Crymsyn Hart's Blog, page 21

Hey Everyone,

Come on over and check out Indie Book World's Big Giveaway running from Sept. 1st - Sept. 30th.

I'm giving away 2 - ebook copies of my very sexy Bigfoot and Alien crossover. Who doesn't love a big hairy man?

Come on over and check it out with all the other wonderful things being given away.

Hairy & Hung

Have you ever wondered what a day in a writer's life might be like?

Think it's all glitz and glammer with epic battles being fought out all the time within the writer's mind or them leaning back and just staring at the computer screen, nose to the keyboard and typing away...

Yea...

It's not really like that, at least not for me.

My husband gets up and takes care of our two dogs, Morrigaine and Cadence, and then Morrigaine comes back into the bedroom and snuggles with me until I have to get up and work for the day job doing whatever my sales guys need. Trust me Insurance is not exactly the most thrilling thing in the world, but it pays the bills. Back when I was in the corporate world I never wanted to work from home, but now that I do, I would take working back in an office a couple days a week just for a change of scenery.

My day job starts about 9 and between doing what I need to get done, my dogs come in to bug me for attention and play. So we play tug of war or I watch the two of them do it. I take out stuff to cook for dinner and sometimes start cooking early. The husband gets home around 6.

All the while I'm working the day job, my characters are vying for attention. Normally they start pulling at my brain and eating away at it pretty much when I sit down at the computer. They're a pain to push to the side. But they have to get used to it considering the day job pays the mortgage.

I normally stop working around 2 or 3 depending on how much work I have. I leave the office and crash on the couch with one of the two dogs or both climbing on top of me or just collapsing and using me for a pillow. Then I break out the other laptop and start working on whatever book or edits that are due.

The husband comes home, we eat, and I go back to writing. It's nothing fancy about my life. No glitz or glammer. I have my books and pets to keep me company during the day. Of course browsing the internet and talking with friends too, but I hope to get things done.

So you got a small window into my life. Not too exciting, I know. It would be nice to have more, but I'm not really one for drama unless it's my characters warring with one another and then those goes into epic battles.

Hello my name is Crymsyn and I am a psychic.

Phew...boy did that get a load off my chest.

Yes, you read that right. I am a psychic well to define it really, I am a clairvoyant empathic medium. What does all that mean? It means that I see stuff, feel stuff, and can talk to the dead.

Being psychic is not something I talk about very often, but it is what gives me the inspiration for many of my books. They say write what you know, so I do.

I create my characters based on experiences I have based on being Pagan and being a psychic among a few other things. I discovered I had abilities when I was twelve based on a friend of mine giving me her earrings to hold for some band thing at the time and I began telling her about her deceased aunt who I had never met or even knew she had. Of course, if I look back on it now, I realize that I was sensing and seeing things before that, but it was then I realized something was different.

By the age of sixteen, I had lived in three different houses that were haunted one by a little girl who loved to play. One where there were parties in the attic where there was no furniture and no people. An an entity who screamed at me a lot and felt the creepiness of the building. Another was my grandmother's house where something lurked in my closet, but don't they always lurk in the closet. I had a harrowing experience there where something grabbed my feet and something else grabbed my hands and I was being used as tug of war. My take on the whole thing was that something was trying to get me and something was also protecting me because I never felt bad in my grandparents' house except for my room.

And then there was the friend's house I stayed with in high school, but that is another story.

When I was seventeen/eighteen my abilities were going out of control and I found a wonderful mentor who helped me hone my gifts. Two days after I graduated high school I started working for a psychic salon in Boston called the Original Tremont Tearoom and spent five wonderful years there while in college reading there among a wonderful group of people who helped pull a country girl into being a city girl and showing me a whole different way of life. It was a time I will always remember and spawned my Soul Reaper series.

Toward the end, I was losing my voice doing readings because I had to make a life decision, follow my path of writing books or doing readings for a living. I chose writing.

