Enjoy Tanith Davenport's take on publicity photos.
When I first became a writer, one of my favourite parts was the comparative lack of visibility. People may learn my name, but they’re unlikely to know my face. Just as well for them, since I’ve known it for years and it’s not that exciting. Unfortunately, having to pose for publicity shots has brought one fact into sharp focus – my friends don’t think my face is that exciting either.
Believe me, there are few things less flattering to hear when your new photo comes up than “Oh my God, your photo is amazing! It looks nothing like you!” I’m under no illusions about my looks – I have mirrors. I also know that whatever magic I can work with make-up is nothing compared to what a photographer can do with a good stylist and great lighting. But I didn’t expect the difference to be quite such a source of enthusiasm.
I suppose it could be worse. I’ve known people to use someone else’s picture for their erotica rather than risk putting off the public with their own. And I’ve never had any readers actually abuse my photos, as I’ve seen happen to other erotica writers. Just as well really, since there’s not much more I could do to improve them apart from bring a better face to the shoot.
Maybe I should learn to be flattered. It’s obviously meant as a compliment. But please, if you meet me at a festival, don’t tell me I look nothing like my photo. I’ve got green hair – I’m hard to miss. And it is me in that shot, I promise. Even if it looks amazing and nothing like me.
Here's a blurb for Tanith's book Sleepwalker
Tally Haslam has too much to deal with. A herbalist and aromatherapist, her latest creation – an aphrodisiac potion – remains in unsaleable condition as she has nobody to test it with. And, much to her annoyance, she sleepwalks.
Hoping to get away from it all for a weekend, Tally travels to nearby Madigan Hall for their yearly Paranormal Evening—but on the first night she wakes up outside the bedroom of another guest: Kyle Hunter, who has chosen to pleasure himself with the door open. Tally escapes without being seen, but is unable to get Kyle out of her head—especially when she finds herself at the same table at him the following evening.
However, Tally’s world is turned upside down when, at the paranormal dinner, she encounters the ghost of the Blue Lady, who seems determined not to leave her alone—and shows a disturbing penchant, when Tally sleepwalks again, for leading her astray…
Tanith has been writing for ten years and first got into erotic romance through the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writer’s Scheme. Besides writing, her first loves are rock music and travel. She lives in Yorkshire with her long-suffering husband and cats.
Visit her website or click here to read an excerpt from Sleepwalker. (Amazon UK link) or Dot com
Showing posts with label erotic romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erotic romance. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Definitely Not a Promo
I was asked to write a blog that wasn't – Buy my book.
Being an author means life is divided into two parts – write the book or promo the book (Capri's Fate). So trying to come up with a non-promo blog almost broke my brain. Then I thought about my latest book – (Capri's Fate) which I am not promoting – and wondered what was different/special about it and it hit me – my sense of humour. (Note: Canadian spelling – not a typo)
I'm a little off the wall when it comes to what I find funny. I've often been the only one in a quiet theatre chuckling at some subtle joke – or worse- sniggering at the lead up to the gag/punch that I see coming.
In my latest – which again I must insist just because I mentioned it -I am not promoting it (Capri's Fate), I wrote in a lot more humour. Humour which I know went straight over some people's heads – this is from responses to book. So I thought I would have some examples of what I find funny and why. Here are some sayings/questions and thoughts I've collected.
Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are flat?
Now this is just pain funny – we all do it. Press the button. Nothing happens. Shake the remote and press harder – it's global human nature and it's silly and silly is funny.
If the temperature is zero outside today and it's going to be twice as cold tomorrow, how cold will it be? Being horrid at math, this question terrifies me until I look at it from a Canadian perspective and the answer is - really friggin' cold! And when it gets to that temperature – all you can do is laugh – but do that indoors or your lungs will freeze. And while you're indoors - read a book. (Capri's Fate)
Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, 'I think I'll squeeze these pink dangly things there and drink whatever comes out?'
Now I'm an erotic romance writer and the possibilities that come from this statement are too numerous to mention. But all of them are just ludicrous (meaning really silly – not the rapper with the same name – which is just ludicrous in its own right)
And lastly
Do I even have to explain why that is hysterical? Or is it just me?
