It Goes On and On and On and On...

I used to consider myself successful at multi-tasking, but now I'm beginning to question my capabilities. The more I do, the more I have left to do.  How does that work? 

This morning I awoke to 300 emails, even though I'm on digest.  I skim the digests, but all I see in the subject line are: excerpt, promo, contest, new release.  OMG, it seems that everyone who was a "reader" when I first started this venture is now an author.  I spent several hours yesterday at Love Romance Cafe's big bash and anything I posted was lost in the avalanche of emails.  I pictured authors everywhere huddled at their computers, vying desperately for the attention of a "reader."  Yes, I know authors read, too.  I do, but I'm looking to tap into someone who isn't competition.  Is that selfish?  I don't think so. All who have books available are hoping to find the mother lode of readers and achieve a best-selling status.  Honestly, it's more like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

When I got to my individual emails, I found the usual few word posts: Thank you, I'm sorry, I forgot, I'd like to blog, put me down, happy birthday, happy holidays, condolences, and of course, I'm blogging at ______today, please stop by.

As much as I want to support my fellow authors, if I visited every blog to which I've been invited, I would never get anything else done. So how logical am I if I expect my fellow authors to visit mine?

I've already given up Farmville on Facebook, taken a leave of absence from my critique group, gone on digest for most of my yahoo loops, and tried to find a new avenue of promotion on the Amazon Communities, only to be beaten to a pulp by some of the folks there who are very territorial.  It seems there are those who don't like authors who talk about their own work.  What's up with that?  If I don't, who will?  I still crave Farmville, but I'm staying strong.  I imagine my crops have all withered and died, and I've probably been reported for cruelty to my animals.  I'm sure my farm is generally in  bad repair, but there's no way I can have a look without wanting to fix everything.  At least I kicked the habit on my own and didn't need counseling.

Honestly, the towel is looking pretty good lately.  I've considered throwing it in a few times, or at least waving a white flag, but I'm too invested in my love of writing to quit.  I keep visiting shared links and viewing success stories written by authors who had sold hundreds if not thousands of copies on Kindle. I want to post that announcement just once.

I have several new releases in 2011, so maybe one of them will be my ticket to stardom... well at least a few sales.  :)

*waving hi*

Hello all!
My name is Kallysten, and I've been invited by Ginger to join in the blogothon fun. I write mostly supernatural/fantasy romance published by Alinar, but I read anything as long as the relationship between the hero and heroine sets out fireworks!

I thought I'd share a bit of my latest release with you. Blurred Nights is set in a future in which beast-like demons are invading the world. The stories two vampires heroes and the human heroine fight these demons while trying to figure out where they stand in relation to each other...

~~~

“You two check inside that building. We’ll stand guard.”

Elliot nodded and stepped toward the ruins Kate had indicated first, Sky on his heels. Before they even entered the building, the fog swirling around them had made them disappear. Kate turned her back to the ruins and swept her eyes around her. She couldn’t see more than a few yards away, but that didn’t stop her from trying to see, or hear, approaching demons.

“Anything?” she asked in a whisper.

Just feet away to her right, Blake took in a deep breath.

“Citrus shampoo,” he said after a moment. “Lavender soap. Minty toothpaste.”

The words made no sense. Kate turned to him, frowning in confusion. His impish smile clued her in as to what he was talking about—her. Her frown turned into a glare.

“Blake! Can you be serious for a minute?”

“I can. Just not when you stand upwind from me. You’re too distracting.” He took a few steps forward and breathed in deeply through his nose again. “Nothing recent. The freshest trail is at least a day old.”

Still miffed, Kate didn’t reply. Her back very straight, she kept watch as attentively as though he had announced that an entire army of demons was advancing on them. She felt suddenly very self-conscious, and couldn’t help bringing a strand of hair to her nose. She couldn’t smell a thing. She hurriedly let go of her hair when Blake turned halfway toward her, but his fleeting smile made it clear he had noticed. She looked back toward the building. She could hear Elliot’s voice, though not enough to understand his words. He seemed to be coming back out.

“I’ll check the building across the street. Be right back.”

Her heart jumped in her chest at Blake’s words. She whirled back toward him, but he was already disappearing inside the ruins on the other side of the street—again. Couldn’t he understand the simple idea of not going anywhere alone?

“Stand guard,” she said quickly to Elliot as he and Sky emerged from the building. “We’re checking across the street.” She hurried after Blake, her hand clenching over the hilt of her sword. This time, she was going to kick his ass.

She had to stop just at the entrance of the building. Outside, the gray fog echoed the light of the almost full moon, bathing everything into a penetrating light. With the roof of this house for the most part intact, her eyes struggled to adapt to the sudden darkness. She stepped inside cautiously, her eyes darting around her in search of Blake.

“This way,” Blake whispered somewhere ahead and to her right.

Blood thundering into her veins, she advanced a little faster. Had he found the breach? Could it be—

The attack came from the side, swift, silent and unexpected. Just as she passed through a doorway, a hand closed over her fingers on the hilt of her sword and pulled her forward. She tried to resist, but found herself with her back to a wall, a strong body in front of her, her arm pinned to the side, the sword useless and out of her control. The first flash of fear receded when she realized who had attacked her. This time, Blake had gone too far, she thought. She started telling him as much, but before she could say more than a word, his mouth brushed against hers. She froze in shock, eyes going wide in the near darkness. Blake leaned in again, caressing her lips with his with more gentleness than she had imagined him capable of—not that she had ever imagined how he kissed. His left hand remained on her right, holding her sword away, though not as tightly. The right cupped the back of her head, his thumb caressing her cheek lightly.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the first night I saw you,” he murmured, his mouth so close to hers that she felt the words as well as heard them. “Can I?”

Kate wanted to push him away and punch him for daring take her by surprise like this. She wanted to glare at him, call him a moron, curse him, laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of what he was saying.
Yet she didn’t move, and all she managed to say was a stuttering, “Wh—what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

...

