80K the Hard Way: Day Three
Okay, Day Three and I’m already behind but I had a really, really good reason. I’m not going to discuss it in extreme detail here because, frankly, it was pretty disgusting. Let us just say that access to a bathroom was required for the bulk of the day and I feel positively empty at the moment.
That being said, note that I DID get some wordage in, so there.
Anyway, today’s stats:
Started With: 5,714 words
Wrote: 636 words
Total word count: 6,350 words
What else did you do today, Nicola: Cleaned up the downstairs bathroom because, yeah, it was sort of necessary.
Writing Tips: Even if you don’t hit your daily word quota, it’s cool. Some words are better than no words at all. If you only write 500 words a day, that’s 15,000 words give or take in a month, and 91,000 words in half a year. Hell, at that rate you could churn out two books a year, which is nothing to sneeze at. So sit down and toss some words into your story, even if all you add is a sentence or two. You’ll be glad you did.
Marvelous Monday Reads: The Furnace Man
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, petals! Today I’m here with Raven McAllan, writing as Kera Faire, and her smouldering new dark romance The Furnace Man (Death Isle 1), now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, ma’am!
Hi all, Raven chatting.
It’s so lovely to be here, and talking about The Furnace Man, the latest book by Kera Faire, my dark side.
I’m very lucky having two author sides of me, as I can indulge what I like doing best—creating stories with a happy ever after—in so many different ways. I just swap hats so to speak. It might not work for everyone, but it does for me.
This series, Dark Isle, is darker than my Raven stories. Mainly set around an island on Loch Lomond, in Scotland, The Furnace Man takes a bit of a new track, by starting in a glass works in Yorkshire. I just happened to go to the grand opening of a new furnace, and got chatting. The Furnace Man is the result.
Of course we end up on Dark Isle…also known aptly as Death Isle, an island in Loch Lomond, which is handy as it is not that far from where I live. Good excuse to procrastinate and well, enjoy the scenery. A flask of coffee, a g-f biscuit or three and my lap top. Perfect. Well I hope so.
Happy reading
love Raven/Kera
Don’t piss off the furnace man.
It might be a standing joke around the glass factory—he’ll mix you with the sand and burn you, leaving nothing left to discover—but Lindsey Earnshaw is about to find out the truth behind it.
Placed there to spy on the place on behalf of the government, a warning message brings forth not only a dead body, but also the one man she’s never forgotten.
Michael Hoult cannot believe his eyes, when his ex-wife turns out to be the receptionist on duty. Having to drug her in order to not blow his cover will not earn him her renewed submission, neither will whisking her away to the Death Isle.
Duty first, though. It cost him his marriage all those years ago, but with Lindsey now working for the same side, can they not only catch a killer, but also rediscover each other?
Story Excerpt
“Nice now, safe word or suck me off.” He waited as she gulped and hesitated. She swayed towards him and straightened. Many people didn’t involve sex in their play; he and Lindsey always had and that was how he wanted it to be now. However, he remembered oral was something she’d never been keen on and eventually said it was a soft limit. It had never changed and nor had she gone down on him more than a few times, and never ever swallowed his cum. Not something he’d ever encountered before or indeed after Lindsey. She’d tried and after gagging and throwing up, had said swallowing was a big fat red no-no. He’d accepted it, but had missed that special closeness only being jerked off by your partner could bring. But Lindsey was his lady, his sub, he had loved her—still did—and her pleasure came first.
Perhaps it was unfair to throw her into this scenario so quickly, but he knew his pet. She could go round the houses for ever. He intended to show her he would not be fazed or upset by her limits whatever.
“Pet, you need to tell me where you are in this. Safe word.” He rapped his demands out. “Now.”
“Green to lick,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear. “I hope.” She took his cock in between her hands and delicately licked the head.
His pre-cum leaked fast and furious and she drew back and looked at it.
Typical. The one time I could do with it taking its time it comes like the clappers.
“It’s fine,” she said with awe in her voice. “Green.” She took more of his length in her mouth and began to nibble and suck.
He saw stars as the tug and pull became stronger. God almighty, did she know the affect she was having on him? He was going to come if she didn’t slow down or pull back.
“Pet, enough, I’m about to shoot.” Michael tugged her hair, hard enough to make her release him. Or so he hoped.
“Lindsey. Pet, stop now.” Did he sound Dom-like enough? It was bloody hard when half of him would like no more than to fuck her mouth until he filled it with cum, and watched the excess run down her cheeks. But he didn’t truly want to. Not yet. Baby steps.
