Sunday, November 30, 2008

Angelic Forecast ~ XIII

“Venus and Jupiter are consorting beneath the crescent moon,” I say, my gaze glued to the two beautiful brilliant-white planets in the ink-black night sky. I’d been admiring them for the last week, at least...enchanted by their celestial splendor.
“A dance of beauty and benevolence beneath the beginning moon,” the cherub poetically croons. “Or a chance for beauty to rise in new ways side-by-side with a new benevolence upon Earth.”
“What would that look like?” I wonder, having my own ideas, yet not certain.
“It would look like people cherishing whatever is most beautiful to them, and discovering what is most beautiful to others...and, thus, beginning a better way of life, one ruled by benevolence rather than the ugliness of greed.
“Definitely way too much greed around,” I agree, but don’t elaborate on my soap box. “I don’t think beauty is that recognizable to a lot of people, though. Not true beauty.”
“Hmmm...true beauty could be as simple as a good hearty meal shared with family and friends.”
“Or the kiss between lovers.” Okay, I’m always the romantic.
“The beauty of your doggies.” The cherub touches my shoulder. Immediately I feel his benevolence as an incredible sweetness taking over my body.
“Yes, the beauty of all animals,” I whisper, and know he has departed.

The following week brings the ability to discover beauty anew in your life. What is most beautiful to you in your everyday life? What beauty in the world most inspires you? What about our spinning blue marble, Earth, is most beautiful to you...perhaps, if you could take that dream vacation, where would you go?
This week look for ways to bring beauty and benevolence together in your own dance through life. This will initiate a new passion in you for life, and make clearer how you wish to live your life. And, you will understand what you want to bring forth for yourself and for the benefit of others in this holiday season.
Sometime during this week, also, will come a moment of perfect timing for whatever it is you seek to accomplish.

Angelic blessings from Volcano & Sedona



Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth ~
Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes?

Blurb: Winter Solstice, December 21, 2012 – The end of the Mayan Calendar
What happens when a world weary, worn out incarnated angel, Sedona, who believes she is merely human has three choices after her old van breaks down? ...more

Author Discovery by Lindsay Townsend, BookStrand author of FLAVIA’S SECRET and A SECRET TREASURE ~

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ adventure fantasy erotic romance ~ available from BookStrand ~ ~ ~

Kiss from Savanna Kougar...

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ ~

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Happy Thanksgiving Day from Sedona & Volcano

Thanksgiving Day, 2013 ~ after Winter 2012 in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS

Her gaze riveted by the serene beauty, Sedona stood in front of the rustic lodge’s old-fashioned pane window. Blankets of snow covered most of the high elevation terrain, rising and falling majestically around them. The white frosting of snow had already melted from the trees, the stubbornly clinging leaves fluttering a dance in the brisk winds. Where the sun shone directly, piles of leaves and dried stems looked like the autumn she remembered from living in the midwest.
Feeling the touch of Aru’s wet nose on the back of her calf, she turned, looking down at her doggie baby, almost grown up now. His dark eyes asked, yet were bright with expectation. “Come on,” she sang lovingly to him, and offered her open arms. Instantly, Aru leapt straight up, and landed perfectly in her arms. “Do you want to see? Or do you just want a cuddle?”
Sedona hugged him to her bosom, nuzzling the slick silky fur of his neck as he snuggled against her. After she pressed a smooch on the elegant curve of his neck, he settled in her embrace, and pricked his ears watching the tiny brown birds flit and forage for food.
“It doesn’t feel totally real, does it?” she murmured. “Being here now. After everything I’ve been through in my life.”
Aru answered with a little whine.
“Last year I was cold and hungry and so horribly desperate I couldn’t even describe it. You were probably just born.” Sedona brushed her lips on the top of Aru’s head. “How did you survive? Yes, I know you had angelic help too.”
As she remembered the previous year’s Thanksgiving day, a tide of emotions overwhelmed her, and tears pricked at her eyes. She’d been able to stay in the rundown isolated house for longer than she’d anticipated, before intuitively knowing she had to leave or be captured by the Nazerazzi forces. That, and her food supply had dwindled down to a few raw shriveled potatoes.
Rocking Aru, she listened to the tiny flames crackling in the cozy fireplace behind her. Volcano had just started it with a point of his finger. Then he had possessively swept her against him, gazed into her eyes with an intensity that always made her become molten desire for him. “Rest,” he had ordered, his lips a breath away from her own. “I’ll whip up our Thanksgiving day dinner.”
“You’ll put too much cloud in it,” she’d teased him.
“How can there be too much cloud?” His eyes had glittered like a thousand purple jewels, while his hands passionately roved over her body.
“But I want to cook,” she’d protested, feeling the need to do what she hadn’t been able to enjoy doing for several years. And to make up for what she’d lost, even though she knew it wasn’t possible. It would never be possible.
“I’ll make egg nog with so much cloud in it, you’ll be intoxicated enough to kiss me wherever I want.”
“I already kiss you wherever you want, you bad decadent cherub.”
“Not the way you’ll kiss me after extra helpings of cloud in your pumpkin pie and whipped cream.”
Before she could protest again, he had claimed her mouth, kissing her senseless. Ultimately, he had embraced her tightly against him, and fused their mouths, then brought them both to a heady bliss. Their prolonged pleasure had swirled around them like fiery golden sequins.
Once they both descended, and she could understand his words, he’d whispered in her ear that it was time for him to leave briefly. He’d already told her he’d been divinely instructed to meet another carnal cherub, arriving direct from the heavenly ethers. Kissing the tip of her nose, he’d gradually changed his body to smoke and mist, then vanished.
“Warm,” she murmured down to Aru, feeling the hearth’s flames on her back. “I never thought I’d be this warm again during winter.” Just as her emotions had surged remembering the year before, now the strength of her gratitude soared beyond the thin layer of clouds stretched over the distant mountaintops.
In truth, Sedona was fearful about knowing the depth of her gratitude. What if it was all a dream...and she woke up surrounded by the horror of her past existence? What if she lost everyone and everything again? She squeezed her eyelids closed for a moment, then squeezed Aru tenderly. She’d come a long way toward healing...still, it wasn’t long enough.
Opening her eyes, she nearly let go of Aru. A small puffy cloud scudded toward her in the part of the hazy blue sky she could see. It’s underside gleamed with a rosy pink color. Feeling like an enchanted princess, she watched the fairytale cloud sail closer and closer, and slowly lower to the tree tops.
“Oh, Aru, how could I forget?”
“You were supposed to forget, my angel woman.”
She whirled around. At the same time Aru leapt from her arms to greet Volcano.
“That was you.” She moved toward him, her feet cushioned by air, or so it felt. She glanced downward, seeing only the floor. “I thought it was just an incredible magical dream.”
Scooping Aru up, Volcano woggled him for a few moments, his face radiant with love and affection. Then he set him down, and gazed at her, his expression more radiant. The love glowing in his eyes seared her down to her soul.
She ached to touch him. Yet, she didn’t reach out, but merely waited for him to come to her.
“I look good in rosefire light, don’t I?” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Mr. Cocky Cherub, what don’t you look good in?”
His eyes darkened to utter passion entrancing her as he stepped closer and closer. He didn’t touch her. His gaze touched her. Sedona’s breath deserted her and her heart thumped wildly. She let her head drop back, her face beneath his.
“I look best in you...Sedona, my woman.”