Blurb - What's a woman to do when a voice follows her home and makes mad, passionate love to her?
Corporate business woman, Capricious Gray, is dragged to a sex toy convention by her best friend. Once a shocking, mysterious disembodied voice helps her with her purchases, it follows her home. Passion ensues, leaving Capri torn between lust for her fantasy lover and the desperate need for reality in her life.
Thall, son of one of the Fates, harbors the irrepressible need to be with the woman he's desired from afar for years. In order to make her his, once and for all, he must help Capri get past her fears, including the fear of what he represents - a fantasy.
Can fantasy become a reality for these two lovers?
Excerpt – Set up – Capri and her best friend, Kat, are in an Irish pub and have had a couple of drinks.
"Whole story. Don't interrupt. When we were walking through the displays at the sex toy convention, I heard a voice. He spoke to me, but I couldn't see who it was. He followed me home."
"A stalker!" Kat popped her hand over her lips.
"No. A Fate. Or actually, the son of a Fate." As I continued with my rambling and muddled, but detailed explanation, our waitress deposited round number four. I was half finished with it when I got to the part – "And the sex was so hot, but he isn't real, so I told him to go away. Cause I need a man. A real man. I can't date the air. And now I miss him."
Kat leaned over toward me. Her breath smelled like cream ale. "So, what was it like?"
"The sex?"
"No, the nipple clamps. I really wanted to buy a pair."
"Kat." I fell back against the chair and rubbed my face. "I just told you I met a Fate and had incredible beach sex and all you got out of it was I own nipple clamps."
A frigid chill ran down my back. I glanced up. Every male in the bar was staring at me. Most had that stupid, horny grin on their faces. Why? Because the second I said, I own nipple clamps, the room went dead silent and everyone heard me.
So I did what any self-respecting but totally humiliated woman would do, I ordered another beer.
Kelly-Anne brought it over and smiled. She was practically my bitch by now as I'd been over tipping the whole night. "Patrick said this one's on the house."
"Well you can tell Patrick, I'm not gonna show him my nipple clamps." I glanced up at the other patrons. "Or anybody else."
A case of the giggles hit Kat. She kept trying to tell me something, but would shake with laughter and could only spit out a garbled mess of words. "Yo zed plmps."
Four and a half Guinness Draughts in you and it doesn't take long for the infectious giggling to invade your body. I wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes and started singing, "When Irish eyes are smiling. De da de dum, I don't know the words. But when Irish eyes are smiling…de dum de de da dum dee." I held that last note for several seconds. And proudly I might add, I was only a little off key.
"Okay. Okay. I got it." Kat placed her hand on her chest and tried to control her breathing. "You said nipple clamps!" She burst into hysterics and knocked over her empty beer glass.
"Time to go." I stood and swayed. My knees buckled. The chair pad rose up and met my butt. No, reverse that, I sat down.
Buy Links – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/309990
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-capri039sfate-1172391-140.html
http://www.amazon.com/Capris-Fate-ebook/dp/B00CJ1I6Y0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1366992997&sr=1-1&keywords=new+dawning+bookfair
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Capris-Fate/book-7uOs7lH6QU66B8y_ji9JWw/page1.html
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-capri039sfate-1172391-140.html
Where to find me - Blog - http://myeroticnotions.blogspot.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/daryl.devore
Facebook Author Page - https://www.facebook.com/pages/Daryl-Devore/280168402052520
Twitter - http://twitter.com/daryldevore
Google+ - Daryl Devore
Wattpad - http://www.wattpad.com/user/DarylDevore
GoodReads Author Page - http://www.goodreads.com/DarylDevore
Amazon Author Page - http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004TJ1354
Daryl Devore lives in an in old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, two cats, a large salt water aquarium full of fish and some ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road, or snow shoe across the back acres and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flew high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.
I'm a little off the wall when it comes to what I find funny. I've often been the only one in a quiet theatre chuckling at some subtle joke – or worse- sniggering at the lead up to the gag/punch that I see coming.
