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Saturday, April 6, 2013

Passion without limit. Carnal hunger that knows no bounds.

On April 23, Book Three - Shameless Desireof my Outlawed Realm series (erotic paranormal) for Samhain releases. Woot!

Here's the cover, blurb and an excerpt from Chapter One to give you a taste of what's to come. Enjoy!  :)




Within Earth's five dimensions, nothing is as it seems...and desire is never far away.

In E4's jungle, Kuma was the Alpha werewolf, bent on revenge against the hated guards. Swept with them into the E1 dimension, now he prowls Seattle at night, stopping the thugs from abducting women for use as sex slaves in E4's Pleasure Palace.

On her way home from her nursing job, Gwen senses danger in the night's shadows - an instant before a stranger attacks. Clinging to consciousness, she watches the impossible, a wolf fighting him off...protecting her. She wakes in her own bed, convinced it must have been a dream until she sees Kuma in human form. Virile, intense. A man like no other.

Within his powerful embrace, Gwen experiences rapture she didn't believe existed. His unrestrained lust and burning need end her loneliness, though not the menace they face. The guards are a constant threat in their hunt for women and their determination to see Kuma dead. Together, he and Gwen must fight - for his life, her freedom, their future.

PRODUCT WARNINGS

Out-of-this-world sex and a romance to die for. Features a hunk whose inner beast won't be tamed, and the woman who craves his most shameless desire.

Excerpt:

