Nano? Oh, no!

The November page of my calendar has DO NOT EVEN THINK OF DOING NANO written in big black letters. But did I listen? No, of course not. But this year I am trying something different.

If you read Chris Baty's first book, the original concept was to sit down on November 1st and write until you hit 50,000 words. No plotting, no prep...just write. Clearly things have changed since then.Today's Nano participant approaches it very differently. There are numerous books and workshops on how to prepare for November. By October 31st, we are allowed to have outlines, lists of scenes, a synopsis and any number of planning tools.

I joined a local Nano group and have gotten many suggestions for how to survive the month. They even have a solution of sorts to my particular problem. You see, I do well until Thanksgiving when we have week long house guests from out of state. Some suggested "reverse nano" which is a fascinating concept. You start writing on day one and write 3346 words. Then as the month goes on, you write fewer and fewer words. I like the idea but I am still not sure I can write 3000+ words a day for a couple of weeks.

So, my goal is 50,000 words. I will use every suggestion from the group that I can. I do wish I had known earlier so more planning could be done before November 1st. But winner or not, one thing I do know is that I will have more words toward a new novel than I had when I started.

See you in December.

Fall in Love With New England!

This weekend I'll at the Fall in Love with New England Reader event in Manchester, New Hampshire. I'm excited to meet everyone and talk about books we love.

Our first gathering is an apple social.Although I'm no culinary genius I do manage to cook up something good once in a while, like my apple pie baby s.If you like them too, here's the recipe:

Ingredients 1 package sugar cookie mix 1 egg 1/2 cup butter, melted 3/4 of can of apple pie filling 2 tbs brown sugar ground cinnamon to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Butter a 8 x 8 in baking dish. In a mixing bowl, combine sugar cookie mix, egg and melted butter. Mix and set aside 1cup.

Press the rest of the dough into bottom of pan. Spread apple pie filling over it.Take reserved cup of dough and break up into small pieces.Sprinkle on top of filling.

Combine brown sugar and ground cinnamon. Sprinkle on top of dough. Bake for 30 minutes or until edges are brown and dough is cooked through. Depending on your oven this could take longer!

If desired, serve with ice cream!

Six of the Best Blog Hop:An Excerpt

 

Hi all! My offering for the Six of the Best blog hop is from my recently released novella, After Midnight.

~~~~~~~~~ The choice between staying in on a Saturday night to clean and going to see Cheyenne at his first real gig hadn’t been a complicated decision. He was a world-class rocker who could play the guitar like a fiend and had a voice that made you feel…everything. Or made you horny. And fuck if she didn’t love him. Damn incubus. She reached across him and caressed Jewell’s side. Jewell’s eyes opened and she stared expressionless at the ceiling, hyper-alert to danger. It always took a few moments after resurrecting for her to remember where she was and who was with her, but since moving into their new home it seemed to take even longer. Ria sighed. She’d do anything if it would help Jewell feel safe enough to die each dawn and awaken peacefully. “All is well, Babydoll. It’s just me. Time to rise and twinkle with the stars.” “Already?” Jewell scrunched her eyes and blinked as if trying to focus them. Cheyenne lay his head on the soft swell of Jewell’s belly. “Didn’t we just go to bed?” Ria kissed his back and licked a slow trail down his spine. “Hours ago. Did we tucker out the poor little sex demon?” “Not hardly, dead girl.” She grabbed a fistful of his hair and turned him to face her. “That’s undead girl, thank you.” She bit his lower lip and let it drag between her teeth. “Show us what you’ve got left.”

After Midnight can be purchased at http://amzn.to/2dEOt59

~~

You can find Trevann online at: www.trevannrogers.com www.facebook.com/trevannr www.pinterest.com/trevannr Twitter: @TrevannRogers ~~

Where It Begins: Writing a Prequel

At first glance it would seem that writing a prequel would be easy. After all, the outcome is known. The problem is how much and what needs to be included to tell the story. After Midnight, prequel to House of the Rising Son, had a particular problem. Cheyenne is introduced in HOTRS as a single father of two children. You, the reader, asked who and where were their mothers.

Of course I know. I have the backstory. I know why the children are with him. But I presenting their mothers, Ria and Jewel, as women/vampires who love their children AND care for Cheyenne was tricky. They didn't easily give up the kids. They made the tough decision to part with their children as a matter of safety. The children's safety.

Obviously After Midnight was not a book that would have a Happily Ever After ending. But a Happy For Now between Ria and Jewell was necessary. So the story ended at a moment of joy for them.

It was an interesting novella to write. I hope it supplies some answers to readers and perhaps raises questions about when and where the moms reappear. As for the actual transfer of the children to Cheyenne, that story will come. When they make their next appearance Ria and Jewell will tell us.

After Midnight is available on Amazon. 

Cover Reveal: After Midnight-Prequel to House of the Rising Son

I’m excited to share the cover of my new novella, After Midnight, prequel to House of the Rising Son. It answers the question Who gave birth to Cheyenne’s children? 

Back Cover Blurb

Improbable love. Impossible life. Immeasurable danger.

Jewell’s stepfather thinks she’s worthless. She agrees. When she looks in the mirror she sees an overweight, overemotional, overeating mess who can’t keep her fangs to herself.

Ria hails from a family of old world vamps who'd be happy to share their wealth with her, if only she’d fall in line. Fat chance, especially since being in that line includes not being gay.

Being in love is easy for Ria and Jewell—the young vampires belong together like vodka and tomato juice. Adding Cheyenne, a talented and sexy incubus, to their union is the hot sauce in their Bloody Mary. The only problem? Vampires and incubi are mortal enemies.

Despite the odds Ria, Jewell and Cheyenne find their way to happiness. But Jewell is hiding a huge secret, one that defies the laws of procreation: She’s going to have a baby.

While she tries to figure out how to break the unbelievable news to her lovers, a horror from Jewell’s past slithers into her present, forcing choices no one should have to make.

Will it be love or death? Happiness or safety? She has until dawn to decide...and it's already After Midnight.

