You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September 2009.
As you may have noticed, I haven’t been doing a whole lot of blogging this month. And the reason for that is time – I could use alot more of it. In a moment of sheer insanity (possibly more than one) I managed to contract three stories, all due to the editors by the end of September. As of tonight, they are all in and one is even through edits. The second, I just recieved the edits on and the third I just sent in. So, I have a release in a Charity Anthology releasing November 27th, a Christmas short that will be out on December 5th, and the fourth book in the Stargazeres Series which will be released on December 11th. I have made a note in very large letters on my journal, never to do this again. **sigh** But, I probably will. These all sounded like such good ideas at the time, and to be honest I enjoyed every single moment I spent with my laptop.
Happy Reading!
Anne kane
Please help me welcome Anida Adler, who is very excited about her first release from Loose-Id. The Ancient is a hot paranormal Celtic Romance that I’m sure you don’t want to miss. In keeping with the Irish theme of her story, Anida will be giving away a Shannon O’Shamrock bear to one randomly drawn commenter from the tour, so don’t be shy. Leave a comment and hope for the luck of the Irish to win you the bear! I think he’s hiding somewhere further on down the page.
Happy Reading!
Anne Kane
Sex (Yawn) – The Challenge of Keeping it Fresh
Erotica writer. Hmmm. The image that sprang to my mind when I thought of these esoteric beings years ago was something like Barbara Cartland, but sexy. Someone mysterious, who wafted pheromones like cheap perfume wherever she went. I pictured men falling for her magic like bowling pins, poster boys for gym advertisements with the brains of rocket scientists turning to mush when she appeared. She’d open her front door every night, perhaps settle a manicured, red-nailed finger on her cherry lips as she perused the crowd of slavering devotees. Then she’d pick one to warm her bed and bid the others farewell.
When the acceptance of a few short stories by romance markets came like a heavy hand tapping on my shoulder, pointing out the obvious, I balked. Romance? Me? Good lord, I live in jeans and tee shirts. I owned three pairs of shoes at the time: hiking boots for when it was cold, sandals for when it was hot, and slippers for when I was in my pink flannel sheep-print pyjamas. I like to keep my nails really short, and I don’t wear make-up. Romance writer? Nah. Forget it.
Yet when I read articles about what romance writers are, I felt a kick of recognition. As author, I am fascinated with the interaction between people, and that’s essentially what romance is: a study of the development of a relationship. Reluctantly, I went to the library and sidled to the groaning shelf of pink books. Laden with a stack of Mills & Boon contemporary romances, red-faced, I did what needed to be done at the counter and scuttled home.
Six hours later, I was a changed woman. Not only were there damn well written books in my pile, I enjoyed them immensely. And hey, I had to admit that sweet romance didn’t really do it for me. I wanted sex. Lots of it. Over the next few months I devoured piles and piles of the pink books, but one day, I reached saturation point with shocking abruptness. I wanted something different.
About a month after opening my first romance, I had started writing in the genre as well. The words poured from me in a gushing stream, I couldn’t type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. I turned to e-books and discovered a fantastic world of romance there, different from Mills & Boon books. While they vehemently deny that there is a formula their authors have to stick to, to me it seems there is indeed a certain sameness to novels sold by probably the most prolific publisher in the world.
My mind opened so wide my brain almost fell out. Threesomes, gay love scenes, BDSM: there was something fascinating about all of it, and as reader, I couldn’t get enough. I read and read and read… and then a point came where something new in the sex department wasn’t enough to redeem a flawed book any more. I became more and more difficult to please, until now I think I’ve become quite ruthless in reviews. Books – all of them – have to be well written to have any chance of keeping my interest.
As author, the challenge of writing sex scenes came as a shock. It’s really, really difficult to write erotica. Because when you come down to it, sex is…well, it’s just sex. There’s only so much you can do with two (or three, or four) bodies, only so many positions and kinks you can indulge in. The wonderful openness we have achieved as a society means that little is left unexplored.
What are we to do, then? What would I say is the thing that keeps me reading when I open a book?