I no longer do readings professionally, and if you comment and ask for one the answer is still no, but once and a bit I will turn up volume and help out some friends if need be. Once I chose writing I turned down the dial on my abilities so that I don't have to listen to the things that constantly nag at me for attention and over time I've learned to ignore them too, but once and a while some stuff slips through the cracks.


It's still difficult for me to be in a room full of large people because of all the noise and I avoid graveyards because I don't need anyone coming home with me.

Putting down psychic as prior job experience has been fun because potential employers think I'm pulling their leg until they check my references, but at this point I'm so entrenched in my current day job I really don't worry about it because it was so long ago, but I always answer employers with a warm smile and a warning I can read your mind so don't piss me off, just kidding of course. I really can't read any one's mind. I'm not that good.


Overall, being psychic is part of who I am and there is nothing I can do to change it even if I try and turn it off.  Besides I garner inspiration from the world around me all the time for my books because of it and give advice to those who need it.

Some folks don't believe it and that's okay. My belief is that everyone is sensitive or psychic. It just all depends on if someone is tuned into it or not. Believe me or don't, that is up to you. But of you ask me for a reading the answer is still no. I'd rather write you into one of my books.

Wouldn't that be more fun than me telling your future?

Blog Hop Event Page It's that time of year again folks where sparklers and fireworks are going to light up the night sky. Loud booms will rock the houses and we will all admire the amazing designs and colors that celebrate our Nation's Birthday.

In honor of all the hot filled nights and pretty displays, I am honored to be a part of When Sparks Fly Blog Hop.

Have an awesome Hop! Hope your fourth is filled with plenty of bangs and good food.

In order to enter, please sign up with Rafflecopter.


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Hi Everyone!Please welcome Annabeth Leong to my blog today. It's great to have her here.

A big thank you to Crymsyn Hart for hosting me today!I started out writing short stories, and was daunted for a long time by trying to plan longer works. The idea of writing at novel length intimidated me, let alone organizing plots and creating characters that could stretch over multiple volumes. Considering that some writers I know seem to naturally think in chunks greater than 70,000 words, I sometimes wondered if I just wasn’t cut out for that type of storytelling. I’ve been overcoming that fear bit by bit, though—Breathless Press recently released my short novel, Not the Leader of the Pack, which takes place in an urban fantasy werewolf culture I created for a previous title, Not His Territory. I’ve got some other longer works available as well. I thought I’d share a few tips that helped me go from short to long. 1.  Get interestedIt may seem obvious, but it’s impossible to write a longer work or series without being very interested in the subject matter. I’m interested in my short stories, too, but I get to have drive-by relationships with those characters that last days or weeks. Longer works mean weeks or months inside a character’s head or living in a given world, and I need to have the enthusiasm to match. In the case of Not the Leader of the Pack, I had plenty of things that interested me and carried me through: the Montana setting, the hero’s job as a minor-league baseball player, a conflict between societal law and shifter passion, and, of course, lots of hot sex. I found myself plotting and writing with ease because I wanted to know what happened next. Really, a writer is her own first reader, and it’s great to be invested in the book. 2.  Ask questionsWhen I wrote Not His Territory, I didn’t intend for it to have a sequel or become a series. The book does stand alone, but when I reread it once it came out, I realized I wanted to know lots more about the world and the people in it. Seeing it as a reader, I found a lot of mystery in the story, and wanted it resolved. As I promoted Not His Territoryand wrote posts about it, I kept coming up against my own questions about the world. Finally, I sat down and wrote them all down. Once I found myself facing that list of questions, I knew I needed to answer them. I started making notes, and soon had the beginnings of a plot for a new book. Not the Leader of the Pack is my first attempt to flesh out the world I’d created. I made sure that it, too, stands alone, but it’s set against a larger context that also contains mysteries. While this answers some questions, it raises some others. I plan to repeat the process, because there’s more I want to know!3.  Shine your flashlightSome writers may create complex outlines of a series, nailing down every detail before they write the first word. That might be necessary for a tightly interconnected series, where every detail depends on many others, but that’s not the way I write. As I wrote Not the Leader of the Pack, I discovered more about the world where it’s set, and created some canon details in the process. However, there’s still a lot I don’t know. I’ve had to strike a balance between known and unknown to progress through the work. Each book is like a flashlight that I shine into a certain area. Once I shine it there, I know what’s in that place and it’s recorded and set that way for the reader. I’m comfortable with the remaining dark areas, because I can shine a flashlight into those places in the future. To demonstrate this in action, I’ll give an example of one of the places I illuminated with Not the Leader of the Pack. In the first story I wrote, I mentioned an ongoing conflict in Missoula, Montana, that had tied up a bunch of the officials responsible for keeping the peace in werewolf society. One of the first questions I asked was, “What exactly is going on in Missoula?” Answering that through free-writing sessions gave me the idea of an unusual transfer of pack leadership, which became the foundation of my current release.