~~~~~~~~

Excerpt

The choice between staying in on a Saturday night to clean and going to see Cheyenne at his first real gig hadn’t been a complicated decision. He was a world-class rocker who could play the guitar like a fiend and had a voice that made you feel…everything. Or made you horny. And damn if she didn’t love him. Damn incubus.

She reached across him and caressed Jewell’s side. Jewell’s eyes opened and she stared expressionless at the ceiling, hyper-alert to danger. It always took a few moments after resurrecting for her to remember where she was and who was with her, but since moving into their new home it seemed to take even longer.

Ria sighed. She’d do anything if it would help Jewell feel safe enough to die each dawn and awaken peacefully. “All is well, Babydoll. It’s just me. Time to rise and twinkle with the stars.”

“Already?” Jewell scrunched her eyes and blinked as if trying to focus them.

Cheyenne lay his head on the soft swell of Jewell’s belly. “Didn’t we just go to bed?”

Ria kissed his back and licked a slow trail down his spine. “Hours ago. Did we tucker out the poor little sex demon?”

“Not hardly, dead girl.”

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and turned him to face her. “That’s undead girl, thank you.” She bit his lower lip and let it drag between her teeth. “Show us what you’ve got left.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

After Midnight will be available on Amazon on October 3.

Dress Up, Dress Down with Marie Dry

Happy Friday! Let's welcome Marie Dry to the LAM Blog today, talking about her book, ALIEN BETRAYED. ********************************

NAKED ALIENS AND CLOTHES DOING DOUBLE DUTY

I thought it was really amusing, doing a blog about my characters clothes. Why? Because mostly I forget to put clothes on them. I literally have to go in afterwards and make sure they’re not running around naked. In the process I learned a lot about the function clothes serves in a story.

The first editor at Black Opal Books who worked on Alien Mine thought the Aliens in the Zyrgin Warriors series walked around naked. I was shocked that she could miss the wonderful description of their uniforms, loaded with weapons that became the size of pennies when placed in their pockets. Then I went searching for the specific paragraph where I described it. It wasn’t there! I had to go in and put clothes on them. I was mortified, this was my first book to be published and I did something so careless. The worst part was that I could see their clothes so clearly and knew the function they served and it only happened in my mind. And I managed to forget to put it down on the manuscript.  I knew from the beginning that their clothes were made of some really strong material with some amazing properties, allowing them to simply step out of their shoes without using laces and their uniforms were developed to withstand most weapons. I wanted their clothes to juxtapose their primitive joy in battling with swords. To illustrate that this was a culture with advanced technology even though they come across as rather primitive in their ideas.

After that I went and checked a contemporary I’ve been fiddling with and yip, no clothes. Once again the heroine’s clothes were clear in my mind, but not on the page. She’s a rather frumpy dresser and much more interested in developing her mind than her fashion sense. To make matters worse, her way of looking at herself and what she wear through the book, illustrate her acceptance of herself as a beautiful woman by the end of the book. Or it would have if I’d just taken the time to really describe her clothes. Since I made the changes and ensured that the clothes mirrored her development the story has improved.

What I learned from this was that clothes can illustrate aspects of the character, they can show the technological stage of development of a civilization or poverty or riches, it can illustrate the characters jobs or lack of jobs. In other words, clothes has their own job to do in a story. They can also do absolutely nothing if the author, namely me, don’t use it as a tool.

Mary Buckham wrote an excellent craft book. Active Settings by Mary Buckham. I cannot recommend this enough. She has examples that illustrate what I tried to say above. Here is a link to amazon to her book. A Writer's Guide to Active Setting

Thank you for inviting me to write for your blog. I’m off to make sure my Gargoyle is wearing clothes and not running around Cape Town naked.

More about Marie

All her life Marie Dry has read romances and was fairly young when she decided she would travel the world and write the perfect story that had all the elements she looked for in a romance. In 2007 after living in Morocco for four years and back in South Africa, she shared a pizza with a friend and promised to go all out with her writing and to work at getting published. In 2014 her first book was published by Black Opal Books. Two more books has since been published and a fourth contracted.

There are several wonderful moments in her life that she would never trade for anything. One of them is meeting President Nelson Mandela and the second being published.

www.mariedry.com

Marie's Amazon Page

Find Marie on Goodreads

BOOK BLURB

ALIEN BETRAYED

In a bleak and apocalyptic future, where the Zyrgin Warriors are getting ready to conquer Earth, Marcie is sent to infiltrate the alien stronghold in the Rocky Mountains, only to be betrayed by her own people. Instead of stealing the alien’s technology and accomplishing her mission of causing mayhem and destruction among them, she is captured by Larz, an arrogant alien, who wreaks havoc with her heart when he insists that she will be his woman. Still, he may no longer want her when he discovers her secrets…ones she doesn’t even know she has.

