Our eyes, the windows to our world that we destroy a little each day.

As I got older, my eyes got weaker. Something I blamed on age. It never crossed my mind that it was my lifestyle. Boy was I wrong.

I went to the doctor, and had an eye opening experience. No pun intended.

I work during the day as an ultrasound tech, which means I am in front of a computer, with the lights dimmed for eight hours.

Then at night I’m in front of the computer working on my next story. Doesn’t sound too bad, right? Well, I found out how wrong my lifestyle was for my eyes. I was told that my eyes had weakened over the last six months, mainly due to overuse, and strain. Now I understand strain, but how do you overuse your eyes? I can’t take them out, or elevate them with an ice bag. I know, bad medical humar but I couldn’t help it. After some research, and a long lecture from my optamologist, I found out that my eyes will continue to get worse unless I make some changes.

I love my job, and I love to write, as do so many of you. So I’m going to give you a list of things that will harm your site, and a few things we can do to keep our eye’s healthy so we can continue to enjoy our writing, reading or whatever we love to do.

#1

Focused staring is the number one reason for the loss of vision. What does that mean? When you stare at something your eyes blink about 3 times slower than normal. So when you’re watching TV, a movie at a theater, your computer screen, or reading a book, your eyes become dry and this creates damage to your eyes over time.

There are things you can do to reduce the problem, other than avoiding these activities all together. Which none of us want to do. When watching TV, take breaks during the commercials. That doesn't mean to stare at your computer screen during commercial breaks.  Get up, look away, anything that takes your focus away from the screen. Watching a movie at a theater is different.  Try to glance around the theater every once in a while. Maybe force yourself to take that annoying bathroom break during a slow part of the movie. You may have to get creative here, but find something to do that doesn't require you to stare at a fixed object. You can apply these principles to your computer time, reading time, etc. A random fact, there is no evidence to suggest that reading in a darker area causes any more damage than reading in a well-lit room.

#2

The sun's rays, or ultra-violet rays, are the number two reason for eye problems. The ultraviolet rays that come from the sun and tanning machines do massive damage to our eyes. Sunglasses with UV protection are an absolute requirement for everyone, in my opinion. The sun's UV rays bounce off of many surfaces. They also pierce many surfaces. Just because you are turned away from the sun or are driving in your car doesn't mean that you are protected from those damaging rays. In fact, it is usually the most common situation where the sun damage takes place. So buy some sunglasses that have UV ray protection. This will keep your eyes healthy, and you looking younger longer. A little FYI, when you squint, you deepen the crows feet around your eyes making you look older.

#3

As if there were not enough reasons to quit smoking tobacco. Smoking is the number three cause of loss of clear vision. Smoking cigarettes causes macular degeneration, which is a problem where the part of our eye that sends the signals that it receives to the brain degenerates. Over time less signals get sent  and our eyesight becomes poor. There is little else to say here except quit smoking, we all know how horrible it is for us.

#4

Injury to the eye is the fourth reason for loss of vision. This can be work related from chemicals or debris in the air, to pollutants or sports injuries. The best way to prevent an injury is to wear protection while working, playing or doing anything that could possibly put your eyes in any danger and if you do damage your eye get medical attention as quickly as possible. Especially around the Fourth of July. Fireworks have sent so many people to the ER and left many with permanent eye damage.  

This is a short list of the top things that can cause damage, but our lifestyles can to. We are so in tune to our social media that we find ourselves in front of a screen all day.

Here are some useful points to remember.

Don’t stare at one object for too long

Blink often

Keep your eyes moist-use drops if needed, and stay hydrated. Drink plenty of water.

Look away from your screen, book page or anything that you have to focus on.

Wear sunglasses

Feed your eyes. They need proper nutrition and vitamins to stay bright.

Get enough rest. Sleep is the only way we give our eyes a break.

Reduce stress. I know, easier said than done. But stress raises your blood pressure, which increases pressure in the vessels in your eyes, causing a decrease in blood supply. A big factor in site loss.

And most important, see your eye doctor once a year. If you do have any changes in your sight, catch it early.

The eyes are the windows to your soul and you don’t want anyone pulling the shades down before you're ready.

So protect your site so you can finish reading all those books on your to-be-read list, and write all those books you want to write.