~~~

If you liked this and would like to read more, the first chapters are available as a sample on my website at http://original.kallysten.net, along with other excerpts, free stories and a bi-monthly audiobook podcast! Also, until the end of the month my entire back catalogue is 25% OFF on Alinar.

Thank you Ginger for the opportunity to blog here, and thank you to all readers!

A Good Question

Well, the chat is over and I had a lot of fun. Yay! There were a few loyal readers there, a couple of my fellow authors from Eternal Press and some brand new faces as well. One of those, brand new faces won a copy of The Duchess, so with any luck, she'll become a fan soon too.

That's a weird word for me. "Fan". Even "Loyal Reader" bothers me. They sound somehow condescending, or arrogant. Which is never, ever, ever my intent. I value my 'fans' more than I could ever put to words -- and putting things to words is my job :) Maybe instead of fans I should call them 'frans'. You know, friends/fans? No? Well, I'm still working on it. I will find a suitable word. Someday.

While I allow my subconscious mind to work on that problem, I'd like to go back to the subject of the chat last night. There were some great questions. Unfortunately, because of the format being a live chat, I had to keep my answers pretty short. I'd like to elaborate on one of them here...then I'll share another spicy excerpt from The Duchess.

Q: What is your favorite part about being published? Your least favorite part?

My favorite part about being published is having people read my story and tell me they enjoy it. I can honestly say that for me honest feedback means more to me than any royalty cheque. It's not all about ego either, I enjoy constructive feedback that helps me improve a story almost as much as fan mail that tells me how much someone loved it. Almost :)

My least favorite part about being published is that the book is done. I wrote The Duchess three years ago and it's a great book, but my writing style has developed and improved since then, as everyone's does, so in some ways it hurts me to know the novel is finished. There is no more room for me to revise it. No, I really can't move a comma if I want to, it's done.

Check back tomorrow to find out why Halloween is my favorite holiday and to get a special Halloween gift from me!

For now, I'll leave you with another excerpt from The Duchess. Again, this is not an explicit excerpt, but it's quite steamy and very suggestive. When a peasant doesn't show the duchess the respect she deserves, he has to face the consequences -- across her knee.

~*~

"Please, milady," he pleaded, as close to begging as he'd ever been in his adult life. "Please, I'm sorry."

"Oh, you will be." She chuckled, reaching behind him to pat his bottom playfully. When she spoke next, however, her words seemed cold as ice and brooked no discussion nor debate. "Now do as you are told and lay across my lap."

Moving stiffly, like an automaton, he knelt at her side and then, after one last long pleading look at her, leaned over so that her lap supported his upper body, making his bottom easily accessible to her right hand.

"Mmm...good boy," the duchess purred. She let one hand drift down the line of his back and over the curve of his buttocks in much the same way that one might stroke a cat. "Good boy..."

Gabriel stiffened beneath her touch and mentally bristled at the way she spoke to him, but did not move nor speak, choosing instead to shut his eyes and wish for this to be over as soon as possible.

Over and over again, her gloved hand caressed his back and draped itself over his ass. It alternated between being as soft as a feather and a heavier, yet still gentle touch. Over and over again she petted him, and slowly he felt his muscles relax.