The drizzle turned to a steady rain. Great.
Good sense and a crappy day in the ER told Gwen Lalani to quicken her pace, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the hospital. Although she’d handled her usual share of trauma these past days, what had happened last week continued to haunt her.
Behind the curtain that night, Gwen had expected to see a guy who was pretty messed up, given what the emergency personnel had said. Still, she had gaped at what was left of a man who’d been attacked either by someone who was a lunatic or in a drug frenzy. The victim’s face, hands and feet were gone, the ragged edges telling her someone had actually gnawed them off.
God. Gwen had seen a lot in the ER. However, the brutality of the attack shocked the shit out of her. Two of the new residents witnessed her reaction. Quick as could be, those guys were gossiping like schoolgirls, telling their peers and anyone who would listen that they’d been afraid she’d pass out. After all, she was a mere RN. No way could they expect her to react to blood and gore as a doctor or a guy would.
Uh-huh. Gwen knew exactly how males behaved. It had never been pretty.
In middle school, she’d been taller than most of the boys, which didn’t sit well with them, so they resorted to bullying. In high school, she wasn’t purebred enough for any ethnic group. Her Hawaiian, Hispanic, Caucasian and black ancestry made her the ultimate outcast. The few boys who’d asked her out wanted sex, not a relationship. No surprise, except they didn’t even try to sugarcoat their demands with the I-love-you lie.
At twenty-seven, she wasn’t finding her male coworkers any better.
She blew out a sigh, hating herself for letting them and the memory of that dead guy get to her…and for allowing that other man to see it. Pausing beneath one of the trees in the parking lot, she looked back without meaning to, half expecting him to be there still, watching her.
The spot where he’d been was empty. Rain shimmered in the halo of light.
A sense of loss, or was it disappointment, rolled through Gwen. For a stranger no less. She frowned at her ridiculous reaction but couldn’t stop from glancing to the left, the right, somehow still feeling his presence and male heat.
He was a hard man not to notice, even more difficult to forget.
From her brief glimpse of him, Gwen gauged his height to be six-three. He appeared to be in his early thirties, his body in superb physical condition, lean and muscular, his skin bronzed. Like a freaking Greek god.
Shivers of delight coursed through her at the thought of running her hands over the hard planes of his body, loitering on all the best parts, pressing her face into the hollow of his neck, smelling his skin and dark brown hair. He wore it combed back, the ends reaching his shoulders, no different from a pirate in a romance novel or a sheik from a Middle-Eastern country. So damn virile, no one would ever accuse him of being the boy next door.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her breath fogged in the increasingly chilly night even as the rest of her grew fevered. She recalled his strong, masculine features and beautiful eyes. So light they had to be gray, their color nearly silver in the twilight that surrounded him. Arresting. Arousing.
The same as his smile.
A smile like that could brighten a woman’s world on a dreary evening like this. It could thrill and comfort, the same as his big body and musky male scent. With his hands around her wrists, he’d settle down on top of her, his weight deliciously confining, their faces close enough for him to capture her mouth for a kiss.
He wouldn’t. Instead, he’d gaze at her while he stroked her palms with his thumbs. Tender foreplay to lull her into complacency. To prepare her for the wanton act to come. His cock would grow stiff between her legs. Her pussy would already be moist with her desire for him. He’d enter her slowly, recording her reaction as he stretched and filled her with his thick rod. He wouldn’t stop until their curls touched and she had no possibility of escape.
Not that she’d try.
She’d yield without hesitation, sheltering his body with hers, drowning in his lust.
Nice. And not at all unrealistic given the glimmer of desire she’d caught on his face. She wasn’t a beauty, nor was she girly, but for a moment, he’d seemed to want her.
He was surely a man who knew how to please a woman. Possibly several at once. What had he been doing here tonight? Where had he gone?
Like a damn fool, she continued to scan the lot for him. Moisture sparkled on the roofs and hoods of numerous vehicles. A blast of wind sent the rain slashing sideways. Jeez. The clammy cold drove away her fantasy’s comforting glow faster than his absence. Despite their momentary connection, she’d never see him again.
Time to get a grip and go home.
She darted through the lot, her teeth chattering and not only from the temperature. A sudden, inexplicable sense of dread gripped Gwen. Once more, she paused and glanced around. The area was empty of pedestrians, everyone else already inside the hospital or driving away. Leaving her alone. Unprotected. Vulnerable.
Right. In a few more seconds, the creepy theme from that old movie Halloween would play in her mind. Best to stop this idiotic nonsense. She was a big girl, could take care of herself and didn’t let shit worry her. Like the recent rash of missing women in the Seattle area, their bodies not yet found.
They were all young, petite, attractive. The news reports had likened their disappearances to when Ted Bundy lived here in the seventies and made the city his personal killing field, offing women without detection.
Headlights pierced the darkness, accentuating the rain. Gwen squinted at the brightness. For one wild moment, she wondered if its driver was the hot guy she’d seen earlier…or the unknown killer. Her pulse kicked up several notches. She imagined the maniac being so desperate for a victim he had settled on her, planning to force her inside his vehicle, taking her to God-knew-where to do God-knew-what.
Fearing the worst, she stepped back.
The car turned left and moved past, its occupants not bothering to glance her way before the vehicle disappeared into the night.
She wasn’t alone.
The thought startled Gwen even as she tried to dismiss it. The hairs on her arms rose up. Something was wrong.
What? Other than the obvious—that she couldn’t afford a car or to live in the suburbs.
Frowning, she gripped her pepper spray even harder and continued across the lot to the surrounding neighborhood, a combination of inner city and working class that had seen better times. Failed attempts at gentrification had resulted in islands of beautiful two- and-three-story historic homes surrounded by blight, trash, weeds.
She hurried past the first vacant lot as quickly as she could, telling herself tonight was no different from any other. No one was after her. She wasn’t a psycho’s type, being too tall and not at all helpless. Hadn’t one of the residents said it very well last week when he’d jokingly referred to her as a ball buster for teaching those self-defense classes at the hospital? You bet he had. Her kind of woman wasn’t on most guys’ radar, especially those looking for an easy target.