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth...Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes? ~ available from BookStrand ~ ~ ~ An Author Discovery by Lindsay Townsend ~ ~


MIDNIGHT SEDUCTIONS **Endless Romance Writing Contest** ~
For my entry ~ WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ and all the entries ~ ~


Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ ~

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Wednesday's Words for November 26, 2008

One thing about my family: they’re behind me one hundred percent. I can always count on their understanding and support.

At dinner a few nights ago, we were discussing the fact that my beloved, for the first time in more than twenty years, was going to experience a temporary lay-off. It’s not a serious situation, there are many in his industry, and in his company at different sites, who will be forced to live without that pay check for much longer than we will. And I know that many of you may have to face far worse than this, too.

I must confess that we weren’t completely prepared for this, financially. Like a lot of people, we just assumed that everything would continue to go along as it has lately—even though we know better. Still, we were given enough advance notice that we can re-arrange things, and should be able to make out fine. We’re counting our blessings.

If there’s one thing the Ashburys know how to do, it’s tighten our belts.

The one thing that may suffer, however, is my sanity. Because what I am about to endure the last month of the year is a triple whammy: not only will my beloved be home for two extra weeks, but so will my daughter, who gets a break between semesters at College, and my grandson, with his Christmas break from school.

This was the realization that was being discussed, quite merrily I might add, at dinner the other night.

“You’re going to be so happy to have us all here, all day, aren’t you mommy?” my daughter enthused.

“Why, we can all have a great time together,” my husband announced, a huge laughing grin on his face.

“Look, Grandma’s so excited she’s speechless!” chimed in my grandson.

It always amazes me how people can enunciate so well when their tongues are planted firmly in their cheeks.

You see, they’re all laughing because they know that while some writers find their creative juices flow best when they are being bombarded by their favorite tunes at high decibels, I can only write to the sounds of silence.

Total, complete, absolute silence.

Now, the good news is that I do have an office; the bad news is that this office (that is situated between the kitchen and the living room, with no doors) also contains my beloved’s computer, which daughter and grandson use on a very regular basis.

And they all know, sure as God made little green apples, that if they are all at home for days on end, the one thing there is certain to be a dearth of around here is silence.

Now I love my family, I really do, but I fail to see the humor in this. For a period of nearly a month in total (since my beloved had already booked off a couple of weeks at Christmas), I am destined to have to share my space, my time, and my sanity with others.

Did I mention that I should come with the warning: “Does Not Play Well With Others”? It’s true! I really am a sweet, sensitive, considerate human being.

Unless I spend more than a few hours at a time with other people.

It isn’t that I’m anti-social—exactly. It’s just that I enjoy my own company that much more.

The real problem is that I’m a care-taker by nature, and when the house is full of other people, that part of my psyche kicks into high gear. I’m aware of everyone, watching over everyone. Even if I don’t actively do anything to ‘care’ for them, that alertness has been turned on, pushing the amazingly talented, creative and ingenious writer to the side (it’s much easier to write with tongue-in-cheek than to speak that way).

Plus, they make messes. They do! They get themselves snacks and leave their dishes laying around, toss aside newspapers, get things out to amuse themselves and don’t put them away...not to mention what the traffic of that many people into my bathroom can do! The general generation of untidiness plays on my nerves, shutting off the ‘author’ in me and turning on the ‘mom’.

And this happy state gets to be all mine for an entire month, from mid December to mid January.

Aren’t I the lucky one?

To all of my American friends, have a wonderful Thanksgiving. And since it is the time of year to be giving thanks, thank you—for putting up with my essays for two years, now.


Tuesday, November 25, 2008


Claire, the fortuneteller in the Mudflat series, gives a little guidance for the next two weeks. These are based on the degree of the sun and the phase of the moon.



For more, check out Claire's Prediction page on the Phoebe Matthews website.
TARBABY TROUBLE, Book 1, from BookStrand
or Amazon or BarnesandNoble
WELCOME TO MUDFLAT, BABY, Mudflat 2, BookStrand
or Fictionwise or AllRomanceBooks

Monday, November 24, 2008

"Love Slave for Two" Now Available!

I'm so excited! It's like Christmas coming early. *LOL* My first Tymber Dalton book, "Love Slave for Two," is now available from Siren-BookStrand! Click here for more information! It's the first book in a planned four-book (at least) series. I didn't get much sleep last night I was so excited!!!


Nevvie Barton has never truly felt loved or like she belonged anywhere--ever. Abandoned by her adopted family and trapped in an abusive relationship, she takes a job with Tyler Paulson and Thomas Kinsey as their cleaning girl.

Nevvie knows her fantasies about "the boys" will always be just that--the two handsome men are devoted, loving life-partners. Then Tyler and Thomas fall in love with Nevvie and hatch a secret plan to seduce her and make her their permanent third.

For the first time in her life, she feels attractive and wanted. When they ask her to move in and be their personal assistant, Nevvie jumps at the chance. Her planned escape doesn’t go without a hitch, and the boys must rescue her from a brutal man who would rather kill her than let her go.

Can Tyler and Thomas heal Nevvie's wounded body and soul and prove to her that she really is their dream come true?

For a scorching hot excerpt, and to purchase "Love Slave for Two," click HERE.

And if you like vampires, you can purchase my vampire romance (writing as Lesli Richardson), "Love and Brimstone," from BookStrand too! Click here for more information.

Check back to my Siren page frequently for updates on future releases. The first in my Deep Space Mission Corps menage series, "Love at First Bight," is a scorcher you don't want to miss. You can view the trailer for it on my website at: or feel free to stop by my MySpace page at:

Tymber (Lesli)

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Angelic Forecast ~ XII

“The day of thanks arrives.” The heavenly one gleams his gaze in my direction.
“Yes, Thanksgiving Day,” I say, “I hope the wild turkeys who live around here, come for a visit.” I watch the cherub jump down from the small cloud he rode in on...sort of like a magic carpet, only white and marshmallowy. The cloud hovers a small distance from the ground, looking completely adorable. “Your ride home?” I ask, well, because who wouldn’t, if you’ve never seen one before.
“My ride everywhere. It’s amazing where you can go on Earth, riding on a cloud.”
“No problem being mistaken for a UFO,” I agree.
“Don’t say it,” he warns, a dozen twinkles in his laughing eyes.
“Ah, come on, I have to,” I plead, and smile widely.
“Hey you...” he begins for me, then gives a little Jagger imitation.
“Hey you, get off of my cloud...” I sorta sing, badly.
“Jumpin’ Jack Flash, it’s a gas, gas, gas...” he sings. “My favorite Rolling Stones’ song.” He grins from cherub ear to cherub ear.
“Of course, you don’t have to gas up a cloud, do you?”
“Just with love.” He gives his cloud a gentle pat.
I sober up...gas...
“Don’t say it,” he warns.
I don’t.
Still, I wait for this week’s forecast.

The following week of Thanksgiving is about the little things in life, in part. What is the smallest treasure in your life, the one you don’t think of, yet is all-important to you? A kiss from your child? A smile from your partner in life? The confident sparkle in your friend’s eyes? Or, just a sip of hot chocolate or egg nog...or a nip of holiday cheer with those you love? If you notice all these ‘treasures’ in your life, you will discover what direction your life now travels in...and this is crucial to you. For, there is a new and bigger path emerging for you. To walk this path successfully, go forward with the project now percolating in the back of your mind, the shiniest and most magnificent one...and the one which will benefit others the most.


