I blogged about this once before on another blog but today I am once again struck by how social media seems to make some people immune from the "filter" we use when we speak to people face to face. Or maybe some of the people I see on Twitter don't have that filter even face to face. There's no way of knowing with people I've neve rmet in person.

Today a prominent review blog reviewed an independently-published book and gave it a fairly scathing review. There were a lot of details about the story included in the review. I will admit this would not be the type of book I would read. Apparently it was never touted to be a "romance" but rather historical fiction and apparently included some scenes of rape including repeated rape of a child that would definitely turn some readers off, me included.

But the Twitter chatter immediately began vilifying the author for writing this stuff. There were comments about not just hating the book but hating the author. And yet some of these same people have also commented that they are not the books they write. Authors of erotic romance have often had to deal with perceptions and assumptions about who they are because of what they write, and have often spoken out about this in social media. But yet they do the same thing to someone else because of something that person has written.

If someone chooses to write about subjects many people find abhorrent, does that mean he or she is a bad person?  There are very likely are people offended by what I've written. And they may have made assumptions about me because of that. I don't have to read about things I find abhorrent. But should I tell people they can't write those things? Should I make assumptions about who that person is because of what they've written? I don't want people doing that to me...

On to Week 2 at Day Dreaming and Scorching Reviews - it's paranormal romance week!

Reading this article in the guardian.co.uk yesterday got me thinking more about the publishing business and the price of ebooks and a whole lot of other random things. I noticed in the comments that a lot of people who read the article were misinformed about ebooks and digital publishing. Many of the comments on the article turned to the ebook vs print book debate, about the loss of the “richly sensual experience” that reading a print book is, etc. etc. I’m so over that debate, so I skipped over those comments.

I tried to talk to my husband last about it last night, but like many people not involved in the publishing industry there were weird things about it that he also didn’t get. Like when I talked about the price of ebooks and how so many people think they should be so much cheaper than print books, he was all in agreement because you know, it costs nothing to produce an ebook.  

Wrong.

I also thought about how maybe I’m different than many readers (and certainly many of the commenters on the guardian article who clearly aren’t talking about genre fiction books). 

Before I purchased my Sony reader, I made regular trips to the bookstore and often dropped a hundred bucks at a time. I thought nothing of shelling out $18 for a trade paperback by one of my favourite authors. That was the price they were and that’s what I had to pay if I wanted to read them. However, I rarely bought hardback books because of the price. When a book by a favourite author came out in hardback, I’d put my name on the waiting list for it at the library and wait out whether my name came up before the paperback version of the book came out.  

Another way I may be different is that I rarely sold my books to used book stores. I keep many of them, but I’m not sure why because I also rarely reread them. I have donated ones that I don’t want to keep to charities. I’ve also shared books with friends, my mom, my aunt but most often we have different tastes in books/authors.  

So having a “physical” book to keep or sell wasn’t something I missed when I got my Sony reader. Also I was thrilled to discover I could buy those $18 books for $9.99. Sometimes even less. And since I was published with smaller digital publishers, I started devouring their books at usually about $5 a pop.  

What are you getting when you buy a book? The guardian article talks about what costs going into producing a hardcover book and claim that it costs a publisher about $3.00 print and distribute a hardcover book, which might then be priced at $30 in the bookstore. Apparently there’s not much difference in costs between a hardcover book and a paperback book, but publishers produce those “premium” editions because there are people who want to buy them.

The article says “Most people instinctively feel that ebooks should be substantially cheaper than paper books, because an ebook is not physically "made": there are no printing costs. But if, says (author Robert) Levine, the real value of a book resides in the "text itself", then the delivery method shouldn't much matter. The fixed costs – acquiring, editing, marketing – remain unchanged.” 

This is very true. Here I also have to mention that many commenters on the article (and my own husband) seemed unaware of the amount of work (and expense) involved in formatting books into digital formats. You are not reading a Word document on your Kindle. With some readers, you’re reading a PDF. Other readers use other formats. When my digital publishers produce ebooks, they have to produce them in numerous formats so that most any customer can purchase that book and read it on whatever reader they happen to have. This is not easy or cheap and often gets overlooked in discussions about pricing of ebooks.

