-dominated’ arena. They can also explore what some would consider ‘tasteless’ subjects if applied to female characters. It creates a new dynamic. Some see the latest female warrior type portrayed as asexual. She has to be tough and unfeeling to compete with the men. Women can be tough and still ‘feel’. They wish to equalise the playing field and create men who get as emotional and as hot and bothered as them.

There are women who have experienced negative relationships with a male member of the family. Possibly, they had a stern, unapproachable father, or one that couldn’t be present enough. In a world where women can be more openly caring -- and I don’t mean lesbians but women generally will freely kiss and hug each other hello and goodbye -- to see one man caring for another can have a deep emotional affect, particularly if the man is straight because that shows he’s secure enough not to care what others are thinking.

One of my personal favourites is that some believe that if one man is good, two is better. They see it as an opportunity to envision men doing what they do best! They want men raw, hot, sweaty, sexy, capable of tears and able to bestow tender kisses. I can hear some men crying out ‘They’re asking too much!’ Maybe that’s why they are inventing them.

Ultimately, though, they seem to agree on one thing. They want great plots, engrossing characters, and good writing. As for what I intend to write in future, I ‘intend’ to write as I always have, bridging genres, wherever my imagination takes me and my readers wish me to go. Just remember, whatever you’re writing, create your characters with care and with regards to your hero, make him suffer, make him hurt, then pick him up and cuddle him.


Sharon Maria Bidwell
aonia - where the muses live
http://www.sharonbidwell.co.uk
http://www.myspace.com/aonia

I have a confession to make

They say it's good for the soul. I love books. Yeah, I know big shock.

I've just returned from The Romantic Times Conference. One of the perks is that you get a lot of free books. My husband looked at me like I was nuts when I got home because I came in with more stuff than I left with. Between the kids' books and mine, we don't have room for any more book cases. Or so my husband says.

We were looking at my crowded shelves the other day and he said, "Those hardbacks? Are you ever going to read them again? Why don't we get rid of those?"

That was my turn to look at him like he's sprouted horns. Those are STEPHEN KING hardbacks. Uh huh, ain't no way those are going.

There are so many books I have memories of reading or they are just so darned good, I'm not about to get rid of them. *cough* even when more come in, like now when I'm truly wondering where I'm going to put what I brought home.

When we moved 9 years ago, my brother in law and hubby's cousin helped us. They groused that I had "way too many books." Let's just say....I have a lot more now LOL.

My computer has tons of ebooks, too. Ones I need to read but it's hard when I sit down here at the keyboard not to be working. Yet, I keep buying more.

I see books, whether they be print or ebook and think, "Shiny."

For those of you who love books, how do you decide what to keep and what to give away? Maybe I need a system.

Mechele Armstrong aka Lany of Melany Logen
www.mechelearmstrong.com
www.melanylogen.com

Dangerous Ground

Today Dangerous Ground releases a week early from Loose Id. I freely admit the idea for this story came to me watching an episodes of the old British cop show The Professionals.


If you're not familiar with this show -- and you're probably not -- it's about two British special agents in a mythical law enforcement agency known as CI5. What I always liked about the show was the partnership -- and friendship -- between the two alpha male leads. I thought it would be fun for a change to write a romance between two alphas and see what happened.

What happened was Dangerous Ground, which is about Will Brandt and Taylor MacAllister, two Special Agents with the Department of Diplomatic Security who go on a camping trip in the High Sierras in the hopes of repairing their badly damaged partnership -- a partnership that started to unravel once Taylor admitted his feelings for Will were something more than professional.


Here's a brief excerpt:


They had instant black bean soup and the Mexican-style chicken for
dinner, and followed it up with the freeze dried ice cream and coffee.

"It's not bad," Taylor offered, breaking off a piece of ice cream and
popping it in his mouth.

Actually the ice cream wasn't that bad. It crunched when you put it
in your mouth, then dissolved immediately, but Will said, "What do
you know? You'll eat anything. If I didn't watch out you'd be eating
poison mushrooms or poison berries or poison oak."