Besides, she didn’t have all that far to walk and would get home safely.
Moisture rolled down her cheeks and throat. If the weather deteriorated any further, her hoodie would soon be soaked through. Huffing from her pace, she approached the street corner. The signal was red; the sign warning her not to cross. In both directions, the road was empty. Its wet surface gleamed in the available light.
Wind whisked around an abandoned confectionary, buffeting Gwen. She shivered and turned down the street, deciding to take a shortcut through an alley in the distance. From behind, a car approached. Glancing over, she saw it move down the main thoroughfare rather than turning in her direction.
Her running shoes made slapping noises against the damp pavement, the sounds obtrusive, not seeming to belong. Leaves rustled above her, the dying ones torn free by the wind. The bass of an unknown song thumped from a nearby brick building, its curtainless upper windows amber with light. A young boy with wavy black hair and dusky skin blew on the glass, fogging it, and then he drew a series of letters with his forefinger.
Gwen reached the vacant lot that cut from this street to the next, one over from her own. Just a bit farther to go. She’d be all right. No one was around. No one was following her.
Needing to be certain, she continued to glance back. There was nothing except darkness interrupted infrequently by dated streetlamps, their crumbling concrete facades matching the pockmarked sidewalks. Empty bags of Lay’s potato chips, Cheetos and other fast food littered the area, the cellophane crackling beneath her shoes.
With one hand around her pepper spray and the other clutching her house key, she entered the alley. Debris skittered down it, carried by the wind, the sickly sweet stink of garbage less noticeable in the brisk breeze. Yards ahead, half the length of a football field, was her street, a wall of murkiness separating her from it. Craning her neck, Gwen glanced at the many windows facing the alley, most boarded up. The ones that weren’t were dark.
Go on. She’d walked this route last night and countless times before that. The only hassle she’d faced were stray dogs crouching in the gloom, growling at her intrusion into their territory.
Tonight, even they were gone. For the first time ever, Gwen missed them. She knew she could easily frighten animals. Men, on the other hand… There might be a fight.
Again, she sensed someone watching, following.
Sudden outrage rather than fear pumped through Gwen. Halfway down the alley, she halted and turned, ready to rumble, show the jerk some of her martial arts moves.
No one was behind her.
She listened and heard nothing. Certainly not heavy breathing, except for her own.
Renewed apprehension cut through her aggravation. Gwen pivoted, ready to run the remaining distance. A faint whooshing noise interrupted her panting and the other night sounds. Before she could identify it, something hit her neck, stinging her skin.
Jesus, had someone shot her, with a fucking silencer no less?
Her hand flew up, then stalled not on blood but something else. What the hell?
What felt like a small dart had pierced the side of her throat unprotected by her hoodie. Where in the crap had something like that come from? Suddenly, her limbs went numb. Her hand dropped from her neck before she could remove the dart.
Down Gwen went, her legs unable to support her weight, her knees hitting the broken asphalt. She heard the crack of her bones, but the pain didn’t register, blunted by whatever flowed through her. A tranquilizer, she guessed. Although she tried to remain kneeling, her efforts didn’t last. She fell to her side even as her mind kept screamingrun.
Too late. Out of the shadows he came. A man she’d never seen before, hadn’t noticed, his build bruising with a thick neck, burly shoulders and arms. In the light bleeding from her street, Gwen could see his eyes were a light brown, his hair curly and black, his features and complexion not quite African-American or Indian but a mixture of races, the same as her.
He grabbed her arm.
Nooooooo.
She fought to pull away, but her body refused to work. Helpless, she screamed, or tried; only a croak escaped.
Grunting, he put his hand over her mouth, his fingers clamped so tight Gwen couldn’t bite him. Raw terror tore through her even as her lethargy increased. Was he going to rape her? Kill her? Both? Oh God, oh God, oh God.  Her thoughts went in all directions, most of them bad, fueled by adrenaline. She pictured him slitting her throat once he’d finished his sexual assault, leaving her to bleed to death in a trash bin or an abandoned building, her body concealed so well it would be difficult to find.
Aw shit. Her life couldn’t end like this. No fucking way. She had to fight. Come on, dammit. Do it.
She tried so hard to move, her body broke out in a cold sweat. Perspiration mingled with the moisture on her face, stinging her eyes. Despite her efforts, Gwen couldn’t wag one finger. Lifting her arms was as impossible as flapping them and taking flight. Remaining conscious became an effort.
With too much ease, the man dragged her down the alley. Her clothes rasped against the rough surface. Her shoes bounced. Tat-tat-tat, her rubber heels went. Tat
What’s that? Even in her drugged state, Gwen felt a deeper blast of cold to the left of them and heard a sucking sound that resembled a vacuum. Was it a vent? Leading to where? Why hadn’t she heard it all the times before when she’d taken this route? Why—
What in the holy hell is that?
She listened, hearing another low, menacing growl.
The man stopped at the noise, then hurriedly pulled her toward the intense cold.
The growl deepened, growing louder. Closer.
The man muttered something in a language she’d never heard, couldn’t possibly understand. From the right came a snarl, followed by an animal bounding into the air, hitting the man square in his chest.
His hands dropped away from Gwen. She sagged to the asphalt, straining to remain conscious, gaping at the animal attacking the man. Not one of the stray dogs she’d seen here before. It was larger, more dangerous, looking like a goddamned wolf.
Teeth bared and bloody, it tore at the man’s face, cutting off his scream. Gwen heard his neck bones snap. Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she allowed her lids to slip down, not wanting to witness the attack, terrified of what the wolf—or whatever the hell it was—would do to her when it finished with the man.
Rain tapped her face. Each breath was a prolonged battle. She wanted to run. She would have given a year of her life to be able to scream.
Quiet. She noticed it suddenly…the utter stillness of the night. How much time had passed? Was she still alive? Had she died and gone to some weirdo version of hell?
Her mouth fell open, but no sound escaped as someone strong lifted her up. A guy, surely. A cop who’d happened upon this nightmare? A Good Samaritan? Had she lost consciousness without realizing it? Where had the wolf gone? Where was this guy taking her?
Gwen’s hands flopped helplessly as he slung her over his shoulder, his forearm firm across the back of her thighs. With quick steps, he moved down the alley.