Blend Well, Strain, and Serve

Hmm...sounds like a cocktail recipe.
Don't worry, we'll get around to that.
It often amazes me how things come together in the writing world. I don't know why I'm so surprised when these things happen. After all, as writers, we're creative sorts, and most of us love a challenge of one form or another. Even so, I continue to be impressed by how quickly and easily a vague, seemingly random comment can mutate into an unstoppable juggernaut.
A case in point is the Lesbians Vs. Zombies line from Noble Romance Publishing, which kicked off Monday with the release of KevaD's "The Zombie With Flowers In Her Hair." My own tale for this line, "Dead Means Dead," debuts on February 13th. Hey, Valentine's Day and zombies . . . what could be more natural? I'll get back to that in a minute. (And yes, the recipe's coming. Just hold your horses!)

The whole thing started with Amber Green, one of the editors at Noble Romance and a member of Erotic Romance Authors, my crit group, making a remark in the group's private chat room: "I wonder if we could do something that combines lesbians, zombies, college, and music."
My initial reaction to this looked something like O_O. You would think, having been around her for some three months at that point, I would have learned to expect anything and everything from Amber. The concept really puzzled me, because I've never been a big fan of zombies. They're not exactly what you'd call versatile creatures, even less so than vampires. They eat people. Whether they're the delicate connoisseur type who's only interested in braaaaains (Yup. Intentional.) or the less particular variety (leg, thigh, breast, it's all the same to me), whether they run, walk, or crawl, that's what they do. Period. The end. Munch munch, crunch crunch, hey, you're a zombie. Have a nice day. Try the rump roast, it's delicious.
Thankfully, lesbians are much more, ahem, flexible.
One of the more amusing highlights of this conversation was when Amber asked me, point blank and in all seriousness, if I could write lesbians. This prompted a blink, and then a snicker, because I already had a vampire/ghost lesbian story to my credit: "Espiritu Sancti," from the Red Roses and Shattered Glass anthology. I laughed and said, "Oh, I think I'll muddle through."

So, a zombie's a zombie's a zombie. (Except that they're not. At all. Remind me to send a thank-you note to KevaD for showing the rest of us mere mortals up >.<) That left lesbians. I sat down, lit a cigarette, and got to work.
Only to run face-first into a migraine-inspiring stall.
I had the setting and the zombies. I even had a vague idea of what my heroines should look like. But what I lacked, and didn't realize until I was five thousand words in, was a musical angle that made any form of sense.
@*&%$##*! Back to the drawing board.

It didn't take me long to find the perfect solution, though. And with that last piece, the puzzle fell into place. In less than two weeks, I had sent off my story and moved on to other projects.
Here's the blurb for "Dead Means Dead." I'm still waiting on cover art, or I'd throw that up too. :) I hope you all enjoy it!
Stay tuned after the blurb for my own recipe for a zombie. Just the thing to chase the chill on those cold winter nights! And, if that's not enough zombie goodness for you, here's a link to the official LvZ blog, where you can find the prologue to "Dead Means Dead!"

Louise is having a bad day: a near-fatal overdose of nicotine while cramming for exams, rehearsal under a director she can’t stand, and ill-fitting shoes.  Surely there has to be a limit to what a girl has to put up with!  But then she meets the pretty new stagehand, Angie.  Instant attraction leads to a sexy sojourn in the dressing room. 
The day’s looking up, until the director barges in on their interlude and falls no-pulse dead on the floor–only to recover and attack Louise.  Angie savagely defends Louise and they flee to the safety of the quad.  The girls discover that their fallen assailant is only the first wave of a horrific outbreak and that their campus is cut off from the outside world. 
Their best hope to stay alive is to stay together.  Exploring one another’s bodies and learning the deepest secrets of their hearts in the enforced closeness, each finds in the other’s arms something she never knew she wanted.  But before they can fully explore their new passion, they must learn to survive in a terrifying new world.  
There oughta be a law: Dead means dead!

J.S. Wayne's Zombie recipe

1/2 oz Bacardi® 151 rum
1 oz pineapple juice
1 oz orange juice
2 splashes Grenadine
1 tsp sugar
2 oz light rum
1 oz Captain Morgan Tattoo spiced rum
1 oz lime juice

Combine all ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth. Garnish with a fruit slice, sprig of mint* and a cherry.

