Inspiration

I’m pretty lucky to live in such a beautiful area. We have a lake, mountains and the most striking desert scenery.
I find inspiration all around, in the breathtaking sunsets, sun-painted cloud formations and mysterious moon phases I can see right outside my house.
These inspiring natural sights often find their way into my stories, especially the moon which plays an important role in tales of myth and magic.
Open your eyes. Inspiration is all around you. All you have to do is take the time to notice.

Excerpt from The Bear Goddess:

Moonlight spilled into the cave in an ethereal glow. She padded barefoot across the cold stone floor of the cave. Maggie stirred from her perch on a tall thin rock formation. Callisto searched through her supply of herbs and potions in the clay jars sitting on the natural ledge. She grabbed the jar containing a nightshade potion and hurried back to her warm bed. After draping the blanket around her shoulders, she opened the jar. A strong odor tickled her nose. She was careful to drink a small amount of the poison, just enough to help deepen her trance state.

After sealing the jar, she settled into a sleeping position and focused her thoughts on Pan. Closing her eyes, she sensed the cave spinning around her. The sensation tickled her stomach. The moonlight grew brighter against her closed eyes. Then only the pitch-black darkness of a tunnel filled her vision. A nightingale singing rang inside the passageway. In her vision, she felt herself step through the tunnel, following the birdsong as if she had no control over her motions. As if she were under an enchantment.

She walked down steps into a familiar-looking cave. Pan’s sanctuary. The god sat on a stool, playing his reed flute that sounded just like a nightingale. The song filled her head, each note weaving a spell into her mind like the tiny silver threads of a magical cobweb.

The dream changed and Callisto was in the forest where she had faced the boar, but she stood in a different spot hidden in the trees. Peering out of the trees, she saw herself facing the boar. It was an odd feeling to be outside her body and see herself. The boar charged her. She winced at the sight of herself being struck by the boar, feeling again the painful effects of the silver. She tried to move, but her feet stuck to the ground. When she looked down, a scream caught in her throat. Instead of human legs and feet, her lower half was the body of a goat.

She awoke from her trance, her throat raw from screaming.

Kelley Heckart, Historical fantasy romance author
Captivating...Sensual...Otherworldly
http://www.kelleyheckart.com
http://kelleysrealm.blogspot.com/
http://twitter.com/CelticChick

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kelley-Heckart/111838455604

New beginnings and spring cleaning

It’s spring here where I live and everything is blooming, even the cactus plants with their lethal thorns—beauty and danger. Bees are gathering pollen and animals are mating. New beginnings abound. All of this has a way of making me feel like getting out and getting things done—inside and outside the house. I feel rejuvenated and motivated to set new goals and clean.

Beauty among dangerous thorns.

In full bloom, our Palo Verde tree is filled with buzzing bees.

 

I wonder if this is where the term ‘spring cleaning’ came from, so I looked it up. It’s possible the origins of this date back to the Persian New Year, which falls on the first day of spring when everything in the house is thoroughly cleaned--"khooneh tekouni" means shaking the house.  The Scottish tradition of New Year’s cleaning on Hogmanay (Dec. 31) is also believed to be related to this. The origin of spring cleaning can also be traced to the ancient Jewish practice of cleaning before Passover.

Happy spring, everyone!

“Yes.” He rubbed the dark stubble on his chin. “I cannot bring you unclothed into a village full of lusty centaurs.”

The Bear Goddess

Kindle Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P74X0WY

Trade Paperback Buy Link on amazon.com:

http://www.amazon.com/Bear-Goddess-Book-Arcadia/dp/1502982684/ref=asap_B002BMOQ3C_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1415503605&sr=1-7

 

Kelley Heckart, Historical fantasy romance author

Captivating...Sensual...Otherworldly

http://www.kelleyheckart.com

http://kelleysrealm.blogspot.com/

http://twitter.com/CelticChick

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Kelley-Heckart/111838455604

Let's Talk B Words

Budget! I'm referring to the budgeting of time. Any author's life is filled with a multitude of responsibilities including family, friends, not to mention that most of us have a day job. I mention friends and family as responsibilities because we'd be awfully lonely without those we love in our lives, so they deserve our time and consideration. So then, it becomes doubly important that we budget our time for writing and promoting.

I belong to several yahoo groups as well as Linkedin, Twitter, and Triberr. These are all things that I am part of in order to chat with readers and promote my erotic romance books. I check emails each morning and usually before bed. In between, it becomes a matter of budgeting my time. After all, I'm the main one who cooks and cleans, so if I want to work on the next book, then I better make good use of my time.

Ah, another crucial B word…Book! Writing the next book needs to be our first priority as authors. Readers look forward to our next new book whether we are writing a series or just singular stories. As a reader myself, I know this to be true. Immersing ourselves in the creation of a story can also be thought of as our temporary escape from our demanding lives. We should enjoy what we write, not worrying whether the next story will sell or not. Each new book deserves the love of an unencumbered heart. While it'd be great if the next book made us rich, we can't write something worthy of reading under such pressure.

Our last B of the day is Blogs! Having recently started my own blog, I've come to realize that promotion work needs to be done, and done with enough efficiency not to leave us exhausted. This is one reason I've always loved doing guest blogs. I keep it to one or two a month, which allows me to meet an intriguing new group of readers from each blog. Exciting fun!  

So what are your thoughts on Budgeting your time? I've tried multi-tasking but dinners tend to come out crispy and dark. Lol. Especially, if a particular scene is particularly hot and spicy.

How do you manage your time in order to get the next book written?  

Mary Corrales

Website

Blog

Twitter

Why Care About SEO

The creepy crawlers are coming. They've been up in your junk already. I write of the spiders and crawlers, those creeping tools the search engines use to catalog your web content. They make decisions we never see, which is why SEO is critical.

What is SEO?
It's an acronym for Search Engine Optimization. If you write paranormal romance, you probably want your site listed as high as possible when a potential reader googles "paranormal romance." But if you haven't signaled to the search engines that you write in that genre by mentioning the keywords on your site frequently, then good luck. Here are a few simple tricks to optimize your web presence.

SEO is Simple
Labels and tags can do the trick somewhat, but the actual content of your posts and web copy must include clues to help the engines. You don't want to make your writing sound fake or awkward, but mentioning a keyword three times in three paragraphs can improve your chances of being discovered. Using the keywords in a heading also helps.

Keep It Fresh
If you don't blog but have a website, change the copy on the site at least once a month, more if you can stand it. Incorporate your blog with your website or start an Updates/News section. Search engines look for changes when they send the crawlers out to find content. If your site hasn't changed in a while, your place in searches drops and the crawlers come back less frequently. It actually makes sense because there are a gazillion sites on the web that are abandoned or irrelevant. Don't become one by default.

Search for SEO Examples
If you want to drive traffic to sell your erotic steampunk high-concept novel, google the keywords first and see what the competition is doing. You can learn from others about what works in searches.


Find an Expert
Or ebook. Or website on SEO. Tons of info is available for free. This post is a tiny push to get you started and myself started, too. I'm learning as I go, and advice helps. Good luck making your site SEO friendly.

Jennifer Fulford
@jmfwriter
www.livingonink.com

Frugal Writing

"Axe unnecessary words and tighten your work."

Huh? What does that mean? Well, according to Stephen King, he uses this formula:

A good second draft = the first draft, less ten percent.

Growing up, my mother's best friend was the epitome of frugality. She could split a dollar ten different ways and still have change left over.

Here's an example, and I kid you not:

Auntie would buy two-ply toilet paper and rip the sheets off at four square intervals. Usually while watching evening TV, she would separate the two-ply into piles. Then fold the now one-ply, and stack them in an empty tissue box with the top cut off. She'd put this box of precut TP near the toilet (no spinning rolls in that house!) to make the experience more convenient for the…partaker.

How can we apply this to editing and have the completed results not change the flow, the plot, the very writing itself? Thus, the Stephen King formula.

If you're like me, you tighten the sentences and realize you're losing a huge amount of work. The word count drops, and nobody wants loss. But the revision is good! Bright, tight, and condensed. Your crit partners are doing some type of Tahitian bootie shake in your rewrite honor!

What have I done when this happens? I add a few new scenes if my edited version comes out too short.

My parent's trashcan never filled to the rim. They recycled before recycling was ever thought chic. And I bet they can still out-trash anybody out there.

• Planning the garden on a hand-drawn chart, we grew our own vegetables like a writer creates a storyline. The seeds took consideration. The rows planned out. Space and water, as with characters and tension, were important factors as the plants matured, growing ready for harvest

• My parents' cupboard had limited amounts of pre-packaged food; just like a writer should come to the keyboard with fresh ideas. Nothing someone else already created.

• Left over banana peels, bones, potato skin, etc., either fed our chickens, horses, cows, cats, and dogs, or contributed to the compost pile. Nothing, and I repeat, nothing was ever wasted. As writers we create whole chapters which are sometimes cut in the editing process. I save all those pages to possibly use later. Maybe to apply after "tightening" and I need to increase the word count again.

