The winner of a copy of Dreams of Fate is...
Monday, October 31, 2011
The winner of a copy of Dreams of Fate is...
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Angelica and Alexander fell in love at a young age. Unfortunately, their love is doomed since the beginning. Forcibly separated, Angelica is obligated to marry another man at her father’s convenience while Alexander is prohibited from ever seeking her out again.
Ten years later, however, Alexander is no longer the callow boy he used to be. Now an influential gentleman, he is bent on recovering the only woman he has ever loved. No matter the cost. But has their love withstood the ravages of time?Buy your copy at Evernight Publisher!!
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Thursday, October 20, 2011
It's Friday and the weekend has just kicked off! I don't have any special plans, a bunch of class work, writing a synopsis for my finished WIP and sleeping in! What are your plans?
All through today, tomorrow and Sunday I'm pleased to be participating in Weekend Dirty Dozen! Check out their Facebook page and find out who else is participating by clicking Here.
The game is as follows: authors post 12 sentences from their current WIP or published project and readers sit back and enjoy!
I'm posting the first few sentences from my novel "A Decade of Longing" which will be released this upcoming Wednesday October 26th by Evernight Publishing!
He raised his eyes from her full lips. With a sigh, he turned around, concealing himself behind the large Greek-inspired column. How he longed to go to her and sweep her into his arms.
A waiter passed by and offered him a drink. Accepting with a nod, he took the opportunity to turn around and look at her again. Her hair hung loose below her shoulders in soft brown curls, highlighted with golden tresses. Her lips curved into a smile of greeting as she waved at a friend. She stood tall, regal even, as she made her way across the room saluting acquaintances. However, even as she went about her duties, her eyes constantly scanned the room as if searching for something––or someone.
He knew what she was seeking. She stopped to chat to someone, turning her back on him.It was time.
I have great news! My historical novel "A Decade of Longing" will be released earlier than expected! When? Next Wednesday the 26th of October.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
I'm continuing with last week's untitled work. I still don't have a title for it, so I'd love to hear any suggestions if you have them.
This weeks prompts were:
from guest prompter Alison Todd: The moment I opened my mouth, I knew I would regret it.
And from Julie, one of these alternative prompts:
Use these three words in your story: sunshine, stereo, ambulance
cold hands, warm heart
"In for a penny, in for a pound"
Don't forget to visit the other great flasher's! (links at the bottom!)
Amanda passed the paintbrush across the faded pink walls. Her things had been taken out and sold in a yard sale or gone into storage at her parent’s house. There was nothing left for her here except memories. She grasped the brush painfully hard, enjoying the sensation of its wooden handle digging into her skin. It stopped her mind from wandering, or did it? Suddenly, she was remembering a day, years ago, when she had grasped something just as hard to keep her feet on the ground.
Amanda rushed across the patio. She had had enough with her foul neighbor. Why didn’t he go to his back patio to fix his darn motorcycle? No. He just had to do on his front lawn and annoy her to no end.
Three days ago, she had been again trying to read at her window seat when the brat had started revving his motor. She’d ask her mom if she could go talk to the neighbors, but she had refused, explaining that everyone could do as they pleased on their front lawn. She’d then gone to her father, but he’d said pretty much the same. Finally, she had spoken to her grandmother. She was the only one that had made a decent suggestion: “Why don’t you talk to the boy? I’m sure if you explain you can come to an agreement.”
Amanda huffed as she crossed the street. An agreement? Her ass! All the dimwit had done was stare at her as if she had descended from the planet of the apes. He had then proceeded to laugh in her face and ignore her. Oh, she had been so furious. She had rushed back home in tears.
It was then that her father suggested something useful. “Why don’t you use your Discman to drown out the noise?” She had. Until today. Today dimwit was being extraordinarily loud because not only was he making motor noises he had now added to the pack some hell sent metal music that killed her own classical preference.
As she stepped on the lawn, Amanda took in a deep breath. She fixed the hem of her purple tank top and straightened her shorts. Then she set her face into a determined mask, clenched her fists to her side and stomped her way to the boy’s garage.
“Ahem,” she loudly cleared her voice.
Dimwit didn’t even glance her way. This was war. She wasn’t prone to violence but if it came to that…in for a penny, in for a pound.