His command evidently got to her because she moved her mouth from his with a gentle plop. The confusion and hurt in her eyes hit him. “Pet, baby steps,” he said softly as he helped her to her feet. “I would happily fill your mouth and fuck it. But, not today. We have so much more to explore and hopefully have a lifetime to do everything in.” Would she understand without him getting too graphic? “I want to fuck your sweet pussy. Fill you that way. Relearn how you sigh and how well our bodies mesh. Make you scream as you come. Shudder and shake for me. Show you how much I love you, have never stopped loving you, and want this to be our happy ever after.”
Lindsey sighed and her eyes became misty. “Sir, My Michael, oh yes. I feel the same. You are mine. My lover, my friend and my Sir. I want it all as well.”
“First then.” Michael paused, tugged off her cardigan and threw it onto the floor. That’s better. Now…” He unzipped her jeans so he could run one finger around her pantie leg. “Firstly, I want you naked so I can spank your sweet ass until it’s the rosy color of that cushion over there.” He slid her panties and jeans down her legs and helped her step out of them. “I want to see my hand print and know that outline shows you are mine. Arms up.” Her t-shirt followed the cardigan. “Stand still, just like that with your arms up. Don’t lower them.”
Michael waited as she did as he demanded, grabbed her ass hard to keep her in place and lowered his lips to the lacy cups of her bra.
And sucked hard.
Lindsey bucked. “Oh grief oh my, oh hell…Oh god, green bloody green.”
He took that as a good sign, let go of her nipples and ignored her moan as he blew on each hard nub in turn. Deftly he unclipped her bra and flung it in the direction of the rest of her clothes. Now he wished he’d taken her to the playroom. He knew no one was playing in it and he had a cupboard full of delicious things he could use on her. All still new and in their packets. Here, he’d have to be innovative and make do.
At least he had his hands. Michael unclenched his fingers and watched her pupils dilate as he smacked her ass a couple of times. “What color are clothes pegs?” he asked casually. “Specifically on your breasts, nipples and ass.”
“Clo… Pegs?” Her voice rose to a high-pitched squeak. “Pegs on my…oh my…” She blinked. “Can you?”
Michael smiled. “Oh yes. But maybe not yet?”
She nodded. “Perhaps not. I need to rediscover pain, I reckon. Let’s say yellow.”
“Then maybe we should start.” He pondered for a moment. “Here, I think.” He sat on the nearest chair and pulled her to lie over his lap, head to one side, legs to the other. “Color, pet?”
He could visualize her rolling her eyes at him for being so insistent. However she answered him readily, and politely. “Green, Sir.”
“Then, pet, count. Ten on each side and then I’m going to fuck your wet and willing pussy.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said fervently.
Michael laughed as he raised his hand. He hit her right buttock firmly and then rubbed away the sting as she gasped.
“O…One.”
“Good girl.” He repeated the actions on the other globe. By six on each side Lindsey was writhing and he opened his legs enough to reach between them and pinch her clit hard. “No coming or I’ll stop now.”
“Eh?” She sounded dazed. “F…flip, no…no. Don’t stop.”
“Then behave.”
Where to Buy
Evernight | Amazon UK | Amazon US
About the Author
Raven/Kera lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she’s strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.
Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.
Website | Blog | Facebook Personal Page | Facebook Author Page | Twitter
80K the Hard Way: Day Two
Well, this turned out to be a day where I pretty much shuttled between Uncertainty Principle and Shifter Woods: Howl when I wasn’t vacuuming, food shopping, or turfing the damn cats off my lap. The one pictured above is particularly determined and will jump onto the table where I put my laptop when I’m not working in order to sneak a paw onto my lap desk. I push it off, and she’ll wait a moment before sneaking it back on. If I don’t push it off (because I’m, you know, working), she’ll take that as a sign to try and climb on either the lap desk or me. She did get cuddles and scritches today because I’m not a complete monster, but man, she would live ON me if it was at all possible.
About the book — Evie gets back to quarters early and finds Ben packing an overnight bag. He has to go off base to accompany a team that’s picking up scavenged goods from one of their regular suppliers. She’s a little worried because she knows that he’s having nightmares, but has no idea how to broach the subject because he keeps telling her he’s fine. Plus she’s just been seconded to Project Rubicon and is learning stuff that is curling her hair a little bit, but she can’t discuss it with Ben because he’s not cleared for that level of security. There’s a reason why I called this one Uncertainty Principle, you know. There might be also be a sex scene at the end of this chapter, I’m not sure yet.