• Tin cans, plastic packaging, cardboard--all the 'good waste' went into the recycling bag. Used envelopes, junk mail, and old calendar pages became scratch paper.

Many things in daily life can be repurposed. I'm not talking about crap lying around your house, I mean life in general. Don't waste your down time while pushing a cart around the grocery store. Drink in the sights, smells, sounds, and variety of people.

Look in their carts! (You'll never see them again, what do you care?) Note what they wear. Some of my best tension ideas come from watching people in the check-out line or filling up at the gas station.

Being frugal doesn't mean you have to be cheap. Quality will out shine nominal every time and last throughout the ages. A superior life will be remembered as fulfilling. Excellence in writing is timeless.

Let me know how you apply frugality to your writing. What's your tightening process, and do how you feel about the end result?

Connie Chastain Interview

1. Why do you write romance?

Basically, because I love men and I write to honor them.  They are absolutely fascinating creatures.  Women and men are similar enough to understand each other's humanity, but we have differences, too.

Here's how I conceptualize it. We've all seen the astrological symbols for male and female (male, Mars, circle and arrow; female, Venus, circle and cross).

Sometimes you see the circles linked, but I think the depictions of them overlapping, perhaps 75% of the circle, illustrate it best. The area where the circles overlap illustrates how men and women are alike (i.e., the human characteristics we share) and those parts of the circle outside the overlap are how we are different (the sex/gender characteristics we don't share).

I don't think we can even understand each other in those areas. But there's plenty enough commonality within the overlap for us to get along; and the differences, frankly, are what attract us to each other.

2. Are you aware of any themes that run through your stories? If so, what are they?

Several. I didn't consciously plan it this way, but a theme, or at least an element, that runs through my stories is the difficulty people sometimes have accepting forgiveness/redemption after they have wronged someone. This element plays a crucial role in Southern Man, which I self-published, and Storm Surge, which is currently under consideration by a small publisher in a west coast state.  It also occurs in a couple of my mainstream non-romance WIPs.

Another recurring theme or element is criticism of feminism, or at least, radical feminism and third-wave feminism.  I like voting and being paid what my work is worth, but I am irrevocably opposed to the man-hating aspects of feminism, and the more recent hook-up culture feminism that I believe is so harmful to women. (This is primarily the reason for the "controversial" and "politically incorrect" references in my author logline.)

A third recurring theme or element is the American South, its people (especially its men!), history and culture.  Although I'm a lifelong Southerner, except for a five-year sojourn in the Midwest, I'm as fascinated with my region, its beauties, mysteries and contradictions, as any outsider.

Another element is the role religion, specifically Christianity, plays in my characters' lives. I don't write Christian romances--I've read a few and found them, um, well, a bit too preachy. (I realize they may not all be like that.) Current pop culture eschews religion, sometimes ridicules it, and worst of all, frequently portrays religious people as bizarre, even monstrous. I personally don't know any religious people like that, and I frankly resent the portrayal that slanders legions of good, decent people. Regardless of the irreverence in pop culture, religion plays an important role in the lives of real people, though they may not realize it. I try to show how faith manifests in my characters' lives without in-your-face scripture-quoting and such, so my stories are written with a Christian worldview.

Finally, one of the most fascinating elements, something I love to explore, is reality versus appearance.  How a character's life/work/family may look to those outside it contrasted with how the character himself experiences it.  As an example, in Southern Man, the protagonist, Troy Stevenson, for all his sexiness and good looks, is perceived by co-workers to be a rather staid, upright religionist married to a straight-laced little Southern Baptist wife, when in fact they have an extremely powerful sexual bond, and a very satisfying, um, innovative sex life.

3. Do you have a specific writing style?

Yeah.  I tell, don't show, and I head-hop.

Just joking!

My stories are written mostly from the POV of a disembodied, impersonal narrator--but not third person omniscient.  I conceptualize the narrator as a video-camera that shows or tells, whichever does the job best. The camera  floats around and focuses on what it thinks is important for the reader to see/know.  It can zoom out to see a whole room, a whole planet, a whole universe, or zero in on the multicolored flecks in the irises of the hero's soulful eyes....

The narrator will share POV with one character per scene, but only one; that's how I avoid head-hopping.  Critiquers sometimes detect POV "slippage" between the narrator and a character, and if it's too blatant, I'll address it, but I usually let it go. (I've generally found readers to be oblivious to POV issues.)

I try to conform to the simplified writing style advocated by Rudolph Flesch in How to Write, Speak and Think More Effectively.  Short paragraphs, short, mostly simple sentences (in subject, verb, object order) varied with occasional compound and complex sentences.  There's more to it than that, and there are other schools of simplified writing, but this discipline has done more to make my writing viable than anything else I've encountered.

Flesch's book is out of print, but used copies are available, and I recommend it to any writer.  Fiction writers only need to read the first few chapters.

3.  What inspired you to write your first book?

Southern Man emerged as a prequel to Sweet, Southern Boys, a non-romance about three teenage boys in Georgia, growing up best friends, whose lives are ruined when they're accused of rape.  That book was a prequel to Little Sister, which was--oh, heck, never mind.  I started writing Little Sister first, but Southern Man was the first one finished and published, so it's really the first.

It was inspired by a comment made by Reade Seligmann, one of the Duke Lacrosse defendants.  I no longer have the quote, and can't find it online, but he said something like, when he saw pictures of himself on national TV and heard news reports about what he was accused of, "I can't tell you what that did to me inside."

I wanted to tell what it does inside to a good, decent man to be falsely accused of that type of crime.  In Southern Man, the accusation was toned down to sexual harassment because it is set in the early 1980s, when a lot of sexual harassment law and policy was being formulated in the United  States. But the story focuses on the experience of the protagonist, Troy Stevenson--what it did to him inside--and the effects it had on his family.



4.  How much of the book is realistic?

I tried to make all of it realistic; the office politics where Troy works, the viciousness of small-town gossip; the pull and tug of progressivism versus traditionalism.  People might think the adoration of Troy's wife for him is a bit unrealistic--he acknowledges that her love for him borders on idolatry--but even she has her limits, and her near worship of him does cause emotional problems for her.

The only other element I'm concerned about is the realism of the children in the story. I don't have kids. I've never been around them much, and the portrayal of Troy's kids really concerned me; but thus far, I've received absolutely no feedback that the kids aren't realistic.

As for the realism of false sexual harassment accusations, as one of my video trailers alludes to, nearly half of the sexual harrassment complaints brought before the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission are dismissed after investigation for "no reasonable cause found."

5. Are experiences based on someone you know, or events in your own life?

No. Except for the Seligmann quote referred to, the story is based only on recent and current cultural trends in the USA.  None of my stories are based on my own experiences, except incidentally.  For example, in Storm Surge, I draw on my experience in property and casualty insurance claims and living through coastal hurricanes, but I made up the specific events of the story.

6.  What are your current projects?

I've just started a paranormal romance with the working title Wrong Turn. It's about a man who doesn't believe in crypto-primates (Bigfoot/Sasquatch) until the woman he's falling in love with is imperiled by them.

The aforementioned Sweet Southern Boys is about three-quarters complete, Little Sister is about a third complete.  The Candidate, a follow-up to Southern Man, is in the planning stages.  None of these are romances but they include romantic elements.

7.  What books have most influenced your life most?

As far as my writing life goes, the earliest books to inspire me were the Nero Wolfe mysteries by the inimitable Rex Stout.  To this day, Archie Goodwin is the only first-person narrator I can abide.  I read The Doorbell Rang when I was about thirteen and at some point after finishing several more of the series, I was thinking in narrative and dialog.

Others include Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind, Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, and the Louisiana novels of Frances Parkinson Keyes,

Robin Lee Graham's Dove. Favorite classics include Lewis Carroll's Alice In Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass; Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle In Time.

I could go on, but those are representative.

8. Please tell us about your most recent release and where we can purchase it.

Southern Man is about a devoted family man who is targeted with a false sexual harassment complaint by an amoral young woman and her uber-feminist mentor.

Here's a blurb:

=========

In 1983, in moss-hung Verona, Georgia, the tender and tenacious love between a hardworking man and his adoring wife is tested by sudden adversity.

Corporate executive Troy Stevenson must confront his nascent alcohol abuse or he risks losing the wife, daughter and son he deeply loves. When his latent destructiveness impacts his family, he moves to their weekend cottage to come to grips with his personal weaknesses.

But busybodies at his company assume he left home because his marriage is in trouble. Encouraged by the assumption, co-worker Brooke Emerson, a 1980s material girl romantically obsessed with Troy, attempts to seduce him, setting in motion a chain of events with harrowing consequences for him and his family.

=========

I created a publishing company, Brasstown Books, to bring it to print.  (I enjoyed publishing the book so much, I'd eventually like to do go into that as a sideline and publish other writers' books and stories, both in print and e-book format.)

Here are links to more information about Southern Man on my website:

Summary:

http://conniechastain.com/sm_summary.html

Excerpt:

http://conniechastain.com/sm_excerpt.html

Videos (yeah, plural; four of 'em, ha!)

http://conniechastain.com/sm_videos.html

Reviews:

http://conniechastain.com/reviews.html

Southern Man is available on Amazon.com in print and Kindle versions, and on Smashwords.