Taylor grinned. It was true; he was a city boy through and through.
Will was the outdoors guy. He was the one who thought a week of
camping and hiking was what they needed to get back on track; Taylor
was humoring him by coming along on this trip. In fact, Will was
still a little surprised Taylor had agreed. Taylor's idea of vacation
time well-spent was on the water and in the sun: renting a house
boat — like they had last summer -- or deep sea fishing — which
Taylor had done on his own the year before.

"They never did arrest anyone in connection with that heist, did
they?" Taylor said thoughtfully, after a few more minutes of
companionable chewing.

"What heist?"

Taylor threw him an impatient look. "The robbery at the Black Wolf
Casino."

"Oh. Not that I heard. I wasn't really following it." Taylor had a
brain like a computer when it came to crimes and unsolved mysteries.
When Will wasn't working, which granted was rarely, the last thing he
wanted to do was think about crooks and crime — especially the ones
that had nothing to do with them.

But Taylor was shaking his head like Will was truly a lost cause, so
he volunteered, "There was something about the croupier, right? She
was questioned a couple of times."

"Yeah. Questioned but never charged." He shivered.

Will frowned. "You all right?"

"Jesus, will you give it a rest!" And just like that, Taylor was
unsmiling, stone-faced and hostile.

There was a short sharp silence. "Christ, you can be an unpleasant
bastard," Will said evenly, finally. He threw the last of his foil
wrapped ice cream in the fire, and the flames jumped, sparks shooting
up with bits of blackened foil.

Taylor said tersely, "You want a more pleasant bastard for a partner,
say the word."

The instant aggression caught Will off-guard. Where the hell had it
come from? "No, I don't want someone more pleasant," he said. "I
don't want a new partner."

Taylor stared at the fire. "Maybe I do," he said quietly.

Will stared at him. He felt like he'd been sucker-punched. Dopey and…
off-kilter.

"Why'd you say that?" he asked finally into the raw silence between
them.

He saw Taylor's throat move, saw him swallowing hard, and he
understood that although Taylor had spoken on impulse, he meant it —
and that he was absorbing that truth even as Will was.

"We're good together," Will said, not giving Taylor time to answer —
afraid that if Taylor put it into words they wouldn't be able to go
back from it. "We're…the best. Partners and friends."

He realized he was gripping his coffee cup so hard he was about to
break the plastic.

Taylor said, his voice low but steady, "Yeah. We are. But...it might
be better for both of us if we were re-teamed."

"Better for you, you mean?"

Taylor met his eyes. "Yeah. Better for me."

And now Will was getting angry. It took him a moment to recognize the
symptoms because he wasn't a guy who got mad easily or often — and
never at Taylor. Exasperated, maybe. Disapproving sometimes, yeah.
But angry? Not with Taylor. Not even for getting himself shot like a
goddamned wet-behind-the-ears recruit. But that pricking flush
beneath his skin, that pounding in his temples, that rush of
adrenaline — that was anger. And it was all for Taylor.

Will threw his cup away and stood up — aware that Taylor tensed.
Which made him even madder — and Will was plenty mad already. "Oh, I
get it," he said. "This is payback. This is you getting your own
back — holding the partnership hostage to your hurt ego. This is all
because I won't sleep with you, isn't it? That's what it's really
about."

And Taylor said in that same infuriatingly even tone, "If that's what
you want to think, go ahead."

Right. Taylor: the guy who jumped first and thought second — if at
all — who couldn't stop shooting his mouth off if his life depended
on it — who thought three months equaled the love of a lifetime —
suddenly he was Mr. Cool and Reasonable. What a goddamn laugh. Mr.
Wounded Dignity sitting there staring at Will with those wide, bleak
eyes.

"What am I supposed to think?" Will asked, and it took effort to keep
his voice as level as Taylor's. "That you're in love? We both know
what this is about, and it ain't love, buddy boy. You just can't
handle the fact that anyone could turn you down."

"Fuck you," Taylor said, abandoning the cool and reasonable thing.

"My point exactly," Will shot back. "And you know what? Fine. If
that's what I have to do to hold this team together, fine. Let's
fuck. Let's get it out of the way once and for all. If that's your
price, then okay. I'm more than willing to take one for the team — or
am I supposed to do you? Whichever is fine by me because unlike you,
MacAllister, I —"

With an inarticulate sound, Taylor launched himself at Will, and
Will, unprepared, fell back over the log he'd been sitting on, head
ringing from Taylor's fist connecting with his jaw. This was rage,
not passion, although for one bewildered instant Will's body
processed the feel of Taylor's whip-thin muscular length landing on
top of his own body as a good thing — a very good thing.