It started in his shoulders; the knots began to loosen as the tension to left them. Then it spread, sweeping down into his upper back and then his lower. Finally it moved down into his butt, and further, into his legs. After a few minutes, he found himself quite relaxed and at ease as he knelt with his bottom up, waiting to be spanked. Still, she stroked him. Gabriel found that he had begun to feel quite sleepy—most of his anger was slowly worn away by the rhythmic, soothing sensation of her gloved hand moving down the length of his body again and again. Then, just as he'd begun to forget how much he resented being put in this position and had almost determined to let go of his anger, she did it.

She stroked him once more, from the top of his head, her fingers tangling gently in his long hair and massaging his scalp as she trailed her hand through it, over his shoulders and down the length of his back. He let out a soft sigh of contentment, and she struck. Reaching his bottom, she lifted her hand from him for the first time and brought it down again hard on the fullest part of his ass.

Gabriel felt the shock all the way through his body. His eyes snapped open and his mouth gaped. She'd actually hit him! The bitch was giving him a spanking!

<3
Rhonda Lee

Today's The Day!

Well, today is the day. It's the day of my first ever live chat and I'm incredibly nervous. It's like that 'first day of school' kind of nervousness, only much, much worse.

I'm going to be chatting live at Romance Junkies tonight at 9pm EST (details here) and I'm worried I'll go there and spend the whole time talking to the moderator. I'm sure they will be a very nice person, but how crushing would that be for my ego?

As incentive to try and bribe get as many people to come hang out with me as I can, I'm giving away a free copy of my novel, The Duchess, to one lucky chatter. The Duchess is a historical BDSM novel. If you like sweet romances with happily-ever-after endings, this one isn't for you. However, if you like kinky sex scenes so hot they threaten to set your monitor on fire, you'll love The Duchess.

Please allow me to share a short excerpt from the novel with you, to try and entice you to come hang out with me for your chance to win a copy. This excerpt is not explicit but it is extremely suggestive.

~*~

Tasting herself wasn't a new experience for the duchess, but having a man standing inches away while she did it was. He watched her every move, unblinking. His cock ached for release and his moan echoed around the chamber, all because of her. This thought gave her a surge of pleasure and made her fingers taste even better than usual. She savored every drop as she licked them clean before waggling them under the peasant's nose.

"Do you like how I smell, Ferrin?" she purred, her voice teasing, taunting.

"Yes, milady. God, yes." Ferrin drew her scent into himself, the sweetly pungent aroma of her most sacred place. He sucked it in through his nostrils and held it there, resisting the urge to snake out his tongue and steal a taste, hoping against hope to sample it from the source.
Seeing the desire in his eyes, chiseled upon his face and thrusting out from his crotch, the duchess felt her knees grow weak. Unwilling to show this unworthy peasant how he affected her—or, more accurately, how this situation affected her—she took a step back and laughed bitterly.

"Run home, little peasant—run home to your wife and see if her cunt smells as good to you as mine does."

The looks of absolute shock, shame and humiliation that crossed Ferrin's face in succession only served to make her laugh louder, harder.

He stood as though glued to the floor, his face flushed, his manhood aching, crying out for release, disbelieving what he'd just heard.

"Milady?"

"You heard me, boy—run home and see if your wife makes your cock stand and call out for her the way it screams for me."

Turning abruptly on her heel, the duchess snatched her skirt from the ground and headed toward one of the doorways at the back of the room. Ferrin stood, unmoving, still in shock at the betrayal of his marriage vows. When she reached the door she turned, her hand resting upon the knob.

"But Ferrin? Come back three days from now, and bring her with you."

"Bring...bring my wife to court?" the hapless man stammered.

The duchess nodded. "Yes. And Ferrin? You don't want to disappoint me."

<3
Rhonda Lee

Eliza's Hope by Vicki Gaia

Thank you Ginger for having me the next two days to celebrate the launching of your blog! I'm going to start out with my latest published book - Eliza's Hope - an Edwardian romance set in New York City. I've posted a blurb and excerpt for your readers to enjoy. More about my writing and books can be read at:

http://www.vickigaia.com
http://vgaia.blogspot.com ~ shoes from the Bata Shoe Museum!

Eliza's Hope can be purchased in ebook format or paperback!
http://www.enspirenpress.com/ElizasHope.htm
http://www.fictionwise.com/eBooks/eBook49932.htm?cached

My book videos can be seen at YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/vlgaia

Eliza Lily is a woman harboring a terrible secret she cannot fully recall. With her past exposed, and her reputation ruined, she leaves for New York with her guardian - William Bennett and his sister, Jewel.

Hoping to forge a new life for herself, will her past come to haunt her future happiness?

Eliza Lily's fragmented memories torment her of the terrible day she fled Jeb Harris, her foster parent. William Bennett finds Eliza by the river with blood on her dress. She insist its from an animal, but being an avid hunter, he knows better. Ignoring the inner alarm in his head, he makes a decision that will forever change his life. He brings Eliza home to live with him and his sister, Jewel.

