Eternity and a Day Sneak Peak

Writing Status - Edits
Mood - Blech
Playing on itunes - In this Twilight by Nine Inch Nails

Since I'm editing Eternity, I figured I'd share a bit of what I'm working on. Interested? Read on!

Eternity and a Day Blurb (Unofficial):

A Draigen consumed by longing…

Dreading the one night per tide in which he’s forced to travel between the realms, Draigen Eric Locke has only one desire on Samhain, to retrieve the fae guilty of transporting daemon relics through the realms and escort her to the Unseelie Dark Court to face the sidhe King. But when he mistakenly recovers the wrong fae, the dragon under his skin responds in a way he never could have predicted, and he soon discovers he’s found the woman destined to him by the Fates – his Chosen.

A Fae that’s never known pleasure…

Runa Charon is an anomaly among her kind, the mortal offspring of a human and a fae. Unlike her fellow sidhe, she longs to experience pleasure instead of pain, love instead of lust. Immortally strong but mortally fragile, she’s been sheltered all of her life, existing in a gilded cage. When the opportunity to meet a Draigen from the Otherworld arises, she can’t resist the temptation and travels on Samhain to meet the man that will change her destiny.

A love to last a lifetime…

Unlike other netherworld creatures, Draigen mate for life, choosing to follow the path of their beloved mate in this reality or the next. Knowing a future together can only span one lifetime, will they settle for less than an eternity? Or will they be grateful for the gift of each day?

Excerpt:

A hand grasped her shoulder, and she cried out in alarm. She pivoted on her heel and cursed at her lack of awareness. One lapse in judgment, one miniscule second of time, was all it would take for someone to cut her throat.

She was sidhe, after all, mortal or no.

Swinging her corresponding arm under and out, she rotated in a circle to sever the contact, and the hand vanished. The hood of her cloak dislodged from her head, and the soft red material pooled around her shoulders. She couldn’t help but gawk at the Draigen standing directly in front of her. He was so massive and enormous that he blocked the entire space behind him from sight.

Blessed Fates, he must be seven feet tall.

Form-fitted dark leather pants molded seamlessly to his thick muscular legs; the same material clung to his impossibly broad shoulders, wide chest, and narrow waist. The matching leather coat he wore over his clothing made him look sinister and dark yet intriguing.

Her heart fluttered as her eyes swept over his face. She was relieved to discover he had no scales or blemishes. His skin was perfectly smooth and flawless, with a golden complexion much darker than her ivory pigmentation. The black hair cascading around his face radiated blue. The thick strands brushed his shoulders.

She froze and gasped when she met his eyes. Sweet heavenly Moirae.

His deep hunter green irises were framed by dark lashes that matched his oddly tinted hair, completing a face that outshone the beauty of any fae kind she had ever encountered.

A wicked lick of heat swept through her body, and she took a cautionary step back. Averting her eyes, she shook her head. She did not want to draw him in accidentally with glamour, and she didn’t need her sensual nature rushing to the surface to cloud her judgment.

“Octavia Charon?” His deep, rich voice carried a hint of the olde accent Runa had always been attracted to…

She attempted to respond and found herself nodding like a mindless twit -- mortified, dumbed down, and embarrassed. Her reaction to this stranger, this netherworlder, was totally tantalizing and unexpected.

Had she bespelled herself? Was that it? Or did he possess glamour of his own?

Is that even possible?

“You are not as I was told.”

“And what were you told?” She could only imagine the exploits he had heard about Octavia. God help him.

“I was explicitly forewarned you would never deem to show yourself here, even as your word had been freely incurred.”

Runa peered up at him, and his irises shifted from forest green to a brilliant reptilian emerald. His gaze drifted back and forth between hers, and a rush of blistering heat burned through her bloodstream, causing her skin to tingle. She tore her eyes away and focused on a small black stain in the floor. Her body throbbed and pulsed in all sorts of dangerous places. Places that would bring her to her knees before him. Places that could potentially bring forth what she feared in others of her kind.

Places best left alone.

“To be told you would not emerge, yet here you stand. Why did you come?” His voice was like the richest satiny velvet. The extended vowels bristled along her spine.

Runa tried to keep her voice even, grappling for an answer, any answer. “I wanted to meet a Draigen.” She ground her teeth together as she lost her train of thought, frustrated by her sudden inanity. “Since your kind doesn’t venture to our dimension, this is the only opportunity I would have to meet one such as yourself.”

She chanced another look. He appeared legitimately dumbfounded. A frown formed, nearly marring the perfection of his face. He seemed to be struggling with two very different emotions.

Confusion and…

She froze.

Holy light, he was positively furious.

“Listen” -- she shifted to the left, her intense desire to get the hell away from this dangerous being overriding her curiosity -- “this is getting too weird. I only wanted to warn you not to spend too much time waiting around. My sister isn’t the most reliable person, and does this kind of shit all the time.”

She kept her eyes on him as she moved along the wall, just in case she needed to break into a sprint or get the hell out of dodge. He looked like he wanted to devour her completely and not entirely in a manner she would appreciate.

A deep growl erupted from his chest, and she blurted, “I wish you a swift journey home. I can’t stay. I have to go.”

He moved faster than she would ever have given someone of his size credit for. Grasping her arms in massive hands, he lifted her from the ground in a singular movement that she did not anticipate. He leaned down as he drew her body upward, bringing her face to his descending one. Emerald eyes glowered at her, and she knew two things with absolute certainty.