Tina
Tina Donahue
“Heat with Heart”

LOSING CONTROL (available now) 
COME FILL ME (4 STARS - The Jeep Diva) 
ILLICIT DESIRE (4 STARS - ROMANTIC TIMES)
SENSUAL STRANGER (BOOK OF THE YEAR 2010)
DEEP, DARK, DELICIOUS (HOLT MEDALLION AWARD OF MERIT)




Friday, April 5, 2013

It's Conference Time!

Writing is a solitary profession. We hide away in our little caves and think up stories to amuse and delight and some of us love it so much that we have a tendency to become hermits. I looked up a little while ago and wondered where the heck March went. Honestly, you'd think that someone who could lose a month, could at least lose five pounds but it doesn't work that way, but I'm getting off the subject. Sorry.

As much as I love my writing cave, I do love the company of other writers. RT is in Kansas City this year and I couldn't be happier. A hotel (actually two) full of authors and readers sounds like heaven after this long, cold winter and the solitude that it enforced.

Besides the wonderful people that I reconnect with and the lovely people that I meet, conference's are like a mini-vacation that recharges my brain. I usually come away with a renewed enthusiasm for my craft and a better understanding of my profession. As fast as our business is changing, I could spend the entire day tracking down information and still miss something important.

I haven't been to a conference in a couple of years and I'm down to the wire on putting my giveaway basket together, packing my swag bags and trying to find a pair of shoes that will go with the sparkly jacket  that I'll be wearing at the Ellora's Cave Fantasy Dance Party on Wednesday night. I'm going to look like a smiling disco ball with feet, but who could pass up a silver, sequined jacket?

I won't be partying all the time. Besides attending workshops, I'll also be putting in an appearance at the E Expo and Giant Book Fair



If you see me hanging around Crown Center, May 1-5, please say hello! I really am quite a sociable hermit.

Until next month,

Happy Reading!


Paris Brandon



Thursday, April 4, 2013

Deadlines, Oh Sweet Deadlines.


I’m in a little bit of an OMG moment right now LOL. I have a book due on the 15th and a book due on May 5th. Yes, I’m a bit crazy, but I’m going to get it done darn it. I’m writing every day, sometimes to the point my eyes hurt and I need to walk away.

I write quickly thank God. I can do around 5,000 words a day and be okay. Some days I can only get to 3k, some days I get to 7k. It really depends on the scene for me these days. My May 5th deadline also marks the end of the craziest few months of my life. You see, that deadline is for Dreams of Ivory (Holiday, Montana 5), the last of my Holiday series and the last of my month-to-month releases. Yes, when Dreams of Ivory hits shelves in July, it will be my 10th release in 10 months. And if you include my two volumes of Redwood Pack books, it’s my 12th upload/release/tour in 10 months.

OMG.

I hadn’t planned on doing that to myself at first, but then I decided to write a Holiday series that needed to be out during the month of its holiday and well…yeah.

I’m at the last two books of this crazy thing in terms of writing and it’s taken its toll on me. I can’t wait to have a little breathing room between releases. *cough* That means every other month for me, rather than every month LOL.

Now, not all releases were full length books. A few of them were around 40k words, so it’s not like I’m too crazy.

No really. I’m not.