Angelic blessings from Volcano & Sedona



Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth ~
Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes?

Blurb: Winter Solstice, December 21, 2012 – The end of the Mayan Calendar
What happens when a world weary, worn out incarnated angel, Sedona, who believes she is merely human has three choices after her old van breaks down? ...more

Author Discovery by Lindsay Townsend, BookStrand author of FLAVIA’S SECRET and A SECRET TREASURE ~

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ adventure fantasy erotic romance ~ available from BookStrand ~ ~ ~

Kiss from Savanna Kougar...

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ ~

A Thanksgiving Pig

When I was a kid, Thanksgiving was always the big "family holiday". We usually went to the farm that my aunt and uncle owned and had a big family dinner with them, but it was always the next couple of days that stuck in my mind.

Don't get me wrong, though...the turkey and ham that Lucile fixed were wonderful. Her sage dressing, made from homemade breads, was the best you could find. And her pies staggered the imagination. She was an amazing cook, and she never used a recipe or measured anything.

But this was a working farm, and taking the day off on Thursday meant that we had to work hard on Friday and Saturday to make up for lost time.

We did a lot of butchering when we were at my uncle Mike and aunt Lucile's farm back in Missouri—cattle, hogs, chickens, and even a few goats and sheep, but mostly hogs, followed by cattle.

One year, on the Friday after Thanksgiving, we decided to butcher a big hog Mike had fattened over the spring, summer, and fall. I have no idea how much the hog weighed, but he was huge. Mike was a big man, well over 6 feet, and the hog made him look like a child, not much bigger than my 9-year-old self.

Killing the hog was normally not a big deal. Mike used his old WWII M-1 rifle. One shot to the head, and it was all over. Normally...

This hog was tough. Sort of like a B-Grade sci-fi horror flick..."The Hog That Wouldn't Die! See the US Army held at bay by the giant killer hog! See rural Missouri in a state of panic! Coming soon to a drive-in theater near you!"

The first shot, from about 6 feet away, BOUNCED OFF the hog's forehead! Being from a rural part of the country and growing up poor, I've done my share of hunting. I personally have hunted deer. With my own hands, I have used a 30-caliber rifle to kill a deer. Yes, I shot Bambi. At 150 yards, one shot dropped a 6-point buck instantly.

The hog just glared at Mike when shot with the same rifle from only 6 feet away.

Oh, and the hog got mad. Really mad. I can't say as I blame him.

The hog proceeded to chase Mike around the pen. Quickly. If you have never been around hogs, they can move very fast. Just to look at them, laying there in the mud and the slop, you might think they are slow, sedentary animals. They're not.

To go with his height, Mike had long legs. And he needed them. He made about three trips around the pen, with Herr Hog in hot pursuit. Mike was moving like, as the song said, his head was on fire and his ass was catching.

To get the full impact of this memory, you need to see the pigpen clearly in your's about 30 feet square. Surrounding it is a fence made of 1x6 boards nailed to hand-split posts. As I recall, there were four boards from top to bottom. There may have been only three. There was one walk-through gate latched with a length of chain. The chain was nailed to a post and another nail in the gate was used to drop one of the links over to hold the gate shut.

Oh...did I mention that the mud and slop in the pen is about a foot deep? And it's not "just mud". The mud in a pigpen is made up of water and dirt. Mostly. Maybe. You feed hogs corn, other grains, and table scraps—any kind of scraps. It doesn't matter. They'll eat it. And hogs aren't too picky about where the toilet is. So, the "mud" is a mixture of water, dirt, animal and vegetable matter in various stages of decay, and what comes from the business end of the hog. It's slick, slimy, and it stinks to high heaven.

So, here's Mike running for his life from the Killer Hog through foot-deep nasty stuff in the pen. He's wearing knee boots to keep the muck off his feet, mostly. He's carrying a loaded 30-caliber rifle. And the hog is, by now, SERIOUSLY pissed off.

If the visual wasn't enough, the sounds were staggering! The hog was squealing like...well, like he'd been shot. Mike was screaming for help. We were all laughing hysterically. At the time, it seemed like a laughing matter.

I can't really say how long this all went on, but it seemed like a long time. Finally, Mike managed to get over the fence and out of the pen. The hog rammed a post with his head and broke off the 8-inch oak pole flush with the ground. And it started to snow.

Aunt Lucile, hearing the combined screams of terror and delight, came outside to see what the problem was and why we were "foolin' around" instead of working.

Mike, covered from head to toe in specks, globs, and larger bits of "mud" told her the story of the bulletproof hog.

She sighed, yanked the gun from his hands, and fired once. The hog hit the ground, twitched one time, and stopped moving. Lucile shoved the rifle back to Mike and stormed off to the house.

Now, the fun began...

Hogs are covered with a coarse hair. Ever heard of "boar bristle" in hairbrushes? That's what it is. To get the hair off, you scald the hog and then scrap the flesh with a knife. Sounds simple enough, and in the past, it had been.

We used a 55-gallon drum over a wood fire. We would fill the drum with water and get it boiling, and then dunk the hog in using a chain hoist. Pull him out the same way. Then scrap for all you're worth. If any hair remains, repeat as needed.

We got the water to a good, fast roll, and we hoisted the now deceased Killer Hog into the air and lowered him into the boiling water. He barely fit in the drum.

All right, class...what happens when you heat something? Anything! Water, steel, plastics, pretty much everything you can think of. What happens to water when you heat it? That's right, class! It turns to steam, but what else does it do? Does it get smaller, so it will fit in a smaller container? No! That's correct little Debbie! It gets bigger! We say that it expands.

Yeah...water expands when you heat it. So does steel. And copper. And wood. And hogs.

We couldn't get the Killer Hog out of the drum of boiling water because he expanded. Mike said the "SOB done swolled up".

The hog was cooking in there, so we had to get him out.

But that was the least of our problems...

Remember that whole thing about water expanding when it turns to steam? Do you know how a steam engine works? As the water is heated and turns to steam, the expanding steam is used to move a piston in a cylinder. Get a big enough piston and enough pressure from the steam, and you can move a train. Some trains weigh hundreds of tons. Some thousands. The point here is, for the careful reader, that there is a LOT of energy in steam.

As we stood around wondering how to get the Killer Hog out of the 55-gallon drum, we noticed the drum bulging. My dad and Mike exchanged a quick glance, sort of like that look you get just about the time you realize you did something REALLY stupid. Mike yelled for everyone to get away. He grabbed me. My dad grabbed my cousin Darla. We all landed behind the old 1952 Chevy pickup truck sitting nearby.

I had just a moment to reflect on much I liked that old truck. It was the kind with steps on the sides of the bed. Mike had a homemade wooden cattle rack in the bed. We used to ride back there and stand on the rungs of the rack when we went to the river for a swim. It was black. Mostly. There was a lot of rust, too. Just as I was admiring the lettering on the door of the truck with Mike's name and address, the steam reached a critical point in the drum.

The pressure had to go someplace, and there were two options. The first was that the drum could rupture. That could be either a nice, slow splitting, or it could be explosive. That's what worried my dad and uncle.