Print:

http://www.amazon.com/Southern-Man-Connie-Chastain/dp/061529801X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1245882533&sr=1-1

Kindle:

http://www.amazon.com/Southern-Man-ebook/dp/B002Z7G1F4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=digital-text&qid=1259715283&sr=1-2

Smashwords:

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/13733

9. Please give us your urls and your publisher’s url.

My website:

http://conniechastain.com

My blog (not entirely devoted to writing):

http://conniechastain.blogspot.com

My publishing site:

http://brasstownbooks.com

10.  Did you learn anything from writing your book and what was it?

Yes. I learned to tell, not show, and to head-hop!  LOL!

Again, I'm kidding.

What I learned is to not let the "rules" put your creativity in a straight jacket.  There were so many false starts with Southern Man, as I sought to conform to the rules ("Open with a hook," "Get straight to the action," "No infodumps!" "Sprinkle the backstory," "Show, don't tell," "No prologues,") that I sometimes despaired of completing the book. At the very least, I feared it would rob the story of my voice, and in that case, I might as well not finish it.

I learned so much about how to craft a story, and it is valuable knowledge, but what I would share with other writers is, listen to yourself. When all is said and done, agent newsletters, editor blogs, crit groups do not write your story. You do.  And only you, so guard your voice.

It was great having you Connie on NN.

Tabitha

Sound Off...I Can't Hear You!

This is the day you get to sound off. Tell us what happened to you last week, we want the good, the bad and the ugly. Tell us what made you mad, sad, happy, we want to hear it all.  This is where we get to come together and support one another. Anything goes, let it all out.

Happy Reading and Writing.

When night falls passions blaze.

Tabitha Blake

The Wacky Misadventures of Four Romance Writers Run Amuck

WARNING: This post breaks most of the writing rules. Every rule broken was done on purpose.

Chapter Three

The four women pushed on past the carnage of the decimated bear. Fur and entrails dripped from the forest around them.

"That’s just gross!" Brenda picked up her dainty booted feet and gathered her silky drac cape closer.

Tabby tried to put on a brave front, while forcing back her rising nausea.

"Let's get a move on, ladies. Ya'll are on my last nerve."

Cindy did a little heebie jeeby dance and dashed past the bear parts strewn about. Strange hissing sounds came from her. Looking like a foil wrapped baked potato, she ran past Penny.

Rolling her eyes, Penny skillfully avoided the worst of the goo.

"Ok, does anyone have a map?" Penny asked.

The forest around lit, with the four separate cell phones accessing the web for links on  how to get through the forest of writers block.

"Lions and tigers and  ... Oh, no more bear," Brenda laughed.

Penny and Tabby smiled, thinking the worst must be behind them.

"I got a bad feeling," Cindy said.

"Nonsense, the map on my phone said all we have to do is press on." Penny told them all.

Tabby wrinkled her dark brows. "Mine said, close my eyes and take a nap."

"The map I found said, go read my favorite book again," chimed in Brenda.

"Yeah, well, I think they're all full of crap. My map said you have to do a little dance." Cindy sneered.

Penny walked ahead of the group, eyeing the quiet forest looming around them. "Cindy is right. Something is not quite right…"

A small sweet voice called out from the distance.

"Grammy." Its haunting sweetness called to Penny. Her body swayed toward the sound.

"Ri?" The voice beckoned, luring Penny into the darkness of the forest.

"Help me, Penny. Help me." The voices changed, echoed eerily. "Edit this, crit that."

The forest morphed into huge dancing punctuation marks. They swirled around her, forming a spinning hypnotic image. Lilting music filled the air. A long squiggly line like those under a misspelled word coiled and danced like a cobra to a flute. The words, it must be perfect, formed in the leaves of the trees, and held Penny spellbound. She began to chant.

"Backspace…backspace… backspace."

"No, Penny. Don't. It’s a trap!" yelled Tabby. She moved forward to stop Penny from the siren's song calling her.

Tabby almost made it to Penny, when her ankle was grabbed by a shiny blue wire.

Wild shrieks ripped from a Tabby's throat. The forest around her was suddenly alive with wires in a myriad of colors, all weaving, and twining around Tabby. She tried in vain to free herself from the electronic ambush. It tugged and pulled at her, hanging her like an ornament in the branches.

Brenda screamed. She wanted to help her friends from the traps that held them. Looking down at the forest floor beneath her, rich dark soil sank into a pit under her feet. The smell of sweet flowers and ripening fruit invaded her senses. From the dirt below, she heard the faint crow of a renegade rooster. It was too late. The soil crept and crawled up her legs, sucking her down into its depths.

Cindy stood like one of the trees around her, frozen in place by terror. How could she help the others? She leaned one way then the other. Unable to fully commit to helping any one individual, she helped none. Just then she was knocked to the ground by a pair of kids' sneakers. One after the other she was pelted by shoes and laundry. Grocery bags wound around her wrists and ankles, and one gagged her. The only sound from her was the muffle grunts when she was stomped on by the endless pairs of kid's shoes.

It looked like it was over for the four. Each one tangled and pulled under by their own personal demons. When it seemed darkest, and our girls were beyond help, four pulses of light glowed. From the light nearest Penny stepped four people. Two looked like they belonged in an ad for corporate life. Mick held his hand out to help Jo step into the spongy forest floor.

"This isn't exactly the best place for these heels. They're Italian."

Mick, ever the gentleman, picked her up in his muscled arms. Behind them came another couple. The woman's arms, laden with delicious smelling baked goods. Raef ran his hands through his hair.

"Not again… Penny... Penny… "

Grace moved toward Penny. "She is in some sort of trance."

Mick, carrying Jo, walked in front of Penny's unseeing eyes.

"Penny? Honey?" Jo reached out to put a gentle hand to her shoulder.

All four turned toward the abyss of the forest were the haunting voices and hypnotic punctuation held fast to their Penny.

"Grace, toss me a fresh loaf of bread," Raef said.

He caught the warm loaf and waved the fragrant bread beneath Penny's nose.

Then together both couples yelled, "PENNY!"

Waking from her dream, Penny shook herself. For the first time, she looked into the faces of the four.

"You had us worried there," Mick told her, readjusting Jo in his arms. He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear.

"Do you think you could write a pair of gym shoes into Jo's bag?"

Penny smiled, and seemed to relax in the safety of her characters.

"Sure Mick. I just did."

Jo looked into her large purse and pulled a nice pair of jogging shoes from the depths. Grace dumped the rest of the baked goods into Raef's arms and went to help Jo.

"I love those pumps. Where did you get them?"

"Macys, twenty percent off. They are comfortable and they make your calves look great."

"You know, I am moving to a small town. Do you think we can go shopping before I move?"

"We have to bring Penny. She is the one who picked out this skirt. It was one of the things that caught Mick's eye," she laughed.

From the second pulse of light nearest Tabby emerged Zan. His tanned skin glowed as if he stepped from a Giorgio Armani commercial. The wind ruffled the half-open silk shirt tucked into his well-tailored trousers. At the site of Tabby, trussed up like a Christmas turkey, he smiled revealing his pearly white fangs. Caprice came up behind him. Her small golden sequined, shift dress glided over the curves of her slinky body. She scrunched her perfect face when she saw the state Tabby was in.

"Move it, angel boy. Can't you tuck those things in to get through the door?"

"Woman, don’t give me your lip."

Lyric and Craigen stumbled from the light.

"Dearest Lord," Craigen exclaimed, rushing to Tabby's side. His mouth fell open as he circled. Tabby hung in the trees by her arms and legs. She was wound tightly with wires and cords from electronics of all kinds.

"Ge ma oot off here," Tabby mumbled. Her eyes flashed angrily, the blackberry stuffed in her mouth making her words difficult to understand. Craigen pulled a small glowing dagger from his belt he wiped the blade across his denim clad leg.

"How the hell did you get yourself into this mess?" Lyric asked. Her arms crossed over her dark business suit.

She threw Craigen a surprised look. "Well, what are you waiting for? Cut her loose. You too, Choppers."

Zan's deep chuckle brought a blush to Caprices face.

"You going to help? He asked her. His smoldering gaze undressing her in his mind.

Caprice looked away from him. Her face burnt with thoughts of Zan. "Let the FBI chick do it. I just had my nails done." For effect, she blew on her perfectly manicured fingers.

Zan leaned close to her sniffing the air around her.

"Those better be dry by the time were though here, or you're going to smudge them on my back."

"Cut the crap, Sauvé, and help me get our Tabby out of this," Craigen said.

Lyric pulled a well-concealed switchblade from inside of her blouse. She cut the wires imprisoning Tabby. Craigen's brows came together in concentration. Each slice of his dagger, gently done with care for Tabby's safety. Zan sauntered up to Tabby. His gaze locked with hers. He moved with deliberate sensuality. Dipping his head toward Tabby's neck, his warm tongue pulled a wire from her skin and his fangs sliced it cleanly. He growled and went after another.