*Optional

Have a great month, everyone! (And let me know what you think of the Zombies! You're welcome. :) )

Until next time,

Best,

J.S. Wayne

My (final) G.R.I.P.E. (Great Indie Pub Experiment)

Last year, I announced that I was going to take the plunge and, along with my husband, try out the new trend toward independent publishing--and that I'd post our results here for all to see.

As a reminder, here were the goals I'd set in my last post:

PREVIOUS PROJECTED GOALS (for Sep/Oct/Nov 2011)
Total available titles: 12
Total hours spent per week (writing not included): 5
Total sales projected: 500

A bold, but not crazy step up from my first-quarter goal of 6 titles available and a mere 30 copies sold for 40 hours work per week. Since my actual numbers wound up being better than this, happily, I adjusted the above projection accordingly.

So what happened? Did I make the goal?

Here are the results from September through November:

ACTUAL TOTALS
Total available titles: 28
Total hours spent (per week) on promotion/learning curve/production: 20
Total sales: 3,770

Well! Quite a lot more available titles than we'd planned. My husband and I buckled down and did more writing than anticipated the first two months of the quarter (and then took a break in November). However, this also meant a greater time requirement for production--four times as much. However, the return was seven times greater than projected, so overall we were still ahead.

Not too shabby for our little experiment, I'd say. I will mention that December saw our sales drop(ironically when holiday shopping is at its annual high), which we highly suspect was due to our November hiatus (no new content for a month). Still, we were quite pleased with the numbers overall, which have tallied close to 6k since we began.

With 2011 behind us, the official "Experiment" is over, and we have declared it a success. My husband is doing indie work exclusively and has largely stopped other business ventures in order to focus on it. I will still be writing for my publishers, but will keep doing indie stories as well.

I wouldn't have guessed this when I first started our experiment, but with the way our coming year's schedule has evolved, I've conceded that this must be my last post here at Nocturnal Nights. Sadly, some shuffling of time commitments was in order to keep the train rolling. I've truly enjoyed my time here and hope you all found some helpful (or, at least, entertaining!) info within my posts.

Happy 2012, and Happy Writing to all of you!

My Gr.I.P.E. (Great Indie Pub Experiment)

Yes, good things still come in threes, and I’m starting an all-new series that will appear on this blog in three parts during 2011. They just won’t appear back to back.

After a variety of publishing experiences ranging from awful to awesome, the joy of saying “I told you so” to folks who told me that e-pub would never amount to anything, and years of “don’t go there” conditioning, I’ve decided to take my career in a direction I never dreamed I would.

I’m going indie. And I’m going to post the results right here for all to see.

Am I so dissatisfied with my writing career that I feel forced into self pub? Not in the least! In fact, my earnings have grown exponentially each quarter for the past year. So why take the plunge into the dark, scary world of indie?

I have a lengthy list of reasons for giving it a shot, but to wrap it up in one word, I’m interested in the POTENTIAL. The potential for books I’d back-burnered to see the light of day. The potential to control cover art and sales prices of my work completely—and to change them when I want to drive sales. The potential to pocket a much larger percentage of profits than even my generous publisher offers. The potential to get in on what is being likened to the California Gold Rush while the gettin’s still good.

So, I’ve decided to experiment with this idea and see where it takes me. Am I giving up on other publishing? Nope. In fact, I just started a 7-book series for my current pub, and have another book under consideration elsewhere. I’m merely seeking ways to expand my prospects.

Every quarter, in between each new three-part series, I will post the latest stats and info on how things are working with this experiment. My expectation is that things will start off very slowly, then build over time. My hope is to start seeing a modest, yet steady income from this enterprise within a year or so, and that posting about my journey will help some of you who might be considering this road.

Okay! Here are my starting point stats and goals for the next quarter:

Currently distributing on: Kindle, B&N, Smashwords

Titles currently out: 1. (An erotic short-short story written by my husband, who agreed to be my first guinea pig!)

Days available: 3

Total sales: 1 (A copy sold on Smashwords the first day, which surprised me. I heard that it takes time to get sales, and that they are far more likely to happen on Amazon than other distribs.)

