Guest Author: Dani Collins with a Giveaway

I’ve missed the Ides of March, which would have been a better tie in to my book, The Healer. 

A quick Google search tells me the ‘Ides’ phrase started out as merely the time of the full moon, but that whole 29.53 rotation, rather than a nice round 30, got in the way.  The Romans kept the mid-month date as a marker to settle debts, but pretty soon Shakespeare’s soothsayer was Bewaring it, then ol’ Julius got a tingle down his spine.  

So the expression as we know it now suggests many of the elements that emerge in The Healer: an outstanding payment of a fine, power seeking, lies, conspiracies, the divergence of cultures.  People getting stabbed.

Which doesn’t sound like a romance novel, does it? 

I assure you it is!  I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, ‘cause I’m all about the happily ever after.  Says so right at the top of my website: Pursuing Happily Ever After One Page At A Time.

It’s just sometimes I take the winding route.  Here’s why:

As a reader, there are days you want a quick fix of HEA.  That’s what my Harlequin Presents are for: get straight to the good part, gorge yourself on the all-inclusive extravagance, then promise to stay in touch as you return to your everyday life. 

There’s no shame in it.  We’re all pressed for time.  I love watching movies for exactly this reason.  In under two hours we go from Cute Meet, to Sexy Complication, through the Midpoint Hook, Swivel, Dark Moment and Joyful Defeat. 

Blissful sigh...  Okay, back to reality.

But sometimes you want the long-stay vacation. You want to develop relationships with the locals and learn about their culture and create attachments that stick in your mind.

That was my goal when I sat down to write The Healer.  I didn’t know much about what was going to happen in the story, but I did know I wanted to write the kind of book that a reader immersed herself into for days.  

And so we get an Ides of March puzzle-piece story where myriad small actions grow into a bigger picture of major consequences. And seriously, Vaun has such bad luck in the first chapter—mistaking Athadia for a Kerf like himself, when she’s actually an Alvian healer—well, that’s not exactly shamrocks and St. Paddy’s day, let me tell you.  It’s Et tu, Bruté? all the way.

Here’s a little more about The Healer to hopefully put you in the mood for a ‘big’ book:

Vaun frees Athadia from his Shote enemies, thinking she is a Kerf, like him, but she’s Alvian, one of the mysterious race of healers his people fear. As they begin to realize what she is, his men succumb to superstition and attack her. Vaun intervenes...

Excerpt:

Athadia dodged the next blade that jabbed at her thigh and blocked a third with her forearm, feeling the cut streak deep. If she hadn’t been so taxed, she might have found her center and accompanying discipline, but the men closed in, stealing her concentration. She tripped over the hem of her oversized robe trying to escape another swipe and curled as she fell, protecting herself. A stab nipped into her side anyway.

A male bellow sounded and the sickening thud of a blow followed. She cringed, waiting for boots and pain, but nothing struck her. The sounds of fighting continued though, with cries of protest.

Working up the nerve to peek past her bent elbow, she saw the leader of these Kerfs using his fists to break up the mob, forcing the men back from her. One man babbled hysterically and pointed his sword tip at her, as though he wanted to skewer her to the ground. The big Kerf cuffed him.

Distantly, Athadia heard his fury in his sharp words, but turned herself inward, not bothering to attempt translation as she searched within herself, found shreds of calm and balance, mentally spoke her vows and repaired herself. When she became aware of silence, thick with hostility, she tentatively uncurled. Most of the men looked abashed. Some glared with mistrust. The leader wore an expression of angry remorse.

If she begged for freedom, he might grant it. Longing washed over her for The Circle, the closest thing to a haven her people had left. If she could rest and heal, consult with the Elders, she might try again to fulfill her purpose. If only it hadn’t been so long since she’d spoken. She wasn’t sure she could make herself understood. Perhaps if she just walked away. Surely the Kerf would comprehend that.

He reached to help her rise.

Hesitantly, she let him close his hand around her arm.

