Seeing Double

First the Contest and it's a great one.


Wanna Win Free Books?


Eternally Yours Contest


What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire?


Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.



The prizes –

1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books


Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.


Participating Authors:

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle




Tonight's Guy:



Luke Ursine
Were
Occupation: Has a degree in architecture, but spends his time rehabbing old homes.
Age: 154 (looks 28-29)
Story: Appears first in Mating Stone by Elyssa Edwards from Ellora’s Cave. His own story is told in Lovers’ Stone to be released in July ’08.

His own brother refers to him as Lucas “screw the whole world and everyone in it” Ursine. And for a good many years that’s been the side of him the world, especially his twin brother Mark and his clan, have seen. The breach between the twins goes back decades and is wrapped inextricably around a family tragedy that claimed the lives of the two people who meant the most to them both. Luke can’t forgive Mark for his part in what happened, but he has never forgiven himself either.

Intelligent and wicked, Luke delights in rubbing people the wrong way. The only person left in his world he’ll listen to is his aging human grandmother, Giselle. He still does exactly what he wants, but he’d do almost anything to keep from upsetting her. Anything but let Mark challenge their grandfather for power. Anything but let Mark ascend to the role of Amar of the clan. Not even his respect for Giselle will stop him if Mark tries to take power.


Excerpt from Mating Stone:

Her heart was fluttering and she willed her overly vivid imagination to stop before it got carried away imagining all sorts of bizarre scenarios. “What is going on here? Why did you lock that door?”

The brown eyes rolled and he gave an amused snort. “Woman believe me, this is where you want to be right now.”

“Why? What’s happening out there?”

Luke closed his eyes, boredom pouring from him. “Don’t play stupid with me. You know what’s happening.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t,” the fear was growing and starting to fuel a flame of anger. “What is Mark doing and why do I need you to protect me?” Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it thud, especially when her own ears heard just how frightened she sounded.

One eye opened and looked at her. Luke sat up, swinging his long legs back to the floor and stared at her as if she had a puzzle written across her face. “It’s not possible,” he muttered softly. “Mark isn’t this stupid.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

Luke stood and began to pace the room. He paused, “She’s wearing the pendant. He has to have told her. He wouldn’t hide this from his mate.” Luke shook his head slowly, “Would he?” he seemed to be talking to himself so she stood silently watching him as he began to pace again. After several minutes he stopped at the far end of the room and turned to look straight at her. Faster than she had ever seen anyone move, he closed the distance between them, grasped her left hand and turned it palm up. The oath he uttered was loud and coarse.

She tried to control the tremble of fear that was making her knees weak and shaky. She bit down to keep her lip from quivering noticeably. Luke stared into her eyes for a long moment. “You really don’t know what’s happening, do you?” The awe in his voice gave way to a flash of fury as he thrust her hand away and dropped back down onto the sofa. “By all that’s holy, you really don’t know.” Sarah watched him shake his head. “Oh my brother, you’re not only a fool, you’re an unmitigated ass to boot.”

“Mark isn’t a fool or an ass.”

She was rewarded by a derisive snort of angry mirth. “Little Sarah you have no idea who or what my brother is or you’d already have run away screaming.”

The remark made no sense and she decided he was trying to confuse and frighten her. “So now that we’ve decided I don’t know, would you please answer my question? What is happening out there? What is Mark doing?”

The anger seemed to vanish as if he squelched it deliberately. The lazy smile was back.
“What’s he doing out there? Being the noble, idiotic, idealistic fool he has always been.”
Sarah felt her jaw clench. He was the most infuriating man. He was deliberately wicked and argumentative not to mention he seemed to have mood swings that made any woman’s PMS seem tame. No wonder Mark disliked him. He shook his head in disbelief at his own thoughts and muttered so softly she almost missed the words, “Giving it up and he hasn’t even mated to her, hasn’t told her…”

He wanted to be difficult, she could be difficult to. She’d keep at it until he answered. “All I’m asking for is a straight answer. There’s something you think I should know but don’t. What don’t I know?”

“More than you can imagine.” Sarah gave a high pitched grunt of frustration. A soft chuckle escaped the man’s throat and he held his hands up in concession. “Okay, little Sarah, you win. I’m going to answer your questions but don’t blame me if you don’t like what you hear…”


(Christian Bale is also used for Luke, since he and Mark are twins, in honor of my friend Llew who thinks he makes a perfect Luke.)

Contest!

Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire?

Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –
1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle

Mating Stone release day!

The day is finally here. My first book for Ellora's Cave is now available. Mating Stone is part of the Jewels of the Nile series and as a February release should, focuses around an amethyst.