Goals:
Total available by next quarter: 6
Total hours spent (per week) on promotion, learning curve, production: 40
Total sales projected: 30


Whoa! Hold the phone. Why on earth would I want to dive in with paltry projections like these? Patience, grasshopper. Patience. For one thing, at least two of the projected titles will be short stories, which don’t tend to sell as well as novels. However, they DO sell, and can later be bundled into a collection or offered free to entice readers. I’m also projecting low because of the expectation that it takes time to get things rolling, especially since these titles will be released under a number of different pen names (since I write different genres and will also continue putting out my husband’s work). Once I’ve got a substantial catalog of full-length work and bundled shorts, things should get far more interesting. Sales projections will rise each quarter, while hours spent on promotion/learning curve will fall. This is based on what I’ve heard from authors like JA Konrath and Selena Kitt who are making a good run at indie pub.

So wish me luck! And yes of course, you knew this was coming...I just have to give that first experimental indie title a plug here!

PRIVATE PARKING by Michael Jade
An erotic short story

As Annette heads for her car after a late night’s work, the last thing on her mind is the first thing she’s going to get.

When Annette’s longtime friend, Teddy, texts her about an unsatisfying date, mild “sext” flirting quickly gives way to a hot photo session right in the front seat of her parked car. But is she alone in the private parking garage?

Kindle version
Smashwords
B&N/Nook

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

On Critiquing

I glanced in the mirror this morning, and my eyes are green today. A mossy, greenish brown. You might think that's totally irrelevant, but bear with me. My eyes are normally brown. They shift colors with my emotions, what color I wear, and according to what kind of light I'm in. They always have. Depending on how I feel and what I'm doing, they will be anywhere from a golden brown, to deep brown, to green.

My daughter has green eyes, my son has brown. I've seen hers darken to almost brown, and his lighten to almost green. Their father has hazel eyes that change with his moods too.

My mother, my sister, a long-ago boyfriend, and my husband are the only people that have ever commented on my changing eye color. I don't think it's something just anyone would pick up on. You'd have to pay pretty close attention to catch it.

What does my eye color, and that of my offspring, have to do with critiquing? Well, I saw a critic comment to a writer, that eyes don't lighten, darken, and change color. Maybe, she just hasn't witnessed it, because I can tell you they do. Some say eyes just reflect colors around them, that the color appears to change. I've seen mine go from brown to green in a minute, same lighting, same clothes, same mirror, different emotion. I'm also sure that until she witnesses it herself, she'll remain convinced that eyes don't change color. Maybe hers don't. Maybe she's never looked at them that closely. Maybe my offspring and I are weird.

Even if she were right – and my chameleon eyes are some figment of my imagination, the story she was critiquing was fiction. Fiction allows for whole bodies to morph into strange beings. I think eye color could run the whole gamut in any one fictional character, and nobody should bat an eye at it. That is, if it's intentional.

I’m always nervous the first time I crit for someone. Not everyone takes criticism well. Even for those that do, what they know to be true may not be true in my experience. It's subjective to education, to experience, to our own personal understanding of what we've been taught. Like the he said/she heard concept – sometimes lessons are misinterpreted.

Maybe some writers go in expecting a pat on the back for a wonderful story. When instead they get suggestions about where to tighten and polish, it stings. Too many stings, and they get defensive. We don't realize how bad we write before we've suffered under properly wielded crit knives.

Our novels are kind of like our children; we are more intimate, see their traits in a different light than the rest of the world does. What I think is my son's wonderful sense of humor, one of his teachers sees as mouthy disrespect. It’s important to try to phrase things – not sappy or gushy – but in a polite tone. Remember, you're picking on someone's baby.

On the flip side, I’ve seen some crits where the suggestions actually make the work worse. The critter gets the rule confused and insists on changes that actually go in the wrong direction. Probably because someone critted for them and told them wrong.

You have to be able to put in the study time to make sure you understand why you make a change in your ms, don’t just do it because a critter said so. How do you know that the critter truly understands why they make a suggestion? You can’t know, so you have to educate yourself.

I remember the first piece I submitted for critique. I learned a lot from the feedback. I could pat myself on the back for having near perfect grammar and punctuation, my fictional girl and boy were lovable, my narrator's voice rocked. I didn't even know I had a 'voice' on paper. I also learned that I hadn't clue number one about POV, plot, or tension. According to my critics, I got pacing right, but I had no idea how I'd done it.

I hopped right on Google and started studying these foreign concepts. I wanted to write fiction. I enrolled in a class. I discussed my errors with more educated writers. I've spent the last year and a half learning and studying so much that there's been little time to write. I wouldn't have even known what I needed to know if it weren't for my CPs.