But even so, whether you buy a hardcover book that you can hold in your hands, or a digital book that you load on your reader, what are you really paying for? In the article, “Levine points out, what you're really paying for when you buy a book is something different. You are buying the "text itself". And why is that so expensive? Because the publisher will, in many cases, have paid the author a considerable sum for the right to sell it.”

Yes, the author gets paid something to write the book. Whatever kind of book it is you can be sure a lot of work and that includes blood, sweat and tears often literally, has gone into producing that “story”. And yet  I’ve seen fellow authors say they would never pay more than $3-4 for an ebook.  

Really? 

I can’t believe some authors think their work is worth that little.  

Well, maybe a short novel or novella. But a full length novel? Really? 

The guardian article points out how much Amazon has influenced this line of thinking, with their free reads, .99 books and the 2.99 price point that many self-published authors go to. They also deeply discount prices on other books. “When they first started selling ebooks, publishers argued that they should cost pretty much the same as physical books, and tried to set prices accordingly. Amazon, though, has always been in the business of driving prices down, and sought to sell them as cheaply as possible in order to gain as large as possible a share of the ebook market. In their efforts to drive prices down, Amazon has been hugely assisted (Levine points out) by the fact that they also manufacture the most popular ebook reader. Because Amazon makes big profits from its Kindle, it doesn't need to bother about making profits from its ebook sales. Indeed, if it sells ebooks at a loss, it may still be better off overall, because this will drive up sales of its Kindle.” 

One commenter made what I thought was a very salient point: “… as a writer I keep on having to say I don't write books, I write stories.”

Yes! This! I write stories. My publishers produce books! In different formats! And to me, the value is in the story that I’ve written, not the format that it’s produced in. I don't know what the right price for an ebook is, or even a print book I suppose. The market will decide that, but in the end it has to be enough for the bookseller to make money so they'll keep selling books, for the publisher to make money so they'll keep publishing books, and for the author to make money so she'll keep writing books.

This week begins The Perfect Man Event at Day Dreaming and Scorching Reviews. Up first:  Men in Uniform. Check out these hot hot authors and their hot heroes!

In honour of National Orgasm Day, here is a short excerpt from my book Power Shift, featuring...what else?

He moved again, grabbed her hips and lifted them off the bed, and then his cock probed at her entrance and she pushed back into his groin greedily. “Easy,” he murmured, one hand on the middle of her back between her shoulder blades, holding her down. “Easy, sweetheart.”

The head of his cock stroked up and down between her cheeks, for a moment resting on her anus, thick and heavy, making her shudder with forbidden pleasure. Then he directed his cock to her pussy, probing again, stretching her tissues, pushing into her, filling her with such delicious sweetness. In this submissive pose, hands bound and stretched above her head, his hands holding her hips up to him while he fucked her from behind, she could only submit to it, couldn’t fight it. She gave herself over to it and just sank into it, the edgy euphoria, the dark pleasure.

“So hot,” he groaned, sliding out and then back in with agonizing slowness. “So hot and so damn wet. Christ, Reagan. There’s no way you can tell me that didn’t affect you.”

That was true, but mainly because she couldn’t even speak at that moment, her body so sensitized and her mind so drunk on pleasure.

He slid a hand around her belly, cupped her pussy, so very lovely, his fingers playing with her clit. She jerked against him, cried out, sensation filling her, pressure building inside her, expanding all through her body, burning her from the inside out and the outside in.

He held her as he drove into her in hard, pounding strokes, shaking her body, touching nerve endings inside her that had her head lifting, had her crying out. His hand slid up her back, fisted her hair and tugged, and that final touch sent sensation sizzling from her scalp right to her womb and then it all burst, with cataclysmic force. Blistering pleasure tore through her, dazzling her in the darkness of the blindfold. She cried out again and then he went very still, uttering harsh noises that gratified her and intensified everything, every erotic, electric sensation. He fell over her, his body damp with perspiration against her back, and sank his teeth into the back of her neck, holding her like that, his arms beneath her, as if he were claiming her in some kind of primitive animalistic gesture. It thrilled her to her core.