To answer this question, I need to explain a theory I have. I read an old romance once, and it was so incredibly bad I couldn’t get through more than three chapters. The poor reputation romance novels had – and still have in some circles – did not happen arbitrarily. If that novel was anything to go by, these books sucked so much they could form their own black hole.
But society changed. People became less embarrassed about their choices. The image of the average romance reader was shown not to be a frustrated housewife but an educated, successful, happy woman. And with a more sophisticated readership came demand for a better quality erotica. Yes, we want sex, as kinky as you can get without being disgusting. And we want lots of it. But now the average erotic novel needs to be as well written, as riveting in terms of plot development and character description as any other book.
Sex is indeed just sex. But if it’s an act of passion taking place between characters written with enough skill to make them as real as your next breath, in a story that has you by the throat, on the edge of your seat, unable to put it down… that’s when sex becomes more than sex. That’s when it becomes something special.
And that, my friends, is what every erotica writer should aspire to deliver.
Blurb:
What would you do if you fell in love with the goddess of death?
June 1945 – Tadhg Daniels sees a woman clad in strange clothes and a feathered cloak, but she’s invisible to everyone else. He’s convinced his mind has been unhinged by the horrors of the D-day landings four days before, but when she appears to him again, the woman proves she is real. She is Morrigan, goddess of death, come to warn him his life is about to end.
Morrigan is disturbed by the man she meets. He looks in her eyes unflinching, while all others avoid her gaze. She’s never found such a strong will to survive in any of her charges before. He refuses to accept he’s going to die.
There is a way for Tadhg to cheat death, a secret Morrigan has guarded for millennia. Morrigan can save him if she takes him as her lover, but sex with the goddess of death will change him. He needs time to decide if he’s prepared to give up his humanity in order to be with her forever.
But Tadhg is not the only one who knows Morrigan’s secret. Someone else wants to take by force the gift she can bestow. And he’ll stop at nothing to get it.
Excerpt 2:
“Look above you.” He searched the ceiling. “No, I mean at the bedstead.”
Tadhg shuffled his elbow under him and studied the ornate wrought-iron metalwork. For a moment, he didn’t know what she meant, then he saw the chains and blanched. He turned to Morrigán. “No. The shackles in that poem were a metaphor, Morrigán. I don’t do that sort of thing.” Except in his fantasies, but he’d die if she discovered that.
“I’m not asking you to. The shackles are not to bring pleasure to either of us, it is for my protection.”
He frowned and sat up. “Your protection? What the hell kind of man do you think I am?”
“I’m sure you’re very honourable. I told you, the change you’ll go through will be difficult. Just because I’m immortal doesn’t mean I can’t hurt and bleed.”
Tadhg felt cold dread trickle from his scalp down his neck and over his shoulders. What was he letting himself in for? He remembered the panicked feeling of his lungs filling with blood, the horror of his airway blocked. He lay back, stretched out his arms. Then he closed his eyes and slipped his wrists into the old-fashioned shackles hanging from chains on the bedstead. Every muscle in his body was tense as a bowstring.
He heard the rustle of fabric as she came closer, felt the dip of the mattress as she knelt beside him, making the sheet slide over his skin with a tantalising brush. For a moment, he wanted to snatch his arms from the shackles, but he forced himself to keep still as Morrigán closed first one, then the other bond, slipping the pins that held them fast.
The sound sent a rush of blood to his cock.
Love is Lovelier the Second Time Around
By Fantasy Author Sandy Lender
http://www.authorsandylender.com
Anne asked if I had different “feelings” with the release of my second novel, CHOICES MEANT FOR KINGS, than I did with the first, Choices Meant for Gods. You know…for a while…I did. Sure, I was excited, but the level of excitement differed at first. I was pleased with the cover. I was pleased with the editing. I was pleased with the reviews coming in. I wasn’t going to have a shipment of the books in time for a conference where I was speaking so my publisher arranged for me to have the proof copy to take with me to show folks. On my way to pick up that proof copy, I got this strange, topsy-turvy feeling in my stomach like the feeling I got when I saw the boxes on my front porch when Choices Meant for Gods first arrived back in the spring of 2007. Yes, there was that truly excited feeling…
I think I went into the CHOICES MEANT FOR KINGS release knowing more about the energy, time, and money required for promotion and marketing, so the excitement was there…but so was that “wisdom.” The release of a novel means tons o’ work for an author, if you want to see that novel do well and hear the publisher ask for another. I felt a little overwhelmed, wondering if I was ready for the whirlwind.