"Good Lord vampire, you're not being graded on this." Lyric smirked.

Caprice stamped her Prada flats and warned Zan with a look that could have lit the sun.

Zan laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I can't help it. I'm that good."

Tabby finally breathed a sigh of relief as the three of them freed her from the last of the wires. Craigen pulled her into his comforting arms, and kissed the top of her head.

"All safe, precious."

Brenda's head was just slipping beneath the shifting dirt. Her hands clawed wildly at the ground. Mel threw himself to the ground followed closely by Breeana. The two of them desperately tried to dig her from her impending grave. Mel shoved his hands deep into the earth and pulled with all his might. Brenda's head pulled free of the ground. She sucked in a huge breath, choking and spitting dirt from her mouth.

"What the hell is this?" Breeana pulled a potato from beneath the ground.

A rag tag group of vampires dropped down beside Mel and joined in the fight against the dirt that was still trying to pull Brenda away.

Kal watched from the sidelines. A plate of nachos balanced in one hand. The other hand dipped a chip into the cheese and popped it into his mouth.

"Kal! … A hand here? Mel complained.

Kal passed the plate of nachos to Ace and pulled a small garden shovel from his back pocket. He joined the crew of vigorously digging vampires.

"Ace!" yelled Mel.

"What? Save a human or a plate of nachos?"

"Ace," the others warned.

"I'm thinking," he snarled back.

Sin swore and fell back as he pulled a screeching rooster from the dirt.

"What the bloody hell is this?" He directed the comment at Breeana.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"You’re the vet."

"So, I didn’t put the damn rooster there."

Mel tugged harder, readjusting his grip under Brenda arms. Brenda cried, her arms wound around Mel's neck.

The small silver shovel in Kal's hands pitched the dirt away from Brenda's body. The speed of his hands helped uncover her. Mel continued to tug her from the cloying ground. Sin and Black's grasp on Brenda helped Mel pull her from the ground.

Breeana let out a blood-curdling scream as the head of a small miniature horse broke free of the mud and reached out to bite the back of Brenda's jeans.

Brenda and Breeana shrieked in tandem as the horse's teeth tried to pull Brenda back into the ground.

Kal thumped the horse on the face with the garden shovel.

"Stop that. You'll hurt him," Breeana moaned.

"He is trying to eat Brenda," Kal exclaimed. "What do you want me to do, give him a reward?"

"Kiwi, let go," screamed Brenda as her legs flayed to gain purchase on the shifting ground.

At last, the group of vampires pulled Brenda from the dirt and dragged her away from the pit where the horse and chicken still eyed Brenda. An evil laugh echoed from a group of raccoons at the edge of the forests, strawberries, and raspberries clutched in their paws.

"That is just freakin weird," Kal said to Mel

Ace threw the empty plate toward the raccoons, scattering them.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, he crouched down where Mel still held Brenda in his muscled arms. His large hand picking chunks of mud from her hair.

Brenda wiped her mouth on her dirty arm and immediately spit the dirt from her mouth.

"Ack.".

Ace looked into Brenda's dirt smudged face.

"You’re a mess, human."

"Thanks for the help, jerk," Brenda grumbled. "Just wait," she warned, pulling debris from her scraggly tangled hair and smoothing the bedraggled cape over her legs.

The last of the lights flared as an endless horde of people spilled forth. Miles, barefoot, skipped to where Cindy was drowning beneath shoes, laundry, and backpacks. The trees around them jingled with the sound of car keys. Each key lit with an address... an eerie sick green light cycled on and off in the branches, spelling out the words taxi. Andros pulled a pulse rifle from his belt and one by one picked off the car keys from the branches. They dropped harmlessly to the forest floor.

Miles leaned over Cindy, flashing her a bright smile and a wink.

"Got yourself in a bit of a pickle, eh?"

Georgia shook her head and began to pull the shoes off the heaping pile.

Tally took a laser scalpel and carefully started to cut away the plastic grocery bags from Cindy's wrists. The pungent odor of burning plastic tainted the air.

Miles pulled out a tennis racquet and began to toss shoes in the air and swat them away…yelling, "Fore," as he did.

"I've got a hell of a serve," he boasted. Georgia laughed up at him and gave him the next shoe to smack.

Rory set up a perimeter around the whole group, signaling to a group of commandos to lay low and keep their eyes open.

Jonas stood behind Andros and scored his shots.

"4.5, 3.7," he laughed

"Close your face, boy scout."

"Like you know what a boy scout is," Jonas smirked.

"I am capable of reading your human script. Now let's get that fool out of the way and see if we can't uncover Cindy."

Andros and Jonas joined Miles in pulling the hundreds of shoes off her. Once free, Andros held out a hand and pulled Cindy to her feet. Dusting herself off, she surveyed the group around them. Each of her fellow writers was pulled free of their troubles by the very characters each created. The voices of the characters refused to be ignored. The humans, vampires, and aliens gathered around their writer and jealously guarded them. Now flesh and blood, none of them would go unheard. Whatever lies ahead in the dangerous forest of writers block, they would all go as a group. There was safety in numbers, and the characters were not about to let the forest swallow them up. Even if it meant holding the hand of their writers, this dedicated and boisterous group would not be put back on a shelf.

"Let's head out. I'll take point," said Rory. An enormous gun, skillfully handled. She aimed into the dark recess of the forest.

"We're all in this together, and need each other," Tally put in. Her gentle look passed over the whole, strange lot of writers and characters.

"Me wanker is yodeling. I've got to drain the hose," Miles remarked.

Andros, shaking his head, walked past him. "Idiot."

By Cindy Pahl

Emma Paul Interview

Why do you write romance?

I didn’t really start with romance as a preference.  In fact I was more of a straight fantasy writer, my first works had no romance at all.  It wasn’t until my late teens and early twenties that I got into romance novels.  I was one of those people who got embarrassed by the cover art, the kind with Fabio embracing a very enraptured damsel in distress…yeah…once I finally got over the initial “its not for me it’s for my mother” phase, I found that I loved reading Romance, and started to experiment by combining my fantasy stories with elements of Romance.  And voila… a bond was created.



What romance subgenres do you write in? Why?

I have written contemporary shorts. However, my favorites are science fiction, fantasy and paranormal.  When I started writing, it was more for my one sanity than anything else.  All my stories have a piece of experience from my past in them, the genre is often my own need to escape from or at least to some degree change the out-come of a painful memory.  My imagination is my freedom and my escape. I love creating new worlds and alternate realities.  I think that if I didn’t write I would probably be schizophrenic.

What inspires your stories?

I really believe the question should be “What doesn’t inspire me to write.”  Every day life.  My own battles, my growth as a person, as a woman.  I find inspiration in everything I do, I read and the people I meet along the way.  Life is a journey.

What is your writing schedule?

Late evening until early hours.  I’m usually wired.

What is your favorite guilty pleasure?

I started reading Erotica about five years ago and have added quite a bit of eroticism to most of my works.  Sex sells. But I write it because…well…who doesn’t love hot, heart pounding sex? I also have a passion for painting and roller coasters…

Do you have any other passions besides writing? If yes, what are they? Why?

Other Passions besides writing?…?  I suppose art history, and UFOology…love me some CSI and crime dramas too. I’m a really criminal justice fanatic. It’s actually what I majored in College.

Are you aware of any themes that run through your stories? If so, what are they?

Well besides the hot romance and sexy alpha heros…I would say my characters tend to be sassy, with much quirky personalities.  The heroine especially.  I like to created a heroine with “real women” physical traits. On occasion I will have a supermodel type, but she always has some weird personality trait that makes her relatable to the reader.  My hero is usually hot, hot, hot…hot…did I mention hot…oh yeah I give them the brains with all that brawn.



What is your favorite comfort food?

Chocolate covered raisons and pizza…

What relaxes you?

Snuggling with my baby, family time and of course reading.

What is your favorite fairy tale? Why?

The ugly duckling, because you can never judge a book by it’s cover.  Inner beauty never fades.

What do you enjoy doing, when not writing?

Watching cartoons, reading Comic books and playing my daughters DSI.

What would you like readers to take away from your stories?

I would love for readers to remember my stories, and read them over and over again.  I try to write vividly and with emotion, so my readers will be able to live the story through the characters and worlds I create.

It was great having you on NN Emma.

Tabitha

Sound Off...I Can't Hear You!

This is the day you get to sound off. Tell us what happened to you last week, we want the good, the bad and the ugly. Tell us what made you mad, sad, happy, we want to hear it all.  This is where we get to come together and support one another. Anything goes, let it all out.

Happy Reading and Writing.

When night falls passions blaze.

Tabitha Blake

The Wacky Misadventures of Four Romance Writers Run Amuck

Chapter 2

WARNING: This post breaks most of the writing rules, lol.

Penny, Cindy, Brenda, and Tabby, gazed past the brick wall into the thick forest beyond. Fir and cedar trees towered over them, lining both sides of a gravel path.  Branches interlocked to form a canopy overhead, allowing only intermittent patches of blue sky to peek through the tightly woven cover. What little light penetrated the needles struggled to reach the forest floor.