So… I got some critiques of my work. They showed me how much I didn't know. I had to return the favors. But, I didn't know anything, how could I help them? My solution – I shared my impressions as a reader.

Reading was what I did best, so I’d let them know what it made me feel, what it made me curious about, what didn’t make sense. I didn’t know back then why these things happened or what to do about them. I left it up to the writer to decide if everything they conveyed was on target – and what to do to hone in on the reader’s emotion they were going for. A lot of times, that's all an author wants, to see if they are making you feel what they want you to.

I think we can all help each other, no matter where we are on the learning curve – we just have to be aware when we crit of what we can help with, and what we can’t. Here are some things I've learned along my critiquing voyage.

If  your strong point is grammar – and the novel is at the polish stage -  go for line edits. But, if you aren’t sure what a crutch word or dangling participle is – why they are considered such, and what to do about it, you should probably just leave it at, “It sounds wrong to me.” Or leave it alone.

If you know the difference between showing and telling, and which works where – because they both are appropriate at times - point it out. If the concepts have you lost, you’re not the best person to help with those issues.

If you naturally see how the tension and pace can be tightened, focus on that. If plotting is what you do best – by all means suggest a twist or point out a hole.

Each element helps tighten a story, but no one of us is an authority on them all, and the writer doesn’t expect us to be. If we were – one critic's eyes on our work would be enough. We wouldn't need groups. Help where you can; skip what you struggle with.

I’m willing to get pretty detailed and take a lot of time doing a crit. That said, if I open an MS that I think really needs ripped into, I’ll leave it. If I get a couple pages in, and it looks like I’ve slaughtered it – I’ll delete it and go on my way. One time I didn't, and I ended up with a nasty troll in my inbox. Never again… If it reeks, it reeks. It's only my opinion and sharing that isn't always helpful.

If I owe them a crit, I may explain a few issues – and summarize - but I won’t keep repeating myself and stabbing at their work. The writer has to learn to spot and fix those issues, so doing it every instance down the page doesn’t help them, IMO. (Unless I’m critting for Brenda – then, I will gleefully throw red all over her MS and explain very little – it’s what she expects from me. Plus I know, without a doubt, she knows what’s wrong when I point it out, and she knows what to do about it.)

There's a humongous wealth of free information on the web about writing fiction – some of it's wrong too – a lot of it is reputable. Make sure you're learning from a reputable source. And by all means, if you found the resource that made showing versus telling finally make sense in your head, share the link when you point it out in someone's work.

I've saved the biggest for last. DO NOT let a critic's word for a concept replace good, old fashioned hard work. Look it up, learn it, then you can explain it when you see someone else struggle with it. DO NOT repeat what a critic told you unless you've researched it and know it to be fact. That little tidbit alone could save a lot of learners a lot of grief.

Happy Writing and Happy Critting Folks! See ya next week.

Anne Noble Interview

1) Why do you write romance?


Because I love to read it!  I write other things as well but romance continues to tell the story of love from the woman’s point of view.  Not many other types of writing show it so well.

2) What inspires your stories?



My life, my sisters, my friends and even the hot guy at the lake. LOL

3) What is your writing schedule?



To put it simply, whenever…wherever.  With children, laundry, meals and a full-time job outside of writing I do whatever I can to make time.  The one thing I’m a stickler for is giving myself a chance to write each day, the chance to write something great or even something bad that I delete later and wonder what in the world I was thinking. J

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



No.  I have other things I do but the only thing I do with passion is writing and loving/fighting my husband of sixteen years.

5) What relaxes you?



Massages, writing with no time limits (what’s that like anyway) and reading a romance novel in the tub.

6) What is your favorite guilty pleasure?

 Guilty pleasure?

Nothing.  I love to dance with one too many drinks inside me, punch my husband in the arm when he’s being a jerk and read lots and lots of romance.  I refuse to feel guilty about any of it.

7) Where is your favorite place to write? Why?



My favorite place is in my car at lunch.  Lame hun?  My lunch hour is the only interval where my time isn’t already spoken for by someone else.

8) Name one person that you feel supported you outside of family members.


My husband.  He is the reason I continue to write when self-doubt invades me.  He loves to read what I wrote, unless of course there is lots of mushy stuff.  That’s when I know I did it right!