EXCEPT: CHAPTER 1

Larz clasped the training sword with both hands and swung it in a wide arc around his head, conquering his favourite patch of the Rocky Mountains.This was the closest a Zyrgin warrior came to the human emotion of joy. The sword fit his hand like an extra limb. His body moving with strength and fluidity gifted to him by generations of the strongest blood on Zyrgin. Still swinging, he moved the sword to his left and then his right hand, increasing his speed until his movements became a blur.

Every day after his warrior duties, he came to this rocky patch on the mountain.Practiced to ensure he was worthy and ready for the day the leader of all Zyrgin territories would give him his sword of honor. That was the moment all warriors lived for. When their leader, who they called The Zyrgin, gifted them with a sword that would respond to the touch of a certain warrior only. Warriors from a strong bloodline, and some warriors born stronger,received swords that, with the aid of technology, could be made to shrink to nearly invisible size. To the enemy, it looked as if they disappeared and appeared as if by magic.

Many warriors used their cloaking technology to make it seem as if they had received such a sword from The Zyrgin. Larz knew he’d never have to resort to such measures. He was from The Zyrgin’s bloodline, descended from the strongest Zyrgin that ever ruled.

Larz lunged sideways then stepped back, performing the sequence of the warrior conquering with his sword with ease. Instinctively compensating for the uneven boulder strewn patch he stood on. Though his movements were swift and smooth, as a warrior’s should be, today he performed without his usual fierce concentration.

Worry for his human occupied his mind. Months ago, shortly before his second change, he claimed Marcie as his breeder after they rescued her from a raider camp. Everyone else called her a loud, mean woman with ugly red hair. Not a day went by without one of the warriors offering to kill her or bring him a better human. When he looked at her, he saw his breeder. A woman he’d never give up.

If he claimed her after he went through his third change, it might mean he had to give up his need to do battle in their wars, to serve on the Zyrgin homeland. The friend of Natalie and Julia, Sarah had disappeared more than a year ago and it had taken many months to find her in a raider camp. She had been starved and bruised and told them Marcie was responsible for many of the things that happened to her in that camp. They may have rescued Marcie from a raider camp, but they were certain she was sent to infiltrate them. Her attitude made her very unpopular. Shortly after they brought her to their guesthouse, she’d tried to hurt Sarah and Sarah had been moved to live with Natalie. Larz had to go through his third change soon, or he might not be able to claim her.

From the time the first Zyrgin ruled, millions of centuries ago, Zyrgin warriors were not allowed to claim a breeder before their third change. It was a strange knowing each warrior carried within. Larz turned and decapitated an imaginary enemy behind him. His third change was months away, and he needed to claim Marcie before she got herself killed.

He stumbled and compensated for the uneven rock beneath his boots. Adding challenge to his workout, he closed his eyes. A warrior who owned a foul-mouthed human had to be prepared for anything.

This barren patch of the alien planet he was born on, this little piece of earth, always drew him. On the hard rock, where no trees grew and no reintroduced wildlife ventured, he was reminded of his home planet. Out here, with the exotic earth sun shining down on him, he could think about claiming a strangely compelling woman with a mean mouth and ugly red hair. Make plans for keeping her safe from the consequences of her actions.

Zorlof, his brother, ran up to him, his pre-second change body small, but stronger than that of a human male. Their doctor couldn’t explain why he took so much longer than Larz to go through his second change, but all indications were that he would be very strong once it did happen. Zyrgin warriors were born with the knowledge of battle, with strength in their small bodies. With each change their knowledge and strength grew. In Zorlof’s case, he suspected that strength and knowledge might be much stronger in him than the average warrior. Even taking into account their strong bloodline, Zorlof was taller and stronger than any pre-second change warrior born for centuries.

Zorlof easily leaped over a few boulders and increased his speed until he skidded to a halt in front of Larz.

“Marcie tried to kill Zanr to get to Sarah. She screamed she’d kill Sarah the whole time,” Zorlof said.

The mountain blurred around Larz and noise rang in his ears. Like their ship’s klaxon, instead of danger to the ship, it heralded danger to his human. Larz sank down on his knees and leaned his head on his sword. “That human will drive me to Solarian drink.”

If she had simply gone after Zanr, they would’ve laughed at the idea of a human woman trying to overcome a Zyrgin warrior. No warrior would give an attack from a human woman any serious attention, beyond ensuring she didn’t hurt herself. Threatening the Zyrgin’s breeder? Larz might not be able to save her.

His time was up. He had to choose between Marcie and being a warrior and probably his life. Give up everything that defined him to save that female who had no concept of honor. He didn’t understand her mean nature and why she hated Sarah this much? If she was sent to infiltrate them, wouldn’t it make more sense to befriend them?

Larz closed his eyes and prayed for patience. Would the woman never stop putting herself in danger? When he claimed her, he’d make sure she understood that such behavior would have severe consequences for her. Ever since they rescued Marcie from the raider camps six months ago, she’d angered every human and Zyrgin who came into contact with her.