The four women glanced to their right, then left. Odd trails, possibly made by animals or other writers who came before them, meandered past the wide tree trunks in all directions, only to be swallowed up by the gloom. A feeling of danger permeated the heavy air.

Penny shouldered her large purple backpack and walked to the beginning of the rocky passageway. She stopped. “Did any of you think to bring a flashlight?”

“No,” Cindy said as she took a step back.

“Figures.” Penny turned to the group. “We need some light.”

Brenda laid a soothing hand on Cindy’s arm. “Hey, if we’d have known we were going to be roaming through the lost freaking woods, we’d have brought a damn flashlight.”

Tabby brushed past Brenda and Cindy. One of her white feathered angel wings skimmed Cindy’s cheek, and her halo made from green Christmas garland, bounced with her quick stride. She stood beside Penny and pointed to a wooden sign. “It says, follow path to unblock writer’s block.”

The group stared at the sign.

“Do we have to go in there? It’s so dark,” Cindy stated.

Penny jerked her thumb toward Cindy’s rhinestone studded belt. “What’s that?”

Cindy unhooked a plastic sword from her belt. “It’s my light saber.”  She pushed a button and the sword let off a blue glow.

As Penny reached for the light saber, she said, “That’ll have to do.”

“It’s mine.” Cindy hid it behind her back.

“Fine. You go first then.” Penny moved to the side, giving Cindy a better view of the sinister woods.

Cindy tossed the sword to Penny.

As they made their way, Cindy whispered to Tabby, “What is this place?”

“I think this is Writer’s Block Woods. I’ve heard of it, but I thought it was only a legend.”

“I’ve heard tons of writers have lost their sanity in here,” Brenda said. “I wonder if their minds are still floating around, waiting for unsuspecting victims.”

Cindy covered her mouth, stifling a scream. The silver glittery balls held up by pink pipe cleaners, swayed above her head.

Brenda held her Dracula cape out to the side and opened her mouth to show off her set of dollar store plastic fangs. They fell out. She quickly picked them up and put them back in. “Maybe the lost minds will try to suck out your brain.”

Cindy’s body, clad in a silver jumper, trembled. “Do you think they could?”

Tabby shoved Brenda. White feathers from her angel wings fluttered to the ground. “Stop scaring her.”

“Will you idiots hurry up,” Penny called. “Unless you want to be left behind.”

The three caught up and they continued on with the journey.

After walking a short distance, the foursome stopped.

Tabby glanced around. She noticed a dark shape slumped against a mossy tree trunk beside the gravel lane. “What’s that?”

They stepped closer.

Cindy screamed and covered her eyes.

The shape was a mummified woman wearing a moldy yellow sweater and dirt encrusted tan slacks. Her skin looked like dried leather, shrunken to her bones. Moss grew around the black eye sockets.  Boney hands lay in her lap with her fingers curled into balls. Sticking out from between her fingers were long strands of blond hair—the same color as the hair on her head. Bald patches showed against the dried scalp.

Brenda glanced at Tabby. “Yikes.”

Tabby gingerly touched the bald spot on the back of her own head, and then ran her fingers through the brunette strands, pulling out a clump. Her wide eyes filled with panic. “Oh shit.”

“What . . . what do you think happened to her?” Cindy asked as she peeked through her fingers.

Penny knelt beside the corpse and rummaged through her backpack. “Pretty obvious. She got lost in Writer’s Block Woods and couldn’t find her way out.” She pulled out a silver hat with red and green flashing lights on the rim and placed it over her dark hair.

Brenda laughed. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s my thinking cap.”

Tabby and Brenda laughed so hard tears streamed down their cheeks.

Penny narrowed her eyes. “Are two fools done?”

They wiped the mascara from under their eyes and nodded.

“We should move on.” Penny hoisted up her pack. “I have a bad—“

A menacing growl filled the eerie woods.

Cindy squeaked and grabbed Tabby’s arm, almost knocking them both to the ground. Cindy peered over Tabby’s shoulders. “What was that?”

The growl sounded again. The hair on all four women stood on end as if a static charge had surged through them.

Penny stepped forward. “I’ve no clue, but we should check it out. But stay quiet.”

Tabby grasped Penny’s arm and jerked her to a stop. “Are you insane?”

Cindy sunk to her knees, mumbling something about kittens and butterflies.

“You want to get over your writer’s block, don’t you?” Penny asked.

“Yeah, but I can’t write if I’m dead!”

Brenda drew her cape around her. “Yeah, maybe we should head back.”

Penny walked ahead. “Just know if you turn back now, you’ll never get over your writer’s block.”

Looking at each other, Tabby and Brenda knew Penny spoke the truth. They reached down and helped Cindy to her feet.

Cindy stumbled away from them.  “Please tell me we’re going back. I don’t want to know what made that sound.”

“Come on,” Tabby murmured. “We have to keep going.”

The four women continued down the trail. They came to a deep bend, stopped for a moment to gather their courage, and then slowly trudged onward. When they rounded the corner, they halted once more.

Stretched across the path was a large deadfall, and sitting on top was the largest bear any of them had ever seen. Blue ribbons of electricity wormed through the bear’s silky brown fur like snakes. The bear turned its enormous head toward the women, electricity snapped and crackled with its movements.

The scent of ozone clung heavy in the air. The taste tingled on the women’s tongues.

Penny cleared her throat. “We’re looking for the way out of this forest. Can you help us?”

The bear lifted a massive paw and inspected its razor sharp claws. “It’s back the way ya came.”

“Begging your pardon, but no it isn’t. We just want to get to the other side.”

The bear growled a deep sound that rumbled the ground beneath their feet. Its red eyes narrowed to deadly slits. “This is my last warning, turn back.”

The women huddled together.

“Now what?” Brenda whispered.

Penny thought for a second. “Maybe your characters can help.”

Tabby smiled and nodded. “Craigen, we need your help.” A dark, sexy angel materialized beside her. He stretched large white wings above his head, flapped them twice, then folded them over his back. His white robes shimmered in the dim light.

“Mel, we could use your strength,” Brenda said. Beside her, a tall vampire appeared. His shaggy black hair reached his broad shoulders. His cunning silver eyes turned serious as he gazed at the bear.

For the first time since they passed the brick wall, Cindy laughed. “Andros, help us please. Oh, and bring the biggest gun you have.” The sexiest alien alive took shape behind her. His orange tinted skin enhanced his dark hair and rich mysterious eyes. In his hands he held a futuristic gun the length of his muscular arms. The barrel was clear, showing the inner workings. The words, Wunderwaffa, DG2 were stamped on the side.

The bear roared with laughter as its red gaze took in Craigen and Mel. “Oh, this is just perfect. You two answer to the God of light, while I answer to the God of darkness. You both have no power here. This forest is made up of my master’s emotions: fear, doubt, and despair.” The bear inhaled. “Ahhh, the air is ripe with it.”

Craigen’s face blanched. He turned to Mel. “He’s right. Our powers won’t work in this evil place.”

Mel’s brows lower. “Shit.” He glanced at the women. “Sorry, ladies, but there’s nothing we can do. This is your battle to either win or lose.”

“Well, then, it’s up to my Andros.” Cindy hugged him around his waist then stepped back. “Blast that bear to smithereens.”

Andros pulled an energy cell from his pocket and screwed it into the top of his gun like a light bulb, then flicked a switch. Blue electricity course through the barrel. He raised the gun and pointed it at the bear. “Say goodnight, Johnboy.”

The bear stood on its hind legs and spread its paws wide. “Go ahead. Shoot me. I’ll absorb the energy and become even stronger.”

Just before Andros pulled the trigger, a dark haired, sexy human man materialized beside Penny. “Stop,” he shouted.

Andros lowered the gun. “Why?”

Raef addressed the group. “Think for a second. The bear seems to be made of electricity so it won’t hurt it.”

Brenda smacked her forehead. “That’s right. Like an electric type pokemon, electricity won’t work.”

Raef frowned. “Ah, yeah, something like that.”

“A water type pokemon would.” Brenda looked around. “But we don’t have one—I mean any water.”

Raef gave Penny a sideways glance and smiled.

Penny smiled back and reached into her pack and pulled out a super soaker.

The smug look on the bear’s face faltered. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” She aimed her water gun and pulled the trigger, shooting out a powerful stream of water.

The liquid hit the bear between the eyes. Its body jerked and did the funky chicken as water and electricity mixed. The men grabbed the women and pulled them to the ground as the bear exploded in a shower of sparks.

When it was over they all stood.

Penny placed her gun back in her pack and zipped it up. “Thanks Raef.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “Call if you need me.” He disappeared.

Andros looked at Cindy and touched one of her glittering balls. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Cindy smoothed her hands over her silver jumper. “It’s my space suit. All people in space wear this.”

“If you ever dress me in something like that, you’ll have writer’s block for eternity.” Andros disappeared.

Mel kissed Brenda’s cheek. “Until we meet again.” He vanished.

Tabby hugged Craigen before he too vanished.

Brenda walked over to Penny. “Hey, Troll. How come you packed a water gun, but not a flashlight?”