I’m a firm believer in quality AND quantity. I might have written many books one after the other, but I’ve also made sure I was proud of my books. There’s a difference I think in that and just shelving them out like a product I don’t care about.

Maybe that’s why my deadlines freak me out and egg me on. I might have to write tons during a day, but I’m proud of those words. *cough* Usually after edits LOL. And copy edits. And revisions.

I already have my April and May releases written, edited, and formatted and ready to go. My June release is almost done and about to be sent to my editor and my July release is going to be on the table soon.

I’m also going to Florida on April 11th to meet up with my CP and business partner, Lia Davis, to work on our series. So yes, I get a mini vacation AND it’s a working one.

I can’t wait to relax on the beach and write.

Yes, writing can be relaxing. LOL

So yes, my deadlines have been a bit much recently, but they won’t always be that way. What about you? Do deadlines help or hinder you?

What about your writing times? How do you manage what you want to do and what you need to do?

~Carrie Ann

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Guest Blog: Jennifer Labelle: For the Love of Romance



My love of romance began from reading first, and writing second. Writing not only allows me to explore my imagination, but also allows me the escape into the world of my choosing, while reading gives me a break from my own mind and gives me a glimpse into someone else’s. There is nothing like a great plot with unsuspecting twists, a sexy hero or heroine that makes you want to sigh, and I especially love it when the emotion flows right off of the pages and into the reader. It’s the happily ever after when we finish the book, only to crave for more of it once we’re done. It’s what I strive for as a writer, and what I love as a reader…

Meet Jenna, and Sam, from Meant To Be. Two best friends who overcome unusual circumstances but despite all odds it only makes them stronger for it, especially when two hunky Irishmen enter their lives. *winks*

Jennifer: Good morning to you both, it’s nice to see you both again.
Sam: Morning, Jen, what’s up?
Jenna: Good morning, Jennifer. It’s great to see you again too.

Jennifer: Likewise. There have been a lot of changes in both of your lives lately, first with the trip and finding a new love, then with the move, and the transition with Jayden. How are you both coping?
Jenna: *fans face* I promised myself I wouldn’t get emotional. Um, the trip Sam sort of surprised me with to Ireland was the best thing I could have ever hoped for. After all, if it hadn’t been for Sam I’m not sure I would have ever met Brady. And, although he could never replace Tyler of course, Jayden loves him almost as much as I do. Plus, I think the move helped us to move on. There were too many memories I’d much rather not live through again, you know?
Sam: I think what Jenna is trying to say is that we’re all coping pretty well. Yes, she misses Tyler, and of course Jayden does too, but they’re both happy now. I see it on a daily basis, and I love my beautiful little God child, Jenna and Brady have blessed us with. And, as you can see I’m coping very well too. *she rubs her round belly* Caleb and I will have a playmate for Maddy in a few short weeks.

Jennifer: Congratulations to you both. Married life certainly suits you. Jenna I’m assuming Maddy is the daughter you and Brady share together?
Jenna: She is *smiles*

Jennifer: And, Sam, do you and Caleb have any names picked out for your little one?
Sam: *laughs* is that your subtle way of asking me if I know the sex?

Jennifer: I suppose so, yes. *shrugs*
Sam: Melina Jenna O’Connell actually. We’re having a girl. *grins* A little girl so Maddy will soon have a playmate to enjoy. Hopefully they’ll be the best of friends like Jenna and I are, and Caleb and Brady.

Jennifer: Congratulations again. I think it’s wonderful that two best friends married two best friends. So where are these men of yours today?
Jenna: Brady’s got Caleb practicing. *laughs* They’re with the children to give us a moment with you.

Jennifer: And to yourselves of course. So tell me, Jenna, how does it feel to have your story finally told? Yours is a unique one.
Jenna: That it is. I think you did a great job with it, and Brady was the best part. Although, I blush every time I get to the intimate parts. Sam gets a kick out of it, and makes sure to tease me. God love her.
Sam: Oh, I do not. *laughs* Although, I do crack up every time I read about the time you walked in on me and Caleb. *Sigh* he’s delicious isn’t he?
Jenna: *eye roll* He’s no Brady, but yes, Sam, Caleb is a very good looking man.
Sam: Well, of course Brady is a dish. He’d have to be, to be related to me.

