Cave Writing

I've been writing like a fiend lately - and LOVING it!!! 

Oh no, between school and writing I've neglected the house. 

Eeek. Where is the sink? Buried under that pile of dishes? No way. 

What do you mean you're out of socks? You have like, twenty pair. Oh, the laundry needs doing?

Yikes! Forget it. I'm going back to my cave. hehehehe

Rock and Roll with me Today!!

Hi to all fellow Readers and Rockers!

I've talked often about how much various songs have influenced the creation of my Malathix Soul series. Well, on Romancing the Book's blog, you now have the opportunity to *listen* to some of the songs which include... Nah, on second thought, you're gonna have to CLICK HERE to see for yourself. 

In a brand new feature Romancing the Book has begun, entitled Playlist, an author (recently yours truly) is able to have posted some of the songs that gave them auditory pleasure with regard to their books. iTune links are provided (how cool!), so if the song rocks you as much as it did me, you have the opportunity to click and download it yourself!

PLUS, as an added BONUS, if my story, Soulless, stirs your interest, you can always click on the book to find out more, read an excerpt and buy it for your own e-library! How much better can it get?

Thanks for reading, thanks for listening, and have a fabulous day!

{Please note that if you click on the picture above, you will have to scroll down a few entries to get to mine. Clicking on the "click here" link will take you directly to my featured blog post.}

Are Your Engines Going?

Well, it's Monday. Are your engines going?

Find out if I'm hitting my Monday off to a running start or dragging butt. What about you? Are you raring to go or pulling yourself along by your fingernails?

Oh, I laugh at the imagery.

Today I'm over at Total E-Bound's Hitting the Hot Spot where I'm discussing the topic of being up or down.

Don't be shy. Drop on in for a spin, and have a fabulous day!

Oh, for the love of Inspiration!

First, you need to read the title of this post in a frustrated means. As in, "Oh, my goodness gracious!"

You see, inspiration is an amazing "thing." Without inspiration, our lives would be very, very dull. No inventions, no entertainments, no excitement. Put me in a loincloth in the middle of a deserted wasteland and call me simple. Damn, wait, even now there are inspirations. :)

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout. For those of us who have active imaginations, we find inspiration in everything.  

Everywhere.

Inspiration hovers, surrounds, and sometimes even clouds all our senses. At times this can be very exciting and invigorating. You snatch onto these ideas and shoot off into a writing frenzy. Characters, plots, descriptions, and narration floods your every pore, demanding entry into your brain and release on that huge area of white we commonly call paper, or the computer screen.

Sometimes, the flood can be a blessing. Our muse is happy and we're fervently working. Yay!

At other times, it's overwhelming. You have files upon files of beginnings, ideas and scenes that were pushed out and left. Forgotten. Taking up space on your hard drive.

On one hand, this is handy. When you find yourself in a writing slump, looking back into these left-for-dead ideas can stir the brain-pot. Maybe one of these ideas really has life beyond what you initially scribbled. Or, maybe reading through your past notes can boost your muse, reminding you that you are a worthy writer, and you'll get that push to get back to the grind.

Then, to take another stance, I go back to the beginning where I state that inspiration is everywhere. When you're trying to dedicate time to certain works-in-progress, you want blinders. Or maybe that's just me. :)  I don't like the oh-so-haughty inspiration when my mind should be wrapped around L and M. Don't distract me with Q and V, even if Q and V want to invite X to come over and play...and of course, X has to bring Z or it's all called off. Whew.

Ah, who am I kidding. L and M can be patient. I know what's going on with them. The party Q and V are throwing is bound to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I mean, not only will X and Z come over, I even heard that F, G and H - those naughty triplets - might drop by, too.

Have a great one and go out and get inspired!

(In case it's difficult to see, the poster states: "Come on over; the orgy's about to begin!" Love the Demotivational Posters. :)

New Release Day for Broken!!

Malathix Soul 2: Broken

Today is the day. It's here!! My futuristic erotic novella, Broken, is now available for your reading pleasure from Changeling Press. The second in the Malathix Soul Series, this story follows Thorn and Yvette as they work to find out what's happened to them. 