Dress Up Dress Down with Abbey MacMunn

Today we're joined by Abbey MacMunn, who is here to talk about characters from her debut release. Welcome to LAM, Abbey! ***************

Hello, my name is Abbey MacMunn and I write paranormal/fantasy romance. Today I’d like to talk about my debut paranormal romance, TOUCHED.

My main character, Cami Wilson, hates being cold, so naturally the story takes place during a winter month in England – sub-zero temperatures, biting winds, and a magical blizzard thrown in for good measure. When Joseph Carlisle first meets her, she’s wearing a thick winter coat and fur-lined boots – “all padded coat, messy hair and innocence” is how he describes her.

Cami prefers to wear casual clothes: jeans or leggings, topped with a baggy jumper two sizes too big to hide her bum, which she thinks is too big—Joseph thinks it’s the peachiest arse he’s ever seen.

Joseph is an immortal guardian – he doesn’t feel the cold. His attire is casual too: faded black T-shirt and worn jeans.

Here’s a scene from Touched, written from Joseph’s point of view. 

A few minutes later Cami returned, dressed as though embarking on an Arctic expedition instead of a stroll around the Manor. The black leggings were gone, replaced with dark blue jeans—a bit of a shame since he kind of liked those skin-tight leggings. But he had to smile at the enormous padded coat and fur-lined boots, complete with gloves, a woolly hat and a ridiculously long scarf wrapped three times around her neck. The whole ensemble made her look twice the size, and three times as charming.

She frowned. ‘What?’

‘You warm enough?’

Frown turned to grin as she glanced down at her clothes. ‘I don’t like being cold.’ She untangled her long hair from under her scarf before going over to Nana to kiss her cheek. ‘Won’t be long, Nana. Love you.’

‘Love you too, darling, and don’t hurry on my account.’ Nana lowered her voice but Joseph still heard her whisper, ‘He likes you just the way you are, Bridget.’

Cami laughed, clearly sharing a private joke they thought he wouldn’t understand.

‘You ready?’ He didn’t let on he knew what movie she’d quoted. ‘We should get an hour or so before the sun goes down.’

‘Great, let’s go,’

Joseph held the door open to the corridor.

Nana flapped her arms. ‘Hurry up you two, you’re letting in the draft. I swear penguins would be at home out there.’

‘Bye, Nana,’ he said, chuckling. Once they were alone he couldn’t help making a comment. ‘You and Nana have a thing for rom-coms do you, like Bridget Jones’s Diary?’

She looked surprised. ‘You heard that?’

‘Yeah, Nana’s whisper was kind of loud, even without the immortal hearing,’

‘Sorry, subtlety is not one of Nana’s strong points,’

‘So you’re a bit of a romantic at heart?’

‘I don’t know. I could be…’ She blushed and headed down the stairs. ‘With the right kind of guy.’

‘And what kind is that?’

Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. ‘I think you know what kind,’

His pulse rate quickened, and so did his footsteps as he followed behind her.

TOUCHED is available now.

Amazon.com

Amazon UK

Smashwords

Apple

Kobo

Nook

Blurb:

When inquisitive antique dealer Cami Wilson learns she’s the revered offspring of an immortal mother and a mortal father, it’s not just her hybrid status that has her all flustered. The title comes with her very own super-sexy guardian.

Jaded immortal Joseph Carlisle has only one thing on his mind; his sworn duty to protect the hybrid from those who wish her harm. Anything else would be complicated. That is until they meet.

Chemistry sizzles between them but there’s a problem—the hybrid’s curse. Cami’s touch, skin to skin, proves near fatal to her and all immortals, Joseph included.

But the fated lovers discover her curse is the least of their concerns when a friend’s deadly betrayal threatens to tear them apart forever.

Dress Up Dress Down with Rachel Leigh Smith

Please join me in welcoming Rachel Leigh Smith to the LAM blog! ~~~~~~

My Name Is A’yen is set in the far distant future, after humanity has spread through the stars and encountered another species, the Lokmane. Out of fear, humanity enslaved them and so succeeded in wiping out the past that the Lokmane don’t believe there was ever a time they were free and had a home.

A’yen, the main character, also believes this. As a slave, and a male of his species, he can’t afford to dream like that. Humans are afraid of him due to his size and strength. Lokmane men always top six feet in height, and they’re telepathic. Though most of them aren’t able to use it.

He’s not a big fan of clothes. Neither are the other Lokmane males. Starting at the age of 18 and broken up into three sets, they’re covered with metallic ink tattoos to provide humans with an easy way of controlling them. Because of how their bodies process electromagnetic energy, the tattoos, called markings, are torture to endure. Both having it done, and living with it.

Unfortunately, going around half-naked is dangerous for a Lokmane male. A’yen prefers wearing cotton shorts and soft t-shirts when he has to get dressed. In his ideal world, he never has to wear a shirt. He’s not fond of shoes either, since one of the marking sets covers the tops of his feet.

His heroine, Fae Hart, is an archaeologist. She’s almost always in cargo pants, boots, and loose, breathable shirts. Since he’s helping her on her dig, and they’re on an unexplored planet, he’s wearing the same things. Much to his dismay.