His breath ragged in her ear, she drifted in and out, unsure how long they stayed like that until he moved away from her, leaving her body sweaty and cool. She lay there, still heady and floating.

The wedding I was at last weekend in Calgary was all about the food. It was a small wedding and they closed down an Italian restaurant for the evening to hold the wedding. The ceremony was held on the terazzo which was lovely. Then we all went inside for dinner. We ate from 6:30 until 10:00. I am not kidding. It was served "family style" with no less than 10 appetizers, 3 pasta dishes, 3 main course meat dishes with several side dshes of potatoes and vegetables. Dessert was served later out on the terazzo again, with several choices. It was amazing food and sooooo good. I love cooking and it totally inspired me to get home and start cooking and since I'm on holidays from the day job I have time for that! Sometimes cooking meals during a busy week can be a chore but during my holidays I plan to try out new recipes. Tonight, inspired by the wedding, I'm making some "small plates" for dinner including tapenade on crostini, bruschetta, Caprese salad and marinated artichoke hearts baked with Gruyere cheese.

Because I like to cook and I often include food in my books I thought I would start sharing some of my recipes, especially ones that appear in my stories. I you look up on the right sidebar you'll see a new link to Kelly's Recipes, where I will add recipes every week. Hope you'll come back and check them out and maybe try them! The picture above is Beef Carbonnade, which Zach makes for Ashlyn in my book Dream Girl.

Nothing like a great summer road trip. Yesterday we drove 13 hours across the prairies from Winnipeg to Calgary. There were a lot of things to see and do along the way but this trip we were on a mission to get to Calgary as quickly as we could for a family wedding this weekend. Our only three stops for gas, food and bathroom breaks were Regina, Swift Current and Medicine Hat.

Here's the inside of the van at 7:00 am as we set out:

Here's the Saskatchewan border








Inside the van at 11:00 am






And what is this? Snow on the prairies in the middle of July?? No! It is salt! This is Chaplin, Saskatchewan.


Many people talk about how boring it is driving across the prairies, with nothing but flat open spaces, but I actually love it. I find the prairies so open and vast, stretching miles and miles in every direction around you. It's not completely flat - there are rolling hills here and there and there is a subtle beauty in the muted colors of gold and green and grayish sage. Occasionally there are fields of bright gold canola and the roadside is lined with yellow daisy-like wildflowers.The sky is enormous overhead and you really get a sense of what a tiny speck we are on this planet, in our van on the highway that stretches miles and miles in front of us and behind us in smooth ribbons. We left in sunshine; drove through overcast skies; more sunshine; a torrential downpour; more sunshine; another downpour with a wicked thunderstorm happening in the distance with lightning and black clouds.

On the way home we'll have a little more time to stop and see more sights.

Besides reading and writing, one of the things I like to do is garden. We've been having a bit of a heat wave here and my flowers are all growing like crazy. I was so impressed with some of my pots I decided to take some pictures and show everyone. Now, I am not a very good photographer so these could probably be a lot better but here goes:

My husband the professional photographer would be horrified by the flare in the back there and I don't know what's going on with that blurry spot on the deck, but oh well. This sweet potato vine is growing like crazy. There's also million bells, petunias and verbena in there.

Another bad job with the flare of the sun off the white wall. One of my window boxes.

I LOVE how this pot turned out! I love how the brown spike, the bronze sweet potato vine and the bronze leaves of the begonias all go so well together. There's also a lime sweet potato vine and a geranium with lime green leaves. I don't even know the name of it, I bought it on a whim because it was pretty and different, and now it's HUGE.

This is my mandevilla.It loves the heat and is climbing high.

I love the weathered look of the terra cotta pot that has developed over the years. Just a simple gernium but it's so pretty.