Read on for the blurb and an excerpt:

Can the means to an end be their beginning?

Thorn d’Thiem is a man on a mission. Traveling to Earth to kick his sorry brother’s ass back to Malathix is an interruption he can do without. His plan: get to Earth, find his brother, return to their planet and continue working toward their species’ survival.

After years of ridicule, threats and even blackmail, Yvette Butler has learned to hide her half-breed status. Her latest betrayal leaves her needing to escape her job on Earth’s satellite outpost. Her plan: Find a way to get off the outpost, leave Earth behind and find a new job and a new life on another planet.

When the two meet, they see each other as only the means to an end. But when they discover they each hold missing pieces of the other, will they work together to repair what’s broken in them, or will they part ways, leaving only shattered remains?

Excerpt:

Earth Star Command Station, Year 2142

 

Yvette Butler considered herself the picture of perfect calm as she strode out of her boss's office, through the busy little cubicles of Earth Star Command Station and stepped into one of the cooler, empty passageways. Only then did she slump her six-foot, slender frame against the tiled wall.

Lifting her fisted hands, she opened them to reveal pinpricks of blood upon her palms. She'd fought back her shift, but it'd been hard. It'd always been hard when she became angry. Thinking again of her supervisor and what he'd only moments ago "asked" her to do...

"Just... be nice to the male, Yvette. That's all I'm asking. We wouldn't want your little secret to come out now, would we? You know my policy on... half breeds --" He'd whispered the word as though it was cursed. "-- and I know you love your job here."

When her lips curled, he'd spoken again, unforgivingly blunt. "It's simple, Yvette. He will be here tomorrow. Meet that alien personally, satisfy him in whatever way he wants -- being half alien yourself that should be easy -- and you keep your job. Displease him and, well, the next pod to Earth is in three days. It'd be hard, wouldn't it, to find employment with a scathing reference?"

Now she stared at the harsh lights of the passageway ceiling and fought against a fresh wave of anger bubbling up. What she wouldn't give to rip that man's head from his shoulders. Him and his special favors. She sneered. Damn her for trusting, for confiding in him that she was a half breed with a human mother and an alien father. On planet, her background had been found loathsome by the few that knew, but she had thought, had hoped, that working on this station as liaison with aliens, her boss would have been more forgiving.

So much for my dream job. Now, she had no choice. She'd kill herself before doing her boss's dirty work anymore. As soon as she could, she'd leave the station and try to find other work. Maybe on the planet Zartech. Somewhere far away where she wouldn't have to live with concern of how others would treat her. Just because she wasn't full human didn't mean she was trash, and most of the ignorant people she'd met feared even a hint that someone might have alien DNA in their body.

Taking deep, calming breaths, Yvette mentally petted the anger into quiet submission. The ache in her jaw lessened as her gums shifted back to normal. The pain in her fingers eased as the claws, which had attempted to erupt from her hands, reformed back into sleek fingers tipped with short, trim nails. She rolled her neck and allowed herself two extra minutes to tamp everything down.

Now to figure out what to do.

"Yvette Butler, please report to the Admittance Room. Yvette Butler, please report at once to the Admittance Room."

She sighed. Her plans to leave would have to wait. She pushed herself off the wall and made sure the tight-fitting pants and shirt of her uniform were smooth and neat. Running her fingers through her thick mass of black and white hair, Yvette inhaled deeply.

She pressed on the communications system panel in the wall. "This is Yvette Butler. I'll be right down. Can you give me a head's up about what's needed?"

"I'm not sure, Ms. Butler, but Aaron is with an alien and he's asking for you. Says he has a meeting with you?"

"Thank you."

Making her way to the AR room, Yvette couldn't for the life of her remember a meeting but didn't let it faze her. This was why she'd applied for the job in the first place. The chance to meet all kinds of aliens and to help them solve issues, or even act as a translator between themselves and Earth. Since she'd apparently scheduled it, this meeting could only be good.