Excerpt:Darrow’s eyes opened wide, and he fixed his daughter with a look that she definitely recognized. Blue, piercing, and implacable, with just enough mischief to show he understood every irony the situation might have. In that moment, Juli’s dying father seemed very much alive and present. “Sweetheart, I wanted you to stay in Missoula because I raised you to take over the pack someday.”He’d never said that to her before. Certainly not throughout the many battles they’d had during her adolescence, when he hadn’t accepted a single decision she wanted to make. Juli had thought they’d agreed to disagree when she went to work in Lewistown. Had he really harbored a hope that she would return to Missoula to become pack alpha? Juli licked her lips nervously. Her mouth had gone dry. “What about Neil? Isn’t he expecting...” Surely, Neil had stood by Juli’s father so staunchly because he anticipated being named as a successor.A strange, beatific smile spread over his face. “You have a lot to teach Neil.”“Me?” She was stammering. She’d never needed so many deep breaths in her life.“He needs you. He’s a good beta, but he still doesn’t have an alpha’s heart.”“Daddy.” Juli kept her voice as gentle as she could. “I love you. I’m glad I came to see you. But I have a job in Lewistown. I can’t stay here with Neil.”“Not just Neil. The pack.” He released her and lifted shaking hands off the bed. He grabbed the leather ring of leadership and tried to work it off his finger.“Daddy, wait!”“I did wait for you, Juli. This needs to be done while I’m alive, or Neil gets the leadership automatically. I’m sorry, baby girl, but I can’t wait any longer.” The ring came free. He grabbed her hand. She could not believe the steel in his grip or the determination in his eyes.“Daddy, no!” Footsteps slapped against the tile floor. The ICU nurse and Neil rushed into the room just in time to see Juli’s father force the leather ring onto her finger. She snatched her hand from his grip, but he continued to struggle, locked in a battle with an invisible force.“Darrow!” Neil cried.Before Juli could put together an answer, machines broke into a cacophony of beeping.Blurb:
Rival alphas Juli Gunby and Neil Statham want to tear each other apart — but will they do it in battle or as mates?
When Juli Gunby left Missoula, Montana, she didn’t intend to come back. Not to her exacting alpha werewolf father, and certainly not to Neil Statham, the beta who rejected Juli’s girlish advances. Her father, as usual, has other ideas, using his dying breath to pass pack leadership to his daughter. Juli resolves to carry out her duty to her father and her pack, but the one man she wants on her side has made himself her enemy.
After years of loyal service to the pack, Neil expects to take over as alpha when his mentor dies. As good as it is to see Juli again, he knows he can’t trust her. After all, she abandoned both him and the pack years ago and never looked back. Neil determines to fight for his rightful position in the pack, even if that means going up against a woman who fills him with an overwhelming urge to mate every time she walks into the room.
Someone needs to lead, and the more Neil and Juli fight, the more they attract interference from those who would control the pack and destroy the ties between them.
Buy Links:
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-nottheleaderofthepack-1216512-149.html?referrer=5148b13c78ae0Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Not-The-Leader-Pack-ebook/dp/B00D3OUT4C/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1369993051&sr=8-2&keywords=annabeth+leongAmazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Not-The-Leader-Pack-ebook/dp/B00D3OUT4C/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1369993135&sr=8-1&keywords=annabeth+leong+not+the+leader+of+the+packBookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/not-the-leader-of-the-packBreathless Press: http://www.breathlesspress.com/index.php?main_page=product_free_shipping_info&cPath=13&products_id=452&zenid=nipaehvv20bbjv9041ico7epf1
Bio:
Annabeth Leong has written romance and erotica of many flavors -- dark, kinky, vanilla, straight, lesbian, bi, and menage. Her titles for Breathless Press include Not His Territory, Not the Leader of the Pack, and a contribution to the Ravagedanthology. She enjoys writing about the tension between passion and control that werewolves embody. Unfortunately, when Annabeth loses control of herself, she does not gain the power to change shape. She lives in Providence, Rhode Island, blogs at annabethleong.blogspot.com, and tweets @AnnabethLeong. She loves talking books on Goodreads, too: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5295946.Annabeth_Leong
Buy One, Get One Free Offer:
Not the Leader of the Pack stands alone, but Annabeth has written in its world before. She’d love to share the previous title, Not His Territory, with current readers. If you’d like to participate, e-mail proof of purchase of Not the Leader of the Pack, such as an Amazon receipt, to annabeth dot leong at gmail dot com and let her know your e-book format of choice. Annabeth will buy a copy of Not His Territory for the first 25 people who respond.
Annabet Leong Blog Tour