Today is release day for Power Shift!  Read more about Gabe and how my tortured hero tortured me at Nine Naughty Novelists. Here, I’m going to talk a little about the power exchange or...as it happens in my book, a power shift.

I’m fascinated by the whole idea of the power exchange and who really has control in a relationship. Gabe is a Dominant, who wants to be in control. Has to be in control. It’s often felt that it is really the submissive who has the power, because she (and I say she only because my story features a male Dom/female sub) gives the power to the Dom. If the submissive doesn’t submit, the Dom can’t dominate. But even so, there can’t be submission unless the Dom uses the power. So it’s not just one giving something to the other—it’s an exchange.

I came across this song as I was writing Power Shift. In fact, in the opening scene at le Chateau, I mention the music of Depeche Mode playing and this is the song. You can listen to it here (and I totally suggest you listen to it when you read that scene for the full effect!) but I’m including the lyrics because I think they’re fascinating. If you try to figure out who’s talking, is it the Dom or the sub? Really, it could be either. Because it’s about an exchange of power.

Depeche Mode I Am You Lyrics

Translation in progress. Please wait...

Songwriters: GORE, MARTIN LEE

You have bound my heart with subtle chains
So much pleasure that it feels like pain
So entwined now that we can't shake free
I am you and you are me

No escaping from the mess we're in
So much pleasure that it must be sin
I must live with this reality
I am yours eternally

There's no turning back
We're in this trap
No denying the facts
No, no, no
No excuses to give
I'm the one you're with
We've no alternative
No, no, no

Dark obsession in the name of love
This addiction that we're both part of
Leads us deeper into mystery
Keeps us craving endlessly

Strange compulsions that I can't control
Pure possession of my heart and soul
I must live with this reality

I am you and you are me
I am you and you are me
I am you and you are me
I am you and you are me

There's no turning back
We're in this trap
No denying the facts
No, no, no
No excuses to give
I'm the one you're with
We've no alternative
No, no, no

In other stories I`ve written about the power exchange (that was actually supposed to be the title of Taming Tara, but someone had already used it  ) the characters are clearly defined, Dom and sub. And in Power Shift, Gabe is most certainly Dominant. But for the first time I explored a Dom who needs to give up control.

The exchange of power is based on mutual trust and respect. Part of that respect is respecting the partner’s fears and doubts, needs and wants. It’s about connecting on a different level. In Power Shift, Reagan has an instinctive sense for what Gabe wants and needs. But Gabe is in denial. Gabe believes he has to be in control, always, and he refuses to give it up to Reagan. For a Master Dom, Gabe still has much to learn. As he says, the journey never ends. Gabe learns that there will be times when Reagan needs and wants to submit to him, to give up control. But there will also be times when she needs to take control, when he needs to shift the power to her. Does he need to give up the power —or does she need to take it?

The fluidity of this in a relationship where both partners are in tune with each other’s needs and wants struck me as a power flow. This endless flow of back and forth, giving and receiving, seemed to me more like a shift of power than an exchange. When both partners are open to each other, when they care and trust and respect each other, they know what the other needs and want to give it. Or take it. And if there’s love and commitment, trust and respect, it will balance and shift back and forth.

Here are two short excerpts from Power Shift. The first is Reagan submitting, because that’s what Gabe needs at that moment:

She followed him willingly, knowing what was going to happen, wanting what was going to happen, but unsure of exactly how it was going to happen. Nerves rippled inside her and uncertainty slid down her spine. She was still confused about what had occurred at her apartment, how one minute he’d been all into it and the next pulling away, and then he’d turned all alpha and had basically fucked her brains out on her couch.

Whoa. She went all warm and liquid inside remembering. Even though it hadn’t been tender, it had still been damn hot. And she’d felt the need inside him, driving him, the need for utter control when she could see how out of control his world was feeling. So she’d given it to him, given him what she sensed he’d needed. It made her heart squeeze for him. Which was why she was there. Though she worried a little for herself, she had to do this...for him.