Alvian energy burst in her cells, buckling her knees as she tried to stand. She used both hands to catch at him and he steadied her while his own feet staggered, his expression shocked.

Like weak sunlight expanding through a break in the clouds, his gift washed over her, pale and lacking intensity because he was only a Latent, not a full-blooded Alvian. He emanated signals of exhaustion and taxed muscles and seeping battle wounds—a deep need for healing, but he was a glimmer of everything she longed for.

Her energy reached insistently for greater contact, craving Alvian healing. He’s Kerf, her mind insisted, but vows and a fundamental recognition prevailed. She let her body tip forward until she collapsed against him.

~ * ~

Lightheadedness struck Vaun as he absorbed her slight weight, nearly knocked off balance by this feather of woman. His blood heated in one mighty, restorative pulse. At the same time, melancholy homesickness rippled through him. He thought of his mother for the first time in years and experienced a sudden longing to hold his youngest son before Mekel grew too big to be lifted willingly like the older boys.

The strange, out of place thoughts were disconcerting. He dismissed them. Of course he wanted to see his sons and his brother. He wanted to ensure his village, nay his entire Kingdom, was safe. He wanted to report and devise a strategy to keep their corner of Kerf territory protected. He wanted to be home.

“You’re claiming her?” Gunar asked with shock.

Vaun realized his arms had closed around her. He hadn’t held a woman outside a bed since his wife had died, but he tightened his hold as he surveyed the frightened, hostile faces of his men.

“She could have knowledge of Shote armies,” he said, searching for logic behind his purely instinctive compulsion to draw her tight against him. “Information on their weaponry and intentions. And look at her. She’s just a harmless woman.” Near unconscious judging by the limp weight of her. Badly injured, perhaps? A slit in her sleeve showed a wet line of blood on her upper arm. Vaun smeared it, leaving an outline where the welled blood had been but the injury was gone. The hair on the back of his neck lifted.

Harmless, yet unable to be harmed.

To read about my personal journey to HEA as a published author (it took 25 years!) visit my website, find me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter.  You can also download a map of Kerfdom from my website along with a Reading Guide and Character Guide for The Healer.

You can find buy links for The Healer on my site or pick up The Healer through ChampagneBooks, AmazonUS, AmazonCA, Kobo, or ARe.

I’d love to give away an electronic copy of The Healer.  Leave me a comment telling me how you like to get to happily ever after.  Do you prefer to sprint to it or are there times you want to meander through an intricate storyline?

Dawn Kunda Review START ME UP by Victoria Dahl

Tumble Creek, Colorado isn’t the exact place Lori Love wanted to end up spending the rest of her life and certainly doesn’t appear to be the ideal place to find an exciting, untamed, erotic, no-strings-attached hot man.

That’s who she decides to find when she rationalizes her life isn’t going any further than the garage she now owns and where she repairs vehicles.

Quinn Jennings would be the perfect match, if he agrees to just sex.  Just sex and nothing more. No feelings.  No foreplay.  Just hot sex.

Always working and thinking about his architectural plans, Quinn could find a little time to take care of Lori’s inhibitions.  He might be able to squeeze her in.  As long as she doesn’t mind that he’s perpetually late and forgets dates and times if his secretary doesn’t keep him on track.

Lori wants new experiences.  Quinn’s a man.  He wants to give them to her, so he does a little offline research.  Her pile of romance novels makes his body hard when he reads what she’s looking for.  Two can play this game.

Then the case of her father’s death is reopened.  His death might not have been an accident and suspects include Quinn’s clients. 

Lori’s suspicious and always on guard and Quinn doesn’t have a clue to what her problem is. 

A little communication would be advantageous if they are willing to admit that the arms tied to the bed, the public alley, and those late night thoughts of one another could lead to more than Lori’s original proposal.

Dahl’s light and dangerous affair can make you laugh-sometimes at yourself-when she lets her readers experience a dash of humor and respect for the feisty Lori who lives the naughty thoughts we might just put away for later…until we get the nerve to act them out, or at least read about them.