We have six arms, four heads- the more to think with-, beady dark eyes covered by the sagging thought lines etched into our foreheads and we slouch from all the time we spend hunched over our computers. Of course this sounds like something more if a character in a book and not the writer. In reality, a writer is anyone. We aren't monsters, we just nurse them inside our head until our skulls crack open from the pain of birthing such a creature.

And as we birth the creature, spewing them forth onto paper, nurturing them until they are grown, there are more underneath the skin waiting for their time. And when one idea is done it becomes like a hydra and no matter how many times we try and kill one head another one grows, spawning a sequel or a whole series. So really as writers we are gods, gods of our own world where we control life and death. It is a power trip and one that can become addicting until the inhabitants of your world decide to rise up and take you prisoner and then the writer becomes their worse nightmare.

That is when the writer becomes stuck in a bathrobe, trolling the house in slippers and staring at the keyboard and blank computer screen because writer's block has taken over or there is no coffee on the house to be found.

But when the prison riots are done and the writer is once freed up again, they are crazed to get back to what they know. All I can say from that point on, is watch out. You never know if you will end up the victim of an author's trade and become cannon fodder.

All I can advise is don't get on the author's bad side no matter what the author looks like of what you think an author looks like because, really, we are all authors writing our own story.

Don't you agree?

Sex is a normal part of life. It can be recreational, series, and involve so many positions that it makes me wonder how can a person contort themselves in certain ways. It's enjoyable and squishy all at the same time and yet some people find it hard to live without.

But when people try to talk about sex, they blush or they can't talk about it at all. Some have no taboos and are open to talking about everything including all the kink that can be involved with sex as well. Overall, the most basic point being if you talk about it or not, think it's funny or not, this is how we all got here. Procreation is something that our parents did, my parents did (even though I really don't want to picture that), and their parents before them did.  No matter what it boils down it, it's a part of life and it sells.

This past Saturday I attended ConCarolinas, a sci-fi/fantasy convention that is local to me in Charlotte to support my friends, Alexandra Christian and Siobhan Kinkade and to see some friends I only run into at the Con. I wasn't there in any official author capacity, but to hang out and have a good time maybe sell a few books for my friends. It was a long day, panels were attended, drinks were had all around, I met some awesome new people, and then it was nearing midnight and the erotica panel came around.