He definitely did not want to eat her in the manner she would approve of, and she was pretty damned sure he was going to kill her.

Dreaming of Writing

Writing Status - Edits
Mood - Agitated
Playing on itunes - The Wretched by Nine Inch Nails

For the rest of the week, I'll be working hard on Eternity edits. So if you don't see me around, I'm in the cave, reconstructing and smoothing out things. I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but I've managed to convince myself that:

A. I am the writer here and...
B. The story will do as I want, even if it has to change.

Then there is the Crimson Sunrise news -- the first test read was a thumbs up. Now, we're waiting for the second reader's okay. If it's a go, there will be heavy edits (these I anticipated), and that means my writing will be forced to the backseat again.

I was complaining to my husband last night that I never have time to write anymore. Between edits, promo, etc, I just can't find the time. It's incredibly frustrating. I have so many ideas going through my head, and until I start clearing them away, it will only get worse. Right now, I have three stories stewing in the brain and eight WIP's. That's enough voices and envisioned "scenes" to drive anyone insane.

On a more happy note: Dead got an amazing 4/5 star review at Darkly Reading that you can read HERE. I'm so pleased by the tour and the amount of word-of-mouth my visit at Parajunkie's View generated. As I follow them on Twitter, I can see the "I want to Read" shout outs. Knowing someone wants to read your story enough to tweet the title of it to the world...crazy.

Still Work To Be Done

Writing Status - Plan to write at least 1.5 - 2k today
Mood - Tired
Playing on itunes - Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand

So...my first paperback copy of Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between arrived (I was too impatient to wait on the shipment and ordered a lone copy from Amazon). It's surreal, holding it in my hand. I can still remember walking into the living room and telling my husband, "I think I'm going to write about a bartender who works in a strip club, lives in New York, and sees dead people". Doesn't seem all that long ago, and truth be told, I never imagined it would ever be shared with anyone. Crimson Moon had been wrapped up a couple of weeks when the itch started again, and I knew I had to let the muse go and write.

But, to be entirely truthful, writing was so different then.

I wrote solely for pleasure. There was no stress, no pressure. It truly was writing from the heart (something I can say that is only true for my first offerings: Crimson Moon, Dead, Eternity and a Day, and A Kiss Before Dying). There was never any intention of submitting the material or seeking publication. I wrote the stories, cleaned them up after a month, printed them out, and put them in binders on my bookshelf.

So to hold a copy of the book that people can purchase (while knowing I will soon do the same with Crimson Moon), it's very strange. It's a great thing, but kind of out-of-body if you know what I mean. I don't think it hit that I'm a "writer" until I felt the weight of the bound material in my hand, saw the dedication, and skimmed over the story I created.

Anyhow, enough of that.

I'm going to write a blog about my virtual tour experience this week, as well as do another Sunshine Award thanks to the lovely A.F. Stewart (I didn't forget you!). Things should be returning to normal. Aside from trying to get my local library and bookstores to carry my books (another story all together) it's back to writing for me.

Hope you all have a fantastic Sunday!

Winner of the $10 GC from Amazon.com!

Writing Status - Nada
Mood - Exhausted
Playing on ipod - Major Tom by Shiny Toy Guns

Talk about a wild week! Between the yahoo virus, the tour, and various other necessary promo, I am beat! It's been insane, and I can honestly say I wasn't entirely prepared for it.

But you're not here for that, you want to know who won the $10 giftcard!

Without further ado, the name drawn from the hat is...

Joder, who visited Parajunkie's View!! Congrats! I'll be contacting Joder shortly and passing along the GC. ;-)

Throwdown

I woke up this morning to a Google Alert that is SO FREAKING COOL!!

Throwdown Thursday at All Things Urban Fantasy has the Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between cover against their banner. The winner is determined by the commenter's. Drop on by and take a look.

Also, the first review of Dead is in! Drop by Anna's Book Blog to check it out!

(And don't forget to see the where I am on the tour just below!)

Amber Scott Project (and Paperbacks are here!)

First -- Dead is now available in print!! I'm so very excited. You can purchase a copy by visiting Amazon.com HERE.

Today, I'm visiting Amber Scott Project, answering some questions and shooting the breeze. She's a ton of fun to chat with, and we'd love to gab with you if you get the chance.

Only one more stop left on the tour, can you believe it? The support I've received has been so humbling and grounding. I could never do any of this without all of you. The encouragement means so much, to the point that I tell all of my friends and family just how important the people I've met along the way are. From those who graciously reviewed my stories when I was just starting out, to those who stopped by, said hello, and welcomed me into such a warm and caring circle of authors and readers.

Thanks to each and every single one of you for making time for me and for helping me promote this story. I don't know what I've done to deserve all of you, but I sure as hell appreciate each and every one of you.

Double Tour Stop!

Can you believe it? Only three days are left on the tour!

Today, I'm visiting two fantastic blogs!! I know it's a lot to ask, but if you get a chance, I'd love it if you could drop by and say hello!

The first blog I'm stopping by is the home of the wonderful author Marianne Arkins. I'm discussing the choice to make blood my drug of choice in Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between. Come by, say hi, and share how you come up with your ideas! The second blog is the lair of the sensual and saucy Wendi Zwaduk! She's asking me some super-fun questions, and it's sure to be a blast!