In my latest – which again I must insist just because I mentioned it -I am not promoting it (Capri's Fate), I wrote in a lot more humour. Humour which I know went straight over some people's heads – this is from responses to book. So I thought I would have some examples of what I find funny and why. Here are some sayings/questions and thoughts I've collected.
Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are flat?
Now this is just pain funny – we all do it. Press the button. Nothing happens. Shake the remote and press harder – it's global human nature and it's silly and silly is funny.
If the temperature is zero outside today and it's going to be twice as cold tomorrow, how cold will it be? Being horrid at math, this question terrifies me until I look at it from a Canadian perspective and the answer is - really friggin' cold! And when it gets to that temperature – all you can do is laugh – but do that indoors or your lungs will freeze. And while you're indoors - read a book. (Capri's Fate)
Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, 'I think I'll squeeze these pink dangly things there and drink whatever comes out?'
Now I'm an erotic romance writer and the possibilities that come from this statement are too numerous to mention. But all of them are just ludicrous (meaning really silly – not the rapper with the same name – which is just ludicrous in its own right)
And lastly
Do I even have to explain why that is hysterical? Or is it just me?
Blurb - What's a woman to do when a voice follows her home and makes mad, passionate love to her?
Corporate business woman, Capricious Gray, is dragged to a sex toy convention by her best friend. Once a shocking, mysterious disembodied voice helps her with her purchases, it follows her home. Passion ensues, leaving Capri torn between lust for her fantasy lover and the desperate need for reality in her life.
Thall, son of one of the Fates, harbors the irrepressible need to be with the woman he's desired from afar for years. In order to make her his, once and for all, he must help Capri get past her fears, including the fear of what he represents - a fantasy.
Can fantasy become a reality for these two lovers?
Excerpt – Set up – Capri and her best friend, Kat, are in an Irish pub and have had a couple of drinks.
"Whole story. Don't interrupt. When we were walking through the displays at the sex toy convention, I heard a voice. He spoke to me, but I couldn't see who it was. He followed me home."
"A stalker!" Kat popped her hand over her lips.
"No. A Fate. Or actually, the son of a Fate." As I continued with my rambling and muddled, but detailed explanation, our waitress deposited round number four. I was half finished with it when I got to the part – "And the sex was so hot, but he isn't real, so I told him to go away. Cause I need a man. A real man. I can't date the air. And now I miss him."
Kat leaned over toward me. Her breath smelled like cream ale. "So, what was it like?"
"The sex?"
"No, the nipple clamps. I really wanted to buy a pair."
"Kat." I fell back against the chair and rubbed my face. "I just told you I met a Fate and had incredible beach sex and all you got out of it was I own nipple clamps."
A frigid chill ran down my back. I glanced up. Every male in the bar was staring at me. Most had that stupid, horny grin on their faces. Why? Because the second I said, I own nipple clamps, the room went dead silent and everyone heard me.
So I did what any self-respecting but totally humiliated woman would do, I ordered another beer.
Kelly-Anne brought it over and smiled. She was practically my bitch by now as I'd been over tipping the whole night. "Patrick said this one's on the house."
"Well you can tell Patrick, I'm not gonna show him my nipple clamps." I glanced up at the other patrons. "Or anybody else."
A case of the giggles hit Kat. She kept trying to tell me something, but would shake with laughter and could only spit out a garbled mess of words. "Yo zed plmps."
Four and a half Guinness Draughts in you and it doesn't take long for the infectious giggling to invade your body. I wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes and started singing, "When Irish eyes are smiling. De da de dum, I don't know the words. But when Irish eyes are smiling…de dum de de da dum dee." I held that last note for several seconds. And proudly I might add, I was only a little off key.
"Okay. Okay. I got it." Kat placed her hand on her chest and tried to control her breathing. "You said nipple clamps!" She burst into hysterics and knocked over her empty beer glass.
"Time to go." I stood and swayed. My knees buckled. The chair pad rose up and met my butt. No, reverse that, I sat down.