Sarah has found the perfect man and best of all, he loves her deeply. Before introducing her to his family he proposes and presents her with an amethyst pendant, a stone she doesn't realize is more than symbolic. When his brother reveals Mark's secret, Sarah must decide if she loves him enough to accept him even if he's not exactly human. And Mark must decide how far he'll go, how much he'll give up to claim Sarah as his mate. Is he willing to abandon his birthright? Is he willing to kill his own brother to keep it and Sarah?



This story is the first in a series of stories that follow the men introduced within its pages. Mark Ursine, eldest and the heir apparent. Luke Ursine, younger brother and twin to Mark. Past tragedies have turned sibling rivalry into hate but standing between the two Weres is Tarris. An orphaned incubus, he was taken in by their father and raised among the shape shifters. Only he seems to be able to bridge the gap between them, or at least prevent all out war.



Tonight's Guy:



Mark Ursine
Were
Profession: That's a long story.
Age: 154 (looks about 28-29)
Story: Mating Stone by Elyssa Edwards from Ellora's Cave.





Mark is part of a race of shape shifters that found their way to our world before humans had mastered the use of fire. Respectful of the sentient creatures they believed had great potential, the shifters kept to themselves so as not to intefere with their evolution. When disaster collapsed the energy source that allowed them to remain in phase with our world, they tied their spirits to those of animals so that they could survive and remain. Mark is decended from a group that chose to unite with the bear. They do not choose which species of bear they become, that is determined by birth and largely influenced by family bloodlines.


Mark becomes the great brown bear, also known as the Kodiak. When tragedy, his guilt and his brother's blame drove him to distance himself from his family, he didn't realize his time in the human world would introduce him to the one person above all that he could love with his heart and soul. As the oldest it is he who must replace his grandfather as Amar, the leader of their clan. But will his brother Luke allow him to succeed without a challenge? Will his people accept his choice of mate? And once Sarah finds out what he is, will she still want him?





Excerpt:



God she’d missed him.



Mark rose from between her thighs licking his lips wickedly and smiling in a very smug, self-satisfied way. And with damn good reason. He kissed her and helped her slip down off the sideboard before holding her against his chest. “So passionate, my love.”


Passionate was not a word anyone had used to describe Sarah in the past. But with Mark it was true and even she knew it. She moved her hand down to stroke him. He was hard and ready for her and she was shocked when he grabbed her hand and stilled her movements.

“My family will be waiting,” he said softly. This was the second reason for splurging on the green dress. Tonight she’d meet Mark’s family. She had to admit this was moving very fast yet it seemed right. So exactly right. He kissed her again and smiled into her face. “After tonight, we will have all the time in the world.”


She readjusted the bodice of her dress as he lifted her panties from the floor and knelt. He held them out for her as she stepped back into them. He kissed her again as he slid the fabric almost reluctantly back up over her hips. She tried to smooth down the skirt of her dress, just certain it was wrinkled beyond help.



He caught her chin and tilted her head up. “You look beautiful. But before we go, there is something I want to give you,” Mark smoothed his hands over her hair and tucked the wayward strand behind an ear. Sarah couldn’t help but smile. He stepped back slightly and closed the last buttons on his shirt and quickly tied his tie. He brushed at his jacket and drew in a deep breath. Looking even more incredible than before, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a large, flat, dark blue box. Sarah’s eyes widened. Mark was always giving her little things, whether they’d been apart minutes, hours or not at all but that was a jeweler’s box and it looked more than a bit expensive.



He put the box in her hands and gestured for her to open it. When she did, her jaw dropped. Lying on a bed of black velvet was a large amethyst. The stone was simply set and hung from a delicate box chain. She looked up at Mark. “Mark, this is…”




He cut her off. “A gift, Sarah.” Something about his voice was thick and odd. “It is something I want you to have, something I hope you will accept,” his eyes gazed deep into hers. “Darling, my family…our traditions are different from most. A lot about us is different from what you’re used to. We don’t give rings, my love. When a man in my family asks a woman to join her life to his, he gives her a stone like this, her birthstone. And this stone,” he drew in a deep breath, “this is my promise to you. My pledge, Sarah-mine.”




“Mark, are you saying… Are you asking…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Was he asking her to marry him?




“It can’t be a surprise to you that I love you, Sarah. I know that you feel strongly for me. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me, feel it in your touch. I want you to be mine, to be my wife, my partner, my mate. I want you by my side, my love. This is what I had to go away to do, I had to find the stone and have it set for you.” He caressed her cheek softly.