Today’s stats:
Started With: 3,043 words
Wrote: 2,666 words
Total word count: 5,714 words
What else did you do today, Nicola: The usual cat chores, obtained the makings for Italian wedding soup, vacuumed the living room, dusted some picture frames, and edited Shifter Woods: Howl.
80K the Hard Way: Day One
Hello, lovelies, and welcome to April where I will be writing the first draft of Uncertainty Principle (Pacifica Rising 2) in one month. Yes, watch me shut off my internal editor and vomit words onto the page like a drunk in a Chicago bar on St. Patrick’s Day!
So far? I have a moody Ben, a distracted Evie, and Lilith having a discussion about what it means to be human. Because this is a romance, you know. Jesus, I can never do things the easy way.
Today’s stats:
Started With: 0 words
Wrote: 3,043 words
Total word count: 3,043 words
What else did you do today, Nicola: Much laundry, cat chores, stopped off for more wet food and some protein for me, and edited Shifter Woods: Howl before getting to work on this. Because yeah, I’m a masochist.
Writing Tips: Give yourself permission to write crap. Not every word that you write in the first draft will be gold. In fact, they’re going to be pretty shitty, with little glittering bits here and there that show promise. Think of it as digging clay out of a riverbank and slapping it into the general form of a person — the second/third/yadda yadda drafts are when you start carving everything into shape, adding stuff here and deleting stuff there. Sometimes deleting a lot of stuff there. Right now you’re not concerned with precision, or the perfect turn of phrase (although if you can manage those little glittering bits, please do so), or a gripping scene. You want shitty words that convey the general plotline of the story, and you want enough of them so that you make your word count. Do whatever you have to do to get them there — write a general outline that you’ll fill in later, skip ahead in the story, write something absolutely ridiculous that you know you’ll have to delete later but amuses you now. This is the time to get mud all over everything and build that castle.
Wicked Wednesday Reads: Fiery 10-16
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Which means it’s time to feature the muy talented Lea Bronsen and her smouldering (and I use that word deliberately) new romance Fiery 10-16, now available from Amazon and other online retailers of fine erotic romance. Enjoy!
Hi, and thank you for hosting my new dark romantic suspense!
Fiery 10-16 is a scorching firefighter story of desire, abuse, and bravery.
Runo Wiggins is a scarred man, the wounds etched into his psyche deeper than those on his skin. But he loves his job: fighting fires helps reenact his survival of a house fire as a teen, one that killed his mother and brutal stepfather.
Dawn Caravello is married to a psychotic drunk. She can take his beatings as long as he doesn’t touch their children, and she’ll do anything to put food on the table, even if it means stealing from the town hero.
When Runo meets the fiery Dawn, sparks fly. But he suspects she is victim of the same abuse as his mother was. As day turns to night, the past and the present blend in an exhausting, nerve-wrecking chase to prevent another death.
Story Excerpt
Dawn’s eyes shimmered with a mix of stubborn pride and extreme sadness. They seemed to be made of molten brown stone. Runo had never seen eyes like these. So vibrant, saying so many things. They revealed her life, her endurance, her dreams, her combats, her despair. And she was still so young.
While he stared, she leaned forward and kissed him, an act a whole lot more intimate than he was comfortable with. A short, hard peck, a statement. Not the tender gesture a kiss was supposed to be, but one telling him her gratitude as well as her dignity. She thanked him, but was going to go back to her life and continue fighting.
He stood shocked, his whole body rigid, didn’t know what to do. She, such a small woman thing a whole head shorter, shook him, a giant of muscle and stupid testosterones inside a hard shell.
He would definitely take care of Dawn and her kids. Any way possible. Alert the authorities and make sure they got the protection they desperately needed.
She stepped backward, her features softening, and turned on her heel.
Not so fast.
He cleared his throat and called, lifting a weak hand. “Hey, wait!” His heart hammered in his chest, blood pulsed in his ears.
She turned. “What?”
“Promise to be good. Promise it’s the last time you do it.”
“Do what?” Her eyes gleamed with humor. “Kiss you?” In the midst of this emotional turmoil, she found the strength to tease.
“Steal.”
And lie.
She pursed her lips, looking like a disappointed little girl. Maybe she still was a child inside. A child taking care of children. A child beaten savagely.
He swallowed. “Promise.”
After several long seconds, she nodded. But her gaze told a different truth.
Liar.