Buy Links – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/309990
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-capri039sfate-1172391-140.html
http://www.amazon.com/Capris-Fate-ebook/dp/B00CJ1I6Y0/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1366992997&sr=1-1&keywords=new+dawning+bookfair
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Capris-Fate/book-7uOs7lH6QU66B8y_ji9JWw/page1.html
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-capri039sfate-1172391-140.html
Where to find me - Blog - http://myeroticnotions.blogspot.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/daryl.devore
Facebook Author Page - https://www.facebook.com/pages/Daryl-Devore/280168402052520
Twitter - http://twitter.com/daryldevore
Google+ - Daryl Devore
Wattpad - http://www.wattpad.com/user/DarylDevore
GoodReads Author Page - http://www.goodreads.com/DarylDevore
Amazon Author Page - http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004TJ1354
Daryl Devore lives in an in old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, two cats, a large salt water aquarium full of fish and some ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks up her quiet country road, or snow shoe across the back acres and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth and a meteorite. She's been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flew high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life's an adventure and Daryl's having fun living it.
Labels:
Canadian author,
Capri's Fate,
Daryl Devore,
erotic romance,
humor
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Gemma Juliana~Seeing through the Eyes of Your Characters
Thanks for inviting me to be your guest today, Roxanne.
One of the most exciting prospects when starting to write a new novel is getting to know what makes your characters tick. I always look forward to writing the heroine’s name on one sheet, the hero’s name on another, and starting to fill in ‘facts’ about them.
Sometimes I think I know the characters because they have been banging around in my head for a while, only to be startled once I sketch them out on paper.
For instance, in the early stages of writing The Sheikh’s Crowning, I decided Princess Yasmine was a shy virgin princess, untouched by human hand. She’d lived a sheltered existence in her brother’s palace, until a rowdy, deep and brooding FBI agent from the USA landed in her world and rattled her sensual cage.
Not so. Yasmine didn’t tell me until Chapter Two that I must go back and rewrite her. She was not a virgin. She was a widow who knew what love and loss was all about. Her experiences led her to determine she would never again love any man whose career was dangerous enough to cost her his life.
The meek, timid woman I’d first envisioned Yasmine to be was a figment of my imagination. That’s saying a lot, as a fiction writer! In reality, Yasmine was a passionate, experienced and sexually starved woman whose heart was breaking at her loneliness. Kings and princes courted her, but none of them made her heart sing. She was crying out for the right man to come into her life and help her feel alive again, but she wanted him on her terms.
Then there was Rick, her hero. He shocked me as well, but not as much as Yasmine. He was the consummate bachelor, in love with his career and with a passion to ‘get the bad guys’… He’d enjoyed short-lived affairs with a rich array of women around the globe, but always guarded his heart.
Rick had no problem pursuing Yasmine when he thought her an ordinary woman, but as soon as he realized she was a princess, he jumped to the conclusion she was too rich for his blood. He couldn’t possibly offer her the sort of life she deserved.
When writing a story, it isn’t enough to get into the heads of your characters, nor even their hearts. As authors, we must become each character, and see their world through their eyes and from their point of view. Acting as if you are that character will reveal hidden gems and facets of their personalities that will never be revealed simply by writing about them.
The Sheikh’s Crowning is a novella with heat level R, and is available as an e-book on Amazon. It is the latest story in the Sheikhs of the Golden Triangle series. Yasmine wants Rick to give up his dangerous career before she can entrust her heart to him. Rick says he can’t consider being with a princess anyway, and he has no intention of giving up his career. When it seems they are locked into a hopeless situation, a twist of fate blows the lid off their issues and offers them an unexpected alternative.
Sometimes a unique location is as much a character as the people who populate a book. I found this to be the case while writing a holiday ghost romance about undying love called Christmas Spirits. The novella takes place in Winterthorne Castle, nestled away on an estate of enchanted land in Ireland. The castle is elegant, lonely, haunted and yearning for a family to call its own again. It was very much a living, breathing entity as I wrote the story, and I was aware of “being” the castle on several occasions, seeing the characters through the castle’s eyes. “If these old walls could talk…” This is still my favorite story so far, for two reasons: Winterthorne Castle and the theme of eternal love.
Thanks for stopping by Roxanne's blog today! What do you think is most important when breathing life into a new character?