Enjoy,

Dawn

Interview with Lexi Post

It gives me great pleasure to have Lexi Post, Happily Ever After Thoughts’ newest contributor, with me today. Lexi’s debut novel, MASQUE, came out March 8 so I thought I’d take a few minutes and ask her what’s been on my mind. 

Marie: I have to know, Lexi, when did you know you wanted to be a writer?

Lexi: I came late to the game of writing, mainly because I didn’t like to write, but I was always making up stories.  I used to make up a bedtime story every night for my much younger siblings.  Once I discovered romance novels, it was natural that I would eventually want to make up my own story, of course, that meant I had to learn how to write well. That took awhile :-}

Marie: What made you choose to take classic literature and give it an erotic twist?

Lexi: I wanted to try writing erotic romance, but I wanted to base it on something I knew very well. Some people focus on a place or subgenre, but when I thought about it, I realized what I knew the most about was classic literature. When I thought about the first story I wanted to use, the ideas just flooded in! 

Marie: I’ve been in on this story since it was first a twinkling of an idea but I’ve never known, what made you choose “The Masque of the Red Death”?

Lexi: Actually, I was planning to base a story on Poe’s “The Fall of the House of Usher,” but I hadn’t found the time to re-read it when one of my students did a paper on “The Masque of the Red Death.” Since it had been years since I’d read it, I had to read it again before grading the paper.  When I read Poe describing the seven colored rooms my mind suddenly threw me toward the erotic and I knew each room would have to be a separate sexual experience. The only problem was that everyone dies in Poe’s story, so how could I link it to today, and then it hit me. What if the masquerader in the  mask of the Red Death wasn’t Death, but a friend trying to do the right thing, only to have it all go wrong. And so Synn came into existence :-)

Marie: You’re an avid reader so which authors inspire you?

Lexi: Lots of writers inspire me, including you J However, I have to say the one that I learn from every time I read her books and who inspires me with her writing work ethic would have to be Jennifer Ashley/Allyson James who writes erotic romance, historical romance, paranormal romance and even mysteries.

Marie: Everyone has their own writing process…how they come up with ideas, how they name their characters, how they choose the setting. Can you describe your writing process?

Lexi: I call my process “The Dump.” Basically, I get an idea from a classic story which dictates a lot, and then the idea has to percolate in my head for awhile. When I have my goal, motivation, conflict, and the dreaded black moment figured out, I start writing.  This is “the dump.” I literally dump the story into the computer. When I start, I don’t know everything that will happen and I’m continually surprised, but after about 8 weeks of frantic writing, I have a rough draft. Those are 8 weeks of sheer joy! Then I have to let the story sit before I go back and revise. Yikes, what a mess that draft is.  It takes me eons just to spell check the whole thing! It goes to my critique partner, the lovely and talented Marie Patrick.  I think you know her, and then I revise some more and polish it up.

Marie: Fill us in. MASQUE is your debut novel, but I know, as with other writers, you’re constantly working on new ideas so what are you working on now?

Lexi:  I have a WIP that’s just about ready to send to my editor. I just need to do the final formatting.  It’s called To Bea Rappaccini and it’s inspired by Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” only my Bea Rappaccini must have sex to expel the poisons her body produces. Either that or die. Unfortunately, her poisons also make men extremely ill and she has unintentionally sent one into a coma! So when she falls for Zach, things get interesting :-)

Marie:  I thoroughly enjoyed MASQUE (I giggled my way through it) and I’m so glad you could be here with us, Lexi. I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with next.

Lexi: Thank you, Marie. I really appreciate the invitation to talk about my first erotic romance. I’m so excited! I can now call myself an author! To celebrate, I created The Masque Tour where I will be giving away one of these Italian masks at every stop. The full schedule in on my website :-)

Marie: For a chance to win the beautiful purple and black lace Venetian mask pictured here be sure to leave a comment for Lexi.  And don’t forget to include contact info in your comment in case you win. Winner will be announced and contacted on Wednesday.