This was followed by the very bad thing of Taylor trying to knee him
in the guts — which sent a new and more clear message to Will's mind
and body.

And there was nothing Will would have loved more than to let go and
pulverize Taylor, to take him apart, piece by piece, but he didn't
forget for an instant — even if Taylor did — how physically
vulnerable Taylor still was; so his effort went into keeping Taylor
from injuring himself — which was not easy to do wriggling and
rolling around on the uneven ground. Even at seventy five percent,
Taylor was a significant threat, and Will took a few hits before he
managed to wind his arms around the other man's torso, yanking him
into a sitting position facing Will, and immobilizing him in a
butterfly lock.

Taylor tried a couple of heaves, but he had tired fast. Will was the
better wrestler anyway, being taller, broader, and heavier. Taylor
relied on speed and surprise; he went in for all kinds of esoteric
martial arts, which was fine unless someone like Will got him on the
ground. Taylor was usually too smart to let that happen, which just
went to show how furious he was.

Will could feel that fury still shaking Taylor — locked in this ugly
parody of a lover's embrace. He shook with exhaustion too, breath
shuddering in his lungs as he panted into Will's shoulder. His wind
was shit these days, his heart banging frantically against Will's.
These marks of physical distress undermined Will's own anger,
reminding him how recently he had almost lost Taylor for good.

Taylor's moist breath against Will's ear was sending a confusingly
erotic message, his body hot and sweaty — but Christ he was thin.
Will could feel — could practically count — ribs, the hard links of
spine, the ridges of scapula in Taylor's fleshless back. And it
scared him; his hold changing instinctively from lock to hug.

"You crazy bastard," he muttered into Taylor's hair.

Taylor struggled again, and this time Will let him go. Taylor got up,
not looking at Will, not speaking, walking unsteadily, but with a
peculiar dignity, over to the tent.

Watching him, Will opened his mouth, then shut it. Why the hell would
he apologize? Taylor had jumped him. He watched, scowling, as Taylor
crawled inside the tent, rolled out his sleeping back onto the air
mattress Will had remembered to set up for him, pulled his boots off,
and climbed into the bag, pulling the flap over his head — like
something going back into its shell.

This is stupid, Will thought. We neither of us want this. But what he
said was, "Sweet dreams to you too."

Taylor said nothing.


Today at Loose Id.

The Woman

Settler's Mine 3: The Woman released from Loose Id today. It was a challenge to bring these reluctant mates together. And I'm so excited to see it releasing. I'll share an excerpt below the more.

“You don’t save us by leaving us.” Jax folded his arms across his chest.

“Don’t leave us.” Tam’s voice took on a pleading note.

“You don’t even want me. You’re not sure about being with me. Why are you doing this?” She could have stomped her feet in frustration. They had to see reason. But even logical Jax wasn’t using his logic.

He leaned in to run a hand down her cheek and neck. Her skin sparked under his hand. Molten iron dripped onto her skin from his touch. Never had she thought touch would be this way. “Honestly, I don’t know what I want. I’ve never felt this way about a woman. I’ll make mistakes, but I have to see where being mated to you leads.” He sidled up to her. “Won’t you see where it leads with me?”

Pretty words, but the road would be hard for them all. Could she subject them to peril? Or would leaving them be more difficult than she’d ever thought? “Mates are a lifetime commitment.” A wrong decision could kill them all. But a part of her wanted to be with them beyond measure. They offered her normalcy. They offered her touch, both with their bodies and with their feelings. They offered companionship. Such things she hadn’t had in a long time. All the things she’d longed for stood in front of her in these two men. How unfair was that?

“We’ll see where this leads for now. Worry about the lifetime later.” Tam was suddenly there and leaned in for a light press of his lips to hers. “Take things one step at a time. But we have to take that first step.”

Jax still stood beside her. “Together.”

Her lips tingled from where Tam had touched them. “You two aren’t going to let me go, are you?” No one had ever cared about her. Not since her parents. It made it hard to walk away from them. Why should she leave what she most wanted in the galaxy?