Where to Buy
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Print | Goodreads
About the Author
I like my reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and erotic dark/contemporary romance.
I love to hear from my readers! Write to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on:
Gracious, that was fast
Just found out that Degree of Resistance, Empress of Storms and Palace of Scoundrels have all been requested for review at Manic Readers, so hopefully that will generate some positive reviews and sales. The funny thing is that Empress still sells at least one copy almost every day, so that book definitely has legs. If I can get Palace and Degree to that stage, I’ll be the happiest smut writer this side of the Red River.
As if that wasn’t enough, I also had a wee epiphany this morning about the title of Pacifica Rising 2. The working (and probably permanent) title will be Uncertainty Principle, which refers to at least three different situations in the plot. Trust me, it’ll make sense once you read it. I’m finishing up the outlining now, and I’ll write it in April with a goal of a late May release. And yes, I’ll be doing a marathon follow-along here in the vein of 83K or Bust.
In other writing news, I’m thisclose to finishing the expanded shifter short story Shifter Woods: Howl which has now become a novella, bless its furry heart. Look for that to be released next week. Once I finish the companion piece Shifter Woods: Roar, I’ll combine them for a print version.
And while this has nothing to do with me, I was absolutely freaking delighted this morning to read that the lovely and talented Louis Herthum (aka he who inspired me to write Degree) has been signed as a regular cast member for the second season of Westworld. Considering that his character Peter Abernathy is now a walking thumb drive carrying 30 years of R&D on the androids, the writers can do some hella awesome stuff with that — Delos wants him for that R&D info and are willing to kill to get it, other companies want him for the same reason, and the androids want him because he carries the history of their race. Can’t wait!
In which Nicola decides to gird her loins for battle
*cranks up sound system and puts on “Eye of the Tiger”*
*warms up with some push-ups, finger exercises, and shadow boxing*
*cracks neck*
Oh, yeah.
That whine you hear in the background is me kicking the promo machine into fifth gear for both Palace of Scoundrels and Degree of Resistance. Ain’t nobody gonna do this for me but myself (and frankly I’m tired of sitting here wondering what the hell is going on), so I’m actively hunting down reviewers and utilizing opportunities to get the books in front of said reviewers. By the end of April, I want to see a significant upswing in sales because dammit, these books are good and readers will love them.
I have awesome friends
Because they listen to me when I’m moody as hell, let me vent to my little black heart’s content, and then I feel better and don’t throw tantrums on social media (because really, nobody needs to see that shit). Serious, L.D., you are a lifesaver.
In happier news, the severe thunderstorm systems that are currently sliding north of Plano are providing me with lots of pretty lightning and no real rain or hail to speak of, which is absolutely dandy with me (especially when I saw the pictures of the ping-pong ball-sized hail coming down five miles north of here). Springtime in Texas — gotta love it.
Okay, enough of that. Back to work on the shifter story.
Thoughts From a Writer’s Brain, #46
Subconscious: Heya.
Me: Hi.
SC: Sooooo … you’ve been getting kinda whiny on social media about your book sales. You know, nobody likes to be guilted into buying stuff.
Me: *sigh* Yes, I know. I won’t do that anymore. And I wasn’t trying to guilt people. I was just trying to get some word of mouth going.
SC: Really?
Me: Oh, bite me. I already feel bad about it. I’m just going to shut up and write more books. If I can.
SC: Melodramatic cliffhanger much?
Me: God, you’re a bitch.
SC: You should know. Okay, fine, why “if I can?”
Me: Because my damn laptop is over eight years old and my desktop is over nine years old. Both of them are failing, and I really need to buy new ones before they completely die on me.
SC: Tell me you’re backing up.
Me: Religiously and onto multiple devices. But backups aren’t going to be of any use if I don’t have hardware to run them on.
SC: So why didn’t you just say that your computers are crapping out and you need to buy new ones?
Me: Well, hell, Chuck Wendig just did something like that for his vet bills and people jumped all over his ass. And I’m no Chuck Wendig.
SC: Verily, that is true.
Me: Also, it didn’t occur to me.
SC: Jesus. You’re telling me that saying, “Hey, folks, my antique computers are on the verge of joining the choir eternal so please buy my books so that I can get new ones and keep writing” didn’t occur to you, but “Oh, jeez, my books aren’t selling, woe is me” did?
Me: Fuck you.
SC: Not anatomically possible but an amusing suggestion nonetheless. Why are you in such a bad mood, anyway?
Me: Because I’m cleaning. I hate cleaning. I always wind up drenched in sweat and covered in cat hair. But it has to be done.