For more information on Lexi’s stories, visit http://www.lexipostbooks.com/

To buy MASQUE visit         Ellora’s Cave         Amazon

Marie: Check out this excerpt from MASQUE

Chapter One

Cape Breton, Nova Scotia

People. Living, breathing people.

Synn MacAllistair grasped the embrasure of the parapet, his heart thudding as he stared at the vehicle crossing the stone bridge over the moat. It came to a stop at Ashton Abbey’s massive gate.

He waited. The great iron grille, chained and padlocked against intruders, would be considered a significant deterrent to entering. Open it. Damn it, open it!

The vehicle remained stationary. No one exited the large red monstrosity.

Impatiently, he pushed away his hair as the breeze whipped it across his view. What were they waiting for? If they needed an axe to break the chain, he’d gladly provide them with one.

Another smaller vehicle rolling parallel to the west wall caught his attention. It crossed the bridge and parked behind the larger one. More people?

A man stepped from the small conveyance and shuffled to the gate. Synn leaned farther over the battlement, anxious to see if their time had come. The joyful sound of clanking chains floated up to him on the breeze.

Finally! About bloody time. He swallowed hard to keep the yell of triumph from escaping his throat. No need to scare their new guests.

The man below hurried back to his transport and, without hesitation, backed across the bridge and left faster than he’d arrived.

Synn peered down at the red vehicle, still as a brick, its black windows making it impossible to see inside. A door opened and a woman burst onto the cobblestone entrance. She bent over and spoke to someone else still inside. Her blonde hair hid her face, but her ass, covered in men’s trousers, was small, her legs lanky. A woman? A woman dared enter a haunted abbey? He tried to grasp the concept.

His plan was to convince a man to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, but there had to be a man to convince…unless a couple entered the Abbey. Couples enjoyed the Pleasure Rooms as well. If he could persuade a couple to participate in the Masque then his companions could still be freed.

Peering hard, he watched and waited. After what seemed another decade, a door on the other side of the red contraption opened. He held his breath, willing the occupant to have broad shoulders, a beard, anything to indicate a man.

A long, slender leg stretched out, a black high-heel shoe of delicate design at its end, and a feminine hand grasped the side, but remained stationary.

He growled with frustration. “Bloody hell. What am I supposed to do with two women?” He hadn’t expected women. The Abbey overflowed with spirits. Only men should dare enter. How were blasted women going to help him? He paced away from the wall, but quickly returned. Could there be more people inside the vehicle?

He waited, his patience long gone, not that he ever had much, but damn, it’d been a hundred and fifty years. That would strain the patience of an archangel, something he definitely was not.

He glared as the leg moved and within a moment’s breath, the woman unfolded herself from the conveyance.

Synn stared, frozen in time for once, drinking in a beauty far surpassing any painted Aphrodite he’d ever gazed upon. Her long, wavy brown hair captured the sun, shining like fine brandy. Her figure, as lush as any Greek goddess, swayed sensuously in her short dress. Her arms were bare and the smallest of noses held her dark glasses in place. He stepped back, away from the crenellation, his heart racing, his mind whirling with ideas.

He paced the length of the wall. A vision was about to enter his stone prison. A woman fit to be worshiped with every salacious touch he’d ever learned. His cock hardened beneath his pantaloons. Amazed, he stopped and looked down at it. After so many years of having no needs—for food, for sleep, for relieving himself—the last he’d expected to feel was the need for a woman. He shook his head. It defied logic. But if his body could respond, then he could participate, guide a woman through the Masque.

The creaking hinges of the gate brought him back to the wall to see the backs of the two women entering the Abbey courtyard. Two women. Vivid memories of his happier days with the prince caught him by surprise and gave him hope. As he strode across the wall-walk and down the stone staircase, his mind raced with possibilities. One after another they were discarded as he floated to the landing on the second floor. But a new plan began to form as the great pine doors opened.

Marie: Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win the Venetian mask.

One Book At A Time?