“Not on your life.” Tam chuckled. “And we’re both pretty stubborn, if you can believe that.”

She could. “Are you sure about all this? Because being with me won’t be easy. It will be risky.”

Nods. From them both.

Their surety helped to drive out her doubt. How could she not believe in them with their eyes honestly brimming in front of her?

“Okay. I guess we’re in this together.”

Tam laughed and grabbed her around the waist. He swung her around, taking her feet from the floor. “I knew you’d agree.” His mouth latched onto hers in a punishing kiss. A kiss that stole her very breath.

She panted as he broke the kiss. She’d had no idea what an embrace could do to her. He tasted so good, felt so good against her body.

Jax came up behind them, pressing his body against her back. His erection stroked her butt, pushing into her. To know, even as unsure as he was, that he still wanted her, stoked her fires despite her words.

She was sandwiched between them. Funny how that kept coming up. Being between them that is. A standard ménage sexual position.

Jax pushed her hair to the side to press kisses along her neck. Her skin tingled with awareness.

Tam guided them all to the bed.

She arched a brow. “What are you doing?”

“Celebrating.” He smiled, and she went weak in the knees. “We have to celebrate our mating. Celebrate our togetherness.”

She didn’t turn, but asked Jax, “Are you ready for this?” She didn’t want to push him faster than he wanted to go.

He stiffened against her. And not his hard cock, either. “I… We should celebrate.” His voice didn’t sound thrilled, but did sound serious.

Not exactly a grand endorsement or an outright yes, but right now, she’d take what she could get.

.

Threesomes: Competition and Bonding

One of the most entertaining things about spring in Wisconsin is watching male cardinals fly at each other, vying for the same territory. Recently, on one of the author loops (may even have been the Loose Id loop, though I’m not certain) someone commented that m/f/m ménage stories perplexed her, given the potential for jealousy and competition between the men.

I’ve seen a few different takes on m/f/m ménages. In Lora Leigh’s Tanner’s Scheme, there’s discussion of the hero’s past sexual excesses, “double teaming” women with his twin brother. For the brothers, sharing a woman serves as a bonding experience. Taking this premise a step further, I’ve also read stories where the men’s love of one woman serves as an excuse for homo-erotic contact. The example that springs to mind is the way some authors handle the love triangle between Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot.

I’m currently reading Eric Jerome Dickey’s Pleasure, in which twin brothers enter into a three-way with the heroine as part of their inclination to compete. An extension of their sibling rivalry, each trying to outdo the other. In short, male cardinals ruffling their wing feathers.

No discussion of the possibilities of m/f/m trios would be complete without mentioning one of my all time favorites, Emma Holly. In her Ménage, the men share a preexisting relationship. The threesome unfolds with a wealth of affection and a minimum of competition, even though the bisexual member of the trio eventually pairs off with the heroine.

And then there’s my own take on the subject of m/f/m ménages. In Nature’s Pentacle, I create a world of witches who are drawn to each others’ power like moths to flame. Competition is an issue from the start (powerful witches seldom play well with others), as are jealousy and insecurity. But with a twist. Lena and Kenji are the ones competing (my heroine and the second man in the trio) rather than Kenji and Matt. Through forced proximity and a crucible of adverse events, the three witches resort to the ménage to balance their power. The bond they form serves as a source of strength, and the sex is wild.

Whichever way you cut it, ménages not only heat up a plot, they often drive it. Let’s hear from you now. Have any favorite ménage scenarios from fiction? How do you feel about the rarer f/m/f stories? When three people get it on, is it about competition for you, or do you prefer a male bonding scenario? Or maybe a little three way bondage…

Happy reading!

Eden Rivers
www.edenrivers.com
http://edenrivers.blogspot.com

Author Interview: Josh Lanyon

Author Name: Josh Lanyon

Year started writing for LI: Spring 2006

Titles: The Dark Horse, The Adrien English Mysteries, The Hell You Say, Partners in Crime, Dangerous Ground

Web Page: http://www.joshlanyon.com

What genre do you write in, and why? : I’m strictly GLBT or M/M romantic-suspense or mystery-romance. I write GLBT for a number of reasons – yep, it’s a deliberate choice (I could be – and have been -- more commercially successful by writing mysteries with straight or heterosexual protagonists) and, yes, I do have a political and social agenda. The key is to never push that agenda down a reader’s throat; to inform and educate and persuade by telling entertaining and moving stories of mystery and romance between men.