Gemma Juliana lives with her alpha hero, a magical dog, and her teen son in an enchanted cottage in north Texas, where she can be found plotting, writing stories, drinking fancy coffees and sampling as many forms of chocolate as she can find. She loves doing research, spinning new stories, and hearing from readers. Her newest release, Autumn Masquerade, will be available on Amazon in mid-October.
Connect with Gemma
GemmaJuliana.com | Twitter | facebook
Buy Gemma’s Books on
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Apple
SmashWords
One of the most exciting prospects when starting to write a new novel is getting to know what makes your characters tick. I always look forward to writing the heroine’s name on one sheet, the hero’s name on another, and starting to fill in ‘facts’ about them.
Sometimes I think I know the characters because they have been banging around in my head for a while, only to be startled once I sketch them out on paper.
For instance, in the early stages of writing The Sheikh’s Crowning, I decided Princess Yasmine was a shy virgin princess, untouched by human hand. She’d lived a sheltered existence in her brother’s palace, until a rowdy, deep and brooding FBI agent from the USA landed in her world and rattled her sensual cage.
Not so. Yasmine didn’t tell me until Chapter Two that I must go back and rewrite her. She was not a virgin. She was a widow who knew what love and loss was all about. Her experiences led her to determine she would never again love any man whose career was dangerous enough to cost her his life.
The meek, timid woman I’d first envisioned Yasmine to be was a figment of my imagination. That’s saying a lot, as a fiction writer! In reality, Yasmine was a passionate, experienced and sexually starved woman whose heart was breaking at her loneliness. Kings and princes courted her, but none of them made her heart sing. She was crying out for the right man to come into her life and help her feel alive again, but she wanted him on her terms.
Then there was Rick, her hero. He shocked me as well, but not as much as Yasmine. He was the consummate bachelor, in love with his career and with a passion to ‘get the bad guys’… He’d enjoyed short-lived affairs with a rich array of women around the globe, but always guarded his heart.
Rick had no problem pursuing Yasmine when he thought her an ordinary woman, but as soon as he realized she was a princess, he jumped to the conclusion she was too rich for his blood. He couldn’t possibly offer her the sort of life she deserved.
When writing a story, it isn’t enough to get into the heads of your characters, nor even their hearts. As authors, we must become each character, and see their world through their eyes and from their point of view. Acting as if you are that character will reveal hidden gems and facets of their personalities that will never be revealed simply by writing about them.
The Sheikh’s Crowning is a novella with heat level R, and is available as an e-book on Amazon. It is the latest story in the Sheikhs of the Golden Triangle series. Yasmine wants Rick to give up his dangerous career before she can entrust her heart to him. Rick says he can’t consider being with a princess anyway, and he has no intention of giving up his career. When it seems they are locked into a hopeless situation, a twist of fate blows the lid off their issues and offers them an unexpected alternative.
Sometimes a unique location is as much a character as the people who populate a book. I found this to be the case while writing a holiday ghost romance about undying love called Christmas Spirits. The novella takes place in Winterthorne Castle, nestled away on an estate of enchanted land in Ireland. The castle is elegant, lonely, haunted and yearning for a family to call its own again. It was very much a living, breathing entity as I wrote the story, and I was aware of “being” the castle on several occasions, seeing the characters through the castle’s eyes. “If these old walls could talk…” This is still my favorite story so far, for two reasons: Winterthorne Castle and the theme of eternal love.
Thanks for stopping by Roxanne's blog today! What do you think is most important when breathing life into a new character?
Gemma Juliana lives with her alpha hero, a magical dog, and her teen son in an enchanted cottage in north Texas, where she can be found plotting, writing stories, drinking fancy coffees and sampling as many forms of chocolate as she can find. She loves doing research, spinning new stories, and hearing from readers. Her newest release, Autumn Masquerade, will be available on Amazon in mid-October.
Connect with Gemma
GemmaJuliana.com | Twitter | facebook
Buy Gemma’s Books on
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Apple
SmashWords
Labels:
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danger,
erotic romance,
FBI agent,
fiction,
Gemma Juliana,
loneliness,
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virgin princess
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Mary Marvella on Writing Sexual Tension
Great to be here, Roxanne.
My critique partners always told me I should write erotica. That always made me laugh. I write love to tease my characters and my readers. Make 'em beg is my motto!