Instead, the other possibility happened.

The Killer Hog blew out of the drum at a high rate of speed. I can't tell you how fast, though. Something the size of the hog shouldn't be moving that fast. It was really fast. Fast enough that the hog went maybe 50 feet in the air. Not quite straight up, mind you, because the swelling of the drum caused it to lean a little...toward the truck.

The hog went way up in the air. One of the first things that the Wright brothers learned is that what goes up must come down. I guess the hog already knew that.

We managed to get away from the truck before the hog hit it.

The tearing of metal made a screaming sound as the hog gave in to the relentless pull of gravity. The shattering glass flew for many yards in all directions. The snapping of the wood slats making up the stock rack sounded a little like the crack of the M-1 used earlier. The hog itself made a sort of wet, sticky sound. I imagine a bag of wet cement dropped from the Sears Tower would sound about the same when it hits the streets below.

Today, I know how to figure it out. Without getting mathematical on you, let's just say that the hog, if he went 50 feet in the air, hit the roof of the truck at about 33 miles per hour.

He also weighed about half as much as the truck.

As I remember, Mike got $75 from the wrecking yard for the remains of the truck. He bought a 1963 Chevy truck for $100. Overall, that wasn't too bad.

After picking the now badly damaged Killer Hog from the wreckage of the truck, we finished butchering with no more drama or near disasters.

Even today, every time I have bacon or sausage, I check the sky overhead.

Keep Loving!

Melodee Aaron, Erotica Romance Author

Home Page

Melodee's Books at BookStrand
Melodee's Books at Fictionwise
Inquisitor Betrayer

Saturday, November 22, 2008

New G-Spot!

I’ve just sent out the latest issue of my newsletter, The G-Spot.

Highlights this issue:

-- Upcoming Author Appearances
-- What I’m Reading/Recommended Reads
-- New Reviews (Excerpts)
-- This Issue’s Novel Excerpt: VENGEANCE by Donna Dawson
-- This Issue’s Author Spotlight: DONNA DAWSON
-- This Issue's Newsletter Contest: SUBSCRIBERS ONLY!

And more!

To check out the current and past issues or to subscribe, visit:

Hope you enjoy!

4 Cherries for The Wolf in the Mansion!

“I very much enjoyed The Wolf in the Mansion. I found it to be a good paranormal who-done-it ala the television show, Columbo. I knew who the villain was, but I loved how the main characters went about catching the “bad guy”. Lest I forget, the story had very hot romantic scenes as Lincoln and Deja discover a passion that had simmered for five years. A wonderful read that I highly recommend” 4 Cherries, Hibiscus, Whipped Cream Erotic Reviews.

Author Discovery: Review of 'Mucho Caliente' by Francesca Prescott

Does Gemma dare wish upon a Latino superstar?

Thirty-seven year old Gemma hadn't reckoned on being seated next to Latino heartthrob Emilio Caliente on the flight to Ibiza. She's bravely dismissed her cheating husband's generous divorce settlement, opting instead for a creatively satisfying, financially independent, bohemian lifestyle on a Spanish island in the sun.

Falling in love with a pop music superstar eight years her junior was definitely not part of her plan. Common sense dictates staying away from Emilio Caliente and his cinnamon kisses: his life is in turmoil, his latest single has bombed, the press want to see him naked and his hellacious manager seems increasingly deranged.
But surely the chain of extraordinary events that insists on bringing them together is proof that love is oblivious to common sense? Does Gemma dare follow her heart and wish upon a pop star without undermining everything else she set out to achieve?

In this delicious romantic comedy, Gemma is an appealing heroine in the midst of a major life change. Newly divorced from the dull and very unkind Richard and beginning a new artistic life in Ibiza, does she need the complication of pop heart-throb Emilio Caliente? Yes, of course she does!

Written from Gemma's chatty, intelligent first-person viewpoint, Mucho Caliente is an engaging, amusing story, full of high frolics, antics and laughter. Gemma is always prepared to laugh at herself at the foibles of the world. She negotiates her way through complications such as Kevin (another sexy hunk who, like Emilio, is interested in her), a shower consisting of a shower head and large blue plastic basin, missing suitcases, an ex-Miss Sweden and more with sunny charm. I particularly like Gemma's assessment of a bikini as 'leopard print butt floss with matching nipple warmers' and her desire to 'pound X in the tomato zone'.

There are some beautifully ironic, comic moments in Mucho Caliente - look out for the Caliente Fan club and what happens next, especially after Gemma's too-close encounter with a jelly fish.

Strong emotions such as jealousy are vividly and amusingly depicted while throughout Gemma remains sympathetic. When she and Emilio do get together it is very tender and passionate. I love the little love words Emilio uses - very Latin lover!

The setting in Mucho Caliente is also a real plus. It's clear from her detailed description that Francesca Prescott has spend time on Ibiza and she shows the island in all its natural and also frivolous glory, with some particularly lovely descriptions.

Throughout the story holds attention and it really hots up when Gemma's nasty ex Richard appears on the scene and things become really complicated, right to the very end!

Emilio calls Gemma a star and so she is. If you are looking for Mucho entertainment, look no further than Mucho Caliente.

Lindsay Townsend
Please visit my blog at
And my Bookstrand author page at:

Shifting Vampires

Ancient vampires in many cultures merely menaced the countryside and induced the living to desecrate graves and follow superstitions. Absent in old interpretations are angst over the burden of immortality or feeling torn between the ethics of feeding on the living.

As someone who reads paranormal e-books, I've come across several vampire stories and noticed how vampires are changing. Now vampires no longer just turn into bats, read minds or have superhuman strength, they now scale walls, master Eastern martial arts and modern weapons and seem to spend considerable time dressing up in black leather.

So what strange or new innovations have you found in vampires in modern writings?

~ Silapa Jarun

Winning Virgin Blood - Winning Virgin 1

Winning Virgin Love - Winning Virgin 2

Winning Virgin Lust - Winning Virgin 3

Mr. Right - Blind Date After Dark 1

Convince Me

The Awakening - Raven Feathers

Night Huntress

To find more vampire books available at just do a *keyword search using "vampire".

Friday, November 21, 2008

The Enchantress - she's waiting for you!

I'm so excited that the second story in The Song Of The Sirens trilogy is now available in e-format!

Here is just a taste of the adventure to come:

Nicholas couldn’t believe how easy that had been. Glad to be out of the crowded, noisy loft, he let his senses take in the city at night. He’d grown up just across the river in Jersey, but he’d never felt at home here. Never felt at home anywhere, really. Florida suited for now, with its warm temperatures and slower pace. Of course, considering the events of the last three weeks, he’d likely have to relocate.

Hell, he’d probably be so completely bankrupt in the next month that he wouldn’t even have a pot to piss in, let alone a window to throw it out of. Relocating wouldn’t be a problem.
But first, he damn well intended to get some of his own back.
“Is something wrong?”

Nick swallowed his bitterness and took a deep breath. The very last thing he wanted to do was spew his nasty mood onto Twyla. Doing that would end things before they even got started, and he really wanted them to get started.

“Naw. Some of my business didn’t go the way I’d hoped. I know better than to let it get to me, and it’s no way important enough to disrupt our evening together.”