A’yen has lived most of his life in pain, so his clothing choices are designed to lessen it as much as possible. It’s something I have personal experience with, unfortunately.

The excerpt I’ve chosen is one where he’s stripped down to go swimming. And he can’t help thinking about Fae. Though at this point in the story, he doesn’t really like her.

Bio: Rachel Leigh Smith was swept off her feet at the age of six by Magnum, P.I., then again at nine by Frank Hardy. She remembers her favorite romance novels by the hero’s name, so of course she writes romance for the hero lover. She lives in central Louisiana with her family, a half-crazed calico, a ginger tabby lion, and a menagerie of book boyfriends.

www.rachelleighsmith.com www.facebook.com/rachelleighsmithauthor www.instagram.com/rlsauthor www.pinterest.com/rachelleighgeek www.goodreads.com/author/show/8425584.Rachel_Leigh_Smith

Blurb:

They've taken everything from him. Except his name.

The Loks Mé have been slaves for so long, freedom is a distant myth A'yen Mesu no longer believes. A year in holding, because of his master's murder, has sucked the life from him. Archaeologist Farran Hart buys him to protect her on an expedition to the Rim, the last unexplored quadrant of the galaxy.

Farran believes the Loks Mé once lived on the Rim and is determined to prove it. And win A'yen's trust. But she's a breeder's daughter and can't be trusted.

Hidden rooms, information caches, and messages from a long-dead king change A'yen's mind about her importance. When she's threatened, he offers himself in exchange, and lands on the Breeders Association's radar. The truth must be told. Even if it costs him his heart.

Excerpt:

He kicked back again, eyes closed, and Dr. Hart’s face filled his mind. For the first time, he didn’t shove it away. Instead, he ignored the fact she owned him. Still couldn’t bring himself to think of her as mistress. To him, the word was intimate, symbolic of a relationship they didn’t have. Without doubt she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. In a playful, impish sort of way. Her nickname fit.

What would it be like to kiss her? He didn’t shove that thought aside either. Full lips begged to be teased, tasted to their fullest. Her green eyes, almost too big for her face, captivated him. Whether he was ready to voice it or not. So deep, almost mysterious. Glossy black hair with just the right amount of wave. How would it feel on his skin?

A physical attraction like this wasn’t unusual for him, or the other Loks Mé men he’d talked to over the years. Fantasizing was safe. No one got hurt this way. It was acting on it that broke hearts and families.

Which meant he needed to stop it now before the urge to act on it became a need and ruined everything. He’d acted on his attraction to Tala without getting to know her first. Not a mistake he needed to repeat with someone he was likely stuck with for the rest of his life.

On the other hand, Mother was right. He had to let her in, show her he wasn’t a smart-ass all the time, that he could accept her authority. If he didn’t give a little and show her he could be obedient and respectful, she’d never give him even an inch of freedom. He’d spend the rest of the journey locked in their quarters, bored out of his skull. Not be allowed to explore the planet where he’d tasted the closest thing to total freedom any Loks Mé had ever known.

Before he could change her expectations, first he had to meet them.

Easier said than done.

Dress Up Dress Down with Ava Cuvay

Please join me in welcoming "out of this world" romance author, Ava Cuvay to the LAM Blog! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi! Thanks for letting me come chat about the importance of attire in my upcoming book Love and the Corps. My character’s choice of clothing in this book, and in specific scenes, was particularly fun to write because it helped to complement/contradict my characters.

My heroine, Captain Jo Behsue of the Corps, has a large scar across her face and a strong, sturdy body (thick in all the right places). Rumor has is she is 90% dude, and she has never bothered to prove the rumors wrong. Because she is career military, her clothing choices center around her Corps-issue, boxy, sexless uniforms. She finds the prospect of having to wear a delicate satin evening gown more terrifying than being inserted in the middle of battle with only her fists as weapons. While her uniforms intrigue my hero—is she a plentiful handful or a sweet little mouthful? —the sight of her womanly charms beautifully displayed in a gown sets his passion aflame.

By contrast to his love interest, Lux Krotah of the Klorakian mercenary army—like all his kind—is tall, lithe, and silver, with a beauty nearly effeminate in nature (except for his muscles!). Where the Corps is a blunt, brute-force type of military operation, their girly Klorakian counterparts embody grace in all things, from their physical features to their combat tactics to their architecture and clothing. So, while Jo must wear a gown to the royal ball, the Klorakian ceremonial formal dress is… a skirt. A kilt of iridescent scarves covering just enough of Lux to make Jo’s mouth water.

In Love and the Corps, I enjoyed dressing my characters to contradict stereotype, while trying to keep them sexy in the eyes of the one person who matters: Their Happily-Ever-After. At the very least, I get to have an alien character dressed in a sexy kilt!

Love and the Corps Snippet

Two harried hours later, Jo eased her way through the palace corridors. The quiet halls echoed the soft patter of her sandals—dainty, strappy sandals which were the epitome of femininity, but at least their heels were flat. Her steps were careful, cautious. She attempted a slow, gliding gate, unnerved by how her unsupported breasts swayed and jostled within the bodice of her dress. If she was overly cavalier with her movements, her breasts might escape their delicate confines.

Only one layer of luxurious satin rested between her naked body and disaster.