Amanda leaned forward over the bike. Her face almost level with dimwit’s as he bent over the bike’s wheel.
Dimwit looked up at her and smiled. For a moment, a funny feeling danced in her stomach and Amanda hurried to straighten herself. Dimwit turned his back on her and lowered the volume of the stereo.
“How can I help you?” he asked standing to his full height. Last time they had spoken he had been sitting in the sidewalk and hadn’t bothered to stand. Amanda was taken aback by how tall he was, she had to tilt her head back to look him in the face, but she refused to be intimidated.
“I asked nicely the other day, and I will ask again now. Can you please do this, “she spread her arms wide, indicating the music, the bike and everything around it, “somewhere else?”
Dimwit smiled, a slow sensual grin that caused his cheeks to dimple and made his blue eyes shine.
“May I know why not?” she asked trying to maintain her composure.
“No.” He shrugged and returned to his previous position next to the bike’s wheel.
Amanda ground her teeth together. Decision coursing through her, she rushed around the bike and forced herself to stand between Dimwit and the wheel. Slowly, Dimwit raised his head. His gaze travelled across her body in a slow, sensual caress that caused her legs to tremble. Amanda held on to the motorcycle’s handle, the leather dug into her skin, helping her keep her mission in mind.
“I demand to know why you’re being so impossible and acting like an immature adolescent.”
Dimwit covered his eyes from the glare of the sunshine and said nothing. The blaring siren of an ambulance could be heard racing across a nearby street. Then there was silence. Amanda held her breath. Her grip on the handle tightened painfully but she refused to let go lest she forget why she was here. The boy’s glance was heating her from top to bottom, his eyes having turned a darker shade of blue and his full lips slightly parted, almost as if he too had trouble breathing.
“Maybe because I am an immature adolescent or maybe because I’m hurt you didn’t even ask my name.”
The sound of his voice, raspier than she could recall, brought Amanda back to earth. She fought back the confusing urge to either throttle the boy or kiss him.
“What is your name?” The words flew from her mouth before she could register them.
“Damian, my name is Damian. You’re Amanda.”
Amandra frowned. “How do you know?”
The boy took a step closer and she fought the urge to run.
“I’ll only tell you on one condition?”
Amanda glanced into his dancing blue eyes, a shiver ran down her spine, expectantly.
“What’s that?” her voice sounded strained to her own ears.
“If you let me kiss you.”To be continued...
Sui Lynn (m/m)
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Welcome to another Six Sentence Sunday! Today I'm setting Devinia's story aside for a bit because my latest short paranormal story "Dreams of Fate" was released on Friday!Wohoo!
So, here it is, Six Sentences from "Dreams of Fate". I hope you like it! And don't forget to visit the other great authors at Six Sentence Sunday!
A single man walked in. More than six feet tall, he strode into the room with confidence. He was dressed in black from head to toe. A hood hid his features, and Alisha sat up straighter, her body tense, ready to act should it seem necessary. What did he have to hide? A chilly gust of wind swept inside, and she shivered.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Hope you're all having a great Saturday! Today I'm being interviewed at Adonis Devereux's blog "Boundless as the sea" and I talk about my new release "Dreams of Fate".
Check it out!
Friday, October 14, 2011
There are more to dreams than meets the eye...
When Alisha, Queen of the elves, meets Lord Tarmo in the dead of the night, she recognizes him as the man who has plagued her dreams. Soon, she discovers that he too has been dreaming with her. The problem is that Tarmo is a vampire.
Afraid of the power Tarmo holds over her body, Alisha does not want to believe that their dreams are visions of destiny. But once they touch, neither can deny the passion that binds them for all time...
Get your copy now at Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, All Romance Ebooks among other resellers!
Thursday, October 13, 2011
I remember it clearly. I was on my way home, immersed in my own thoughts when the first chords of this song began to play. As the lyrics unfolded my imagination took a path of its own, image formed in my mind and a story began to take place...
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
There were some great prompts this week:
Freddy MacKay offered:
"...We've come so far..." "...I think/feel I'm entitled to your body..." "...got a problem with personal space..."
Use the following elements in your story: knitting needle, motorcycle, dripping paint
I had several ideas for Freddy's sentences but at the last minute the elements popped in. This work is so far untitled, but since I intend on continuing it I hope something comes up. Enjoy! And please stop by to visit the other great Flasher's of this week!