And here’s another excerpt where she needs Gabe to give her the power:

The point was making him feel...something. Anything. Even mild pain was something and the fact that he’d submitted to this was the most important thing. That he’d trusted her, that he’d given this gift to her so she could in turn give it back to him.

Understanding washed over her, an instinctive comprehension of what had just happened, of the gift submission was that she could give to him, and the gift his domination was in return. Tears ran down her face and she dropped the belt and stepped up to him, pressing her body against his. She leaned over his back, wrapped her arms around his big chest and sobbed against him. “Gabe, oh my god, Gabe.”

He straightened immediately, loosened her arms around him and spun around, wrapping her up against his chest. He kissed her and his face was wet too, tears gleaming in the dark stubble on his jaw. Their mouths fused and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, into the back of his neck as she clung to him, tried to climb up on his body to get close enough.

When the kiss ended, she pressed her face to his neck, both of them still holding each other so fiercely she could hardly breath. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

 

As usual I’ll give away a free book to newsletter subscribers (including any new ones who join this week and leave a comment) 

Click to join KellyJamiesonnewsletter

Men have Movember – the month of November when they grow a moustache to raise funds and awareness for men’s health. Now we women have Julyna, a month for raising funds for the research and prevention of cervical cancer. But are women growing moustaches? Oh no... the idea for women is to choose a style for their hair “down there”. You can choose to leave it au naturel, select a design from their website or create your own.

 

The idea arose from a group of women wanting to do something similar to Movember. Apparently ideas that were ruled out were muffember, bevember, and vulvember. Eventually Julyna was arrived at.

It is hoped that the added attention drawn below the belt will inspire women to take care of this area in other ways, i.e. through scheduled Pap tests or by discussing the HPV vaccine with their family doctors.

Of course this begs the question, how will people know? It’s quite obvious when men are growing moustaches, but how will people know if women are supporting Julyna by styling their er...muff?

The article I saw about this in the newspaper had indicated that there would be a pin you could wear if you were participating, but when I visited the Julyna website I didn’t find anything about that. 

I certainly support the cause and trying to raise awareness and funds for cervical cancer. I definitely support the idea of women having regular Pap tests and my daughter did get the HPV vaccine. But despite the fact that I write romance and include some pretty explicit sex scenes, I’m not sure that I’m comfortable going around advertising how I’ve groomed myself down there.  How about you?

Do you think blogging is falling by the wayside in favour of other types of social networking?  

I have to admit I’ve gotten out of my blog schedule. For a while I was pretty good about keeping my Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule. Mondays I’d talk about my writing. Wednesdays I’d talk about what I’m reading. Friday’s would be various things, sometimes little excerpts or sneak peeks of coming books or news about new contracts.

But I haven’t had much good to say about my writing lately and I hate to write negative whiny blog posts. I keep track of what I’m reading on Goodreads, so if anyone’s interested in what I read, you can find me there. The Friday excerpts and news are still good. 

I do love Twitter. It’s short. It’s immediate. It’s interactive. It’s fun. Yes, I sometimes feel constrained by those 140 characters, but you can link to longer things if you like. Facebook – I’m still on the fence about. I like it for some things, but I have to admit to frustration about the changes they make without telling people. I find Twitter easier to interact with people because I can make lists, where in Facebook I can’t and it seems hit or miss if I actually connect with people. 

So maybe it’s time to rethink the blogging thing. 

I’m going to try to post a weekend blog with bits and pieces of things I’ve been thinking about during the week. It might be my writing. It might be articles I’ve read or other blog posts. It might be personal things. It might be things I’ve already Tweeted about or put on Facebook but can talk about at more length. It might be news about covers, releases, excerpts. But I’ll try to do a post every weekend. 

I also haven’t ruled out the idea of another serial story on my blog. I’ve done that twice before and readers seemed to like that. So stay tuned about that. Also I’ll still be blogging with the Nine Naughty Novelists every couple of weeks and we have a GREAT serial story there too! 

So...come follow me on Twitter. We have fun there! And I’m on Facebook and I’ll try to be there more often too. And I’m keeping my reading list updated on Goodreads. And check back here on weekends! There are lots of ways for us to connect!