Jennifer: *chuckles* The two of you are great.
Sam: Why, thank you, thank you very much.
Jenna: *wink*

Jennifer: *smiles* I’d like to thank you both for joining me today. It was a pleasure to write the book and I loved catching up with you. If I’m ever back in Dublin I’ll be sure to stop in to say hi.
Jenna: Oh please do.
Sam: Thank you, Jennifer. We’d love to have you.

If you all liked this interview, and would like a one of a kind erotic contemporary romance to keep you company this  coming summer then may I suggest checking out, Meant To Be. I’d like to thank Jenna and Sam for their time, and for the update.
I love happy endings, don’t you?

BLURB:
Jenna Baker is shaken up after her recovery with a near death experience. As if, being haunted with visions and losing her husband in a car accident weren’t hard enough. Could she be losing her mind? She finally moves on, only to have the husband she thought was dead suddenly reappear.

After the shocking task of convincing Jenna that she’s not seeing his ghost, Tyler becomes overwhelmed with guilt for saving himself and leaving her to almost die. Jenna’s recovery takes its toll while Tyler’s vulnerability gets the best of him. He’s harbouring secrets that will devastate her and as Jenna unravels the truth her life takes an unexpected journey.

BUY LINKS:
Print Links:
CreateSpace
Amazon

Ebook Links:
Secret Cravings Publishing
Barnes & Noble
ARe
Amazon
Bookstrand


BIO:
Jennifer Labelle resides in Ottawa, Ontario Canada with her husband and three beautiful children. After her third child she became a stay at home mom. In her busy household Jennifer likes to spend her down time engrossed in the stories that she creates. She is an active reader of romance (especially historical), mystery and anything paranormal. With an education in Addictions work she's decided to take a less stressful approach in life and hopes that you enjoy, as she shares some of her imagination with all of you.
Best wishes,
Jennifer Labelle
Website: http://www.jenniferlabelle.com
Blog: http://labellebooks.blogspot.com
http://twitter.com/1JenniferLabell
Facebook
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4649930.Jennifer_Labelle

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

PIRACY, TRADEMARK, COPYRIGHT—OH MY!



Forgive me today. I need to rant. I don’t normally do this, but I’ve had a hellacious couple of weeks, more like a month of craziness.

We’ve heard and read a number articles, blogs, chat rooms lately in regard to today’s topic. We as authors are constantly dealing with concerns of our hard work being downloaded by “pirates” or “file sharers”, monopolizing our valuable time. Once a week, I Google (that’s a trademark, by the way) my name. Not only to search for possible illegal use of my books, but to check for blogs I've been on or reviews I've received. Last week I sent a DCMA, a takedown notice, to a new file share site. By the next day, the file was down. How long it will remain that way, I don’t know, but taking an hour plus out of my writing time is irritating. There are services available that do this, but I used one for six weeks and they said nothing showed up, except I continue to check because reviews also pop up. During the “trial” period with the service I found other pirate sites so I didn’t continue with them.

On the subject of trademark and copyright, I know several authors here on Romance Books '4' Us have dealt with this problem as well as this blog name. Not me personally, but someone I know also went through this recently. Wasn’t their pen name or a blog name, but the title of a series. The names were all different and the series had been published for two years. During investigating the accusation, no trademark had been filed, only copyrighted movies. That’s right, not a book, but a DVD movie. Because the attorney representing the claimant threatened a large monetary and drawn-out lawsuit if the books weren’t immediately removed and they get all royalties received over two years, they were pursuing the case against my friend. Of course, the publisher after conferring with their attorney said would be easier and less painful if they complied instead of fight. Was it right, probably not, but the “big boys” have the money to “bully” the little authors in Podunk, USA. The notion that you can’t trademark a title isn’t completely true. You can, and especially a series. If the author had written a stand-alone title instead of a series with a similar name, the other party probably wouldn’t have a case. But, who has $100,000 to go to court and fight it, possibly win but be bankrupt in the end?

My advice, for what it’s worth, if you plan to write a series, trademark it. Twilight is trademarked, Sherrilyn Kenyon's work is as well along with Anne Rice's Interview with a Vampire, and Fifty Shades of Grey. Since I have several different series I’ve written, I’m definitely looking into trademarking at least one of them. Initially, doing the paperwork and paying for an attorney isn’t cheap, but the flip side is being sued for trademark infringement at an astronomical price, paying upfront is less expensive.