Penny laughed. “I’m not sure.” She adjusted her thinking cap. “We should get a move on,”

The women climbed over the large deadfall and continued with their journey.

To be continued . . .

Come back for part three written by Cindy Pahl on Tues. the 21st.

By Brenda Dyer

The Wacky Misadventures of Four Romance Writers Run Amuck

WARNING: This post breaks most of the writing rules. Every rule broken was done on purpose.

Chapter One

Tabby walked into her office determined to get some writing done today. Nothing was going to stop her. Opening the door, her mouth dropped. Sure nothing was going to stop her but that giant brick wall looming before her. Releasing a sigh as tension radiated up her spine.  The computers were on the other side. This was just great. Backing up into the wall she slid to the floor and entangled her fingers in he hair.

“Hey…what the hell is that?” Brenda asked wide-eyed.

Looking up, Tabby, noticed her partners in crime had arrived.

Sarcasm spewed from Tabby’s mouth. “Ahh…looks like a brick wall.”

“What are we going to do?” Brenda questioned as she looked to Tabby.

“I don’t know. My first reaction was to pull out my hair!”

“I don’t think that is going to do anything.”

“Well, too late.” She turned to show the ladies a huge bald spot on the side of her head. The light bounced off her shiny scalp.

Laughter echoed off the walls of the large office.

“Hey fang girl, shut it. This isn’t funny!” Tabby looked down at the clump of hair on the floor.  Tears pooled in her eyes. No, damn it. She was not going to cry!

“Well at least I don’t come to work in angel wings and a halo.” Brenda put her arms out and flapped them like a bird. Her black cape fluttered with her movements.

Tabby pointed a finger at Cindy. “She’s the one wearing the silver jump suit and glittery bouncy balls on her head. She looks like a bad SyFy movie threw up on her.” Three sets of eyes glared at Cindy.

“What? It inspires me. I have to engross myself in the world I write.”

A laugh came from the back of the room. “I’m the only normal one here.” Penny smiled.

All three ladies squinted at Penny. “Shut up!”

“Guess the truth hurts.” Penny shrugged. “How are we going to get over that wall?” She glanced at Tabby.

“Hey, why do I always have to fix everything?” Tabby pushed to her feet and blew out a breath.  “Never mind I will do it.”

Tabby smiled. “Watch and learn. As paranormal and SyFy writers we have other worldly characters with amazing powers. You only have humans in contemporary.” Smug satisfaction tugged at her features. “Craigen can get us through that wall.” A sexy angel appeared. Tabby stared as her breath stuck in her throat. He was gorgeous. Tall dark and handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. “I need you to teleport us through that wall. I’ll go first.”

Craigen nodded his head and wrapped his arms around Tabby. Mmm…he smelled good. She closed her eyes and trusted her strong angel would do as she asked. He could do this she just knew it. Craigen lifted her into the air and they started to levitate towards the wall. Tabby hit the wall with a loud thud and bounced off landing on the floor. She lay sprawled out on the carpet. Her head ached and she looked up to find Craigen gazing down at her.

“Sorry, Tabs, that’s one strong wall. I have never had that happen before.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just go.” It was bad enough everyone was laughing at her.

“My turn! My turn!” Brenda chanted as she jumped up and down. “My vampire can do it. Mel.” A tall sexy dark haired vampire appeared. “I need you to break down that wall.”

Mel smiled. “No problem.” He cracked his knuckles as he stepped up to the wall and proceeded to punch the bricks.

Tabby felt her blood boil. Why did vampires have to be so sexy? It was so easy to fall head over heels in love. She was jerked from her thoughts by Cindy’s cry.

“Oh my God!” Cindy ran to Brenda. A brick had hit her right between the eyes.

“Is she okay?” Penny asked.

Brenda grumbled and sat up. Her hand flew to the large lump forming on her forehead. “What happened?”

Tabby rolled her eyes and glanced up at the ceiling. “Your big bad vampire didn’t break the wall. He only managed to knock you on your ass with a flying brick.” All eyes turned to Mel. He just shrugged his shoulders and disappeared. Tabby reached a hand down to helped Brenda up and tossed her the vampire fangs that had fallen from her mouth.

“Okay, I got this.” Cindy replied.  “My alien and his high tech equipment can take down that wall. Andros.”  A very sexy orange tinted alien appeared. “I need you to demolish that wall.”

Tabby wondered how an orange alien could be so sexy but damn he was hot as hell. She snapped her mouth shut and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Nope they were all starry eyed too. Lost in their own personal fantasies. Penny was the only on that didn’t seem to drool at the sexy Andros.

“No problem.” He withdrew a sliver gun from a holster on his hip and pointed it at the wall. It made a hissing sound as it warmed up. He rolled his shoulders as a cocky grin graced his chiseled features.

“I don’t think this is a good…” Tabby and the others were struck with bolts of electricity that bounced off the wall before she could finish her sentence. She shook the fog from her head and glanced around. “Damn it, Cindy!”

Andros put his metallic gun away. “What the hell is that wall made of?”

“Sorry.” Then Cindy burst into laughter. “Its made of all the stresses that we let get in the way of our writing.”

He raised a brow as his eyes bore into the four women. “You ladies have some serious issues. I’m out of here.”

Tabby then realized their hair was standing on end and smoke was wafting off their heads. Penny’s body spasmed as the electricity dissipated. “Well that’s what you guys get for laughing at my bald spot! Now we all are having a bad hair day.” Tabby burst out laughing as she watched the ladies all get to their feet.

Penny shook her head. “That’s it. Time to call in the human. Evidently none of your guys can get the job done. And I am not letting any more of this insanity continue. I may write with you guys but I’m not dying with you!” She stood and dusted off her clothes. “Raef.” A very handsome dark haired man appeared.  All the women’s mouth’s dropped. A smug smile tugged at the corners of Penny’s mouth. “He’s not too bad for a human, huh?” Everyone just shook their heads. Raef cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry, I need to know the best way to get through that wall.” Penny replied.

“Why do you have to go through it? Can’t you just go around it?” He raised a single dark brow and crossed his arms over his chest.

All the ladies looked at each other. “Hmmm…why didn’t we think of that?” Cindy laughed.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. See, humans use logic, not powers. Lets go!” Penny looked to the right of the looming brick wall to find a long winding road that disappeared into a dark forest.

“You want us to go out there?” Tabby pointed and shook her head. “No way! There might be lions and tigers and bears out there.”

Penny ran her hands trough her crispy hair. “We have an angel, vampire, alien and if need be a human with amazing reasoning skills. We will be fine. Plus it will be a great adventure. We can’t just sit here and hope that wall disappears. We have to be stronger than the wall.”

The ladies all looked at each other.  “I don’t think we have a whole lot of options here. Looks like we go through the forest.” Tabby reached out shaky hands to Brenda and Cindy.

To be continued…

Come back Friday the 17th for part two of our crazy journey written by Brenda Dyer.

Happy Reading and Writing,

Tabitha Blake

Sound Off...I Can't Hear You!

This is the day you get to sound off. Tell us what happened to you last week, we want the good, the bad and the ugly. Tell us what made you mad, sad, happy, we want to hear it all.  This is where we get to come together and support one another. Anything goes, let it all out.

Happy Reading and Writing.

When night falls passions blaze.

Tabitha Blake

U-Tube and Romance

This week I thought I would give you all a little laugh. We get made fun of a lot as romance writers but sometimes we have to laugh right along with them. Hope you enjoy these clips from U-Tube. I know I did. They had me rolling on the floor laughing. Oh and the Bing commercial is just there because I love a sexy vamp.

Tabby

Liza O'Conner Interview

Please welcome Liza O’Conner to Nocturnal Nights.

Are you aware of any themes that run through your stories? If so, what are they?



I’ve noticed several disturbing themes in my work. Ever since the guy I thought my soul mate for life informed me he wanted to see another woman, but asked me to continue sleeping in his bed while he decided which of us he preferred, I began writing novels where my heroine has multiple partners (in one case twelve men). I dumped that boyfriend. So not surprisingly, I also have the habit of dumping the first guy the reader meets for someone else. And then there is the evil mother or mother-in-law character that preys upon my heroines. I’m certain if I ever get mental therapy, my characters will settle down. But where is the fun in that?

What would you like readers to take away from your stories?



I wish to be so disturbing that they still think about my people months after they read me. Many complain they do, so I’m happy.

What inspires your stories?



My bizarre life and my demented dreams are fodder for my odd stories. My brain seems to tell me stories throughout the night like a possessed TV that you can’t turn off.

What is your writing schedule?



I write or re-write every single day, seven days a week from 10 a.m.-7p.m. then walk my dog, return alive (so far) and do crittering (I made that word up) from 8-12 midnight.

Do you have any other passions besides writing?

I have a ton of them: music, acting, art, thrill-seeking sports, gardening, naming fish that keep changing their colors, hiking with my dog.  I try very hard to enjoy every day of my life.

What is your favorite comfort food?



popcorn cooked in olive oil, sprinkled with curry and doused with Smart Balance butter. I delude myself into believing it’s good for me.