SC: You could be writing–
Me: YES I KNOW THAT BUT WE LIVE WITH FIVE CATS AND RANDY TREES OUTSIDE AND I HAVE TO VACUUM IF I WANT TO CONTINUE BREATHING, OKAY?
SC: Yeesh. Okay. But you’re going to be taking breaks, right?
Me: Duh.
SC: Okay, then. You can work on one of your WIPs during your breaks. See? That was easy.
Me: I–you– *incoherent with rage*
SC: Do you want a new laptop and desktop?
Me: *grinds teeth and goes back to dusting*
Wicked Wednesday Reads: Seamus’s Mate
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Which means it’s time to feature the lovely Elyzabeth M. Valey and her hot new paranormal romance Seamus’s Mate (Alpha Protectors 2), now available from Evernight Publishing, Amazon and other online retailers of fine erotic romance. Enjoy!
Kaila is His. His Mate. Forever.
When Seamus discovers Kaila is in danger he sets out to save her. He couldn’t care less that she doesn’t want him there. His objective in life is to love and protect her. Besides, she might refuse to be with him, but her body knows better. With both their lives on the line, she can’t say no to his aid, can she?
For years, she has ignored her feelings. Kaila’s mission was supposed to be easy: enter the demon’s lair and save her sister. Then, he came along. For close to twenty years she has been fighting against the mating pull. She has avoided Seamus at all costs, but now they’re both trapped in hell and she has nowhere to run, except, maybe, into his arms.
Story Excerpt
“Wait up, Kaila.”
She didn’t acknowledge him, and he rushed to catch up with her. He grasped her wrist, spinning her around with force.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked.
Kaila’s gaze narrowed. Her lips pursed into an ugly grimace.
“Let go of me, Seamus. Why don’t you let this weak human die already?” She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
Seamus scrubbed a hand over his face. “What is wrong with you? You’re not making any sense. I know you didn’t ask for my help. I gave it freely, but you aren’t going to deny that we are different, are you?”
“Fuck you.”
Blinding rage took over him. Seamus dug his fingers into her arm. He was tired of all this nonsense. He pulled her closer. Her arm shot out to keep him away, but not fast enough. He swooped down and claimed her lips. She gasped, and he seized the chance to push his tongue into her warm recess. He groaned. She tasted better than he remembered. For a brief moment, she grappled with him, attempting to break lose, but he grabbed her arms with ease and held them behind her back.
He twisted his tongue around hers, drawing it out from its reluctance and forcing it to battle with his. Something in his chest tightened as she responded. Yes. He sucked and tugged and demanded more. She gave it to him. Her body arched against his, her mouth seeking his with almost as much desperation as he possessed. His hold on her slackened. He wanted to touch her everywhere. To press his lips to her body and taste every inch of her. His hand trailed to the curve of her ass, then to her waist. Then, bang! Her knee slammed against his leg. He released her, cursing. He’d probably be incapacitated for life if she’d hit her mark.
“Fuck you, Seamus.”
“Whenever you want, babe. I know you’ve got the hots for me, even if you just tried to castrate me and failed miserably.” He laughed.
Kaila spun and walked away from him again. She was probably not trying to be sultry, but her hips swayed in that way that drove a man to stare. She lifted her arm and gave him the finger. He grinned. She was pissed and sexy. He loved it.
Seamus took in a shaky breath. Watching her back on her feet, her spirit alive and surging, was soothing. He rubbed at the spot where she’d kneed him. It hurt, but it was proof that she was herself again, not lying in a puddle of blood, shredded to pieces by a monster. He glanced at the Dream Catcher’s skeleton out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t told Kaila the details of what he’d suffered inside the beast. The images of her dead body, broken, destroyed. He didn’t wish his worst enemy a fate like that.
He stretched his wings and snapped them back into place. Even they ached. He adjusted his now-flaccid cock and shuddered. He hurried after Kaila. The place appeared deserted. There were no scones in the wall giving off light. Instead, the walls themselves seemed to pulse with energy. They glowed from the inside as if behind them a relentless flame burned. He frowned. He extended his arm and placed his pinkie on the rock. It burned.
“Damn it.” He put the digit in his mouth, hoping to sooth the sting. “Don’t touch the walls, babe. They’re hot.”
Kaila didn’t reply, but she moved a little closer to the center of the path.
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Bookstrand
About the Author
Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after. From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.
When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.
Blog | Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest | Amazon
Nicola Cameron Writes 