Yvette stepped through a set of sliding doors leading to a spacious room. This area was where aliens first stopped to request entry to Earth. She scanned the room until she spotted a co-worker, Aaron, on the far side. He apparently had been looking for her, because when he caught her eye, he gestured wildly to the tall alien that dwarfed him. The being turned, and Yvette's breath caught in the back of her throat.

The male who now faced her could be described as wet-dream perfection. Standing well over six and half feet and dressed in dark brown pants that molded to strong thighs, wearing a shirt of similar color that laced at the throat, his style reminded her of the old pirate garb she'd seen in images of centuries past. Boots of a darker brown fit tightly over muscled calves, and thick gloves covered his hands.

He stood there, hands placed on his hips as if he were irritated and stared her down from across the room.

Time seemed to stand still.

The moment broke when he dropped his arms to his sides, tipped his chin down a fraction, and without shifting his gaze from her, began to stalk her way. Yes, she decided quickly, he stalked. She stifled the urge to step back as he drew near. Damn, he looked pissed. What the hell had she done? Her day seemed to be going from bad to worse. So much for thinking this call would be better than what her boss wanted her to do.

His bald head gleamed under the embedded lights overhead. A fierce looking face -- or at least a fierce expression -- made his sharp features appear to be made of stone. As he drew nearer, she noticed the darkness along either side of his neck was not an upturned collar as she'd first thought, but something that looked like tattoos that seemed to wrap around his throat from the back of his neck.

He stopped not two feet from her, and she was surprised she didn't have to overly crane her neck to look him in his eyes, swirls of green and black. Beautiful. His eyes could easily mesmerize her.

Aaron bounced around them, trying to give her information that didn't seem to make it into her brain. She studied this alien, who was studying her. Intriguing. She felt like she knew this male, or could know him.

"Quiet, human," Thorn growled at Aaron, and Yvette tightened her lips to prevent her smile from emerging when the little man shut up. She had always thought the little runner a bit like a lapdog. This imposing alien just proved her theory right.

"Yvette Butler." The tall male stated her name, wanting confirmation.

She nodded her head in affirmation and in greeting. "I am. And you are?"

"I am Thorn d'Thiem. I believe I notified you some time ago about my arrival..."

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The Many, The Proud...The Ignorant

We all have our likes and dislikes. A show of hands, please:

Who loves a gruesome horror flick?
Who loves a spine-tingling thriller?
Who loves a sweet historical romance?
Who loves a tear-jerker drama?
Who loves a panty-wet erotic romance?

If you raised your hand to all of the above, lucky you! Plus, note that this post is NOT directed to you, but read on because you might know someone to whom this is directed.

Why the pinball questions above? To show that we all have different tastes. Even if, for example, I like a sweet historical, but the thought of picking one up makes you gag, we could still be friends, right? We all can't like the same things. I'm still the same person, the same Mom, the same wife and daughter as I was before you knew my treasured interests. Now, if we both happen to like the same things, great. We could become friends faster, but even then, our likes are going to diverge. And. That's. Okay.

Step two, our likes are personal. We don't always share our personal likes with our families, or specifically, our kids. Sometimes because people around us aren't "into" our likes. Sometimes, we are prudent and know that our likes are adult in nature, and our kids are not adults. They are kids, with innocent minds and lives and we want to preserve this for as long as possible.

Another question: Would you take your little one (and I'm talking elementary-to-middle school age especially) to see any of the Jason movies? Would you discuss details of your sex life in the school's lunchroom? Would you hand your beginning reader your latest copy of Erotic BedTime Stories?

Of course not! At least, I would hope not!

I shake my head, however, at the number of ignorant people out there who believe just this. Why? Because I - we - read and write erotic romance. Yes, the "E" word. Erotica. Erotic. Exotica. Call it what you will. If you're still in the dark, I'm talking about books that contain graphic sex between consensual ADULTS where the plot lies in developing relationships and love and mutual respect.

If you are not into this, hey, fine. That's your thing. I CAN RESPECT YOUR DECISION. I'm not going to shove this down your throat. We don't have to discuss our reading tastes at all. But don't you dare brag about knowing someone who's a writer, then turn around and cut me off because you believe I write "porn," and you're suddenly too good to associate with me. The fact that you think any revealing sex qualifies as porn, shows how ignorant (and I'm being nice here) you are. Save face and keep quiet, okay.