Nick relaxed when they got to the pub. There weren’t many people inside. A quick check of his watch showed him it was ten-thirty, early by New York standards. He reached for Twyla’s hand and then led her over to a secluded booth in the back corner. Rather than crowd in next to her, he sat across from her and tried not to think what she’d taste like.

“What will you have, darlin’?” he asked the question easily, enough of a drawl on the last word that, as he hoped, she smiled.

“A Harp, please.”

“The same,” he told the waitress, then focused on the woman across from him. “You like British beer?”

“I do, on occasion. Coming to an Irish pub, it seems a shame not to indulge.”

“I agree.” He sat back while the waitress delivered their bottles of beer.

“So how many generations back would take you across the pond?” she asked.

“Two of my great-grand fathers were born in Ireland and emigrated. My grandfather had quite the brogue. My father, none at all. What about you?” He liked the way she so delicately poured her beer into the glass, though he bet she really preferred to swig right from the bottle.

“I’ve no idea of my roots, really. So I guess you could say I’m from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.”

Something about her smile really got to him. When they’d shaken hands earlier, there’d been a nice little jolt of raw sexuality between them. That, he figured, had everything to do with her and nothing to do with him at all.

He could feel himself sliding, relaxing, and responding to Twyla’s charm, and that would never do. He needed to remember his plan. Twyla seemed appealing and charming and could oh-so-easily slip under his skin. He understood now how she’d earned the nickname, The Enchantress. Enchanting people ranked as her greatest skill. Well, her second greatest. Twyla’s greatest ability lay in an even more interesting venue, more to the point of his being there, of his having crashed a party just so he could meet her.

Twyla Harper might be a beautiful, desirable woman, but she was also something more.

She was a thief.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Sentinel's Hunger Now Available from Siren Publishing!

Previously only available in Rapture 1 print anthology, Sentinel's Hunger was released today for the first time in electronic format:

Falling to a rare sentinel illness and separated from her charges during a retrieval mission Xevera Nanay encounters the biggest threat to her survival but more importantly her autonomy when paramedic Michael Constantine recognizes and imprisons her to exact revenge for what was done to his mother by her kind.

Duty-bound and loyal Xevera Nanay must come to terms with her heritage of betrayal and treachery when a rare sentinel condition initiates a dangerous and primordial hunger in her that must be fed…by a human.

His conception the result of a rape, Michael Constantine knows what it's like to be unloved and unwanted. When his mother is finally committed after suffering a mental breakdown, he is left an eight-year-old at the mercy of the state's foster system.

Michael, however, is a survivor and the only one in the world who ever believed his mother's story about being attacked by an "other-worldly being." Now an FDNY paramedic, he has dedicated the last twenty-five-years of his life to finding answers and exacting revenge.
But when he is faced with Xevera, a distant cousin of the very being who is responsible for fathering him, will he be able to survive…a sentinel's hunger?

Zara’s Bois Now Available in Print!

Zara's Bois

Zack and the Dark Shaft : Ingenue's Choice: Bouncer's Folly

When the powers-that-be make the decision to return a selfish party-girl, Zara, to Earth on three missions of redemption, can romance and mayhem be far behind? One hot and trendy gay nightclub, two bickering angels and three unlikely pairs add up to steamy nights between the sheets and emotional days of healing and revelation outside of them when the ultimate architect throws His hat in the ring to fix up three wounded souls with their mates.
Check out this print collection at:


Every so often I get a review that makes glad I'm an author. Here is such a review. Love And Seduction In Las Vegas

Dee Dawning
Contemporary, multi-partner,erotic romance
Siren-Book Strand
Sensuality Rating:  E-rotic
ISBN# 1-60601-119-7
104 pages
$ 3.99
EBook - Available   
Rating: 5 Enchantments
Bobbie, Gary, and Vinnie could all be
considered heroes in this twisted tale.
All of them certainly
play major roles
in Loretta’s life.
Loretta is a beautiful woman who puts
a new meaning to the phrase, ridden
hard and put
away wet.
This is an intriguing winding tale of one woman, her challenged life, and the
men who affected it in such a stupendous way.

You know it’s kind of funny with your books Dee, they appear so light hearted
on the outside, but inside they hit some really significant issues. This book was
extremely complex, but you pulled off a lovely story through a myriad of
complexity. I was impressed! In some ways this story was all sex, yet in other
ways it was complete desolation.

I totally enjoyed the happy ever after, which is one of those things that
make me tick, but the twists and turns it took to get there were phenomenal.
Very creative and very intriguing, I completely enjoyed it.

Desiree de Cleves
July 2008

Love and Seduction in Las Vegas

Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Microsoft Reader, HTML, Mobipocket

Price: $3.99

Add to my wishlist
For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of reading, Love and Seduction
in Las Vegas,
Let me assure you, it's a very good book available at a very
reasonable price.

Comments from previous reviews:

"I am always amazed every time I read a book by Dee Dawning. Just when you
think the next one can�t get any better, he pens a read that out tops the last.

Love and Seduction in Las Vegas
is more than just frolicking between the sheets.
It is a story of understanding, love, and learning to accept the other, no matter
what their past. This read really leaves an impression."

Reviewed by: Linda L.

surprisingly complex story with a fairly tight plot and
some decent character development wrapped around
a highly erotic story line. Probably not for the sensitive-
the plot deals with certain taboo issues-nonetheless
readers will find the novel steamy, scintillating, and
quite realistic.

Reviewed by Frost

The Prosecutor's Paramour Released Today!

The prequel to the Wives Tales, The Prosecutor's Paramour released today in electronic format for the first time.Woo Hoo!!!
Check it out! :)

The Prosecutor's Paramour
In the year 2075, undercover enforcer Evie Marsh is dispatched to spy on the ambitious prosecutor, Zachary Valetta, only to fall in love and is betrayed by him as the radical Tiberius Group takes control of the U.S. and turns women into virtual properties in marriage auctions.

A prequel to The Wives Tales.

Siren Erotic Romance

To BUY The Prosecutor's Paramour in e-book format Click HERE

To purchase this story in print format along with three other fabulous titles CLICK HERE

To read an excerpt CLICK HERE

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Wednesday's Words for November 19, 2008

The winds of November have arrived, carrying a preview of the winter to come. At times like these I sit and meditate on that age-old question: why can’t we hibernate like the bears do?

Seriously. I live in Southern Ontario, Canada. On the plus side, my home town is south of all of North Dakota. On the minus side, I live almost dead-center smack dab between two of the Great Lakes – Ontario and Erie. Ever hear the term, “lake effect snow”?

I have arthritis, which means when there are draughts and chilling temperatures, I ache. I live in a house that has more than its fair share of draughts, causing chilling temperatures on a regular basis. Leg warmers are good. Spring is better.

Someone with whom I chat from time to time, a resident of Southern Florida, commented to me just a few days ago that I was lucky to live in an area of the world that had a variety of weather; he, on the other hand, felt that having to put up with 75 degrees Fahrenheit for most of the year was boring. No, he was not being facetious, he was quite serious. His weather bores him.

I wouldn’t mind being that kind of bored. Honest.

Aside from the cold, the other thing I don’t like about winter is that white substance that falls from the sky and makes driving conditions hazardous. My beloved doesn’t drive, so I take him to work, and bring him home again every day. On an average day I drive a total of about 100 miles. That is a lot of driving when the roads are covered in—well, in kaka.