For the past month, I’ve been educated, frustrated, angered, and depressed. Writing is a passion, a necessity, and to constantly deal with the demotivating side of this business is stressful. All I want to do is write whether I make another dime or not. Between promotions, piracy, concerns with infringement by someone unknown out in the world might come after me, sometimes I question my passion and whether to continue and I actually did stop writing, asking myself why bother?

Then, I got edits on two stories last week. Working on them pulled me up by the bootstraps and maybe, just maybe, I might open up the last work in progress and start to click my fingers on the keyboard again. This isn’t writer’s block, which we all encounter from time to time, this was something else. Don’t know what to name it, but I’m determined to get over it and move on.

Do you have days, weeks, and months like this? What do you do to overcome the obstacles thrown down in your way?

Rant over. I’m going to hide in my writing cave the rest of the day and create the next best seller. Not!
Cynthia Arsuaga    
Erotic Romance Author
http://romanticwordsbycynthia.blogspot.com
http://cynthiaarsuaga.weebly.com  

Monday, April 1, 2013

When a Series just won't End with Nicole Morgan


Welcome to Romance Books 4 Us everyone. I'm your tour guide for the day, Nicole Morgan and I'd like to talk to you about a situation I've gotten myself into. A bit of a pickle you might say. Oh, I know, there in lies tons of euphemisms, right?  LOL. Seriously though, I'd love everyone's feed back on this so comments would be so very appreciated. Now, go ahead and kick your shoes off, sit back, relax and enjoy!
In 2009 I began penning my very first book, Sweet Redemption [Sweet Awakenings 1]. It tells the story of Jack, a former Navy SEAL dealing with a few demons after his life on the teams. Then, because I'm my own worst enemy and love a good challenge, I finished that book with a bit of a hook at the end. Thus Sweet Salvation [Sweet Awakenings 2] was born. This time it was the story of Rex, Jack's former SEAL teammate who has his own obstacles to overcome if he's going to save the woman that he loves. But once again, when I wrapped up this baby, I couldn't help but tell Adam's story, also known as, Sweet Vengeance [Sweet Awakenings 3], Being the most abrasive of the SEAL bunch, Adam's story was a bit different and surprised the readers. But not to worry, I had some unfinished business from all three books which came to a head in Nick's story. Which brings us to, Sweet Affliction [Sweet Awakenings 4].  This was the story that tied up all those loose ends into one neat and tidy happy ending for all of my scrumpdelieicious SEALs. 



Or so I thought it was the end, because as of late, both my muse and my readers have protested such a thought. So here I am pondering revamping the series in an entirely different direction. You see, the four heroes of these books make friends with a couple of local cops. Andrew is married to the lovely Amanda and there is definitely a hot and steamy story to be told there, but most importantly the one character that I and lots of my readers have come back to is Cullen, Jr. He doesn't fit the stereotype for the classic cover model hero. He has a great body, and works hard at it, but he's Irish with red hair and freckles to boot. But, his charisma...oy vey, he could charm the pants off of a catholic school girl. 

This all brings me to my predicament. I truly believe that the "Sweet" series has ended. Plus, when I think of those books, I think of my SEALs. But, the characters within these stories need to have their stories told also. They really really do! *winks* And they're not SEALs, they're officers of the law. The sexy kind! Hehehe... So, my question is, do I let the "Sweet" Series die and start a whole new theme, just crossed over from the previous? Or do I stick with the "Sweet" theme? 

Oh... decisions...decisions... HELP!!


Nicole Morgan is an author of erotic romance novels, which more often than not have a suspenseful back story. Erotic romance mixed with good old-fashioned whodunit. While she's written everything from contemporary to paranormal her leading men will more than likely be wearing a uniform of some kind. From military to police officers, she has a love for writing about those who protect and serve. From her very first novel (which turned into a four book series) about Navy SEALs to her more recent releases you will be sure to find a few twists and turns you were not expecting.

She also has a recurring monthly column in Book & Trailer Showcase's eMagazine, and is a proud member of the Romance Books 4 Us Gold Authors. 

Find out more about Nicole and her books by visiting her websiteblogGoogle + PageTwitterFacebook and her Yahoo Group, Nicole’s Think Tank.
Until next month my lovies ~ Nicole 


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