How much time do you spend writing every week? : I’m a full-time writer. Between writing and the business of writing, I put in about sixty to seventy hours a week. I’m a little obsessive, but that’s what happens when you’re self-employed. It helps that I love what I do – even when I’m cross-eyed and incoherent with exhaustion.

What was the first story you ever wrote about? (not nec. first published story) : The first story I’m aware of writing was this thing about clouds in the third grade. I don’t remember the details (maybe I’ve blocked them out as too dreadful to remember), but I remember my teacher telling me that I would be a writer when I grew up.

How do you judge the effectiveness of the sensual scenes in your stories? :
By my own physical response to what I write (as well as my response – or lack of response – to what others write). I know what turns me on, and I try to capture that for readers. Also, I pay attention to what my core readership has to say. But the thing is, I’m probably more frugal with my sex scenes than the typical Loose Id writer. I’m a believer in the Less is More theory. Fewer scenes but greater emotional impact.

Do you ever try out the sexual positions you write to make sure of accuracy? :
Jeez. What are you ladies writing that you can’t picture it in your minds? Ah, I get it. It’s just an excuse to have more sex with your partners: that’s a GREAT idea!

Ever been told, Um...sweetie, that's not how it works? :
Well, no. What kind of men are you sleeping with? Oh, you mean for your writing? No.

What one word best describes your toy collection? :
Uh…vintage?

Favourite candy while writing? :
Sees. Dark chocolates – assorted nuts and creams.

Where did your most unusual plot idea come from? :
Here’s my little trick. I don’t write unusual plots – although my stories are plot-intensive. I write tried and true basic mystery and romantic-suspense. I depend on my characters and my “voice” to make my stories unique and memorable. So, actually, the more corny and time-worn the plot, the more fun it is to me. Granted, not every reader and reviewer gets the joke, but most do, and I have to amuse myself too when I write. I like the challenge of taking something old and making it new again.

What inspires you to write? : Good writing, bad writing, music, movies, rain… You know, I write all the time so it’s hard to say what my trigger is. Opening my eyes in the morning?

What music inspires your writing? : I’m very eclectic in my musical taste. I think dark minor and harmonic chords evoke an emotional response from me – and that makes me want to write.

Plotter or a Panster? : Depends on the length of the work. For novellas, no outline necessary. For novel-length work, I outline, although the outline changes as I go. That’s because writing is an organic process. And of course I sell off of proposals, which means you need an outline and/or synopsis.

What is your most embarrassing moment as an erotic romance author? : Interesting question. I think it was – maybe still is – a little difficult to go from being known as a mystery writer to being known as an erotic-mystery writer. For some reason adding sex into your stories puts you in a different category for many readers, reviewers, publishers. It weakens your credibility as a story-teller. That shouldn’t be true, but it is.

Most challenging place you've ever written a spicy scene? :
The dentist’s office

When you get stuck, how do you find your way back to the writing? :
It depends. Actually, I talk a lot about this and other writing quandaries in MAN, OH MAN: Writing M/M Fiction for Kinks and Ca$h. It’s a writing book aimed specifically at women (and men) targeting the M/M and GLBT market. The book is due out at the end of February through MLR Press.

The Personal stuff:

Any outrageous liaisons in your past? Of course!

Where's the most unusual place you ever managed to have sex? :
An Irish music festival

What was the most romantic meal you've eaten? :
Oatmeal. You had to be there.

What kind of books do you read for fun? :
Mysteries.

Soulmates? Do you believe? :
Yes.

Sex with anyone famous? :
Myself?

Can you read my mind?

And would you want to? In BLAME IT ON THE MOON, Kitty comes by her mind reading gift through a freak accident, and it causes some interesting dilemmas when Haden starts stripping her naked mentally. But would you want this to happen to you? Would you want to read your significant other's every thought?