K’Ahla and the servant girls had transformed Captain Jo Behsue of the Corps into a creature she did not recognize. They had crafted a flowing, watery gown from satin sheets purchased but never used by the former dictator—Jo appreciated the subtle insult to his failed legacy—and swept her thick hair upon her head in a simple chignon she could never replicate. They applied enough make-up for her eyes and her lips to catapult off her face and diva-slap her scar until it faded to obscurity. Jo had stared at her reflection, wondering who the lovely woman was on its surface. Tendrils of dark hair curled at her nape and temple. The dress revealed enough of her olive skin to tempt without putting her on vulgar display. The bodice fell gracefully from one shoulder, over her full breasts, and cinched at her waist. The skirt cascaded to the floor and, as she walked, the hem fluttered like her own ethereal cloud of blue. With each step, the side slits allowed a long, muscular leg to peek through before ducking shyly behind the folds of the fabric.

Jo had to admit K’Ahla and the other women had accomplished the impossible. She was beautiful.

As she made her way to Lux’s room, eager to see his reaction to her transformation, she tried not to ruin their miracle with unnecessary movement. She was accustomed to clomping around in fatigues and boots, giving no regard to how her hair looked or how she moved her body. One wrong turn or a carelessly placed foot could ruin all their hard work.

She turned the corner and saw his door was ajar. Her heart hammered in her chest, her inner soldier immediately at arms. Had someone entered and killed him? Had the despot brother achieved revenge without raising a single alarm? She tiptoed through the opening, her hand at her thigh where her knife was strapped. Even for such a formal occasion as tonight’s ceremony, she was not about to go completely unarmed. Though what she saw next did a damn good job of it.

Lux was alone. And alive. And naked but for a skirt of wispy scarves held low on his waist by an intricate, gem-studded silver belt. A wide collar of matching gems glittered at his neck. What was left was a long, wide expanse of smooth, silvery skin filled to rippling with sleek muscles. Muscles she’d explored with her hands several times. Muscles which could kill in a flash, yet had made her body sing so divinely. Her mouth watered and her body heated. She’d never seen a man in a skirt before, and knew many planets where such a sight was a death wish. Had anyone asked her opinion before this moment, she would have assumed the clothing choice would render the man effeminate.

The vision before her was anything but.

Lux was all man, and one hundred percent sexy. Like Klorakian architecture, he was a perfect meld of power and elegance, fluid grace and fierce strength. He leaned back against the wall, an arm slung casually over his head, the other resting on the exposed thigh of a leg propped against the wall at his back for support. The pose was both relaxed and seductive, an upright version of how he might look in bed after lovemaking. What would it be like to kneel before him, part the scarves like a curtain, and take him into her mouth?

Fire burst in her nerve endings at the thought.

Ava’s Bio:

Ava Cuvay writes out of this world romance featuring sassy heroines, often-alien-but-always-sexy heroes, and an alcoholic beverage or two... Set in a galaxy far, far away. Think "Star Wars" meets "Firefly", without Jar-Jar Binks, and with a lot more heat.

She resides in central Indiana with a hubby who makes her laugh and kiddos who are growing up way too quickly. She enjoys the world of wine and spirits, amusement park thrill rides, and laughing at her own foibles (yeah, she laughs a lot).

She believes life is too short to surround yourself with negative people, and Han Solo shot first. When not writing, Ava is thinking about writing. Or wine. And she’s always thinking about bacon.

Look for “Love and the Corps” Book two of The Heart Nebula Series. To be published by the end of the month!

www.AvaCuvay.com

Ava Cuvay Amazon Author Page

Dress Up Dress Down with Kryssie Fortune

Please join me in welcoming Kryssie Fortune, to tell us about the uniforms in her latest novel, Dominated by the Dragon. A 1960’s Solder Turned Ageless Dragon Shifter.

Like Captain America, Flynn, the hero in my latest novel – Dominated By The Dragon, got caught up in a top secret, military experiment. Rather than turn him into a superhero, it burned a dragon demon into his soul. He’s never aged, but he can’t put down roots, what with the mad scientists who want to vivisect him and all.

Before the experiment that changed him, he was a Captain in the 1960’s British army. The uniform was issued free of charge, but as an officer Flynn would have needed to buy his own belt, boots and cap.

His uniform consisted of a khaki jacket worn over a rough fabric shirt and a knitted tie. He’d wear that over straight legged khaki trousers that chafed his skin, combat boots – highly polished, and well broken in of course. Just look at the heavy stitching around the sole.

Proud to serve Queen and country, Flynn led a special squad. One that was occasionally called the freak show. The men in it were always that bit smarter, stronger and faster. That meant his peaked cap carried his unit’s ensignia – a Spartan helmet. They’d adopted it because the Spartan’s were the first super soldiers.

Noting else about his uniform, not even the spread of the jacket buttons or the design of his belt buckle showed people how special he and his men were.

His uniform epaulets showed his rank. The broad end was stitched to the shoulder then buttoned down at the narrow end. The three diamond shaped pips indicated his rank.

To become a captain, men usually had a minimum of five years’ service and a university degree. Flynn had neither, but as a natural leader, he commanded respect from “the other freaks like himself.”

He planned to train as a vet after he left the service. Instead the army turned him into an animal / demon hybrid and taught him how it felt to be on the wrong side of their vivisection experiments.