So I attended and since Siobhan and Alexandra were the only authors up there, I got dragged into going up and speaking which was awesome. There was a large gift bag of adult goodies, books, and others treats being given away donated by the lovely Bobbie Jo Baynard.  The three of us talked, rocked, and conquered the erotica panel with a great audience, a microphone that kept drooping, and six inch rainbow penis sucker that stole the show.

Writing erotic romance was never what I started off writing. I started with horror and have recently turned my hand back to writing more horror and making my romances more graphic because that is what moves me. However, you have to admit that no matter what sex is an integral part of any relationship and when I wrote my first sex scene I blushed all the way through it. Now, blushing is not a problem just vocabulary. It's difficult finding the right words for the human anatomy and making sure which limb is where and who is touching who.

So far I seem to be doing a good job of it. I haven't gotten any complaints.

What do you all think?

The Thin Red Line Part 4: Immortal Desire

Part of the vampire’s allure in fiction is immortality: that inability to age. Along with youth, the creature of darkness retains his zest for life and love. He is a creature of desire and wanton cravings. We want him to want us forever. And because he will live forever, we think that he can.
 
Normal love goes through several stages. According to http://www.ericrobersonmusic.com/2013/02/14/9-stages-of-love-all-couples-go-through/, there are 9: infatuation, understanding differences, disturbance over differences, opinion-making based on knowledge, molding one another into personal ideals, being content, doubt, sexual exploration, and complete trust. These are pretty self-explanatory, and I believe that any long-term relationship that is successful does go through these stages. Looking back in the ten years of my married life, I can remember each one.
 
There is an argument that most vampiric love in novels stops at stage 6, if it ever gets that far. To be fair, most romances and romantic novels end with a couple marrying or committing in some way, which makes this logical. And the whole point of reading something romantic is to enjoy the romance of it. Who wants to hear the terrible word “doubt” when that tall handsome stranger is whispering that he’ll love you forever? The real question here is the wrong assumption that a vampire’s ability to look the same extends to all facets of his personality, including emotion. He will not change in appearance, not if the legends are true. But inside, the vampire will change with the passage of time. He didn’t alwayslove you, right? So if he can fall in love, he can fall out of love as well. So why wouldn’t a long successful relationship with a vampire lead to all 9 stages of love? My reasoning says it would.
 
Part of the allure is that we want the vampire to remain just as he is that first moment he loved us; to lock that mindset forever in place and have it remain as unchanging as he is. We want the intensity of infatuation, the adventure of new romance, the life-and-death feeling of living moment-to-moment waiting for the next encounter. We want immortal desire, literally. But the truth is that if we could manage to stay in that exciting, romantic stage by some magic, we will never get beyond to the stage of happiness, or better yet, the stage of complete trust. Is that what we really want…forever?
 
 
Author Bio: Tara Fox Hall’s writing credits include nonfiction, horror, suspense, action-adventure, erotica, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She is the author of the paranormal action-adventure Lash series and the vampire romantic suspense Promise Me series. Tara divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice.
Author Links:
Website: www.tarafoxhall.com
Email: tarafoxhallATgmailDOTcom
 Tara's Blog: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5286654.Tara_Fox_Hall/blog
 Tara's Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tara-Fox-Hall/151813374904903
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/TerrorFoxHall
 
Taken in the Nightis Book #3 of the Promise Me Series.
 
Blurb: When Theo disappears, Sar is left bereft, the uncertain guardian of Theo’s newly born werecougar daughter, Elle. As months pass, clues emerge about Theo’s disappearance, yet the twisting trail ends repeatedly without answer. In her grief, Sar turns to Danial and hesitantly begins to build a life with him and Elle.
 