The whirlwind o’ promotion is here and I’m lovin’ it. I may be tired (a lot) but these characters and their stories are worth every ounce of it. So the feelings…I think the feelings are lovelier the second time around!
“Some days, you just want the dragon to win.”
BLURB:
Chariss is in danger. Her geasa is hampered by the effects of a friend’s marriage. The dashing Nigel Taiman hides something from her, yet demands she stay at his family’s estate where he and her wizard guardian intend to keep her safe. But the sorcerer Lord Drake and Julette The Betrayer know she’s there, and their monstrous army marches that way.
When prophecies stack up to threaten an arrogant deity, Chariss must choose between the dragon that courts her and the ostracized kings of the Southlands for help. Evil stalks her at every turn and madness creeps over the goddess who guides her. Can an orphan-turned-Protector resist the dark side of her heritage? Or will she sacrifice all to keep her god-charge safe?
EXCERPT:
A Tense Little Excerpt From Choices Meant for Kings
By Fantasy Author Sandy Lender
http://www.authorsandylender.com
You won’t find this excerpt anywhere except Sandy’s current online book tour…
As the soldier stepped toward him, Nigel reached out his arm and caught him by the neck. He slammed the captain against the far wall. He pinned him there with his body, leaning against the man as if he could crush the wind from him with his presence.
He brought his face close to the soldier’s ear and spoke lowly, fiercely, so that no one could have overheard him. The menace and intent behind the words was as surprising to the captain as the words themselves.
“I asked you to accompany [Chariss] on this journey tomorrow because I have faith in your sword, and until this moment I trusted you to keep your distance from her. Now, I find her down here at your side with a look upon your face that suggests more than you realize. So help me, Naegling, the only thing that stays my hand is how displeased she would be if she learned that I sliced you open.”
“The look you see is merely my concern for her honor. Nothing more.”
“I’m not a fool. And I’ll use every last piece of Arcana’s treasury to pay the prophets to justify my reasons for marrying that woman, so you can unconcern yourself with her honor.”
Hrazon stepped off the staircase then and saw Nigel pressed against his guard.
“I still believe you’re one of the best soldiers Arcana’s ever seen,” Nigel continued, “and I want you at her side for this journey, but, so help me, Naegling, she comes back alive and well and not confused in the least about her affections for me, or I will string you up from a tree in the orchard and attach your intestines to your horse’s saddle before I send it—”
Hrazon cleared his throat. “Excuse me. Is there an issue here I should address?”
My new release, Seducing Destiny, is being released Friday September 11th and I’m blogging that day over at Jeanne St James about how the story came to be. Check it out, and comment for a chance to win. I’ll be selecting one lucky person from all those that comment to receive a free PDF copy of the book.
Series: Sex and Chocolate
Title: Seducing Destiny
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-253-1
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Paranormal
Themes: Werewolves
Release Date: September 11, 2009
Author: Anne Kane http://www.AnneKane.com
Publisher Changeling Press – Erotic Fiction
BLURB:
Jack, the alpha of the North Rockies pack, knows Destiny needs some time to come to grips with her werewolf heritage before he springs the whole mated for life thing on her.
Destiny has no intention of buying into the whole pack mentality, howl at the full moon thing. Sure, she practically drools at the sight of red meat, but that’s no reason to give up her comfortable life. Besides, she already has a boyfriend, a slick up-and-coming lawyer.
But when a band of rogue werewolves move into the area, Jack can’t afford to have his attention divided. He needs to convince Destiny that she belongs both in his pack and in his bed so he can concentrate on the new threat
EXCERPT:
“I don’t think you’ll need those just yet, darling.”