I have a cover and a release date for Power Shift!

Power Shift will be out JULY 13.

I also did a trailer for Power Shift. I didn't plan to, it just kind of...happened. This is the firs time I've done a trailer using small quote from the book to tell the story rather than a "blurb".  You can see it here.

Here's the blurb and a sneak peek excerpt:

Gabe’s lifestyle as a Master Dom is leaving him empty and cold. Everything else in his life seems to be falling apart too. Taking a break from the BDSM scene seems like a good idea—until he meets the perfect submissive.

Reagan has started a new life as a strong, independent woman. The last thing she wants is to be trapped in another controlling relationship. Letting a dominant man like Gabe into her life could cost her everything she’s worked so hard for. But Reagan sees the emotions Gabe is keeping locked up inside, and somehow she knows how to unlock those feelings.

Gabe is determined to never lose control, show weakness, or reveal the secrets he’s hiding . But the lust he shares with Reagan breaks through his walls. Faced with a bleak, lonely future or shattering those barriers permanently, he must somehow find the strength to let himself be vulnerable so he can experience the joy and sweetness of love.

EXCERPT:

She arrived back precisely on time, an hour pretty much to the damn minute, and he grabbed his camera and his laptop.

“Do you want me to drive?” she asked.

“No.” He would drive. That road through San Marcos Pass was insane and there was no way he was riding as a passenger with someone whose driving skill he had no knowledge of or confidence in. “My vehicle’s right over here.” He led her to his old Jeep.

“I don’t mind driving.”

He stopped dead. Turned and looked at her. “Do you have to argue with everything I say?”

She blinked at him. “I’m not arguing. I merely said I don’t mind driving.”

“You’re doing it again!”

She stared at him, her pretty lips pressed together. Her caramel-colored eyes flashed sparks. “What do you want from me?” she asked coolly. “Do you want me to lie down and roll onto my back like a submissive dog?”

Oh hell, she did not just say that. He stared at her, taking in the pulse fluttering beneath the thin tender skin of her throat, the flicker of her eyes.

“You’d like me to just agree with everything you say, wouldn’t you?” she continued. “Just defer to you on every decision, no doubt. Let you control when our meetings are, where our meetings are and who should drive.”

Uh, yeah. That was what he wanted. He wanted control. He was the Master Dom of Le Château and he set the scene.

But this wasn’t a scene, and he’d walked away from all that until he got his head on straight.

He sucked in a long breath, breaking eye contact with her for a brief pause. He was acting like an idiot, yet again. Gathering up all his self-control he looked back at her. He smiled reluctantly. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s pretty much what I want.”

Several beats of tense silence passed. And then she smiled too. “Well, at least you’re honest.”

Last night something really good happened.

Heh.

I was having a bath, reading a book, and my mind kept wandering from the book to my own WIP.

That hasn't happened for a long time.

Since Friday morning I've written about 8000 words and that hasn't happened for a long time either.

As I was reading, I kept thinking about my characters and what they believe in and some things that are going to cause problems for them, and that made more more excited to keep working on the story so I can find out how they deal with those problems  :-) And that makes me feel so good because I haven't been that excited about a WIP for quite a while.

Okay I don't know if I ever did a sneak peek for this book - Power Shift. I think I was waiting for the contract to get all signed and sealed but we had a small problem due to the postal strike here and I ended up having to resend it to the Ellora's Cave office. I don't have my copy back yet, but apparently it arrived and we've already started edits, so I think we're good to go!

This could be Gabe

The hero of Power Shift is Gabe Pejovic. You may remember him from Power Struggle -- he was the Master Dom of Le Chateau who was Tori's play partner and then helped her and Dev figure things out. A number of readers and reviewers commented that he should have his own story, and I thought so too, so this is it!