Excerpt: “I should go,” Danial said reluctantly. “It’s late.”
I stopped him, my hand on his arm. “Please, stay with me a little while.”
“Sar—” he began warily.
“Please, Danial. I have to talk to you. Come with me.” I held out my hand.
He sighed, and took my hand. I led him below to the bedroom that had been his not long ago. Danial sat on the edge of the bed with me.
“She understands us,” I said quietly. “I didn’t want to talk in front of her.”
“What is it, Sar?” he said tiredly.
“You remember the Hallows party a year ago?”
“Of course,” Danial said with longing. “I remember being so nervous, worried you wouldn’t show. I remember how you looked in the dress, dancing with me.” He paused. “Why do you bring it up?”
“Because you must be going to have another one soon, unless you’re skipping this year.”
“Yes, in late November,” Danial said edgily. “I closed the business while looking for Theo, and am going to reopen it next year. I need the last months of this year to finish up loose ends of old business.” He sighed. “And I need to hire someone to replace Theo, if such a thing can be done.”
“I want to be there, Danial,” I said. “If you would permit me to come.”
“I had hoped you would be,” Danial said, kissing me gently on the forehead. “I wanted to invite you, but wasn’t sure you’d want to—”
“I know you will invite Samuel,” I said forcefully. “I want to question him about Theo—”
His eyes tinted red immediately. “Sar, that is not what I had in mind. I have already talked to him, and he said he did nothing.”
“I don't believe him, Danial. You weren’t there when he and Theo had words.”
“That doesn’t matter,” he retorted. “He is a Ruler. You cannot question him as if he were a mere human.”
“I certainly can—”
“Sar, I forbid it,” Danial said arrogantly, grabbing hold of me. “And that is the end of it.”
“Who are you to forbid me anything?” I said furiously.
“I’m a man that loves you,” he said furiously back, and kissed me hard, pulling the length of his body against mine as we fell backwards onto the bed.
I struggled, but he kissed me more thoroughly, his lips and body cool against mine. I shuddered in his arms, the feeling of being held and desired making me weak with relief and happiness.
Danial moved, rolling me from my side unto my back, his kisses intensifying. He shifted suddenly, pressing down with his hips. I felt his erection pressing firmly to my belly, and I shuddered, my mouth opening to let out a gasp. He saw the opportunity and took it, sliding his tongue into my mouth to taste me. I trembled, and then kissed him back for all I was worth.
Danial broke the kiss, his black eyes staring at me beneath him as he pulled off his shirt. I arched my back, pulling my sweater off over my head. All I’d needed to do was kiss him, and I wanted him so badly I could taste it.
 
Buy links:
http://www.amazon.com/Taken-Night-Promise-Me-ebook/dp/B00B97RBGO  AMAZON US
                           
 http://www.amazon.co.uk/Taken-Night-Promise-Me-ebook/dp/B00B97RBGO  AMAZON UK
 
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/280682             Smashwords
 
http://www.lulu.com/shop/tara-fox-hall/taken-in-the-night/paperback/product-20660329.html;jsessionid=DB44BA4156D8D250C3BA986B45BE5C02       Print copies-Lulu
          http://www.melange-books.com/authors/tarafoxhall/takeninthenight.html  Melange Books (HTML and PDF)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-takeninthenight-1076465-139.html
All Romance E-Books
 http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/taken-in-the-night-book-3-promise-me-series-tara-fox-hall/1114375016   Barnes and Noble
 
 
 

Hi Everyone,

Today I am proud to have Danica St. Como on my blog. Please make her feel welcome.