Destiny whirled around to find Jack lounging against the doorjamb, a suggestive smile curving the corner of his mouth. His gloriously naked body showed exactly what he had in mind, and he didn’t bother to hide the engorged shaft. He straightened up and sauntered into her bedroom as if he belonged there.
She jerked her gaze back up to his face. Her heart started pounding at the lustful look he swept down her naked figure. She knew she should throw him out. Now. Before her treacherous body talked her into doing something she shouldn’t. She opened her mouth. “You shouldn’t be here.” She winced. Even to her own ears, that sounded lame.
“No, we should be back in the meadow, making love on a soft bed of grass with the spring sunshine warming our naked flesh.” He reached out and ran a finger down her naked arm in a gentle caress. “But you ran away.”
Destiny jerked backward, the skin on her arm tingling where he’d touched it. “No!”
His eyes darkened to a stormy blue and he grasped her wrist in a firm grip. “You want me, whether you’re willing to admit it or not.” He pulled her up tight against his deliciously male body. “Time’s up, Destiny. I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”
Destiny could feel the tension in his taut muscles, the impatience. Although she would never admit it to him, her psychic connection to him was strong. His urgency vibrated through her, heightening her own barely contained lust. She watched his lids droop, concealing his expression while his lips swooped down to devour hers in a kiss that seared away all her reservations.
Lust washed through her, quieting the little voice in her head. She didn’t have to make a lifetime commitment here, she rationalized. He wanted to fuck her. She wanted him to fuck her. Simple.
She opened her lips to let his tongue invade her mouth. Sizzling hot darts of pure lust danced down her spine when he took immediate advantage, his tongue sweeping in to taste, to tease, demanding her surrender. She gave it, melting passively into his muscular embrace. The kiss softened slightly, and he ran his tongue down the side of hers, exploring. He slid his hands down her back to hold her butt with his large palms, kneading the plump cheeks.
Destiny moaned, her own hands placed palm-flat on his muscular chest. She could feel the thump-thump of his heart, beating strong. Smooth, firm skin belied the years she knew he carried. He had to be at least sixty, and yet he had the physique of a man a third his age. He’d make a wonderful husband, if not for one inescapable fact.
He was a werewolf.
He swept her up and tossed her onto the bed, following her down to straddle her with his massive thighs. Destiny licked her lips, watching
his rigid shaft bobbing gently above her belly.
She had to admit there were some enjoyable points to being a werewolf. The males all looked great in the buff, and weren’t shy about parading around nude, which was a good thing, because their clothing didn’t shift with them. They often found themselves in human form miles from their wardrobe.
“Still planning on denying you want me?” Lust swirled in his gorgeous blue eyes.
Destiny shook her head slowly from side to side. “I never denied I wanted you.” Her voice came out a husky whisper. “As a lover.” She wanted to feel his rough hands on her skin, his hard body pressing against hers, his warm breath on her naked flesh.
Jack captured her chin in one hand and held her still, his expression somber. “This isn’t a one-night stand, Destiny. Wolves mate forever.” He lowered himself to savage her lips in a kiss that shattered her will to resist.
She returned the kiss with everything she had. Her body moved of its own accord, arching up against him, burning with want, with need. For now, she didn’t care about life-mates or packs or the fact that he was the Alpha. All she cared about was the desire burning through every nerve in her body.
Jack’s skilled hands traced the curve of her breast, the line of her hips. He stopped to toy with her dimpled navel, his palm splayed across her belly. A path of liquid fire burned across her skin as he trailed kisses from her mouth to her ear, then nibbled his way down to her throat, his warm breath feathering across the sensitive hollow.
Destiny gasped, dazed by the depth of her response. She opened her eyes to stare into his. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered.
He smiled, a predatory display of sharp, white teeth. “I’m courting you.” He swept a stray lock of hair off her face. “Seducing you.” He scored his teeth across one sensitive nipple. “Persuading you.”