If you want to know more about Flynn and how his new life panned out, please check out my latest novel.

Buy links

Luminosity             http://luminositypublishing.com/product/dominated-by-the-dragon/

Amazon US               http://amzn.to/2agfoFI

All Romance           http://bit.ly/29ZkMei

Blurb

A former super soldier turned dragon demon must choose between his soul mate and saving the world from a nuclear winter.

The British army’s nuclear testing bonded a dragon into Flynn Hemsworth’s soul. Military scientists vivisected and tortured him until he escaped two years later. Although he’s never aged, he’s been alone and on the run for almost six decades. When he prevents a naked woman from being the prize lot in a coven’s slave auction, he realizes she has an unexplored submissive streak.

Hope Mathews—a sassy blonde with killer keyboard skills—is a strong independent woman. When Flynn prevents her being sold to a demon, she discovers she enjoys spankings and light bondage. Together Hope and Flynn must shut down a coven of black magicians, rescue kidnapped demons, and stop a black ops nuclear missile hitting the UK. Even if they manage all that, Hope’s the granddaughter of a billionaire while Flynn’s still on the run from the military who want to dissect him again. Can they find common ground and build a life together?

Reader Advisory: Contains explicit language, a virginal heroine who discovers she enjoys spanking and bondage. Add in some serious dragon demon loving, light the blue touch paper, stand back, and watch the sparks fly. PUBLISHER NOTE: Paranormal BDSM Romance – 63,094 words. BDSM, Exhibitionism, Orgies and Spanking.

Dress Up, Dress Down with Nicole Evelina

Please join me in welcoming multi-award-winning writer Nicole Evelina, as she presents to us the story of an unconventional woman, Victoria Woodhull. Victoria Woodhull – Clothing as Rebellion in late 19^th Century America

My latest historical fiction novel, Madame Presidentess, is about Victoria Woodhull, the first woman to run for President in the United States. Not only that, she was also the first woman to run a stock brokerage on Wall

Street (co-owned with her sister, Tennie), the first to testify before a sitting committee of Congress and one of the first to run a weekly newspaper (also with Tennie).

Given that, you may be wondering why clothes would matter in this novel. Well, Victoria was also what they called at the time a “sex radical” – that is, is she believed in the concept of Free Love. To her, the term meant that a marriage should begin when two people fell in love and end when they are no longer in love, without interference from the government. (It was difficult to get a divorce in 19^th century America; in many states, the only way you could do so was by proving adultery.)

It is likely that Victoria was introduced to the Free Love movement by her second husband, Col. James Blood. As a member, she wore her hair short (at least for the time), adopted a more masculine form of dress (without the bustles and corsets common at the time) in protest of the sexual inequality between men and women.

Her sister, Tennie, joined her in this movement. On the day they first opened their Wall Street brokerage, they purposefully adopted a more masculine outfits, wearing instead of corsets and bustles, deep blue jackets embroidered with rich velvet which were broad at the shoulders, but tapered to contoured curves at the waist, over matching skirts that reached only to the tops of their shoes. That, too, was a carefully planned statement, designed to draw attention and remind onlookers that while they were too modest to show their ankles like common whores, they also were no ordinary women. They wore no ruffles, jewelry or makeup that would define them as overtly feminine, choosing for their only accessories bow ties made of silk.

Another day, Victoria is said to have shown off an outfit she wanted to wear when she was President. She shocked her friends, at least one of whom was a reporter for the New York Sun, by changing into dark blue pants that ended at the knee and were buckled over light blue stockings. On the top she wore a dark blue tunic with a man’s collar and cravat. The following exchange is said to have taken place between her and the reporter.

“This,” Victoria declared, “is what I intend to wear in the streets of New York, and at my banking house on Broad Street.”

“Mrs. Woodhull, if you appear on the street in that dress, the police will arrest you,” the reporter replied.

“No, they won’t. When I am ready to make my appearance in this dress, no police will touch me.”

And as far as records show, she was right, though it’s uncertain if she ever appeared in that particular getup in public. Victoria did later find herself in jail, but the reason had nothing to do with her clothing and everything to do with her unwillingness to keep quiet in the face of injustice and coddle those in power.

By using what she wore as an expression of what she believed, Victoria was making a strong statement of non-conformity to her time. Even when she didn’t wear outfits that we overly aligned with the sex radicals, she preferred to avoid corsets and wore no jewelry, only a white rose at her throat, which would become her trademark.  So as you read Madame Presidentess, try not to picture her as a typical 19^th century woman. Her hair was short, her clothes unconventional and voice loud. She was not one to be silenced then and its time her name is in the history books now.

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Madame Presidentess

Forty-eight years before women were granted the right to vote, one woman dared to run for President of the United States, yet her name has been virtually written out of the history books.

Rising from the shame of an abusive childhood, Victoria Woodhull, the daughter of a con-man and a religious zealot, vows to follow her destiny, one the spirits say will lead her out of poverty to “become ruler of her people.”

But the road to glory is far from easy. A nightmarish marriage teaches Victoria that women are stronger and deserve far more credit than society gives. Eschewing the conventions of her day, she strikes out on her own to improve herself and the lot of American women.