Kaka is white and cold, and can be wet and slippery. Kaka can impair visibility and cake around moving mechanisms, packing solid and freezing, thereby taking moving out of the mechanisms. Kaka has to be shovelled!

Since this season is inevitable, every year I ease myself into acceptance of the fact that the white kaka is coming once more. We’ve already had a couple of days when there were large flakes of it falling from the sky. The first time it happens each year, I point out the window and say in a voice laced with shock and awe, “Wow, look at all that pollen!” It is then the task of my loved ones to tell me—gently, mind you—that the white stuff is not pollen, it is, in fact, snow.

Yes, I know. Snow is pretty. I do enjoy the picture made by snow-dusted evergreen boughs, by gentle rolling meadows of white, the sun shining benevolently, turning the vista golden; or with a bright moon making sparkling and twinkling diamonds of the snow. I do enjoy looking at it. I’d just rather look at it in a photograph.

I know we have to have the white stuff. The farmers need it. They count on the moisture they get from snow to prepare the ground for spring planting. I don’t begrudge the farmers. The crazy people who like to zip around and weave in and out of the landscape on noisy, polluting machines—them, I begrudge. I mean, really. You want outdoor sports, take a walk, or go cross country skiing. Speeding around on a gas-guzzling, carbon-monoxide belching piece of machinery? That, to me, is not sport.

When I was a kid, growing up ‘out in the sticks’, we knew what winter sport was all about. On the other side of the road from our house, an area that was marshy pond in the spring and summer froze in the winter so that you had an ice-skating surface that stretched for nearly a mile. There were areas where you had wide and weed-free ponds—great for playing hockey—and these were connected to each other by narrower channels, where frozen weeds poked their heads up and where you needed to have a care as you navigated on your skates the entire length of the natural skating rink. If you cut over the weeds and weren’t going carefully enough, you ended up face first on the ice. I know, because I had my share of goose-eggs.

Winters past far outshine winters present. Not sure why that is, really, except I suspect my memory has edited out the cold. But as I’m often saying in my essays, everything is a choice, and I want you all to know that even with regard to this season of snow and cold, I chose to take a positive outlook.

In a part of the world where winter can be defined as that space of time from October to March, we’re nearly one third the way through it already.

e-book format AVAILABLE NOVEMBER 20 2008

Monday, November 17, 2008

Midnight Seductions Endless Romance Competition

Hi all

Thanks so much for the support you have shown me over my novel For One Night Only. Iam thrilled to announce that I am a finalist in the Midnight Seductions Endless Romance competition. Go here to view the entry

And here if you just want to vote.

This is a contest to find the best adult excerpt from a novel published this year. The competition is tough with 41 other entrants so I would appreciate your support.

~Luxie Ryder

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Angelic Forecast ~ XI

A burst of neon rose light appears, as if the panoramic sunset streams toward me. The cherub emerges, and grins at me.
"Stunning," I say.
"Almost like you wrote my first contact with my beloved Sedona." Even though the evening’s darkness is taking over, I see the glorious purple glisten of his eyes.
"You’re such a tease. You know I’m half in love with you. Don’t you?" I persist with the silly question, since his gaze fastens on my face, yet he offers no words.
"Hmmm, the joys and perils of being a romance author. How goes it?"
"You probably know I’m doing edits. So far, so good."
With a gentleness that surpasses any understanding, he reaches out, grazing my cheek with his fingertip. "We need all those who write love stories. Romance, it is the very sparkle of the ethers."
I quiver inside. From the sheer joy of being recognized for who I am, and for my purpose.
"The week ahead?" I venture into waters whipped by the perfect storm, if my own intuition is on target.
Silence. Then...
"Let us say, an extreme roller coaster ride. Ups and downs. Be prepared."

The following week brings a unique opportunity for all those who seize it, and embrace it with their hearts. The opportunity is to look back to the land of your dreams, when you were young, and between the ages of ten and twelve. Take a mental vacation back to that time in your life. What did you dream about doing? What did you dream about being in life? And, what did you enjoy doing the most?
For, there is one dream, which may feel like an escape into fantasy, only. Yet, that desire, that dream holds the seeds to your future, especially in the area of your relationships. If recognized, and thought about in the light of your entire life, thus far, this dream will bring more love into your life, and into the lives of everyone around you.

Angelic blessings from Volcano & Sedona
Just in time for Thanksgiving ~

This is a prequel scene to my 2012 fantasy adventure, WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ an erotic romance from ~ Siren-BookStrand ~

Be warned: This is not for the faint-hearted, and is unedited.