Say, for example, that your hubby's thinking about sex and you are so not in the mood--you'd know to claim a headache asap before things got uncomfortable. But what if you ask him if you look fat in your jeans? A good hubby knows the proper answer is "no, you look great in your jeans!" This makes for a good marriage. But what if he's really thinking "You were so much thinner when I married you--why can't you drop a few pounds?" Grounds for a divorce right there.

Who needs that?

Reading minds allows Kitty to help her customers more quickly and gives her lots of blackmail fodder, creating the ethical dilemma of how to use the information she gains. Mind reading in the wrong hands...er, brain...blackmail, cheating on tests, corporate espionage. Maybe it's a gift we weren't meant to have. We're already bombarded with so much extraneous information from the TV and the internet. Would all the outside thoughts just merge into white noise? Could we tune it out if we chose?

It certainly gives added texture to Kitty's love scenes with Haden. His passionate thoughts, her emotions. Who needs foreplay, baby?

Shara

http://www.sharalanel.com/

The Eyes Have It

"Dammit!" Dr. Raoul Martinque’s eyes spat fire.


Unless you’re penning Fantasy, Horror, or Alternate Universe, you should never write anything about someone’s eyes spitting fire.

Or shooting icicles.

Or turning to liquid pools.

Or dropping to the floor, or flying to someone else’s face, or flashing, snapping, crackling or popping.

Well, maybe I’ll give you popping. Because sometimes people’s eyes really do seem to pop open. That one’s arguable. But I’ve never seen anyone’s eyes spit fire or shoot icicles -- or even daggers.

Granted, I know what you mean by these descriptive phrases -- I think we all know what you mean -- but this is beyond cliché, this is just plain old bad writing. So why do inexperienced writers (and a few hacks) keep latching on to them?

Well, partly because these kinds of descriptives used to be popular in the days of pulp fiction -- and, unfortunately, are still popular in the kind of romance fiction that gives romance writers a bad name.

By the way, for a really entertaining, and ultimately instructive book on writing, get hold of a copy of GUN IN CHEEK by Bill Pronzini. It’s one of the funniest things I ever read.

Also these phrases have a primitive effectiveness about them. We understand what the writer means by “eyes spitting fire.” We know it’s not meant to be taken literally, and people’s expressions do change when they’re angry or affectionate or amorous. Good writing is precise writing, so it’s natural to want to capture these expressions and emotions.

I think there’s a lot of truth to the idea of eyes being the window to the soul; you can read a person pretty accurately when you’re able to look her in the face. Which is one reason why eyes are so important in writing romance -- if someone meets someone else’s eyes, it should signify A Moment. It shouldn’t be there just because the author thought it was time to throw in some stage business.

Eyes narrow, they widen, and…I’m going to regret saying this, I bet…they do sometimes seem to darken, lighten, even…uh…sparkle. They don’t really sparkle, but writing is a delicate balance between realism and symbolism. So to an extent readers understand that characters in romance novels have sapphire eyes or emerald eyes or even topaz, silver, golden, or jade eyes that sparkle -- all of which I personally really, really hate, but here I know I’m outvoted by many romance readers who like these artistic liberties. In fact, these descriptions seem to function like code. Which means they’re a useful shorthand between author and reader.

And even I have to admit that there are people who have a certain glint or shine in their eyes -- a liveliness that for lack of better word could be called “sparkle.”

My personal thought is you should always try to capture the physical reality of what you’re trying to describe. Faces tighten with anger, they soften with tenderness, brows draw together in thought -- these are clichés too, but they more accurately capture the physical possibilities of the human face. You can get away with a bit of this if you use it sparingly.


What you want to do, if possible, is describe things in fresh ways, but there’s a limit. You can strain a metaphor too far, and any description that brings the reader up short, is not effective. Anything that yanks the reader out of the story, makes her or him go…huh? Or, worse, laugh, is a mistake. You want the reader in the moment with you -- with the characters. Not squinching his own face in an effort to figure out whether something is anatomically possible.

Now where you can get away with using some of these hokey descriptives is if they show up in the internal dialog or thoughts of your POV character. A certain smart-ass tone of voice allows for observations that in flat narrative would be cliché, but in that character’s head become “voice.”

The point of writing romance is…it’s supposed to be romantic. So you have a certain amount of artistic license. Use discretion. Use moderation. Use common sense. Don’t make me flash my eyes at you.