What relaxes you?



Raspberry vodka does an amazing job at relaxing me. Hot baths with bath salts will as well, only I just have to make sure I haven’t taken option one first or I will be DOA from DOD (dead on arrival from drinking and drowning).

What was your favorite vacation?



I took a six month  vacation to Australia, New Zealand and Fiji, trying to experience every way to almost-but-not-quite-kill-oneself. Let me assure you there is no group of land masses more willing to almost-and-sometimes-actually-kill-you than that set. I dove with great whites, rafted down a 21 foot waterfall and spent 7 days on a class five river nearly dying every five minutes, swam with a giant pod of overly aggressive dolphins in sub-freezing water, played with seals totally unfamiliar with humans, traveled into the hot center of Australia with a psychotic guide who kept leaving me in deserts, hiked the beautiful New Zealand mountains during a major flood which almost took me out in a mud slide (escaped on a trail three feet under water), went on a helicopter thrill ride and a speed boat ride that should have been illegal due to excessive danger, and learned to hang-glide off beautiful mountains and crashed into sheep during my landing. (My trainer promised they would get out of the way….they didn’t.)

If you had another career, what was it?

I have been a terrible waitress, a drive time radio DJ (even had my own stalker who wanted to kill me when I rejected his declaration of love), the retail manager of a greenhouse (next job I took had air-conditioning), a journalist, a night security guard for a chicken processing plant (I was more frightened than the chickens), a stock broker for Bear Stearns, a strategist for a Fortune 500 company, and a business improvement consultant.

If you didn’t write, what would you do instead?



I would compose music and paint bizarre looking art. Or perhaps I would just go mad with characters waking me up four in the morning telling me their stories.

Are you a cat or dog person? Do you have any pets and if so, please tell us about them.



My dog, Jessie, wants to answer this. She says I am a one-dog person. However, Jessie likes cats. The only problem I have with that is she likes to eat them. I am slowly rehabilitating her from this attitude. Now I realize that authors are predominantly ‘cat people’ and won’t like my flippant attitude over Jessie’s affection towards cats. Rest assured, she has harmed no cats since she became mine.

Please tell us about your most recent release and where we can purchase it.

My latest book was released Aug 8. All my books can be found at www.BloodyGoodRead.com. Three current novels are under the name Liza O’Connor and 6 Victorians are under Caroline Adams. For those who like Sherlock Holmes and humor, I would recommend my Xavier Thorn series. If you prefer current humor, then go for The GhostLover. My new novel has characters from two series of books joining forces. It’s called The Dazzle of Innocence. Here’s its blurb:

Damion Santiago has no interest in acquiring a wife. He came to England in a desperate attempt to save his sisters from being sold into white slavery. Meriden Ford is searching for an interesting, educated, young husband who will recognize her superiority and become her decoy while she runs the family fortune. At their very first dance, they promise not to fall in love. However, their mutual admiration ensures a strong friendship. When bombarded with tribulations that would destroy most people, they survive by pulling strength from each other. Yet even as they realize their true feelings, others work to tear them apart forever.

Are experiences in your book based on someone you know, or events in your own life?


Given at least one of my family members gets pissed after any book I

write, I will have to say yes. According to them (based on the drunken messages they leave me at two in the morning), I only remember the horrible, outrageous things they do. I now wear a t-shirt that says: “Be warned. You may end up in my novel.” If they still choose to do or say stupid things, they’ve been fairly warned.

Thanks you so much for talking with me Liza. It was a joy to have you and I wish you the best of luck on your new release.

Tabitha Blake

To Read For Better Or Worse

I have done my fair share of crits but needed to know exactly what is expected from a beta-reader. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole process. I do have to give credit where credit is due and say it was an easy read. Afterwards I spoke with the author about the questions and concerns I had. She was very responsive and I was able to point out things she hadn’t noticed. We discussed what actions would help get rid of some of the holes and things left unresolved. All and all this was a great experience I would definitely do again. So I thought I would give a little crash course on beta reading. Lets start with what a beta reader is and go from there.

Beta Reader:

Is a person who reads a written work, generally fiction, with what has been described as “a critical eye, with the aim of improving grammar, spelling, characterization, and general story prior to it’s release to the general public.”

Why Do Authors Need A Beta-Reader:

A beta-reader is your editor, proofreader and sounding board for ideas. Yeah you have spell check and grammar checkers but a beta-reader goes beyond that. A good beta-reader can point out if your plot has more holes than Swiss cheese. They can tell you if you are using a fanfic cliché, look at technical details like over use of certain words. They can also be your cheerleading section and provide encouragement when you have writers block. Writers with beta-readers will almost always turn out better stories.

What Should A Beta-Reader Expect From The Author:

1: The author to incorporate some changes. Notice I said some.

2: You should expect a thank you note or a thank you in the intro of the book. But this all depends on how much work you put into the project.

3: You should expect to talk to the author. They may have questions about your comments.

4: You should expect the author to tell you their expectations on what you are about to do. If they don’t tell you, ask. You want to be on the same page.

What Should An Author Expect From A Beta-Reader:

1: Communication is key. If you don’t tell your beta-reader what you want, you may not get it. Communicate; it will save you a lot of exasperation and time in the end.

2: You should expect your beta-reader to take your story seriously.

3: You should expect them to be thorough. They shouldn’t just give it a pass and only make one or two comments. They should try and catch as many errors as possible.

4: You shouldn’t expect your beta-reader to find every single mistake. They may miss something. After all we are only human.

5: You shouldn’t expect your beta-reader to comment on things outside of their expertise. If they don’t have the best grammar skills, don’t expect them to catch these errors. Instead, they could look for plot holes, characterization issues and loose ends.

6: Expect your beta-reader to complete the read in a timely manner. Discuss this and come to terms about what time frame you expect.

7: Do expect your beta-reader to be honest. The honesty will help strengthen your work.

8: Do expect some opinions to creep in. Remember opinions are just that opinions. This is where the author makes a judgment call.

9: Expect things to be said about what your beta-reader liked. They should let you know what they think works in the story. That way you don’t loose the good stuff in the editing process.

So now that you know what a beta reader is, here are some tips for being a good beta reader.

Tips For The Beta-Reader:

1: Be specific. Point out the exact spot where things don’t work, not just vague generalities.

2: Make suggestions (Which are free to be ignored) as to how the problem can be solved.

3: Point out the good bits too. You need to point out you favorite part not just for encouragement but so the author doesn’t end up losing the really great parts in the editing process.

Tips For The Author:

1: Thank your beta reader even if what they said wasn’t helpful. They took time out to read your story and for that they should be thanked.

2: Remember what your beta reader said is only an opinion and isn’t gospel. This is your story and you have the final say. On the other hand listen to your beta reader, because what was the point if you won’t take the time to listen.

3: If a suggestion is made you don’t agree with then explain why. It may be that when you explain your reasoning, or the intent, you may be able to figure out between you something that works for you both.

Never take on the role of beta-reader lightly, it is a big project and requires a lot of time. This isn’t nightly reading. It’s very important to the author, you are the first person to look at their story and give them feed back on their work. You are the person that will help them fix all the holes in the story and show them things the may not have noticed.

Authors remember to listen to your beta-reader; they have put a lot of time and effort into reading and trying to help you. Remember to be open to their thoughts, should you change everything they bring to your attention? No, but a good beta-reader can make a great story even better. Talk to them and bounce ideas off them. After all two minds are always better than one.

I recently had a criter advise me to change the POV of one of my chapters and at first I was skeptical. But it took my chapter to new levels, it reads better and is so much more interesting now.

I hope this helped to explain the process of beta reading and the roles the beta-reader and author play in the process.

I also wanted to share I have a new crit group I just opened and we have a beta read section. Something a lot of crit groups don’t have. I am currently looking for new members. You can join by clicking on the Yahoo button to the right. Hope to see you there.

Happy Reading And Writing,

Tabitha Blake

Zee Monodee Interview

Please Welcome Zee Monodee To NN. It is great to have you with us today Zee.
Tabby

Hello everyone! Firstly, I’d like to say thanks to Tabitha for having me here today. I love the interviews on Nocturnal Nights and to be featured here is an honor and pleasure indeed!

Why do you write romance?
The real question to me should be, why not write romance? This is a genre with tremendous scope, as sub-genres of romance veer between different and distinct worlds, like contemporary to paranormal and everything in between and out. What’s the limit in the romance genre?
Romance has this feel-good factor – it uplifts, brings a smile to your face, contentment to your heart, hope that the world just might be a better place after all.
This is what I wanted to bring to the world – in my preferred niche of writing, namely Mauritian culture-based fiction, there was too much focus on the drabness of reality, the tedium and the misery. Very literary-type, and all I kept thinking was, life is full of hope so why doesn’t anyone pause to showcase that? Romance sounded like the perfect medium, since I wanted my stories to show what the life of a woman of such culture is like today, how she lives in a drab reality yes, but how she also wants and finds love along her journey to fulfillment.