“Sweet heart are you okay in there?”
“Yes, Grandma.” Amanda smiled to herself as she heard her grandmother’s feet shuffle back to the living room. She waited a moment until she heard the traditional sound of her knitting needles steadily clashing against each other.
Amanda sighed. She’d come back to town a week ago to help her grandmother tidy the house before selling it. Now, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to get rid of the old building. There were memories buried in here. Memories of when she was a child: camping in the back patio, running around the kitchen while her mother and grandmother baked a cake, bike riding with her friends... they had spent so many summers at the old town house.
When she became a teenager she stopped coming for a while, convincing her parents that the city was the best place for a 15 year old. Amanda smiled. They allowed it for a year. The summer before her senior year in high school they’d come back to the house. Most of her friends from town had either moved away or gotten into activities of which she had no interest, so she’d spent the summer in the house, reading, drawing, writing, helping out her family…until he came.
Her gaze fell on the window seat. She remembered it as if it had been yesterday.
Amanda was curled up against the window, her knees hugging her chest and her book too close to her face to her mother's liking. She was engrossed on the favorite passage of her favorite book, “Gone with the wind”. Scarlett had just laid eyes on Rhett Butler for the first time when
VROOM VROOM VROOM.
She jumped in her seat and her book fell to the floor. She pushed back her glasses which had slipped to the edge of her nose and looked out the window. Immediately, her eyes fell on the source of the noise: A motorcycle. It was a black and silver killing machine whose motor kept revving loudly and then dying with a sputter. A young boy, probably her age, stood next to it, staring at it intently as if by looking at the thing he could discern what was wrong.
Amanda glared at the young man through the glass. She could clearly tell he was a good for nothing. He had long black hair, badly tied back with a red bandana. He wore black leather trousers and a matching vest. No shirt underneath. If he’d had broad shoulders and a firm chest with a stomach riddled with muscles, then she could have appreciated the effect, but he didn’t. He was too tall, too thin and too lanky. He looked like someone who had grown too much in too little time and hadn’t spread out properly. Amanda narrowed her eyes as she watched his gloved hand grip the bike’s handle.
VROOM VROOM VROOM
A man came out of the house, by his facial expression and raised arms, she could tell that he was chastising the boy. They argued for a few minuted until the young man slumped his shoulders and followed the elder back inside. Amanda smiled, relieved. Peace at last. Picking up her book she returned to Scarlett and Rhett and forgot all about her new neighbor.
Amanda forced herself to look away from the window. She bent over to retrieve the dripping paint brush. Unfortunately, that had not been the last time she'd seen the young man.
To be continued...
Monday, October 10, 2011
I've had the privilege of asking Ms. Nelson a few questions regarding her work. Just keep reading to find out more about this new release and its author.
Will he protect Zakia from the stalker? And if he does will either of them be able to ignore the feelings that have simmered for so long, ready to explode... before danger either draws them together or pulls them apart.
Suspense, danger, love, second chances... sounds intriguing. How about a sneak peak?
“Sorry, Darlin’. Always a cowboy,” he apologized.
He sat on the edge of the bed and struggled to remove his cowboy boots, then disposed of pants, briefs and socks. When he looked up and saw the still smooth, silky skin of her upper torso and full breasts partially covered by her beautiful, long, blonde hair, he had to ask himself how he got to be so lucky. Déjà vu was very much in existence as he admired the woman standing before him. Zakia was still every bit the exquisite, sexy woman she’d been on their wedding night, only now she was trying hard not to giggle.
“What’s so funny,” he asked with a grin as he reached for her.
“Just a little touch of déjà vu going on.”
“I was thinking the same thing. You’re just as beautiful now as you were on our wedding night,” he stated as he pulled her back into his arms.
“Well, I was thinking it funny that you said those exact same words on our wedding night.”
“What words?” he asked, curious and trying to think.
“Sorry, Darlin’. Always a cowboy.”
“Ooohh, those words. It’s true. A cowboy doesn’t go too far without his boots.”
“Did you mean it, Luke?”
“That you still think I’m beautiful.”
“Do I need to install mirrors on every wall in the house?” he teased. “Yes, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and sexily built. Now, shut up and kiss me.”