At a recent writers’ conference, the discussion came up during an after hours gathering: where do writers find inspiration? Where does one go for that special idea that grows into a novel?
Not to put too fine a point on it, everywhere! The newbie writer who asked the question scoffed at first, but she finally realized I was serious. Others authors began to chime in.
This sounds so trite, but it’s true: keep a notebook with you at all times (electronic or paper, whatever works for you). I carry a notebook everywhere, even when I’m watching the tellie. Something as simple as a single word or a phrase can get the brain cells charged up. A picture. A smell—the odor of a Peppermint Pattie became the trigger for a kidnap victim in my latest book.
Blog Tour for Danica St. ComoWe live on a farm. Although the neighbors hay the fields for me when they can, my job is to keep the fields mowed so we can run field trials for sighthounds (the Greyhound-type family of swift running dogs). Mowing, while satisfying when one sees the end result, doesn’t require lots of brain power. However, it does free the mind to wander. Through the process of spending hours on the tractor, a single story idea grew into a trilogy, which then morphed into six books, and is currently at nine (Book Five is with my editor, Book Six is being whipped into shape).
When I crank up the computers in the morning (PC and laptop), the first thing I do is click on the news, then take a quick look at everything that pops up—and I do mean everything. I check all the news feeds. If something interests me, I copy it to a document and save it. I keep a list of novel notes which includes such news items, so I remember why I saved it. I’m not a huge television junkie, but I do watch NCIS and NCIS:LA, as well as both History channels, and the Discovery Channel. I don’t watch reality shows, but I do watch the other stuff. I check out shows about the Secret Service and the FBI. I watch the Military Channel. (I write erotic romance with an edge of suspense—most of my books usually center around former military or law enforcement characters.) Through all this, I jot down notes.
When I see or hear an interesting name, I write it down, then do searches to discover the origin and ethnicity of that name. I begin to flesh out characters, based on those names. I might see a recipe which intrigues me—that also goes into my character-building file. I have a “stable” of vehicles that I assign to my people. Driving down the road, I see a Volkswagen Beetle. Voila! One of my characters may play Punch Buggy.
My daughter manages two retail stores, and comes home with the most outrageous stories about her customers. Baddabing! New character traits are added to my list. Are you antsy because you’re stuck in line at the grocery store? Pull out your notebook (hey, cops do it all the time), write down your impressions of people, children, what’s weird in the produce aisle. what’s on sale.
At the end of our discussion, our newbie was slack jawed when she realized the world around her was teaming with ideas, just waiting for her to weave them into her stories.
What’s in your world?







Blade DanceBy: Danica St. Como | Other books by Danica St. ComoPublished By: Decadent Publishing Company, LLCISBN # 9781613334867Word Count: 21000
Available in: Epub, HTML, Microsoft Reader, Adobe Acrobat, Mobipocket (.prc)
Read More  

About the book



Pissed off, crabby, and contemplating getting a guard dog, Wallis Gardner is goddamned tired of being laid up with a gunshot wound while her men—blond, blue-eyed Austin Cooper and dark-haired, grizzly bear Michael Gallo—finish the job they’d all been working on with the Bureau of Criminal Investigations.

An anonymous tip sends her partners on a futile chase, leaving Wallis to deal with the massive cast on her leg and the creepy new tenant in the small cottage at the edge of her property. When Austin and Michael return, the welcome home party leaves them all exhausted but satisfied before a call comes in with yet another missing girl.

Unprotected, Wallis finds herself dancing at the end of a killer’s blade. But with life and love on the line, this is one dance she intends to lead.
An excerpt from the book


hey’re back. My boys are back. They…are…baaack! If it wasn’t for the cast, Wallis would be doing an energetic Snoopy Dance of happiness.

The last assignment had been the first time their team had been dispatched, short one member. She was honest enough with herself to admit she missed her specialty, which was pouring through evidence. Missed the adrenaline kick when her theories panned out. Missed working within the tight, cohesive unit formed by the three partners as they worked major crime scenes. She’d been stuck at the house, feeling useless, awkward—and oh, so lonely.

Wallis leaned on the kitchen counter, elbows on the cool tile, mug of fresh, hot coffee cradled in her hands. She gazed through the multi-paned windows over the sink, enjoyed the color-drenched patch of relentless wildflowers that struggled for survival at the back edge of the lawn. Engrossed in her reverie, she yipped when a pair of strong arms grabbed her around the waist.