Don't forget: I'm entering names each time you comment (per blog) so your chances increase if you drop by and say hello at each stop. And I know I've said this before, but thanks for making this tour so freaking amazing. I owe all of you, big-time. ;-)

As a side note, I just ordered paperback copies of Dead from the press, so I'm extremely excited!!! I've spoken with the fabastic Fiction Vixen about visiting her blog after she reads and reviews my story and I will be giving away an autographed copy to a random commenter. More details will be coming soon, so keep checking back!

Raz Lover's Book Blog

Today I'm visiting Raz Lover's Book Blog! Drop by and visit while I answer some questions and give you some insight into my process, my life, and a few other things you might find interesting.

Thanks for all the support thus far. The tour has been amazing!

Ten Questions with Rebecca J. Clark

Everyone, please help me welcome the marvelous Rebecca J. Clark to the blog! She's promoting her fabtastic story, Borrowed Stilettos, and was gracious enough to answer Ten Questions!

Without further ado, welcome Rebecca!

What is your favorite beverage when you write?

Something hot. I drink a lot of coffee and green tea. When writing steamy love scenes, however, a good red wine is nice.

What is your favorite font to write in?

Anything but Courier. When I read that font, everything I write sounds like a bad rough draft. If I change it to Century Schoolbook (my favorite), the same words miraculously morph into something readable.

What music do you listen to when you write (or do you prefer it quiet)?

My preference is quiet. If I do listen to music, it can’t have any lyrics.

When it comes to those all important jotted notes, which is it – composition pads or sticky notes?

Composition pads. I’ve tried using sticky notes, but they end up stuck all over my house. I once found one stuck to the bottom of my purse while grocery shopping.

What’s your favorite snack when pounding away at the keyboard?

I try not to eat while I’m writing, because it would be way too easy to snarf away 100s of calories. If I was eating something like broccoli or baby carrots, it wouldn’t be an issue.

What inspires you when you write?

I use an online timer or Write or Die. There’s nothing like a ticking clock to make my fingers start flying across the keyboard.

What do you turn to when you stumble across a road block in the creative process and need to regroup?

I do several things. Taking a long walk outside always helps, as does reading a fiction book outside the genre I write in. Sometimes, I’ll switch gears and work on a different project, because the other projects are always way more interesting than my WIP.

Where do the ideas and concepts for your work come from?

Anywhere and everywhere.

What do you wish there was more of in the market?

I wish there were more straight contemporary romances. I enjoy a good paranormal every now and then, but it seems like every new release these days is a vampire/shifter/werewolf/demon/apocalypse story.

Lastly, what advice would you give to an up and coming writer that hopes to submit their work and become published in the future?

Focus more on the writing and the craft of writing than the business and promo aspects at this point. And don’t ever, EVER give up. If you give up today, you’ll never know if tomorrow was your big break.

Great answers, Rebecca. ;-) Tell us where we can find you on the web. Or share any upcoming projects with us!

Find me on the web at www.RebeccaJClark.com, www.shywriters.blogspot.com, www.Facebook.com/rebeccajclark.author

Now, for a preview of Borrowed Stilettos (which is on my TBR list as we speak!).

Borrowed Stilettos Blurb:

It's a classic case of mistaken identity...only this time, it's no mistake.

Mild-mannered teacher Audrey Thompson dresses as her flamboyant but cowardly twin in order to break up with her sister's fiance, Zach Banister. Before she can do the dirty deed, she starts to fall for him herself. Her plan goes hilariously and seductively awry, as things tend to do when you're stuffing your bra and borrowing your sister's stilettos. Little does Audrey realize, however, Zach is also playing a game and has his own agenda.

Borrowed Stilettos Excerpt:

Well. It was now or never. Adrenaline blasted through her veins, heating her skin. Taking a deep breath of courage, she navigated the first step downward while holding the banister for support. Her ankle wobbled on the four-inch heel. She took another step. This time, she swayed precariously. Her head swam with visions of being splayed out like road kill on the Banister slate.

The threesome below turned her way.

“Ava,” Zach greeted with a smile in his voice. Its deep tone echoed the answering quiver in her belly. She imagined what her name would sound like rolling off his tongue. She froze on the second step from the top, afraid to move. Who in their right mind would ever install hardwood stairs? Nerves rattled around her gut like coins in an empty soda can.

“Darling, we were just talking about you,” he said, moving toward the bottom of the staircase.

Darling? Oh, crap. How was she supposed to break up with a man who called her ‘darling’ in such a sexy way?

“Come down here, and I’ll introduce you.”

Judging from the hostile postures of the women, Audrey decided she’d rather have a root canal. She hoped they couldn’t see up her skirt from their lower vantage point. She said a silent prayer of thanks she hadn’t taken her sister’s advice and was, in fact, wearing panties. Could she call a thong “panties”?

Thanks for stopping by the blog, Rebecca! I apologize for my tardiness! Everyone, give her an extra special warm welcome! ;-)

Parajunkie's View

Today I'm discussing creating my stories over at Parajunkie's View, a super cool blog that has all the latest news on what's happening in the paranormal book world. If you get a chance, come on over and say hello!

On a side note -- if the winning name I draw when the tour is complete is someone who has commented more than three times (aka on more than one stop), I am bumping the GC up to $15. It's my way of saying thanks and showing my appreciation.

Hope to see you there!