“Oh, I so like a man who knows what he wants,” she cooed.
When she reached for him, pulling him down for a kiss filled with all the passion he remembered, his heart soared. Gone was the polite restraint they’d held to since her arrival. He kissed her back, longing for more, aching for the promise her lips delivered.
His hands moved to her breasts, rubbing and tweaking the nipples to turgid peaks, then massaging the silken softness until she moaned against his mouth in pleasure. Breaking the kiss, he took one rosy nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping lightly before transferring his attention to the other one.
He worked his way down her body, one kiss at a time, having to keep a tight rein on his control as she breathed his name over and over again. Her body writhed beneath him as he reached her sopping pussy, her unique scent driving him wild as always. He parted her lips and kissed her, rubbing tiny circles on her clit with his thumb. His other hand reached beneath her to fondle her ass as he began sucking her, his tongue laving and prodding her wetness until he could take no more. Rising up, he coaxed her legs apart with his knees and positioned himself. As he looked into her desire-glazed eyes, he moved, pushing into her with one hard thrust.
Then he stilled. It had been as tight as their first time. “Did I hurt you?”
“Uh, uh.” She shook her head as her body began to move, encouraging him to pull out and push into her warmth again.
She grabbed his hips, pulling him closer, deeper, and they fell into a rhythm that told of their familiarity with each other. It was as if he’d gone back in time, back to the days of love and laughter, caring and sharing their lives, completing each other. He thrust in and out, faster, harder, seeking the rapture he’d only found with the woman lying beneath him.
Thought took a long, slow ride after that as they concentrated on catching up on years of lost loving, and he was pleased to note, she still had that deep, husky, pleading note in her voice when she screamed his name.
I'll be right back, I think I need a moment to cool off after that one...
I'm back! After reading that the first thing that pops to mind is:
Elyzabeth (E): Lorraine, What was your inspiration when writing “Zakia and the cowboy”?
Lorraine Nelson (LN): I’ve always loved cowboy stories. Once I picked out names, a location, and began writing the characters seemed to want to tell their own story.
E: I’ve really liked the name Zakia. Where did it come from?
LN: A woman named Zakia phoned the call centre where I work and bingo! I knew I had to use the name in a story. So the novel really evolved from that chance call.
E: What was the greatest challenge when you wrote this novel?
LN: Making it believable. I’ve never been on a ranch in my life, yet I could picture the Thunder Creek Ranch nestled at the foothills of the Rockies.
E: Why cowboys?
LN: Why not? LOL I’ve always loved westerns. I grew up with movies of John Wayne and Clint Eastwood, and books by Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour. (My father read them and I’d snag one whenever I got the chance.)
E: I noticed that “Zakia and the Cowboy” and your soon to be published novel “His Christmas Wish” centre on the role of ex-husbands and ex-boyfriends. How come?
LN: I believe in second chances when the right people are involved. Sometimes, life interferes and communication breaks down, so I like to show that things can work out if you want it to bad enough, given the right circumstances.
E:What are your writing pet peeves?
LN: Typos! I hate typos and poor grammar. I also hate interruptions. I’ve been known to lock the door and turn off the phone when writing. J
E: When and where do you usually write?
LN: I write at my desk in my home office anytime the muse strikes. Usually late at night to avoid said interruptions.
E: What are you working on right now?
LN: I’m working on the 2nd and 3rd books in the Thunder Creek series. It’s proving quite the challenge to keep timelines in sync. J
Thank you so much for having me here today, Elyzabeth!
E: Thank you, Lorraine!
Sunday, October 9, 2011
She recalled the load of files she had with unfinished tales. Always beginning never ending; so unlike life. In life, you always began and you always ended. That was one thing about living, there was an end to it. Always. That was probably why elves, vampires and similar mystical creatures always fascinated her so much: they had never- ending life.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
One, it's great battle music to go through the week and two it has been a great source of inspiration for my current WIP.
Here is a sample of what I've been writing:
Suddenly, a group of men was running through the gate and they were charging. Blood splattered everywhere as swords pierced tender skin. Women screamed and men cried out. Conrad entered the keep with his men. Everywhere he looked was chaos. Men fought, women ran trying to escape capture and rape, and children cried over the loss of their family. In the background, the menacing fire threatened to consume them all.Enjoy!