“This is so fast,” she murmured. She wanted to scream yes with all that was in her but it was so fast. And Sarah never did anything fast. Her whole life had been about slow and easy. The word impulsive just wasn’t in her vocabulary. Not until she’d met Mark.




[...]




“Sarah, I know this is fast for you. I know that you… Sarah for me this is much simpler. I know exactly what I want and I know it will never change. But I want you to be sure. I don’t want you to answer me yet. It’s not fair to ask you to make up your mind when you haven’t even met my family. I only want you to think about it and I wanted to give you this so there is no question in your mind or anyone else’s where we stand. I want you and my family to know I am yours and you are mine. No gray areas.”




She looked up at him. She loved him. She really did love him and for some stupid reason, not a part of her believed he didn’t love her. She wanted to marry him. She wanted to raise a family with him, grow old with him. She wanted every silly romantic cliché and she wanted it with Mark. She swallowed hard before speaking. “But doesn’t my not answering you leave a lot of gray area?”




“You’ve answered.” He kissed her softly on the lips and then on the forehead. “With your eyes, Sarah-mine you’ve answered.” He smiled down at her. “But I want to give you the option to change your mind once you’ve seen the true level of insanity that spawned me.”




“Everyone thinks their family is weird, Mark,” she reassured him.




“Mine isn’t weird, Sarah. They’re… well, you’ll see.”

(Christian Bale is being used for Mark in honor of my friend and constant supporter Llew. He's not exactly my Mark, but pretty damned close.)



It's contest time!

Eternally Yours Contest


What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire?

Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –

1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

So, who has it today? Sorry, not me. Keep looking.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle




And finally, I have to take a moment to do a little girl squeeee. I'm attending a writing workshop this weekend. This post is being made by courtesy of in room Wi-Fi.



See I grew up without money. We had a lot of times we went without food, running water, electricity, heat and clothes. It sucked. Today when I checked into my hotel room it was the most amazing thing. This is a moderate scale hotel. It's a Hilton. All I can say is when I saw the clean room, big bed, cool furnishings, etc. I felt like I was a little girl. All I could do for several minutes was walk around grinning and saying, "Cool."


Nerd moment over...or at least the part I'm sharing is.

Migraine

No. Really. Sucks. Hurts. No Blog. Going to crawl back into dark hole. Scroll down and read about contest.

Mating Stone releases tomorrow. Blog hunk tomorrow will be star of said Mating Stone, the sweet and sexy Mark Ursine. www.ellorascave.com

Very, very sorry.

Him

Contest First!

Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire? Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –
1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle


Now, back to my guys.
Up next?

Him (or whatever you want it to be)
Human
Profession: Actor
Age: (as old as you want him to be)
Story: Seeing Me by Elyssa Edwards from Ellora's Cave

Yep, that’s right, Him. No, that isn’t his name, but that’s all you get as you read this story.

He is an actor. He has paid his dues and now makes the big bucks and rakes in the offers since he started playing the lead in a series of films based on the books of a famous scifi/fantasy writer. The blockbuster films have made the writer, the studios and everyone else a great deal of money. And he’s not doing too badly himself. His face and the luscious body it tops are used to sell. Sell tickets. Sell books. Sell whatever anyone wants to sell. But he’s not pretty Ken doll. He has a mind, a soul and a heart just like any other man. Only sometimes the world forgets and he doesn’t fight them on it.

Now he’s been booked by his studio to appear at a conference. The largest scifi/fantasy conference in the Southern United States. It’s all a part of the biz. As long as they pay the room, the speaking fee, the limo and the plane ticket, he’s fine with it. Until it starts. The same sanctimonious shit he’s used to hearing again and again from self righteous writers who think they are writing the classic tomes of the future. They denounce the “Hollywood Machine” and staunchly declare they’d never sell out. And as usual, he sits there with his frozen smile until a lovely young woman at the end of the table suddenly blurts out:

“Are you crazy? You’d sell your left testicle if someone wanted to make a movie from one of your books with that kind of budget.”

And when he finds out who she is, this conference takes on a whole new importance.


Excerpt:

[Cara] shook her head, “It’s an honor to be asked to meet you, it was an honor to be on the panel with you. But…” Her words fled her again. You’re a writer for Chrissakes, get a hold of yourself. You are supposed to be a wordsmith, you make your living with words.

“But?” When she didn’t continue his smile broadened encouragingly, “Come on over and sit down. Let me take your bag.” He moved toward her quickly, then stopped and reached hesitantly for the large canvas bag she carried. She pulled it from her shoulders and he took it from her hands. He smiled down at her almost shyly and moved away to place it on a nearby chair. “Please, won’t you sit?” He backed away and sat down on the edge of the large overstuffed white sofa. “Is it Ms. Ellison, or may I call you C.J.?”