My characters must want each other to the point of pain before I let them make love. I don't enjoy meeting a hero who looks at the heroine's legs and wants them wrapped around him while he makes her come three times. Nor do I like a hero who sees the heroine and thinks her lips are perfect to giving him a blow job, YERK!
When a hero sees the heroine sliding a popsicle between her lips over and over again, then he can imagine her doing that with a certain part of his anatomy. Or when the heroine slides that popsicle inside her mouth over and over again she can imagine doing the same with the hero's extra appendage. I used none of the erotic words, but did you get the point? Now, I could draw out the action and make it clear he has wanted her for a while before he wants the blow job and that she has seen that appendage she wants to taste.
Example:
Cara sat at the bar nursing her Martini. She glared into the mirror at Bill across the room, talking to Suzanne who rubbed against him like a hungry cat. Had he so quickly forgotten what they had almost done last night or was he planning to use his talented tongue on a new woman tonight?
Bill couldn't believe he didn't want to take advantage of Suzanne's obvious offer to get laid. Having her rub her tits against his arm and chest should have made his johnson hard.
He looked toward the mirror and spotted Cara. Would she be willing to pick up where they left off last night? He moved toward her, holding her gaze in the mirror. When she took the tooth pick from her drink and sucked on the olive he nearly swallowed his tongue. He wanted to share that olive and her soft, full lips, to taste olive and Cara, or just Cara.
Her eyes dared him to come get her and he planned to do that very thing. When he stepped close enough to touch her, he took the glass from her hand and put on the bar. He plucked the remaining olive from the toothpick she held, touching her fingers with his.
"Want to swap olives?" he asked. Pressing his lips to hers, he ...
Do you want to know what he does? Will he use his tongue? Will they swap olives? Will he nibble on her bottom lip? Will they kiss at the bar? Will he put his hands on her breasts? Not in the bar, but he will imagine doing it!
Protective Instincts began as a romantic suspense. I wanted the characters to really want to have sex, so I made certain they didn't manage to do what they wanted. When my beta reader and my critique partners begged me to let them do it, I did!
Sam wanted to relax for a few minutes. He’d stopped by to see the bar his old friend opened. Jesse had done all right for himself. He was startled to see Brit and Julie walk through the double doors. Teach looked scared to death.
While he’d done chores at his parents' farm, he thought about the way he’d been drawn to the teacher since he’d met her up close.
All day he’d helped his dad and brother repair fences and paint. He’d tried to work himself hard enough to forget how much Brit aroused him. The strain of wanting to approach her on a physical level, knowing how inappropriate that would be, strained his control.
In the shower, after he’d worked up a good sweat this afternoon, he’d thought about her. His body betrayed him as he imagined kissing her. Even after he’d turned the shower to cold, his mind left him hot. As he ran his Saturday errands he saw her face everywhere. And here she is now, in the flesh.
In his mind she was in the flesh. He hadn’t forgotten his view of her charms when he’d helped her to the bathroom after the attack. And now he sat in the shadows watching Brit feel her way back into the real world. He needed to let her do this without his help.
My critique partners always told me I should write erotica. That always made me laugh. I write love to tease my characters and my readers. Make 'em beg is my motto!
My characters must want each other to the point of pain before I let them make love. I don't enjoy meeting a hero who looks at the heroine's legs and wants them wrapped around him while he makes her come three times. Nor do I like a hero who sees the heroine and thinks her lips are perfect to giving him a blow job, YERK!
When a hero sees the heroine sliding a popsicle between her lips over and over again, then he can imagine her doing that with a certain part of his anatomy. Or when the heroine slides that popsicle inside her mouth over and over again she can imagine doing the same with the hero's extra appendage. I used none of the erotic words, but did you get the point? Now, I could draw out the action and make it clear he has wanted her for a while before he wants the blow job and that she has seen that appendage she wants to taste.
Example:
Cara sat at the bar nursing her Martini. She glared into the mirror at Bill across the room, talking to Suzanne who rubbed against him like a hungry cat. Had he so quickly forgotten what they had almost done last night or was he planning to use his talented tongue on a new woman tonight?