This week's prompt:
Eric had sworn to himself that after his divorce from his ex, he would never trust a woman again. However, nine months ago he had started a University course and that’s where he had met Georgia. She was perfect in a non-perfect way. Georgia was not tall, she was not thin, nor did she have dashing eyes or a perfect smile. Georgia was just, Georgia. She had a curvy body, with love handles and a round tummy. She had large brown eyes which crinkled when she smiled and teeth that were not one hundred percent straight.
But he didn’t care. Georgia had the sort of laughter that spread to anyone nearby. She had a quick wit and a down to earth attitude. He wasn’t really sure how he had fallen for her and he was quite certain that a lot of people would be surprised at his change in taste; after all, his ex had been a beauty. Claudia had been his college girlfriend. When they were in college she had been the sort of girl that made people turn their heads. The type of girl that people couldn’t help wondering why she was going out with him. He often thought the same, but he kept quiet about it. At first their marriage had been good. Claudia had dropped out of college and had started working as a secretary while he finished his degree and worked part time at several law businesses. With time, things started to go awry. He saw less and less of his picture perfect wife and when he did see her he discovered that she had turned into a spoiled woman that cared nothing for others, not even for him. He tried saving his marriage. He did. He had loved Claudia and he tried with all his heart to retain that feeling but when he found her in the office with her boss…well…that was it. She didn’t ask for forgiveness nor did he require it. They divorced in more or less amicable terms and they both went their own ways. He discovered that with this newfound freedom he could do other things, and after a few months he decided to take the History course he always wanted but never dared because according to them “history has no future”.
Georgia was there from day one. Her voice was soft, reassuring, but loud enough to be heard all over the classroom. Her manner of speaking was so full of enthusiasm that her eyes sparkled when she spoke. Her hands would usually wave in the air and everyone would watch her with rapt attention.
He tried asking her for coffee once, but she had waved him off with a smile and a polite no, thank you. A little afraid of a second rejection he had settled to simply watching her from the back of the class as she lectured. However, during Christmas break he had accidently run across her at a bookshop. They spoke briefly and just when she had been about to leave, he had taken the plunge and asked her out again. Once more, she refused him, although this time she explained. She couldn’t date him because he was her student and it was forbidden by University rules. He had been about to protest but she smiled and left before he could open his mouth.
In January they had returned to the small crowded classroom and things continued as always. Except for one class. It was a lecture on Winston Churchill. Georgia had gone on to explain how the old British Colonel had failed being elected for public office until he was 62 years old. At that time he had said, "Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never - in nothing, great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never, Never, Never, Never give up."
The funny thing about that class had been that while Georgia repeated Churchill’s words her eyes bore into his. Eric couldn’t help feeling that she was trying to tell him not to give up on her. So as winter turned to spring he continued bringing her a warm mug of coffee and speaking to her before class begun. They were his favorite moments of the day; barely a few minutes in which he had the privilege to peak a little into her life.
Now, it would all be over. It was the last lecture and he would never see Georgia again. She had handed back the tests a few minutes ago, her hand lingering a bit as it brushed against his fingers. Her eyes had crinkled in a smile and he felt the back of his neck burn. Then she had moved on.
Everyone clapped and chairs scrapped against the floor as students rose to say their goodbyes. Eric packed his things and observed the room around him one more time, trying to memorize it so that someday he could recall the happy hours he had spent surrounded by those four walls and watching the women he loved. Students crowded around Georgia and it broke his heart to think of even saying goodbye, so with a sigh he walked out of History class.
The patter of soft slippers hitting the linoleum floor reached him just as he turned around.
“Aren’t you going to invite me for a coffee?”
“You’ve given up?” She demanded with a knowing smile.
Eric smiled back. “As Churchill would say, never.”
Victoria Blisse (m/f)http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/
West Thornhill (m/m)http://wthornhillauthor.blogspot.com/
Lindsay Klug (m/f) http://www.ichbineinteufel.blogspot.com/
Sui Lynn (m/m) http://suidlynn.blogspot.com/?zx=57a5d3d27a15dbfa
Freddy MacKay (m/m) http://freddymackay.blogspot.com/
Ryssa Edwards (m/m) http://www.ryssaedwards.net/blog/