Are you aware of any themes that run through your stories? If so, what are they?
I write with a strong focus on my heroine. My stories are as much women’s fiction as they’re romances. These women I write about are always on a fence, a wall, a ledge. One misstep and they’d fall. I enjoy writing about how my heroines find their equilibrium on this tiny space high up in the air. In a way, this theme reflects a lot of my own struggle to find my balance. I come from a traditionalist culture and religion, yet I grew up in a world where barriers that contained cultures and lifestyles were tumbling down rapidly. It wasn’t easy to find my place on my own wall, and I know countless other women out there feel the same too. Every woman, just like every heroine, has her own world and conflicts – she looks for a way to find her fulfillment.
I also write about the strong men my heroines will fall in love with. They’re strong, principled, honorable men. Sometimes they’re dangerous, sometimes they’re bad boys hiding big hearts. Yet they’re also ‘real’ men, the kind we could all meet in everyday life. I try to strike a good balance between the dreamy scopes of fiction and the anchor of reality.

What would you like readers to take away from your stories?
Hope. Contentment. A smile. A feel-good buzz and glow that takes them through their day as if on a cloud. I want to show them my world of culture and traditions, take them on a trip to my beautiful island, Mauritius, make them discover a new facet of how people live and exist out there, take them behind-the-scenes of a character’s life.
If anything else, I want them to read my stories and just have a good time in the hectic world of today.

What inspires your stories?
People. There is no better inspiration. Every person has a story to tell – it’s the writer’s job to relate that story to readers. People in culture seem even more facetted, because they are ‘different’, and conveying and explaining this difference is a very good way to find ideas for stories. You can take anyone – be it someone you know personally, someone you bump into while grocery shopping, someone who catches your eye on a crowded bus – and spin a game of ‘what if’ from a small aspect of this person. From this, other elements add to the picture like strokes of color, and with words as your brush, you paint a picture that translates as a story.

Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?
Clearly, actually. Strange as it may sound, my interest in spinning stories came when I received my first Barbie for my 8th birthday. I was like, what’s your story, Barbie? Playing with my friends back in the day, we’d have these make-believe doll parties and everyone had such conventional stories for their dolls. I kept going, no way dolls have such a boring, mundane life – for example, how did Barbie and Ken meet? An aunt brought the proposal for Barbie on behalf of Ken’s family (back then, that’s really how we thought love happened!). I was always the one going, what if the proposal came for Barbie’s sister but Ken saw Barbie and fell head over heels in love and they elope and have a secret marriage? (Very Indian Bollywood movie type, yeah. I was after all, 8!)
Then I started to watch soaps with my mother (Dynasty!) and here was this whole fictional world where Barbie and Ken could evolve.
I was actually creating fan fiction before I even knew the word, and then my dad got me a library card and I discovered Barbara Cartland. It was a revelation, as in, people actually write stories like the ones I think of. From then on, I penned story-telling essays on a weekly basis in my school assignments. The romance bug had bitten, and I’m happy to say I never found a cure for it!

What is your writing schedule?
This clearly depends on when in the year we are talking about – school days and vacation time. School runs January to October in Mauritius, with breaks in April, July and November-December. I have a 7-year-old son and an 11-year-old stepson. When they’re home, you can barely hear yourself think let alone string two words together on a WIP!
So I try to streamline my writing during school days. I will usually have 2-3 days of the week screened out for writing, when I will write between 10 am to 2 pm. I always work from an outline, so I know what my chapters are supposed to feature and when to start/stop. On a good roll, I can get a chapter down every 2 days. I try not to work in the afternoon, when the kids are home and need to have homework checked or just want to hang out, and when I usually have to cook (my worst nightmare!). The evenings I try to reserve for my husband, as we barely get to see each other during the day over the children’s antics when he gets home from work. If I’m in revision mode on a completed draft, I might clock in an hour of editing on the completed draft on some evenings. Weekends are sacred family time!
The rest of the days I dedicate to my studies (completing a BA Communications Science degree), my crit partners’ works, and my editing job. Blogging and networking I tackle every day.
Now if I’m on a deadline, I might shove some stuff aside (yes, the poor hubby too, sadly) to complete the writing. Nothing is really written in stone, as life happens. But the discipline needs to be there, otherwise there’s no way you’d get anything done even if you’re serious about your writing.

What is your favorite guilty pleasure?
Chocolate cake. Any type, but preferably black forest cake with lots of cream! It’s my reward for a job well done, for completing a project, and it’s my booster when things seem down and drab or when the kids are intent on driving me insane.

If you didn’t write, what would you do instead?
Well, I’m pursuing a degree in communications science. My specialization in economic and management sciences basically means I’m eligible to work as a corporate communications person or in fields such as public relations and marketing. It always seemed odd to me (yeah, I know what I’m about to say!) that for someone who is pretty much shy and self-effacing among people, I chose such a people-oriented degree. Recently for one of my final study modules, I had to place myself in the shoes of a PR consultant and work with an organization to create an integrated communications & PR campaign for them from scratch. To my surprise, I loved doing it. It was as if I were a different person in those shoes, a sort of Jekyll-and-Mrs-Hyde moment!
So if I didn’t write, I guess I’d be working in PR and communications. I did do a stint in the corporate world a few years back, but the back-stabbing, biatch-ness, one-upmanship and I didn’t really agree. I’m really glad I’m getting to pursue my dream of writing.

What books have most influenced your life?
Barbara Cartland’s books and Mills and Boon romances, because through them I discovered that one could put stories of feel-good romance out there and people would enjoy them.
Danielle Steele’s and Barbara Taylor Bradford’s early women’s fictions, because romance could be so much more when it showed the journey of strong and indomitable, spirited heroines.
Jane Austen’s whole collection of works, because she showed society and life and people with all their quirks, foibles, and simple and oftentimes funny reality in such a light and unpretentious way.
A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth, because he wrote an epic story about normal people in a time of trouble and tension, amid a plot that showcased the societal and political upheaval and turmoil of a whole nation, and for how he still, amidst all the detail, managed to create memorable characters who live with you long, long after you close the book. It was the book that opened my eyes as to how I could attempt to bring together characters, culture, and country together under the spotlight of romance.

If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
I cannot say I really have one writer as mentor for how I write. I prefer to think storytellers have influenced and showed me the way. I say storytellers because there aren’t just novelists in there for me. A novelist, a cinematographer, a script writer – all tell the audience a story, albeit via a different medium.
Indo-Briton director Gurinder Chadha ranks high on my list of influences. This is the woman who brought culture to the broad audience with a pop culture twist and did it brilliantly through a YA story - Bend it like Beckham. Any young girl knows what Jes, the heroine, is going through. Yet Jes is Indian. Indian culture is portrayed in much of its complexity in this movie, yet it is also done in a way that a non-Indian will completely understand the premise and storyline. Another one where Ms. Chadha manages this stroke of Indian-to-mainstream flow is the movie Bride and Prejudice.
Mira Nair is another director who finds the right balance between culture and mainstream, yet still infuses Indian-ness with all its deep and churning issues in a way that any audience can pick up the story and nod in understanding. Case in point – Monsoon Wedding.
In the world of writing, I saw such strokes of culture v/s mainstream balance in works by author Shobhan Bantwal. Her stories deal with profoundly Indian issues, some very disturbing like the plight of the girl-child in India (plight that happens in other traditionalist cultures too however), in the book The Forbidden Daughter. Yet, Ms. Bantwal conveys her shocking and distressing themes in a tapestry where they are woven in with hope and human resilience.
On a lighter note, Woody Allen always makes me laugh with his light-yet-deep stories featuring a cast of unbelievable-yet-unforgettable characters.
All of these people have shown me a path that I can blaze with my writing, and I only hope I can do their message and ideology justice.

Once again, thanks bunches to Tabitha for letting me ‘talk’ with her readers today. I know, lol, it’s one sided so far but drop me a line or a comment and I will definitely engage in the discussion with you.

Zee Monodee Bio
Author of stories about love, life, relationships... in a place of culture
Zee is an author who grew up on a fence - on one side there was modernity and the global world, on the other there was culture and traditions. Putting up with the culture for half of her life, one day she decided she'd stand tall on her wall and dip toes every now and then into both sides of her non-conventional upbringing.
From this resolution spanned a world of adaptation and learning to live on said wall. The realization also came that many other young women of the world were on their own fence.
This particular position became her favorite when she decided to pursue her lifelong dream of writing - her heroines all sit 'on a fence', whether cultural or societal, in today's world or in times past.
Hailing from the multicultural island of Mauritius, Zee has been writing for close to a decade and has had 3 novels published so far. After a stint in the publishing industry, on the 'other side of the fence' as an editor, her goal today is to pen wholesome, fulfilling stories and help fellow authors, whether as critique partner or as freelance editor.


Find her on the web:

Blog http://zeemonodee.blogspot.com/

Email: zeemonodee@hotmail.com

Facebook & Goodreads: Zee Monodee

Follow her on Twitter @ZeeMonodee

It was great talking with you Zee. Its nice to pick another writer's brain and see how we are wired. LOL! We are all so different in our thoughts and how we write.
Tabitha Blake