Full Disclosure by Cari Quinn Review

Let me start by saying I've meant to do this for a long while now. I absolutely loved Full Disclosure, and had every intention on sharing my review of the deliciously naughty story with everyone. Due to interruptions, I just now had the opportunity to sit down, put it to paper, and share with all of you.

Without further ado...

When it comes to sizzling erotic romance, author extraordinaire Cari Quinn will leave you breathless. Her first offering, Full Disclosure, gives us a glimpse of what we can expect in what is sure to be an extremely successful future. With solid and well developed characters, a fast-paced and intriguing premise, and so much chemistry and sexual tension you’ll need an ice-cold shower and licensed masseuse to unwind, she leaves you hungry for one thing and one thing only – more.

Holly Burrows is a woman’s woman. From the moment she arrives on the page, she is a force to be reckoned with. Tired of seeking pleasure with her own hands and toys, she’s decided to be adventurous and registers on Hunk Du Jour, a website that specializes in men seeking “adult” encounters. A “cub” responds to her ad, but in this circumstance, age isn’t an issue. Recently divorced, Holly wants a man with stamina that will come to her without strings, and her would-be lover, Kent, seems to fit the bill perfectly. But before she can meet with Kent, she has a business meeting to attend to. When she arrives for lunch with her associate, Alex, and he comes on to her, she throws caution to the wind and accepts.

Two cubs in one afternoon? Who could possibly turn such an offer down?

Kent – AKA the man Holly has been conversing with through Hunk Du Jour – AKA her associate Alex Stryker – has wanted Holly for as long as he can remember. Months of preparation and steamy late night phone calls have driven him insane, and in an attempt to get to her before his alter-ego can, he meets Holly for lunch with more than business in mind. To his utter shock, she accepts his advances, and they agree to venture to his home to seal the deal. As the night unfolds and passions ignite, Alex knows he wants far more than one night in the arms of the woman of his dreams. However, it’s not as easy or as simple as confessing his feelings.

When Alex finally comes clean and tells Holly that he not only owns Hunk Du Jour, but he is the man she’s been conversing with for weeks under a false identity, will she be able to find it in her heart to forgive him? Can a future exist off the basis of a lie?

The answers are not entirely what you’d expect, which make Full Disclosure so much more than your average erotic romance. Ms. Quinn does a fantastic job of snaring the reader using every resource in her arsenal; including humor, sensuality, and pure, unbridled emotion. You’ll wriggle, you’ll squirm, you’ll laugh, and you’ll cry.

Full Disclosure is a sexual thrill ride erotica fans are sure to enjoy.

You can purchase a copy of Full Disclosure at The Wild Rose Press AKA Wilder Press by clicking HERE.

Book Marks and Tour Dates

Above is the front and back of my new book marks for Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between! Kim Richards, the owner of Damnation Books (who recently acquired Eternal Press), is going to have a booth at The Horrorfind Weekend in San Francisco. She's graciously offered to promo for me by stacking a few of these puppies at the convention, and I can't possibly thank her enough!

Today I'll be visiting A.F. Stewart's Blog, answering a few questions and talking about Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between. If you get a chance, drop in and say hello. I'm keeping tabs of each comment made (comments on each individual blog places your name into the hat -- so you can increase your chances of winning) and will be drawing one as soon as the tour is over for a $10 Amazon GC (or if you live outside of the US, I will mail a GC to you of your choosing, so long as I have access to the place).

On a sour note, I was forced to visit the Dr. today following a bought of sickness. The sinus infection I was suffering from worsened (spread from head to chest) and I had to get three shots, four prescriptions, and bed rest. So if you email me and I'm a bit slow to respond or act like a weirdo, that's why.

One more day 'til the weekend is here! Hope you all are doing well. I look forward to seeing all of you on tour!

My Reading Addiction Stop

Today the book tour makes a stop at My Reading Addiction. Please stop by, say hello, and join me as I answer some questions provided by my gracious host!!

See you there!

The Tour Continues!

Today I'm visiting The Space Snark Blog, discussing Getting Into Character. If you get a chance, drop on by and say hello!

This and That

Hello everyone!!! First -- thank you for voting for me again and making Lick Of Frost Book of the Week. You are the most amazing group of people, and your support is humbling.

And now for the "this and that" stuff. *smile*

The Dead tour is officially underway! Today I'm visiting The Cajun Book Lady Blog and answering a few questions. I'd really appreciate it if you could drop by and say hello. Tours are always draining, but the result is incredibly rewarding. I just have to remind myself of the bonuses versus the pitfalls.

Please forgive me, too, if I'm slow to respond to emails or blog stuff (I promise to get to your wonderful blog prize, Shelly) for the time being. I have edits on Eternity to wrap up by Friday, which means I'm going to be busy for a while!

Until then, baby girl and I have work to do!! Have a fantastic week. I'll be visiting everyone's blogs this morning!

Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between Release Day!!

It's finally here!! You can find me this morning (and late-afternoon) at The Eternal Press Reader's Loop!! Stop by and leave a comment to enter your name into the hat for a $10 GC to Amazon.com. I'll be sharing excerpts, answering questions, and trying to pretend I know what I'm doing!

Then, later in the evening, come say hello at the Eternal Press Live Chat. I'm very nervous about this, so friendly faces would be most welcome.

Can't wait to see you there!!

Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between Blurb:

One bad corpse can ruin your whole day. No one knows that better than Rhiannon Murphy.

She left behind the flash and sass of Miami for the no-nonsense groove of New York City, eager for a clean slate and a fresh start. A bartender by trade, a loud mouth by choice, and a necromancer by chance; she managed to keep her nifty talent hidden from those around her—until now.

The deliciously good-looking vampire, Disco, knows her secret. When he strolls into her bar to solicit help investigating the mysterious disappearances of his kind from the city, Rhiannon discovers he’s not the kind of person that appreciates the significance of the word no.

But in a world where vampires peddle their blood as the latest and greatest drug of choice, it’s only a matter of time before the next big thing hits the market. Someone or something is killing vampires to steal their hearts, and unlike Rhiannon, this isn’t their first stroll around the undead block.

Excerpt:

Rhiannon’s Law #27. When you’re working in a gentlemen’s club and one of your dancers takes off those heels, alert the big guns, an ass kicking is on the menu.

Lacey finished her set and started working the room. The flashing lights from the stage mixed with the saturated cigarette and cigar smoke to create a fog effect that surrounded her shoulders in a swirling vortex. Her body was slim and tan inside a white rhinestone bikini, full hips rotating from side to side like a broken linebacker as she prowled to a table with men in expensive business suits. She bent low, full red lips whispering huskily and plastic breasts straining provocatively. Perfect legs flexed as her spine tilted back, three-inch clear, plastic heels with gold fish floating inside giving added height and muscle tone.

Any good dancer knows how to work the clientele, and Lacey was a pro. She raked in a majority of the house take, and her regulars came from miles around just for a private. She was deceptively young looking, with long blonde hair and big baby-blue eyes, which were a huge part of her attraction. She would never reveal her age, but since I was on the welcoming committee—AKA the department of industrial relations—I was in the know. A twenty-two year old that looked illegal as hell.

The men ate that jailbait shit up with a spoon.

“How much for a lap dance, sweetheart?”

I glanced at the owner of the voice, and no surprise, he wasn’t anything special. Just another Joe Schmo dressed in his screw me best. If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that line, I could quit my blow hole job and retire, enjoying the good life without millions of assholes just like this one who thought they were so quick.

I waited. I knew what was coming next. That’s another perk of having asshole customers—predictability.

“I bet you get asked that question all the time.”

I gave my sweetest smile. The one that says “aw shucks” on the outside and a big huge “fuck you” on the inside.

Let’s see, genius. I’m a female, working inside a bar that just so happens to feature exotic dancers. I have all my teeth, a decent body of my own, and although I hit the big 2-5 recently, I could pass for years younger. Nope, no one would ever think to ask me that question. Who cares if I’m standing behind a bar peddling liquor? Those bottles could just be another part of my act.

I moved down the drunken assembly line. I had beers to refill, drinks to concoct, and other witty Casanovas with well-researched one-liner’s to endure.

Erica took the stage. Her tanned skin like leather, too dark and too fake, matching the breasts she purchased a decade before. My eyes stalked her as I refilled a request for Hennessey. Every exotic bar has a queen bitch, and Erica was ours. She lived to start drama, thrived on it. Her damage stemmed from the fact she was the oldest of our dancers and passed her prime a few years ago.

Stripping is not a fair or unbiased career field. Your body and looks are your livelihood. Once those two things go, it’s only a matter of time before you punch your last T&A ticket. And Erica’s stub was wilting faster than a golden wrapped candy bar that would gain her admittance into the chocolate factory.

“How much for a lap dance, sweetheart?” a familiar voice mocked.

I didn’t have to look up. I would know that silky baritone anywhere.

“Not now, Disco.” My eyes tracked Erica as her number finished and she eased over to Lacey’s table. I concentrated on their body language, focusing on her face, paying close attention.

“Bad night?” he asked, peering over his shoulder.

I took a passing glance while he was distracted. He was dressed from head to toe in black, like every other night. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The color complimented him.

“Not yet,” I answered in my usual wait and see voice.

Lacey and Erica came face to face and began talking quietly. So far, so good—shoes on and voices low. Maybe I was wrong, maybe it wouldn’t be one of those nights.

Please God, make it so.

The Countdown Begins...

Writing Status - Starting Soon
Mood - Tired
Playing on itunes - Within You by David Bowie

Two days until Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between releases. It's exciting, yet, incredibly draining. In preparation for the big day, I'm having to procure gift cards (more on that below, keep reading), make sure I have loop promo's done beforehand (if you're new to release day, you'll soon learn that keeping a word file with the HTML is invaluable), and do a run-down of the "big day". I have several things going on this weekend, and release day comes at a very bad time.

Now, onto that gift card news. I'll be giving away a $10 gift certificate to Amazon.com to a randomly drawn commenter that visits me on the Eternal Press Loop on Sunday February 7th. Click to redirect and start an account. You only have to say hello once to enter! *grin* I'll announce the big cheese later that evening, before the live chat. Who knows...I might be tempted to toss in a couple of PDF copies of my previous releases to make it interesting, especially if the regular visitors of the blog stop by.

Hope you all have a fantastic Friday and wonderful weekend!

Ten Questions with Jeanne St. James

Please welcome the wonderful Jeanne St. James to the blog today! I had the pleasure of reading her story, Banged Up, not too long ago and absolutely loved it! She here to answer Ten Questions and to offer a glimpse of her latest offering, Double Dare, for your reading pleasure.