Bill couldn't believe he didn't want to take advantage of Suzanne's obvious offer to get laid. Having her rub her tits against his arm and chest should have made his johnson hard.
He looked toward the mirror and spotted Cara. Would she be willing to pick up where they left off last night? He moved toward her, holding her gaze in the mirror. When she took the tooth pick from her drink and sucked on the olive he nearly swallowed his tongue. He wanted to share that olive and her soft, full lips, to taste olive and Cara, or just Cara.
Her eyes dared him to come get her and he planned to do that very thing. When he stepped close enough to touch her, he took the glass from her hand and put on the bar. He plucked the remaining olive from the toothpick she held, touching her fingers with his.
"Want to swap olives?" he asked. Pressing his lips to hers, he ...
Do you want to know what he does? Will he use his tongue? Will they swap olives? Will he nibble on her bottom lip? Will they kiss at the bar? Will he put his hands on her breasts? Not in the bar, but he will imagine doing it!
Protective Instincts began as a romantic suspense. I wanted the characters to really want to have sex, so I made certain they didn't manage to do what they wanted. When my beta reader and my critique partners begged me to let them do it, I did!
Sam wanted to relax for a few minutes. He’d stopped by to see the bar his old friend opened. Jesse had done all right for himself. He was startled to see Brit and Julie walk through the double doors. Teach looked scared to death.
While he’d done chores at his parents' farm, he thought about the way he’d been drawn to the teacher since he’d met her up close.
All day he’d helped his dad and brother repair fences and paint. He’d tried to work himself hard enough to forget how much Brit aroused him. The strain of wanting to approach her on a physical level, knowing how inappropriate that would be, strained his control.
In the shower, after he’d worked up a good sweat this afternoon, he’d thought about her. His body betrayed him as he imagined kissing her. Even after he’d turned the shower to cold, his mind left him hot. As he ran his Saturday errands he saw her face everywhere. And here she is now, in the flesh.
In his mind she was in the flesh. He hadn’t forgotten his view of her charms when he’d helped her to the bathroom after the attack. And now he sat in the shadows watching Brit feel her way back into the real world. He needed to let her do this without his help.
Blurb:
They met because he had premonitions and she was in peril. But you will never believe why they fell in love. Paranormal romance at its best. After mourning the loss of her husband, Brit Roberts manages to pick up her life as a teacher for a rural Georgia High school. Things are fine until anonymous phone calls turn creepy and her life is endangered.
Sam Samuels isn't just the father of one of Ms. Robert's students, he's a man with premonitions so strong, they make him ill. So when he meets his son's teacher and pain kicks in, he knows something's awry but can't put his finger on it until he interrupts an attempt to rape and kill the teacher. Sam makes it his personal goal to protect her, only he didn't count on falling for her. Someone wants Brit, and now Sam, dead too. Could the death of her ex husband be part of the reason? Can Brit and Sam navigate a relationship despite both of their headstrong natures?
They met because he had premonitions and she was in peril. But you will never believe why they fell in love. Paranormal romance at its best. After mourning the loss of her husband, Brit Roberts manages to pick up her life as a teacher for a rural Georgia High school. Things are fine until anonymous phone calls turn creepy and her life is endangered.
Sam Samuels isn't just the father of one of Ms. Robert's students, he's a man with premonitions so strong, they make him ill. So when he meets his son's teacher and pain kicks in, he knows something's awry but can't put his finger on it until he interrupts an attempt to rape and kill the teacher. Sam makes it his personal goal to protect her, only he didn't count on falling for her. Someone wants Brit, and now Sam, dead too. Could the death of her ex husband be part of the reason? Can Brit and Sam navigate a relationship despite both of their headstrong natures?
Kisses I had no idea I was writing an erotic
romance when I wrote Protective Instincts!
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About Me
I’m a Canadian romance author passionately in love with
every one of the heroes I’ve created in my books, which automatically means I’m jealous of my heroines!
I spend quite a bit of time in Panama, a country I heartily recommend you visit. You’ll find the world’s best undiscovered beaches there—very inspirational for writing.
It's also the setting for Boom! Listen to Your Heart.