9) Can you share a little of your current work with us?


“Remind me to hit Victoria’s Secret on the way home dear,” his voice trailing happily after his footsteps.  “We can’t have Kansas City’s most successful sex writer wearing underwear with Kittens on the front.”

10) Do you have any advice for other writers?


Keep trying, keep evolving but don’t forget to tell your own story.  No one has the same point of view you will.  No one else can tell your story.

It was really great to have you on NN Anne.

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

Writing Sex

I can't resist an intriguing prompt. The prompt was write a sex scene that takes place in a given local. I wrote a sex scene -- no love, romance, or emotional bondage intended.

Jo, a no-fear femme fatale, barred no holes in her pursuit of the object of her desire.

Mick, the tasty morsel she shared an office with, played hard to get by throwing out the morality roadblock. Mick lusted after Jo, maybe even more than Jo lusted after him. He obstructed her path with arguments about office dating, and the prerequisite rules that society demands.

That didn't hinder Jo, since she wasn't after romance, a relationship, or even morning coffee. Jo knew the backlash Mick feared would only come into play if they tried to sustain their tryst in the real world. Jo wasn't about to sweat the petty stuff. She itched to get naked and pet Mick's sweaty stuff.

She thumbed through her list of feminine wiles, and chose the tricks that would demolish his blockades. She used her brain and her charms to end up sandwiched between his solid heat and the icy bite of a metal railing. No promises, no excuses, no consequences. Hot, horny sex with her chosen stud muffin... She wanted it; she got it; she was gone.

It was a fun piece to write. Jo was no wimpy, whiny, abused damsel in distress. She could navigate her way in the world without help. It was liberating to play in her head awhile. Unfortunately, some of my readers didn't share my sense of adventure.

There were comments like "not romantic". Good, I say. I wasn't writing the great American love story. I was writing a sex scene.

Another didn't like the way Jo dallied to her point. An old fashioned tease-and-tempt was, in Jo's mind, the best route to her destination. It was her buildup to the big moment; foreplay, if you will. She was careful to choose the psychological warfare most likely to topple Mick's defenses. His body was willing. Only his psychology kept them apart.

I took the opportunity to flex narration muscles I don't normally use.

My scene was written in first person, to see if I could make a sympathetic character narrate her own story. First person makes it tough for the reader to identify with a character. In order to help the reader establish a connection with my leading lady and gent, I avoided any identifying physical traits. I was happy with the feedback I got concerning the characters. I think I pulled that off.

I wondered if I could make it go real time and be believable. I used present tense. This, it seems, I didn't accomplished so well. With words like dallying, and a comment about forgetting they were even in a stairwell… well, I think I fell flat there. It was still fun to do something different.

The last part of my experiment was to make it sizzle without using any harsh words, while escaping the purple prose trap. I think I managed to check those two items off.

Even though I missed my mark with my audience, the experience was enlightening. The best part is the responses got me thinking about rules for writing sex. I've read them before, but they really sink in when you have something personal to relate them to. We all struggle with our sex scenes a bit, so I thought I'd share my thoughts.

Number one on my list: Know your audience. If your readers expect the raging inferno of raunchy sex in exotic locals – that is what you must give them. Dish up a helping of that course to an audience hungry for a sweet shaky first kiss to plant the seed of forever love; you'll spoil their appetite.

Number two isn't very far from number one. Understand what the sex is about. People have sex for all varieties of reasons: Because it feels good. Maybe they are looking for love, starved for a human connection, or they can't help themselves – as in addiction. For some, it's a way to get what they want, distract a lover from their true purpose, ease some emotional pain, or even because they are bored. And once again - it's my favorite - because it feels good. There's a whole host of sexual motivations I haven't touched on, but that isn't my point. You have to understand why your characters are about to lose their laundry. And, refer back to rule one, and decide if your audience can connect with your reason.

List item number three: Avoid the ick factor, but don't slip into the so-so everyday boring rut of tameness. Be open-minded, but know when to slam the gate before that train of thought derails. I'm not able to elaborate on this one much. I hope that we'll know it when we see it as writers and critters.

Number four: Last, but absolutely not least… switch it up and have fun. Live vicariously through your characters. Put on the Goddess Gown and play with attitudes that may be out of your reach, but so within the grasp of your fiction-vixen. Explore, dream, and give your reader something more than they get in the confines of their reality. Fiction is fantasy.