Hello, Jeanne! Welcome to the blog!

What is your favorite beverage when you write?

I prefer to drink Diet Vanilla Coke and Captain Morgan. If it’s later in the day and I don’t want the caffeine, I will have a glass (or two) of wine, Sangria preferably. Otherwise, I drink water. I’m a huge water drinker.

What is your favorite font to write in?

Times New Roman, 12 pt.

What music do you listen to when you write (or do you prefer it quiet)?

I prefer quiet. If for some reason I have music on softly in the background, I usually put on classic or soft rock.

When it comes to those all important jotted notes, which is it – composition pads or sticky notes?

Neither. I use Microsoft Word and make a file of notes. I’m so used to using computers (at work and at home) that my handwriting is atrocious. AND I’m so much slower handwriting. I can type over 80 WPM.

What’s your favorite snack when pounding away at the keyboard?

None. I try not to snack.

What inspires you when you write?

Your question #1. Alcohol loosens me up a bit and my imagination just takes over. I get into my characters’ heads and just write.

What do you turn to when you stumble across a road block in the creative process and need to regroup?

Go watch a movie. Movies seem to inspire my creativity. Sometimes they spark an idea.

Where do the ideas and concepts for your work come from?

Lately, it’s been special calls for submission. I see something a publisher is looking for and it sparks an idea.

What do you wish there was more of in the market?

Interracial ménage a trios (m/m/f). I love them. That’s why I decided to write one myself (DOUBLE DARE with Loose Id).

Lastly, what advice would you give to an up and coming writer that hopes to submit their work and become published in the future?

Keep writing. Don’t get discouraged. Find a good critique partner. Keep writing. Keep writing. I can’t say that enough.

You can find Jeanne by visiting the links below!

My website: http://www.jeannestjames.com
My blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jeannestjames
MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/jeannestjames
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/jeannestjames

Now, for an excerpt of Double Dare, available now from Loose Id. Be sure to check back Wednesday and Friday when I'll share snippets from Banged Up and Rip Cord! Thanks for stopping by the blog, Jeanne! All my best!

Double Dare Blurb:

What could be better than waking up next to a hot guy? Waking up sandwiched between two of them.

Quinn Preston, a financial analyst, is not happy when her friends dare her to pick up a handsome stranger at a wedding reception. What better reason to give up men when her previous long-term relationship had not only been lackluster in the bedroom but he had cheated.

Logan Reed, a successful business owner, can’t believe that he’s attracted to the woman in the ugly, Pepto-Bismol colored bridesmaid dress. And to boot, she’s more than tipsy. After turning down her invitation for a one-night stand, he finds her in the parking lot too impaired to drive. He rescues her and takes her home. His home.

The next morning Quinn’s conservative life turns on its ear when Logan introduces her to pleasures she never even considered before. And to make things more complicated, Logan already has a lover…

Tyson White, ex-pro football player, is completely in love with Logan. He has mixed emotions when Logan brings home Quinn. But the dares keep coming and things heat up with the three of them. Nevertheless Ty wonders: will adding Quinn to the mix end up enhancing or destroying Logan’s and his relationship?

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme & content, male/male sexual practices, ménage (m/m/f).

Double Dare Excerpt:

Quinn Preston almost choked on her Alabama slammer when her friend elbowed her in the ribs. "Ooof."

She saved her drink before it could spill all over her ugly bridesmaid dress. Yeah, that would have been a shame: to ruin such a nice, frumpy, pukey pink taffeta dress. One the bride had said she would be able to wear in the future. Like to a cocktail party. Or maybe her own funeral. Yeah, right. No one in their right mind would want to get caught dead in this thing.

Ruining the dress wouldn't have been a loss, but losing her drink would have. She was drinking slammers for a reason -- to get good and drunk.

Lana nudged her again. "You see that?" She nodded her head toward the back of the room.

"What?" Quinn really didn't care what Lana was excited about. She just wanted to get this day over with. She was tired of watching the happy couple. She was tired of pasting on a plastic smile for the photographer. And she was really tired of listening to the sappy congratulations. All things she might never have -- the wedding, the husband, the bridal bliss. And something her parents never failed to remind her. Especially now that she was in her early thirties. And single. Again.

"Not what. Who."

"Huh?" She sucked on the dainty little straw the bartender had put in her drink. Hardly anything would come out of it. Maybe it was designed just for stirring. She pulled it out and threw it onto the bar. She really needed one of those big giant straws that came in those fancy frozen drinks.

"Him. Over there." Lana grabbed Quinn by the shoulders and turned her around to face whatever had caught her friend's attention.

"Oh, him." She took a deep draw of the punchlike drink, only there wasn't a bit of punch in it. Not the fruit kind anyway.

"Yeah, him." Lana dragged out him like she was sucking on a maraschino cherry and enjoying the sweetness on her tongue.

Quinn didn't even take a good look. Men were on her shit list at the moment. She didn't care how hot they were. The potent drink in her hands was all the company she needed. She smiled into her glass; it was the best date she'd had in a while.

Another pink taffeta blur whizzed up to them, out of breath.

"Jeez Louise. Did you see that hunk of man meat?" Paula, another victim of the wedding fashion nightmare, was flushed and had a bead of sweat running down her chipmunk-like cheeks. "Do you think he's single?"