When you read a book, are you one of those readers who starts it, reads all the way through, finishes it and basks in a story well-written before you plunge into another story?

           

Oh, I so envy you! I am NOT one of those readers. And I’m not sure why. Have I taken multi-tasking a step too far? Maybe.

           

I am currently reading four novels….no! Wait! That’s five novels. Well, four novels and a resource book but it still counts. This is the breakdown. I have one in my bedroom on my night stand (yes, right beside one of my TBR piles). I have one I keep at work and it will stay there until I finish it (because I do try to take at least thirty minutes for lunch now instead of working straight through which I used to do). I have one in my purse because one never knows when one will be stuck waiting somewhere and I’d rather read than twiddle my thumbs (I also carry a small notebook and pen because one never knows when inspiration will strike). The research book is on my desk in the computer room and lastly (I’m almost embarrassed to admit this), but I have a book in my powder room.

           

Oh, I forgot my Kindle, which I read while walking on the treadmill (a habit I picked up from HEAT’s lovely webmistress). So that makes six! Six books I am currently reading and you know what’s funny, I can pick up any one at any time, read a sentence and be back in the story just like that. It’s a little scary.

            So what about you? One book, two books, three books, four? 

As always, happy reading!
Marie

My Island Life: Beaches

My adventures living on a Caribbean island. Welcome to my monthly, or not so monthly adventures. We try not to commit too soon here on island.

Impression #8

One of the benefits of living on a Caribbean island, to my way of thinking, is that there are beaches. Lots of beaches. And my impression was right, at least as I’ve seen so far. I haven’t exactly explored them all. That will take years. 

But I have explored a few and to my surprise, they are all very different. From the shape, to the vegetation to the entry into the water to the water itself, despite being on the same island, they offer a variety of experiences. This makes sense as the Eastern end of St. Croix has almost a desert climate while the western end is home to a rainforest. So basically, there is a beach for anyone’s preferences.

Cane Bay

On the North Shore is Cane Bay beach.  This is a long beach with the requisite white sand and gradual entry.  It can be rough which is good for body surfing and there is not a lot of shade, but then again, there is Spratnet Bar right there on the beach and Eat at Cane Bay right across the road, so taking a break from the sun is easy on the palette.

Just east of the center of the north shore is Green Cay. This white sand beach is smaller, but well protected and boasts the Deep End bar as well as a hotel, so one can literally stay there for days. Further east on the way to Point Udall (the most eastern point of the United States) is Cramer's Park, a public beach with lots of trees and grass, plus public baths and changing rooms. A nice break from the busier beaches.

Sandy Point

But I have to say the best beaches reside on the West end.  For those who are The Bachelor fans, you saw one of our exquisite beaches, Sandy Point.  This beach has the most beautiful, soft white sand of any beach on the island.  It has no facilities and takes a bit of a trek to get to, but it is rarely crowded, with people that is.  However, it is closed down during turtle season. Yup, turtles return every year to lay their eggs on Sandy Point. A turtle hatching is always a reason for celebration as so many of these gentle creatures are endangered.

Rainbow Beach

But if a person prefers a beautiful white sand beach with a local bar and a pick-up sand Volleyball game then Rainbow Beach is the place to go, especially Sundays. It has live music and Jet Ski Rentals plus the entry into the water is deep, soft sand and there is even a proper parking lot across the street. Of course, I don’t have to park because it is a 5 minute walk from my house.

The last beach I need to talk about is my own. When I moved into this place it was perfect, lots of sand, sandy bottom and it came right up to the house! Since then I have learned that beaches change shape . . . daily! A couple hurricanes off shore and some storms that came from the south took most of the sand away beneath the water, but the beach all the way to the house is still nice and the two coconut trees provide just enough shade if I want it. The best part about my beach is that it takes 3 seconds to get to and that is walking barefoot :-)  So it may not be perfect, but it is perfect for me.

My Backyard

Lesson #8

Every beach is different. I may make time to explore them all, but my own will always be the best :-)

Stay warm,

Alexis