Thanksgiving Day, 2012

~ Prelude Scene to WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~

Sedona clutched her knees, and willed herself to stop trembling inside. Beneath her, the ground trembled with wave after wave of aftershocks from the massive earthquake along part of the New Madris fault. It felt like the land had been transformed into a new type of mud-sliding ocean. Sighing, she suppressed her fear and shoved away the sadness threatening to overwhelm her.
At least, she had one thing to be thankful for. The weather hadn’t turned cold yet, whether by manipulation or not. The few blankets she wrapped around herself, at night, kept her warm enough. For now.
Thanksgiving...she’d heard it was Thanksgiving day on the crystal-run shortwave radio she carried with her. Given her situation, Sedona had laughed at the grisly joke, as loud as she dared. Who knew where the monitoring micro waves for sound, were aimed.
Resting her chin on top of her knees, she tightened her arms, and rocked herself, an automatic motion. At least, if she gained no comfort, it kept her blood circulation going. Glancing at her long-expired canister of raisins, she ignored her hunger pangs. She’d found someone’s stash of food, a few items still salvageable. That someone had probably died, already. She’d blessed them, and traveled on, driving her old van on the back roads. Fortunately, she’d found enough water for her converted engine to run on. Staying in one place was never a good idea these days.
Except now, she had no choice. When the earthquake tremors shook the ground viciously, splitting and shredding the road like so much ribbon, she’d crept around the pockets of devastation, searching for a place to hide and hunker down in, until the worst was over. If it was ever over.
Unexpectedly, the taste of past Thanksgiving day dinners filled her mouth. She savored the rare moment of bliss, asking no questions. Closing her eyes, she indulged in the flavors of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy. Green beans with bits of bacon. Pumpkin pie topped with generous amounts of real whipped cream. And french silk pie, a family favorite. With the memories flooding her mind, tears gathered in the corner of her eyes at the loss of her family. Still, they resided in a far better place than she did, now. Heaven.
The strong taste of buttered yeasty rolls distracted her, and halted her tears. Even though it was the same as a desert mirage, her mouth watered ridiculously. As she remembered the good times at Thanksgiving, Sedona sent her gratitude back in time. Why not pile on her gratefulness? Since everything existed simultaneously in time, maybe she would enjoy that part of her life even more. Then.
The delicious taste fading, she opened her eyes. A split second later, Sedona shivered as the small, out of the way house she’d discovered, creaked and rattled around her. The ground rocked from another aftershock, moving like a drunken sailor, as the old saying went. Or, for all she knew, another earthquake. Hell, if it collapsed on her, so what! The only thing she anguished over was how long she’d be in pain.
"Damn!" Sedona tossed off the worn ragged blanket. Her hot flash burned horribly. Seizing her body, it was a wildfire completely out of control, for long torturing minutes. She cursed again. "I might as well be in hell. Straight to hell. No trial. No get-of-jail-free card. Just the devil, his fiery pitchfork pointing the way. Well hell, it’s better than a FEMA-stalag camp."
You’re not going to hell yet...wait, a familiar voice whispered, then chuckled as if everything was just fine.
Thoroughly annoyed, Sedona scowled, not knowing if whoever had been speaking to her for the past few weeks, similar to a spirit from the Other Side, was divine friend or evil foe. She couldn’t tell, her psychic sense of it, remained clear as an acre of mud. Common now.
"Go away," she commanded.
For now, the voice answered.
Sedona shook herself, attempting to shake away ‘the voice’. She trembled violently. If she was lucky, an earthquake would rip the ground apart beneath her right now, and she’d be swallowed up whole. If she was lucky...okay, hell, that wouldn’t happen.
Eyeing the raisin canister again, she decided to wait, since her hunger hadn’t caused a headache yet. The longer she put off eating anything, the longer her little food stash would last. Unbidden, a loud sigh burst from between her severely chapped lips, and she wondered for the zillionth time why she was still alive.
Noticing the aftershock tremors seemed to have ceased, for awhile...maybe...who knew...Sedona shrugged a shoulder, and yawned. If she could fall asleep, that would be better than anything. However, a thin stream of color caught her eye, cutting through the dusty air and the dimness of the room.
Entranced by the rose-pink neon ray, shooting through the tiny dirty window, she pretended for a moment that life was okay, again–that everything was going to be all right. That, once again, she would see sunsets instead of hideous skies, overcast with ugly chemical clouds, and a haze of volcanic ash. That flaming asteroids would no longer pierce the soupy-looking mass.
Rising from the bare mattress, one that had been over-used, Sedona crept forward, her knees creaking from age, and staying in the same position too long. As she dared a peek through the grime-covered window, her heart pounded to beat any band.
Still, sunlight, a real ray from the setting sun, beyond priceless.
Glimpsing the rim of the sun, sheer giddiness danced through Sedona. Well over the murky barely-seen horizon, the rim gleamed weakly, a sliver of yellowish white light. She smiled.
Damn though, if any of the aerial drone cameras caught her, even her reflection, only God knew how fast a team of black-coated Bounty Hunters would arrive. Collecting people like her was good money in these times.
Telling herself to move away, Sedona stared at the lone brazen shaft of light, originating from the sun, then striking the window pane. Tears gathered in her throat at the remarkable site, choking her for an instant. Good Lord, the rose-hued shaft looked like an invitation from heaven. If only...
Forcing herself to take a step back, Sedona knew her only chance for escape would be the van, and out-running the fuel capacity of the Bounty Hunters. For some reason she didn’t understand, their transport vehicles hadn’t been converted to use water, and spent power quickly. True, good water wasn’t all that plentiful in a lot of areas. Whatever...she shrugged, thankful she possessed that advantage. At least.
Sedona took another step back, pivoting toward the interior of the dank room, before she was tempted to stay at the window. Feeling enchanted, she followed the ray with her eyes. A gasp escaped her. Magically, the tiny beam shimmered more brightly, and changed to an amazing rose-pink color.
"My God," she whispered.
Not daring to move, Sedona watched the sun ray slowly expand. Soon, the entire room glowed, bathed in a deep rose luminosity. Her heart tripped rapidly at the sheer beauty of the light, then soared on ephemeral wings.
The feeling of dread always with her, Sedona hoped like hell, this was a mystical event–one not seen by the ubiquitous monitoring grid of the New World Order.
This is your future, the unknown voice interrupted her thought, gentle as a caress.
"Yeah, yeah," she murmured, disbelieving.
Even as she spoke the words, an image formed. A shadow-like figure of a man gradually emerged. Yet, not a shadow. It was a jet black transparency of color. As the shape of the man’s wings became more clearly outlined, her jaw dropped.
Utterly captivated, with hardly a breath left in her body, Sedona stared at the man’s gorgeous, languidly flapping wings.
Moments later, darkness claimed the room again, as if the black angel, hovering in the halo of rosefire light, had never existed.


Where angels fear to tread, 2012 Earth ~
Is a stranger on a superspeed motorcycle her savior from the brutal endtimes?

Blurb: Winter Solstice, December 21, 2012 – The end of the Mayan Calendar
What happens when a world weary, worn out incarnated angel, Sedona, who believes she is merely human has three choices after her old van breaks down? ...more

Author Discovery by Lindsay Townsend, BookStrand author of FLAVIA’S SECRET and A SECRET TREASURE

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ adventure fantasy erotic romance ~ available from BookStrand ~ ~ ~

Kiss from Savanna Kougar...

~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ ~

Hello Everyone!

Thank you for inviting me to blog today for the first time! This is Carol McKenzie and I'm proud to announce that Siren-Bookstrand has accepted two interracial / contemporary short stories of mine--Saved by a Deputy and Fixation to be released next year. I'm very excited about this and can't wait for them to come out.

Story 1: Saved by a Deputy
Liberty drives to Metropolis, Illinois to find safety at her friend's farm. Will, the deputy who lives next door, the one who promises to watch over her help to protect her from her evil ex? Liberty's story is grim and her ex-boyfriend is in jail. He may try to find her again one day and harm her. Liberty barely gets settled when Will drives up. She learns he is an ex-marine, a tough guy who attracts her. Will they get together? Will he save her?

Story 2: Fixation

Will Lenore Mueller be able to lose the weirdo who stalks her through most of the story, Fixation?

She gets an invitation from a lover in her past. Sawyer is now a Deputy Sheriff who works and lives in a nearby county. He and his sister invites Lenore to join them on a biker’s run to the state fair. Lenore had been corresponding with Brianna through email. Brianna didn’t tell her that Sawyer is now free of his relationship with another woman.

During the biker’s rally, the four of them plan to spend the night in separate tents and go to the fair, returning to Pleasant City the following day. Will they get back together and will Sawyer stop the stalker?

Thank you,
Carol McKenzie

email: mckbooks(at)

Exercise: The Reluctant I

My Book Lavender Lust, by Cricket Sawyer ISBN1-60601-136-7 from BookStrand available now and the woman who guided my desire to express who I am, a tribute.

I sat there listening to her always with the phrases for everything. A quote, a song title, a bible verse, pulled as if from a small box in her mind. This time it was essential that her directive be avoided (not that it was known then.)

"Brags a good bargain, but hold on is a lot better," she said.

"Then how do you propose a writer will sell his/her work? No one can promote what another has written as well as the author. It's his/her baby, birthed with no fewer labor pains than the birth of a human infant. It seems weird to internalize that phrase and know now that one size, or in this case, one phrase, does not fit all.

Years after her death her phrases pop up as rules of life. Life is not a box of little ticker tape answers to every questions, though a lot of those do strike home with a ring of truth. Following, hanging on her every word helped to raise a lemming, a self-conscious, fearful individual with a couple dozen successes that many have never had, and yet that success feels like an embarrassment. It shouldn't.

Not all her phrases affected life that same way. Expressing the way her grandfather began a story - a phrase she repeated often, began a story created for my only Young Adult Historical novel. Watch For the Raven was born from her phrase, "When Tag was a pup, and turkey's chewed tobaccy."
Her phrases in all fairness did guide and still do.