Thanks for visiting us here at Tabby's!

Brenda Dyer Interview

1)    WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE READERS TO TAKE AWAY FROM YOUR STORY?

I would like my readers to come away with a sense of satisfaction of a story well told—LOL, or shown as we writers are always prodded to do. But more than that, I hope my readers feel the deep love my hero and heroine share. Also, I would love for readers to think of my characters even when they are finished the book. Think of them and smile.

2)    DO YOU HAVE ANY OTHER PASSIONS BESIDES WRITING? IF YES, WHAT ARE THEY?

I love gardening. I get so much joy out of it. For me, a perfect summer morning starts with my coffee out on the deck, looking at all my flowers, smelling the different fragrances, and watching the bees and hummingbirds. I also like to grow my own vegetables. I get such satisfaction from making a raspberry pie from my own raspberries, or having fresh peas from the garden, or potatoes. I love it!

Another passion of mine is drawing and painting. I'm terrible at drawing people—unless they are cartoons. I stick to animals usually: horses, birds, and wildlife, like deer or raccoons, but let's not talk about raccoons, lol. I'm at war with them right now over my raspberries.

3)  IF YOU HAD ONE WISH, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

One wish, huh? Well, if this was real life, I would have to say world peace. LOL, makes me sound like a contestant for Miss America. But since this is for the interview, I'm going to say my one wish would be for my novel to get published and for readers to LOVE it. LOL, I guess that's two wishes, eh?

4)    WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE TV SHOW? WHY?

This is an easy question to answer. The show Supernatural. The reason for this is simple: two hot—and I mean hot—guys fighting evil. Sam and Dean Winchester fight all manner of paranormal creatures. This is right up my alley!

5)    ARE YOU A CAT OR DOG PERSON? DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS, AND IF SO, PLEASE TELL US ABOUT THEM.

I'm a cat person. We have four. Their names are: Author, Tinkerbell—we call her T—Neens, and a beautiful black and white cat we rescued. We named him Lucky. Along with our cats, we have two miniature horses named Kiwi and Ebony, a miniature goat named Cody, chickens, two budgies, and fish. I think that's it. Let me go check . . . . yep, that's it.

6)    WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

I live in Canada on Vancouver Island. It is located on the west coast. I absolutely love it here—well, except for all the rain we get in the winter. The weather here is very mild. We rarely get snow in the winter, which bugs me cause I love snow, but I'm sure I wouldn't if we had it month after month. The summers are beautiful.

7)    WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO WRITE YOUR FIRST BOOK?

What inspired me, hmmm? Well, I guess what inspired me was a romance novel I read—it was fifth in a series, my favorite character—and I was so disappointed with the way it ended so I wrote my own ending, lol. Then something really strange happened. Ideas started popping into my head. Not about the novel that had annoyed me, but something totally different. I ran with it, and before I knew it, I was writing the rough draft for my MS. I've never aspired to be a writer, in fact, I hated creative writing back in high school.

8)    IS THERE A MESSAGE IN YOUR NOVEL THAT YOU WANT READERS TO GRASP?

You know, I never thought there was a message in my novel until I read this question. And yes, there is a message I would like readers to grasp. Tolerance for other races and how damaging rumors and lies can be. In my novel once upon a time, vampires and humans shared the earth as friends—two different species working together in harmony. That fell a part when when demons—housed in human bodies—whispered lies to humans, saying the vampires were trying to kill them so they could take the earth as their own. Humans believed these lies and turned their backs on vampires and started executing them until vamps went into hiding. The world went downhill from there. Vampires and humans became estranged from then on.

9)    NAME ONE PERSON THAT YOU FEEL SUPPORTED YOU OUTSIDE OF FAMILY MEMBERS.

You!

10) WHAT WAS THE HARDEST PART OF WRITING YOUR BOOK?

The hardest part of writing my book has been the whole thing, lol. Writing doesn't come naturally to me. It's hard work, but I so enjoy it.

11) DID YOU LEARN ANYTHING FROM WRITING YOUR BOOK, AND WHAT IS IT?

Yes, I learned that I can accomplish anything if I set my mind to it. I know this sound cliché,  but it's the truth.

Thank you very much, Tabby, for giving me this opportunity. I enjoyed it very much.

It was great to have you Brenda.

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

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

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

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