Quinn raised one shoulder in a half shrug and turned back to the bar. It was bad enough when the three of them had to stand next to each other at the altar, then throughout the grueling pictures, followed by having to sit beside each other at the head table. All in that awful pink froth. But now that it was all over, and they had done their duty for their friend Gina, there was no reason they all had to stand there looking like someone threw up Pepto-Bismol.

She leaned into the bar and asked the semicute bartender the time. When he answered that it was six, she gritted her teeth. They had only been at the reception for an hour. It was way too early to bail.

Damn.

With a sigh, she turned back to her friends. They were still ogling the male eye candy across the room.

Paula's sigh drifted over her. "I wonder if he likes women with a little meat on their bones."

A little meat? She opened her mouth to correct Paula, but shut it quickly. Her friend didn't need to be on the receiving end of her miserable mood.

"Quinn, I bet he'd make you forget Peanut."

Quinn winced and took another long draw from her drink. She loved the flavor and the tanginess on her tongue. And she was trying to forget Peanut. She hated the nickname her friends had called her ex-boyfriend, Peter. Once they had actually called him Peanut in front of his face -- by accident, of course. Right. It had taken her a while to brush that one under the rug. He had never liked her friends after that.

On the other hand, her friends had never liked Peter from the beginning. Unlike her parents, who loved the bastard. Probably more than they loved her.

"Yeah, Quinn, he could probably fuck your brains out, and you'd never remember that douche again."

Quinn frowned at Paula. She noticed her friend's string of pearls hiding in the skin around her neck. Quinn's hands automatically went to her neck to finger a similar necklace -- a part of the stupid wedding costume. Ugh. She hated pearls!

She hated taffeta. She hated pink. She hated frilly dresses.

She took a long swig from her glass.

And she hated Peter. The asshole.

His gift to her last Valentine's Day wasn't an engagement ring. Oh no, after five long, wasted years of dating the shit, he couldn't have gotten her a ring. Nope. Instead he sent her a text message.

That was it.

A stupid little text message. One line.

We've grown apart and I've found someone new.

She deserved more than that. Something better. After all those years of loyalty, standing by his side, being the "good, proper" girlfriend. As Peter had expected. As her parents had expected. The girlfriend any decent man would want on his arm. Right?

Not even a sorry. Not even an explanation. Nothing.

And the next day, FedEx had delivered a box with all the things she had left over at his apartment during the last half decade.

Quinn emptied her glass and turned back to the bar, blocking out her friends' chattering over that man.

She needed another man like she needed a hole in the head.

She slid her glass over the bar top, and before she could ask for another, a deep voice washed over her.

"Put her next drink on me."

Dumb ass. The drinks are on the house. She turned to ream whoever it was, and stopped. Her mouth opened, but nothing escaped.

"You look like a fish out of water with your mouth hanging open like that." When he smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkled. He was tan, an outdoorsy tan, not a manmade one. And he had beautiful green eyes. Shit. She had never seen such beautiful eyes on a man. His nose was a little crooked, like it had been broken, and it made him even more beautiful. No. Not beautiful. He was. He was.

Quinn closed her mouth and swallowed hard. He was so unperfect, he was perfect. His hair was a dark brown with natural highlights, more proof he liked being outdoors. It was long and pulled back into a neat ponytail.

She hated long hair on men. But it was right on him.

He had a beard that wasn't a beard. It was like a longer five-o'clock shadow.

She hated facial hair.

He had a strong, corded neck that disappeared into a stiff dress shirt. The collar had been already released and one more button undone below that. The knot of his tie was loose and hung crookedly from around his neck.

The sleeves of his crispy white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms were tan covered in dark hair. His hands.

Oh. Damn.

His hands were large. They were working hands. They weren't soft and pampered. But calloused and thick and strong.

Capable. Capable of doing all kinds of things.

Quinn's nipples hardened under the scratchy taffeta.

His hands could do all kinds of dirty, nasty things.

Things Peter had never wanted to do.

Quinn ripped her gaze from him and spun back around to the bar, bracing herself against it for a second to catch her breath. She grabbed her fresh drink and took a gulp.

"Whoa. Slow down there."

She pressed the cold drink against her forehead in an attempt to cool herself off.

She needed to go change her panties, she was so freaking wet.

She could feel his heat next to her; his body was like a furnace. She wanted to plant her hands on his chest and feel how hot he really was. Her fingers convulsed around her glass.

"Are you okay?" The deep timbre of his voice sent a shot of lightning down her body, landing right in her pussy.

Quinn could only nod her answer.

He palmed her bare shoulder and turned her to him. He stared down into her eyes, his lips widening into a smile.

His lips. Oh man. Those lips probably could do all sorts of things to her, with her. Lips that were made for more than kissing.

"Yes." Oh my God, she thought. That was the kind of yes she blurted when she was in the midst of an orgasm. At least from what she could remember. It had been so long since she'd come.with a partner, anyway.

She felt the heat crawl up her neck, and she stepped back, breaking the contact.

"I.I'm fine." She cleared her throat. "Thank you for the drink." She took another sip before raising the glass to him in thanks.

"It was nothing." When he laughed, her knees almost buckled. "Enjoy it."

He stepped away and then paused. But it looked as though he thought better of whatever he was contemplating, and he continued on his way.

Quinn leaned back against the bar and let out a shaky breath.