Over the next several years, she sets into motion plans that shatter the old boys club of Wall Street and defile even the sanctity of the halls of Congress. But it’s not just her ambition that threatens men of wealth and privilege; when she announces her candidacy for President in the 1872 election, they realize she may well usurp the power they’ve so long fought to protect.

Those who support her laud “Notorious Victoria” as a gifted spiritualist medium and healer, a talented financial mind, a fresh voice in the suffrage movement, and the radical idealist needed to move the nation forward. But those who dislike her see a dangerous force who is too willing to speak out when women are expected to be quiet. Ultimately, “Mrs. Satan’s” radical views on women’s rights, equality of the sexes, free love and the role of politics in private affairs collide with her tumultuous personal life to endanger all she has built and change how she is viewed by future generations.

This is the story of one woman who was ahead of her time – a woman who would make waves even in the 21^st century – but who dared to speak out and challenge the conventions of post-Civil War America, setting a precedent that is still followed by female politicians today.

 More about Nicole

Nicole Evelina is a multi-award-winning historical fiction and romantic comedy writer. Her most recent novel, Madame Presidentess, a historical novel about Victoria Woodhull, America's first female Presidential candidate, was the first place winner in the Women’s US History category of the 2015 Chaucer Awards for Historical Fiction.

Her debut novel, Daughter of Destiny, the first book of an Arthurian legend trilogy that tells Guinevere’s life story from her point of view, was named Book of the Year by Chanticleer Reviews, took the Grand Prize in the 2015 Chatelaine Awards for Women’s Fiction/Romance, won a Gold Medal in the fantasy category in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards and was short-listed for the Chaucer Award for Historical Fiction.  Been Searching for You, her contemporary romantic comedy, won the 2015 Romance Writers of America (RWA) Great Expectations and Golden Rose contests.

Nicole’s writing has appeared in The Huffington Post, Curve Magazine and numerous historical publications. She is one of only six authors who completed a week-long writing intensive taught by #1 New York Times bestselling author Deborah Harkness. As an armchair historian, Nicole researches her books extensively, consulting with biographers, historical societies and traveling to locations when possible. For example, she traveled to England twice to research the Guinevere’s Tale trilogy, where she consulted with internationally acclaimed author and historian Geoffrey Ashe, as well as Arthurian/Glastonbury expert Jaime George, the man who helped Marion Zimmer Bradley research The Mists of Avalon.

Nicole is a member of and book reviewer for The Historical Novel Society, and Sirens (a group supporting female fantasy authors), as well as a member of the Historical Writers of America, Women’s Fiction Writers Association, Romance Writers of America, the St. Louis Writer’s Guild, Women Writing the West, Broad Universe (promoting women in fantasy, science fiction and horror), Alliance of Independent Authors, the Independent Book Publishers Association and the Midwest Publisher’s Association.

Her website is http://nicoleevelina.com.

She can be reached online at:

• https://twitter.com/NicoleEvelina
• http://www.goodreads.com/nicoleevelina
• http://pinterest.com/nicoleevelina/
• https://www.facebook.com/nicoleevelinapage/
• http://instagram.com/nicoleevelina
• http://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyi5-knSn0Abm5ujfpcHgbg/videos?view_as=public

Binge Watching #Stranger Things: A #Review

I never seem to have time to watch a show while it's playing in real time. Consequently, I occasionally fall victim to binge watching. My latest is the Netflix series, Stranger Things. I saw the trailers and meant to watch but—no surprise here—I forgot. That is, until my nephew connected with me to tell me his opinion. He said the acting is good, the cinematography and music are “leaps and bounds ahead of other shows”, and the story is so good each episode feels like a movie. Since we tend to like similar things, I knew I had to try it. I watched the first episode and was hooked. I didn’t stop until I’d devoured the entire season.

My nephew was right. It was a beautiful show with gorgeous camera work and music that set a mood so well it was as if I was in the scene with the characters. But reflecting on the experience, I think if I’d I watched one episode each week I may have gotten bored and wandered off like I have with so many other shows—Beauty and the Beast, Legends of Tomorrow, Haven, to name a few.

On the surface, Stranger Things seemed to have huge flaws. Too many one dimensional adult characters—the doctor, the government agents, the police, the ex-husband. Most of the acting was so over the top it verged on parody—including Winona Ryder, who I’ve respected for years.The teenage drama storyline would have been hard to watch if it had dominated any episode. And at various places I thought, “Oh they're redoing Species, or ET,” or now that I think about it, any number of sci-fi tropes we’ve seen hundreds of times.

Worse, some of the twists and turns were illogical. For instance, the main character, Mike Wheeler (played by Finn Wolfhard) turns on the young girl (the one he’s risking a lot to help) for protecting him. Who does that? Or poor Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) a character so gratingly negative I kept wishing the monster would get him. Thankfully we had Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) who was completely adorable and softened my reaction to the others.

Another clear bright spot in the show was young Eleven, played by Millie Bobbie Brown. Her expressive face (and acting chops that belie her age) made me care about her despite the plodding backstory that was explicitly designed to make her sympathetic. I also connected to Jonathan (Ryder’s oldest on, played perfectly by Charlie Heaton). These two, along with Gaten, are the reasons I watched episode after episode. I plan to watch the show again to figure out how they brought these young protagonists to life and what hooks kept me glued to my seat for eight hours.

Eight hours? Remind me to never admit that again.