When ugly rumors resurface years later, Eliza and Jewel take shelter with William who now lives in New York. He plans to marry Eliza to a suitable gentleman who can give her a home and safety from her past. Eliza thwarts his plans in her quest for social change. To make matters worse, stirrings of love for this exasperating women challenge his determination.

Even in a city of millions, Eliza's past once again resurfaces. Only by going back to the scene of her lost memories can she hope to discover the truth. But will the truth set Eliza free or dash all hope?


Excerpt:

Eliza's Hope, Published 2007 Grace Publishing / Enspiren Press Gorrie, Ontario, Canada
www.enspirenpress.com
Printed in the USA
Copyright © 2007 VICKI GAIA
PRINT ISBN 978-0-9739502-8-1


"Remember when I taught you to swim. You screamed your head off."

His deep voice brought her back to the present. She frowned. "Because you threw me in!"

"It's how Pa taught me." He grinned.

"What a fib. I'm beginning to wonder if you ever tell the truth, William Bennett."

William’s teasing hit her like a gust of wind, breezing over her skin. When his lips parted into a smile, a fierce sensation washed over her. His eyes darkened to a smoldering shade of blue. Eliza pulled back as if slapped. She hitched up her skirt and tucked it into her sash, taking off down the slope.

“You’re on.” Her only course of action was to escape, get away fast as possible before she did something stupid, like kiss him.

William whooped and fell in step behind her. His panting whooshed past her ear before he sped by. She stepped aside to admire his backside. At the lake’s edge, he stripped off his shirt and shucked down his denims, unlacing his boots and kicking them off along with his socks. He left on his knee-length drawers and did a belly dive off the boulder into the lake.

"Whew-hoo, it's invigorating." He splashed the water with his hands, sending a spray up to the shore. "Are you coming in? Or, are you chicken?" He mimicked a ‘gobble - gobble’ and splashed the water up to the shoreline.

"That’s a turkey you dodo,” she laughed.

“Chicken, turkey…you’re making excuses.”

Eliza removed her shirtwaist and skirt, and untied her boots, leaving her shoes and stockings next to her pile of clothes. She unlaced her corset and kept on her camisole and drawers. From the corner of her eye, she saw William treading water, his gaze intently focused on her, his goofy smile turned serious. Taking a deep breath, she rushed into the lake and let out a scream, the cold water shocking her skin, quickly stealing her breath.

This seemed to snap William out of his daydream because he dived underneath the surface, and tugged at her feet.

Wrestling loose from his grip, she bobbed up and laughed with abandon. The freedom of letting go, the sparkling crystals reflecting off the lake, all of this made her forgot about her troubles. She floated on her back and let the water bring her into its protection.

William swam in circles, nudging her side. "I'll race you to the boulder."

Here was the playful Will, the boy she’d loved, and she grinned, and brought her palm down on the surface of the water, sending a giant spray towards his face.

William yelped and hollered, making a racket, and Eliza laughed at his antics. He swam up to her, his eyes roaming down her breasts, an unfathomable curve of his lips. She looked down at her underclothes sucked to her skin. Horrified to see the outline of her nipples through the transparent camisole, the dark peaks clear as the sky above. Dying from embarrassment, Eliza twisted away, but William dived underneath her and flipped her over.

She came up sputtering, and out for blood. “Why, you…you polecat!”

His mirthful laughter cascaded across the lake. “Come and get me if you can,” he taunted, and took off across the lake.

Eliza picked up the gauntlet but she wasn’t fast enough. William slowed down and turned, and she ran smack into him. His hands grazed her breasts, before settling on her waist.

“Whoa, I’m out of breath,” he said, but he held her up without a problem.

Their closeness sent goose bumps up her arms despite the warmth of the sun. His musky fragrance and the pressure of his hands on her skin evoked a desire to let them roam wherever he chose.

“I want to do what’s best for you. I didn’t mean to upset you the other day,” he said.

“Tell me why you stayed away?” Her hands slipped to his wrists, and she held on, stalling him in the water.

“Time slipped away,” he said before sinking below the surface. He shot up and combed back his hair with his hand, his chin skimming the water. “I’m sorry for not coming home sooner.”

“You haven’t answered my question. I didn’t ask for an apology.”

He kept a hold on her arm, and let out a gust of air. “I had to make it on my own. To prove Pa wrong. Show him I could do better, much better than he ever did.”

“But we always believed in you.”

“And you and Jewel are the only two people I care about. Never doubt it for a minute.”

Eliza brought up her hand to his cheek. Suddenly his face shut down, and a moan crooned from his throat as he pushed away. He swam towards the shore using powerful strokes. She swore he was running away from her.