I'll write more about this book closer to release (the date of which I do not know, but I expect it won't be too long) but for now here's a tiny unedited excerpt:

The bathroom door opened and light spilled briefly into the room before he flicked the light off and walked back toward her. He was incredibly beautiful, big, strong, his body perfect-male shaped, wide at the shoulders, narrow at the hips. His face was in shadow as he approached her and she watched, made herself sit still despite all her confusion and misgivings.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stopping in front of her.

She had to force herself not to stare at his groin, which was where she wanted to look. Even unaroused, he was impressive, his cock resting on his testicles, still thick and beautiful. She tilted her head back and met his eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said. “But you could tell me what happened.”

His mouth tightened just slightly, his face drawn into austere lines. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh Gabe.” She reached for his hand, so big, calloused on the palms, rough on the fingertips, so masculine and strong. She pulled him forward and he sat beside her. “Just talk to me. Tell me what you were feeling. You know...” She hesitated.

“What?”

“I could take it personally. I could think that you had big regrets about sleeping with me.”

“Christ no!” His shock reassured her, gave her confidence to push forward.

“But you can see why I might think that.” She still held his hand, in both hers, rubbing her thumbs over the back of it.

He sighed.

“So for that reason alone, I deserve to know it wasn’t me,” she continued. “Right?”

“Oh Reagan.” He sighed. “There are thing about me...you don’t want to know.”

“Oh.” She considered that. Truthfully, she didn’t need anyone else’s crap dumped on her. She had enough of her own. And yet...she’d found an amazing way of dealing with her own problems had been by helping others. And also...she found she wanted to know. And wanted to make things better for him. Was this one more challenge in her journey? “So did I just sleep with a psycho? Or is it your midlife crisis again?”

He choked on a laugh and her insides warmed that she’d made him do that. “I’m not a psycho, but I am a bit fucked up.”

She sighed. “Jeez, Gabe, aren’t we all?”

I so wish I had a WIP to tell you about. Really in a bit of a slump here. It's not like I haven't been working mind you...last weekend I did some brainstorming with a couple of the Nine Naughty Novelists and I was excited to get started but then I got first round of edits from one editor, and cover art forms to complete from another editor (my goodness these are time consuming and brain-straining!).

The last two months have been a real challenge for me as an author. When an author says that, you can figure it is:


a. Bad review(s)
b. Rejection(s)
c. Writer's block.
d. All of the above.

When I have one of those times where I feel like I'll never be able to write again, my husband just rolls his eyes, because it's happened so many times and I always do. So hopefully...this too shall pass!

It's been a great week! Three of my books were reviewed at Sizzling Hot Book Reviews - all of them wonderful reviews! Check them out:  Sexpresso Night, Taming Tara and Rigger.

Also  - another contract offer!! This means I now have three more books "coming soon" so I'm really happy about that.  As usual, I don't like to share details until all is signed and sealed so stay tuned, but I will share a little sneak peek excerpt from Rule of Three (and can I just add, after the contract offer I reread this book, and it is HOT!):

            Then Chris was striding toward them, joining them on the dance floor. He pressed against her back, his erection hard against her, and nuzzled her neck. The three of them danced together, hard bodies pressed against her front and back.

            Chris pulled her hair aside to mutter in her ear. “That was so fucking sexy.” She pressed her ass back against him, tightened her fingers on Dag’s shoulders.

            “Your girlfriend is hot, Chris,” Dag said.

            “I know.”

            The music picked up pace again and they continued dancing, still close, just changing the tempo. Heat sizzled up and down Kassidy’s spine and she felt hypnotized by the beat of the music, the hot desire of two men, lost in the utter sensuality of it. She lifted one arm above her head and hooked it around Chris’s neck, four hands on her body. Her breasts swelled and her nipples tingled. She ached to be touched there.

            By the time they decided to leave the dance floor, every nerve ending in her body was on fire, sizzling and snapping with sexual tension.

            The three of them sat on the couch side by side again, damp with perspiration and a little breathless. Some of their friends had already left, others had disappeared perhaps into the crowd on the dance floor, and they were alone. Chris set his hand on her bare thigh and picked up his drink with his other hand.

            “I should get going,” Dag said. “I’ll come by for my car tomorrow.”