And, and, (yes, I'm steamed now), let's not forget that since I am now apparently scum, my kids can no longer associate with your kids, because my kids will corrupt your kids. PLEASE.

I stand firm on my soap box, raise the megaphone to my lips and forcefully pronounce, "GROW UP, PEOPLE!!" I mean, just because you obviously never have sex, and your offspring must have been adopted because in your view sex is the ultimate sin, doesn't mean it doesn't exist. It doesn't mean I share every stinkin' detail of my life with my kids.

Really. Do you? 

Okay. I'm cool now. Had to get that off my chest. If you know people like this, give me a high-five, because I know I can't be the only one. If you haven't met individuals like this, count yourself lucky.

Disclaimer: While I did get on my soapbox in this post, it is all in the name of hypocrisy. In day-to-day life, I am more quiet. For example, only a small, tiny handful of people who know me, know what I write. It does burn me up. It's my hope that my deep belief in this subject will eventually work its way out to encompass all of me. Oh, you want to know why I keep quiet, day-to-day? Honestly, it's so I don't have to worry about my kids being ostracized when they'd have no idea why. It's a sad, sad world we live in.

Visit Me This Week!!

Stop by this week and visit a a fantastic blog called Full Moon Bites. {Love the catchy title!}

Beginning today and through this entire week, I'm Holly's featured author for Author of the Week. **Yea**

Thank You Holly!

Stop by, say hi, and see what makes me tick. And, if something strikes your curiosity, post a comment. I'd love to hear from you!!

See you there!

Where Do You Draw the Line?

Plays, television, movies, books, even music…. All these are different forms of entertainment. Do you find yourself able to accept words, motives, actions or events in one form of media, and not another? Are you a no-holds-barred type of person across the board? Have you ever given this any thought?

For me, my acceptance level is different for each type of media. For example, I love to read horror stories, but I’m not a huge fan of horror movies. I can read graphic details of a violent act, but to see it played out on the movie screen, I’ll more often turn my head than watch full-on.

Another parallel deals with words of hate. Not a good thing to ingest, anyway you look at it, but an artist has his or her reasons to portray something hateful through lyrics or characters. I can watch a play with characters that may be distasteful, but to listen to a song where blatant hate comes across in the lyrics is difficult for me. I will usually turn the song off.

Last, a favorite topic for many, deals with the more intimate issue of sex. Reading, seeing, or listening? Which do you prefer? Does it matter? To many, yes, it does matter. It depends on what you want to get out of the experience. Do you want the sex as a quick means to get yourself off? Do you need to see the sex to fantasize over that “if only,” aspect we all feel from time to time? Or do you read/see/listen for the sex as a way to understand the characters and their interactions more? Finally, how comfortable are you with the sex aspect at all?

Being a reader and writer of erotic romance, the topic of sex is pretty much an every day event for me. Am I jaded by this? Perhaps, a little. I have a difficult time reading or watching a movie where the characters allude to sex, but omit this important factor. No, I don’t have to see the full-on graphic nature of the act (although that can be exciting, I won’t lie), but yes, having the sex there is important.

Why? Let me put a question to you: If you are involved with someone, is your sex life important to you? Do you get intimate only to “get your rocks off,” or do you want the physical touch of someone else because it makes you human? Being intimate, having sex, making love, screwing, f**king, call it what you will, is an act of sharing something private about yourself with someone else. It is an honest, vulnerable act that leaves you exposed in so many ways to your partner(s). 

Now why do I want this in what I read/see/listen to? First, it has to be, seem or feel real. I do not like plastic sex. I don't care for stories where the goal is to show how many times and ways Tab A can fit into Slot B, C, or D. If this were the case, I'd simply watch porn all day and trash everything I write. And I shudder at this thought. How hollow would this be? 

Overall, it is my hope, whether you take in the voyeur aspect or not, to share the fact that the sex act, is more than an act. It is a way for two (or more) people to make a connection: deeper, farther, and more intense than they could be without.