Our guest today is erotic
romance author Anya Richards and she is giving away a copy of her book Fleeing
Fate. Check out this fun post by her and the excerpt from her newest release Dragon's Claim. Then leave a comment along with
contact information for your chance to win!
I think I may have been a bear in a former
life.
Or maybe it’s just that my tropical roots
run too deep.
I don’t like winter very much. Even after
ten years here in Canada it’s difficult for me to enjoy the season to the
fullest. I know I’ve said this many times before but, to me, ice belongs in a
glass with rum and a chaser, not under my feet.
Spring, now, this is a season I can get
into. The birds all come back. The trees are budding, the grass greens up and
is sprinkled with tiny wildflowers. Yes, the dog sheds like there’s no tomorrow
too, but I’m cheerful enough I don’t mind much. It’s just another sign Old Man
Winter has finally been vanquished!
And, strangely enough, I see a difference
in my writing too, but it may not be in the way you’d expect.
During winter my thoughts tend to turn
toward my homeland—dreaming of the sun, beaches and warmth. As though I can’t
afford to allow my writing to be its usual, often dark and moody self, I play
with lighter fare, plotting breezy books, letting my more playful side come
out. In spring, seemingly with the robins, comes the urge to get back to angst,
drama and conflict, but only in my writing. In real life I’m skipping, humming
“Tiptoe Through the Tulips” under my breath, beaming at all I meet and
exclaiming at how gorgeous the days have become.
I also get inspired to take chances in
spring, opening myself to new possibilities, while during winter I just want to
maintain the status quo—keep the house warm, the food hot and concentrate on
the next submission. In spring though, I start looking around for new
opportunities and thinking about the next level to take my writing to.
It’s telling that my latest release, Dragon’s Claim,
was started in late summer and then stalled
And while there’s a part of me longing to
return to the Caribbean, to right now be looking out my window at a sea shaded
from indigo in the depths to the lightest aquamarine where it laps against a
white sand beach, I sometimes wonder how my writing would be affected if there
were no changing seasons. Hopefully one day I’ll find out (*grin*) but, until
then, the seasons seem to play an interesting and important role in my life,
bringing out the different sides of my personality.
Anyone else have a similar experience?
Bio:
After
living a checkered past, and despite an avowed disinterest in domesticity,
multi-published erotic romance author Anya Richards settled in Ontario, Canada,
with husband, kids, an adorable pup and a cat that plots world domination, one
food bowl at a time. Her slightly darker alter-ego, Anya Delvay, emerges
occasionally to write erotica.
Interested
in all things historical and hysterical, Anya describes herself as intensely
curious, (although the word ‘nosy’ has been bandied about) and a life-long
people-watcher. Using what she’s discovered about people, places and various
weird and wonderful things, Anya has written contemporary, historical and
paranormal/fantasy romance novels, novellas and short stories for Samhain
Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Cleis Press and Spice Briefs.
To
find out more, please drop by Anya’s website at www.anyarichards.com, follow her on Twitter or like her on Facebook.
Dragon's Claim Blurb:
Book three in the
Unveiled Seductions series.
Talathion Frostbane was
tasked with saving his people and took on the responsibility unflinchingly. Yet
all it takes to throw his entire existence into chaos is one encounter with the
wyvern-shifter he spurned two hundred years before. The passion between them is
as strong as ever, but there’s no escaping the expectations of the clan. And
giving in to the all-consuming desire for the dragonkin would have devastating
consequences.
When Hervé Cinq à Sept
travels to the Fey city of Leaich, searching for answers after someone tries to
kill him, what he finds rocks his world in a variety of ways and leads him down
a path of inescapable hunger. As he finds himself on his knees, lost in
desperate need and heading for heartbreak, he realizes why, as a species, the
dragonkin no longer believe in love. It’s so easy to lose everything—pride,
independence, control—when the one you want to claim can never be yours.
Buy link Dragon's Claim:
http://www.ellorascave.com/dragon-s-claim.html
Dragon
Claim Excerpt:
The
wyvern had always been handsome. As a young dragon just past his majority he’d
shown evidence of the man he’d become. But then his beauty was that of
youth—fresh, brash and still somewhat unformed. Now, in the prime of his life,
he was no longer beautiful but absolutely, completely magnificent. Time had
scourged all softness from his face and left it fierce and powerful with a calm
strength Talathion found compelling. His shoulders seemed broader, his chest
and arms more muscular, another sign of the changes maturity had wrought. The
tattoos above his ear and peeking out from beneath the collar of his black
shirt gave him an aura of danger, of being a man unafraid to stand out.
Just
looking at him gave Talathion a shock of excitement, yet it was the wyvern’s
eyes, their expression, he most wanted to see. From the moment they’d met, from
the very first time he’d looked into that emerald gaze, it had haunted him.
Sometimes those eyes danced with laughter, at other times they were serious or
coolly arrogant, but no matter the expression they were always enthralling. And
when the eyelids drooped, veiling but not concealing the flash of dragonfire,
the unmistakable sexual energy surrounding Hervé flared hot and wild…
Talathion
closed his eyes, thankful Hervé’s attention had been focused on whatever he was
doing. Their time together had been so long ago it had no bearing on the
present. And undoubtedly his reminiscences had been altered by the vagaries of
memory.
I
can’t let old longings deflect me from what needs to be done. I have to get
back to Leaich.
Yet just
that quick glance at the man who’d stolen his heart at a time when he could
least afford to give it made his flesh tingle, the muscles beneath grow taut
and hot. A sudden, heightened awareness of his nakedness beneath the covers
made his fingers clench into fists. He tried to ignore the pressure building in
his groin, but was glad of the quilt bunched across his lap as his cock stirred
and began to rise.
“So, are
you hungry?”
In
ways I don’t dare admit to.
Don't forget to leave a comment for a chance to win Fleeing Fate!