Austin nuzzled the back of her neck.

“Yuck, cowboy, I spilled my coffee. And your hair is still wet. You’re dripping on me.”

“Sorry, darlin’, I couldn’t bear to spend another single minute away from you.”

She twisted in his arms, kissed him. “That’s the best excuse I’ve ever heard. You’re forgiven.”

He took her face in his big hands, returned her kiss with enthusiasm.

She leaned into him. “Mmm, baby, I missed you, missed you, missed you.” She inhaled, deeply. “And you smell so good.”

“Definitely better than I smelled before. I missed you, too. You left me alone with Gallows-Boy. You know how cranky he can be, especially when he’s tired.”

“It wasn’t like I did it on purpose, y’know.” She tapped against the cast with her fingernails.

Austin snorted. “Like getting shot in the line of duty is a good enough excuse for leaving me with him.”

However, his interest in her closeness was immediately evident beneath the towel wrapped around his waist.

Her eyebrow arched then she smiled. “Wow, you did miss me.”



Danica St. Como Author Bio:
A Jersey girl born and bred, for the past nine years Danica St. Como has written at her farm in central upstate New York, surrounded by any number of Whippets—both under desk and underfoot—as well as a malevolent treadmill that stares at her from across the room. She puts her pen to paper, in a manner of speaking, under several romance sub-genres: contemporary, MFM  and MMF ménage a trois, MM pairings, erotic historical, paranormal -- all hot, all steamy, and all sexually explicit.



St. Como is a member of the Romance Writers of America and the Central New York Romance Writers chapter of the RWA. Readers can contact her at [email protected]. 
Danica St. Como Author Links:
http://www.DanicaStComo.comhttp://www.DivasOfDesire.blogspot.comhttp://FaceBook.com/DanicaStComohttp://www.amazon.com/Danica-St.-Como/e/B00850QP9W/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1361569704&sr=1-2-enthttp://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4772730.Danica_St_Comohttps://www.nobleromance.com/Authors/157/Danica-St-Comohttp://www.decadentpublishing.com/advanced_search_result.php?keywords=danica+st.+como&osCsid=s50uih5je0hha26lm439i8cvh4

The month is almost gone and some crazy things have been going on. I've been writing on and off, but not as fast as I like since my hands have been bothering me. The husband had some news from the doctor that we had to change his diet and I get to eat fish...not my favorite thing in the world...but anything to make sure that he stays healthy. He came back with super high cholesterol so I'm cooking a few different things for him. Lots of chicken which I don't mind. He goes back to the doctor in three months to get a check up and see if everything with the new Meds are working.

On the writing front, I'm waiting to hear back from three different publishers on three very different projects. As the waiting continues, I vow to I will not keep checking my inbox to see if I have gotten a response yet. Of course, I have already broken that vow considering I can get a little obsessive.

So as of right now I have written over 60K words on two very different books. One the third in the Two-Natured series and the other is the second in my Deathly Encounters Series.

And while I'm writing, the days are slowly slipping away and April has forsaken me and May is coming soon. I can't believe it. In that month, the husband and I will have been married nine years one year less than me writing professionally. So I guess that is a milestone.

On April 19, 2013 I was on the radio with Almost Live with Alex talking about my books and my past work as a psychic. The link is posted here if you want to listen to it. I'm in the second hour, but check it out.

If you like vampires, check out my blog post on the V Spot Blog. They have some awesome authors posting.

As fast as April is going, it seems my Lab/Border Collie is actually faster. We had a random bunny running through our yard at night and she finally caught up with rabbit so we had a bunny funeral at 11 p.m. on Friday night after dragging the husband out of bed. Poor bunny, but at least our dog hasn't gotten the squirrels that frequent the yard yet. I don't think I can deal with all the little furries.

So as today is a rainy day, dinner is going to be chicken and spinach pizza and I'm going to write for the rest of the night.