She was suddenly flanked on either side by her friends. She had been so distracted, she hadn't even realized that they disappeared.

"Quinn --"

"Quinn!"

"Oh. My. God!"

"I told you he was hot!"

"Oh! I wish I weren't married already."

"I wish he liked chubby chicks."

Quinn couldn't take any more. She raised her palms in surrender. "Stop. Enough."

"But, Quinn --"

"But nothing," Quinn answered Paula.

"You're just going to let him walk away?"

"Paula, he isn't going anywhere. Unfortunately I'm not going anywhere. We have to be here for two more hours, at least."

Lana said, "Are you going to let Peter ruin the rest of your life? All men aren't assholes like him."

Quinn harrumphed and took another sip of her slammer.

"Why don't you at least dance with him?"

"No."

"Why not?" Lana asked.

Why not? Because if she did, she might come right on the dance floor? Because she might end up in a puddle of her own juices? The picture in her head shocked her: it was of her lying in a heap in the middle of the dance floor in the throes of an orgasm. Surrounded by all the wedding guests.

This drink was stronger than she thought.

"Because no one is dancing yet."

"Sure they are. Look."

Quinn glanced over at the area cleared for dancing, and sure enough, a crowd of people were out there shaking their groove thing. Quinn had been too busy trying to get her drink on to notice.

From the looks of the participants on the dance floor, a few of them had been partaking in the open bar also. Even the bride and her new husband were bouncing and shimmying in the crowd.

At least they were a happy couple.

Quinn took another drink.

Lana frowned at her. "Are you just going to drink tonight, or are you going to do something about your situation?"

"Situation? What situation?"

"Getting laid."

Quinn checked over her shoulder to see if the bartender was listening. He was. He had a big grin plastered on his face. Great.

The father of the bride came up and asked for a gin and tonic. While he was waiting, he turned to them. "Hi, girls. Enjoying yourselves? You look great in those dresses. My wife picked them out."

Oh joy. Quinn would have to remember to smack -- she meant thank -- her. She couldn't wait to rip the scratchy, ugly piece of shit off.

All three women gave him a smile but bit their tongues. Eventually he wandered away, and Lana and Paula jumped right back to harassing her. Good thing they were her friends.

"C'mon. It's not going to hurt to have a one-night stand. Look at him."

"I already saw him." Holy moley, she knew they meant well, but they were getting on her last nerve.

"Yeah, and we saw how you were drooling too."

She had not drooled. Her hand automatically went up to her mouth.

Paula said, "He probably isn't interested in you anyway."

"Yeah, you couldn't get someone like that. You attract losers like Peter," Lana said.

If they thought their reverse psychology was going to work, well, it wasn't.

"Looks like he's with Paige Reed, anyway."

Quinn's gaze shot over to the corner of the ballroom where the tall man stood next to the petite, dark-haired beauty. Paige Reed. Figures.

"I thought Paige was dating Connor Morgan," Quinn mumbled.

She must have mumbled loud enough, because Lana answered her. "She is. Connor had to fly to Australia for something to do with his job."

"So why is she with him?" Quinn asked. Why was she so curious all of a sudden? Why did she care?

She didn't. She nursed her drink. After one and a half Alabama slammers, she was starting to feel pretty tipsy. She wasn't used to drinking. And when she did drink, she usually had wine, not hard liquor, and especially not such a hard-hitting mix of liquors.

Paula leaned into the both of them and said in an exaggerated whisper, "Maybe he's an escort," like it was a scandal, and then laughed.

Maybe he was an escort.

He was probably worth every penny too.

His back was to them now, but that just gave Quinn the opportunity to study how broad those shoulders were in his dress shirt. When he moved, the fabric bunched and pulled with his muscles.

Lana gasped, jerking Quinn out of her thoughts. "He's not an escort! That's Logan Reed, Paige's brother. I haven't seen him since we were kids. Holy shit, did he grow up."

"I'll say." Paula agreed. "Quinn, I dare you to go ask him to dance."

"Not interested."

Lana joined in. "Yeah, I dare you too. Don't be a wuss."

If she were a wuss, she wouldn't have come out in public in this pink atrocity. And the matching shoes were killing her feet. The last thing she needed was to be dancing. She'd be crippled.

"That's a double dare, you know, with the two of us daring you.."

Oh, boy, a double dare. She would definitely do it now -- not. "You're crazy."

"No, you are, if you pass up this opportunity. "

"How do you know he's available?" Quinn asked them.

"You don't know until you ask him," Lana said. "But if I remember correctly, his wife left him a while ago. There had been some rumors."

There had been some rumors about her and Peter too, but rumors were just that: rumors. She didn't take any stock in them.

Paula suddenly shouted, "Truth or dare?" making Quinn jump. It was like they were teenagers all over again.

Lana quickly said, "Truth." And bounced on her toes like she was fifteen.

Jesus, would someone please put a bullet in my head? Quinn needed to be put out of her misery.

Paula asked Lana, "Do you shave or wax?"

"Shave. Okay, Quinn, your turn. Truth or dare?"

Quinn was not playing this juvenile game. It was stupid; she was not going to fall into what was clearly a trap.

"Truth."

"How bad was Peter in bed?" Lana asked.

Damn. She wasn't going to answer that one. Even as drunk as she was. She didn't want to relive their vanilla, boring lovemaking. And she definitely didn't want to admit it or talk about it.

There was only one thing left for her to do.