            “Why don’t you just stay at our place again?” Chris said. “Saves you a trip tomorrow.”

Kassidy’s blood surged in her veins, hot and scary, as she waited for Dag’s response. A response that seemed...significant. Weighty. A response that took forever.

            “Okay,” Dag finally said.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Lost and Found

by Kelly Jamieson

Giveaway ends June 07, 2011.

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I just finished reading My One and Only by Kristan Higgins. I'd reviewed a review of this book that wasn't so great, and I was worried that maybe there was a Kristan Higgins book I wouldn't like. But I'm happy to say that was not the case! Also happy I didn't let that review turn me off of reading this.

This book has all the usual humor and quirky charactes of a Kristan Higgins book, but I'm a sucker for a reunion story. I'm also a really big sucker for a story where the hero falls in love with the heroine at first sight and loves her forever. He knew the moment he met her he would marry her and he did. Their marriage didn't last, and I could see how they both contributed to that, and also how they were both in denial about their role in the breakdown. I loved Nick and I loved how her loved Harper.

I just started reading The Sweetest Thing by Jill Shalvis, which as it turns out, is another reunion story!

For this Friday sneak peek I'm thrilled to announce that I've signed a new contract with Samhain Publishing!  One Wicked Night will be out...well, I don't know when, but I'll announce the release date as soon as I do. So here's the blurb and a tiny, totally unedited excerpt:


If she's going to risk it all to be bad, it better be good... 

Ten years ago, Kaelin spent a hot, steamy summer home from college, hanging out secretly with her best friend’s younger brother, the town bad boy Tyler Wirth, and his best friend Nick. She thought she was falling in love until she walked in on Tyler, Nick and another girl in a shocking scene of ménage sex and bondage. That scene has haunted her safe, predictable life ever since.  

The fallout from that night tore Tyler’s life apart and he left Mapleglen in disgrace, disowned by his parents. He’s made a life for himself now in Chicago, with a successful advertising career and a unique and complicated relationship with Nick.

Now Tyler’s sister, Kaelin’s best friend, is getting married. The last thing Tyler wants to do is go home to Mapleglen, but his sister wants him there for her wedding. Kaelin doesn’t want to see Tyler or Nick again. Tension is high in the Wirth home, with undercurrents of secrets, sins and sex. But when Kaelin gets fed up with her good girl reputation and, in a crazy act of rebellion, spends one wicked night with Tyler and Nick, the web of secrets starts to unravel ― and none of their lives will ever be the same.

 Excerpt:

Tyler automatically lifted a hand to his smarting cheek and rubbed it, stunned into speechlessness. Kaelin stood there, big brown eyes wide, mouth in an O of horror.  The chatter of the guests faded into silence, only the faint saxophone strains of the jazz CD playing quietly on the outdoor speakers drifting on the evening air.

            Jesus fucking Christ. She did not just do that.

            The two of them stared at each other, the air around them hot enough to burst into flames.

            “Omigod,” she said. She closed her eyes. Opened them. “Omigod.”

            She turned as if she was going to run, and he reached out and grabbed her upper arm. “Oh no you don’t,” he said through gritted teeth, heat still stinging his face.

            “Tyler.” His mother appeared at his side and he became aware of everyone around them, gawking at them as if they were a car wreck on the freeway. Shit. He glanced at his mom, took in the tightening of her mouth, the snapping in her eyes. “What are you doing?” She hissed the words out quietly.

            What was he doing? What the fuck? He was the one who just got decked!

            Nick appeared now, too, calm, controlled. He looked back and forth between him and Kaelin.

            “I am so sorry,” Kaelin whispered to Tyler’s mom. “I didn’t intend to cause a scene.”

            Mom looked at Kaelin. “What did he say to you?”

            Kaelin just stared back at her and shook her head. “It...it wasn’t his fault,” she finally stammered, shocking Tyler. His mom cast a look of disbelief his way. Of course it was his fault. It was always his fault.

            “I’m outta here,” he muttered, trying to push his way past Nick. “Let’s go.”