We stood, the five of us, at her coffin during her wake, the final time we were able to talk with her and reminisced those phrases and funny fax paus she emotionally rendered throughout our growing years. "I'll slap my face against the back of your hand," was meant to be an admonition to my brother for inappropriate actions and words that we no longer remembered. We did remember watching our dad try to repress the laughter lighting up his mahogany eyes, the twitch in his lips that threatened to curve in a smile. Five faces suppressed the laughter only until she caught her mis-spoken words.

Laughter, hearty and long, followed as the tension in the room dissolved in fits of laughter, as it was as we swayed, arm-in-arm, remembering--the good, the bad and the hilarious--

And now alone, I think of perhaps the only wrong phrase, at least for me, that she ever insisted was law. Perhaps, she was right, but never for her daughter, the multi-published, award-winning author who needs to promote herself to sell her books. What would she say knowing about the Erotic Romantic Suspense titles written by me?

Perhaps there is a way to brag without boasting, is that what she meant? Be proud but not too proud? Be verbal, interesting, social, outgoing, be discovered by your talent, not what you say on your own behalf. If only it was possible to ask her for clarification, if only she had lingered as long as her phrases have. If only she had stayed until I had my first book published--then maybe it would have been different. Maybe then she would have said,"You deserve to be proud and brag," perhaps...
(This post sprung from an exercise in the book The 3 A.M. Epiphany. The use of I was permitted but only twice and it had to be a first person narrative.)

~Cricket Sawyer

Welcome To Melodee's World

Things are still crazy here!

Getting ready for the holidays and all is taking its toll. No, I'm not done shopping yet. Actually, I haven't even started yet.

I think we're going to end up with a ton of lights around the place. On the house, on the several outbuildings, in the trees, on the fences, you name it. If the dog holds still too long, he'll end up with lights on him, too. And I'll probably need to buy a medium sized nuclear power plant to run it all.

Anyone know where I can get a good used Geiger counter?


I promised a little more about the plans for collaboration with another author, and I have some more news for you.

The author is a new face to the world of erotica romance and her name is Cindy Aadams. While new to this genre, she's far from a newbie to the publishing world. I think you're going to like her fresh spin to stories and her enthusiasm as well.

I know that I love it!

Keep your eyes open for more to come!

I've received a number of letters from readers anxious for the next installment to the Flights of Fancy series, and all I can say is that it's coming! The pending title is As Darkness Falls and it has a few surprises inside. That's where the delay is coming in...I'm working on getting the last chapter perfect and I've rewritten it about nine times now...

Hello, my name is Melodee and I'm obsessive-compulsive.

With any reasonable amount of luck, I hope to finish it today. Yes, today. Remember, you heard it here first!

And speaking of finishing anything, I better make another cup of tea and get to work!

Keep Loving!

Melodee Aaron, Erotica Romance Author

Home Page

Melodee's Books at BookStrand
Melodee's Books at Fictionwise
Inquisitor Betrayer

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Author Discovery - Silapa Jarun!

SAMURAI'S FORBIDDEN LOVE: KATANA DUET by Silapa Jarun (new-to-me author):

Aki and Akeno are twin brothers, mirror samurai who are finding it difficult to assimilate to the American ways. Helping them along on their journey are the mysterious, and small-town siblings, Konrad and Klara who are renting out a room to the brothers as the twins try to save up enough money to make it on their own.

Aki, an ambitious medical student assists Konrad in his makeshift lab as the American works feverishly to find the answers behind and a cure to his younger sister's respiratory illness. But like the relationship between Aki and Akeno, the brother and sister's relationship is one fraught with intrigue and prohibition.

Aki is the older twin and, driven by a past incident where he was unable to defend his brother from the predators of their homeland back in Japan, he spends his days now trying to protect Akeno, the seemingly more submissive and "weak" twin from his own naiveté and the world at large.

KATANA DUET is a unique and enthrallingly executed story, one of intrigue, forbidden love, familial betrayal and loyalty that comes to an explosive and surprising climax and will leave the reader reflective if not totally staggered. This is the kind of story and characters that sneak up on and stay with the reader, haunting her long after the last page is read. The subject matter is definitely not for the squeamish or readers of delicate sensibilities, but it is well-worth the time and risk to experience Aki and Akeno's world.


12 months and Which is Your Lucky One?

Claire, the Mudflat fortuneteller is back! Claire is the heroine of the Mudflat urban fantasy series. If you want to see more of her predictions, or read a synopsis or chapter of a Mudflat book, go to

Based on the hour of your birth, what months are luckiest for you? Check it out!

Midnight to 2 AM: Need to smooth out relationships with your lover? Or maybe with your children? Two months after your birthdate adds luck. Four months after your birthdate is good for improving all kinds of partnerships. And the month of your birth? You communicate well with anyone, especially siblings.

2 to 4 AM: Money problems? You handle money better than most people and in your birth month, your luck runs high. Two months after your birthdate adds luck to your homelife and you find ways to upgrade your nest. Four months after your birthdate may be the time to think health, start a new diet, add exercise?

4 to 6 AM: In your birth month you shine, look your best, attract others. Two months later can bring good news from friends or family or maybe a surprise message? Four months after your birthdate should brighten your love life or bring a better relationship with a child.

6 to 8 AM: Your birth month is lucky for close friendships and should create good memories. Two months after your birthdate can help expand income. Four months after your birthdate is good for improving your homelife, relationships with family and maybe your home itself.

8 to 10 AM: Two months after your birthdate adds luck to self improvement, so go for that new hairstyle. Four months after your birthdate is good for straightening out confused messages. And the month of your birth? Great for making new friends, or maybe you’ll meet someone new and special.

10 to Noon: Two months after your birthdate adds luck to some secret area of your life. Four months after your birthdate is good for improving your money situation. And the month of your birth? This could be a lucky time to look for a new job, if that’s what you want.

Noon to 2 PM: Two months after your birthdate adds luck to making new friends, and could this extend to your love life? Four months after your birthdate is good for improving health, you know, the diet and exercise thing. And the month of your birth? You always love to travel, right? Bon voyage!

2 to 4 PM: Two months after your birthdate might bring a career change for the better. Four months after your birthdate you could be making some fun new friendships, maybe give a party. And the month of your birth? Financial pressures could start to ease up.

4 to 6 PM: Two months after your birthdate can find you traveling or planning a trip. Four months after your birthdate is good for widening your circle of friends, maybe doing some entertaining. And the month of your birth? Time to give a little more time to your significant other.

6 to 8 PM: Two months after your birthdate could bring an invitation or a surprise or something else nice, and someone else is paying. Four months after your birthdate adds energy to career improvement. And the month of your birth? Stay healthy, take care of yourself, and do what’s best for you.

8 to 10 PM: Romance often lights your birthday month. And if you party too much, two months later is a good time to start a new diet or exercise plan, anything that improves your health. Four months after your birthdate you may want to take your mind or yourself on a trip to someplace new.

10 to Midnight: Two months after your birthdate can see an improvement in your finances and we all need that. Four months after your birthdate someone else is picking up the tab, even if it’s only for lunch. And the month of your birth? Do what you like best and enjoy the comforts of your home.