“Cara actually,” she had no idea where the answer came from as it sounded in her own voice. “My agent suggested my initials so it wasn’t mistaken for a girlie book.”

She saw him roll his eyes, “Agents, can’t live with them, can’t do business without them.” His gaze shifted quickly back to her and he suddenly seemed to be examining her face intently. “Cara,” he rolled the word off his tongue as if he were tasting it. “It’s Italian, but you don’t look Italian.”

“I’m not.”

“It means expensive,” he grinned at her, “did you know?”

“No,” she looked up at him puzzled. “I thought it meant darling or something like that.”

“No. It’s often used that way,” his eyes seemed to almost sparkle with mischief, “but it means expensive, like a fine bottle of wine. Something to be treated gently, reverently.” He paused and she felt his gaze move over her, “Something to be savored.” He patted the seat next to him. “I promise I don’t bite.” The wicked grin on his face spoke the words his lips didn’t. Unless you want me to.

As she walked toward him she tried not to notice him. Well not so much not notice him, as not notice how he looked. The white shirt had been traded for a black one and the heat rising in her face betrayed the fact that she noticed he hadn’t buttoned it. It was tucked in and only the first button or two above his waistband was closed. A healthy expanse of golden skin, nicely detailed pectoral muscles and a hint of the washboard abs he was famous for were visible. He must have followed her eyes because he began to apologize.

“I’m sorry, it was hot in the ballroom earlier and so I changed shirts, and,” she watched the side of his face as he bent his head forward and started fastening a few more of the buttons. He’s blushing! She realized in amazement. His face was filling with color. She further realized he was stammering a bit. She had embarrassed him. Great, just great. He caught you looking at his chest now he thinks you’re as big a freak as some of those women out there holding signs offering to have his baby. Yet again he had proven himself right, things could get worse.

His hands stilled and he turned his head to look at her. It was still bent and his dark hair was falling in his face, he smiled as if testing to see if she would smile back. She did. The smile widened and his head rose. “Speaking of hot, it suddenly seems a bit warm in here, too. Can I get you something cool?” He stood and moved toward the wet bar at one end of the room. “I did a stint as a bartender, believe it or not, I can make you anything you like.” The mischievous grin swept up over his face lighting up his eyes.

“Really,” she drew the word out to show her mock skepticism. She was quite certain almost anything he wanted to make her she was definitely going to like and like a lot. “Anything I’d like?”

“Yes ma’am, anything you like,” his voice had dropped slightly and his eyes were no longer smiling. The temperature in the room seemed to shoot up several degrees. Or was it just the heat he seemed to be very adept in stirring inside of her?

“White wine is fine,” she turned her head away from him. Breathe. For God’s sake don’t forget to breathe. One thing was certain; she still had no idea why she was here. The look and the innuendo, no those were just games he played, tools of the trade she told herself. He was an actor. His life was about convincing you to like him, to feel comfortable and intimate with him. That he could do it so easily is what made him so good. That he was so damned good at it is what had him infiltrating the dreams of a good number of women in this world.

He returned to where she sat. She took the glass by its thin stem without looking up at him. Instead she looked at the long fingers that held the bowl of the glass, cupping it. Fingers that slid along its surface as she took hold, fingertips dragging through the already building condensation as if they didn’t want to surrender it to her. Her heart rate had jumped and he had said nothing to her, done nothing to her. Again she began to regret her choice of undergarments. The thin lacy bra she’d chosen that morning was definitely making things a lot worse. She didn’t dare look down, guessing was bad enough, she didn’t want to know just how obvious certain things were at the moment.

He didn’t sit immediately but sat his own glass, scotch of some sort she guessed, down on the end table. Maybe she should have opted for something harder than white wine, perhaps the burn of whiskey would have settled her nerves. Or come right back up, she thought ruefully. That was one indignity she definitely didn’t need. He excused himself and went through a side door. He returned before she even had a moment to register his absence. He carried something in his hand. It was a book. It was her book.

He sat down next to her and lifted his glass. He took a swallow of the contents then leaned back. “I asked you up here because I wanted to ask you to sign your book for me.”

“You’ve really read my book?” The words and the accompanying incredulity landed between them with an almost audible thud.

He frowned. “Yes. Didn’t my assistant tell you that you were being asked up to sign your book?”

“Yes, but...”

“But you didn’t figure someone like me had read it.”

“No. I never dreamed someone like you would have read it,” she admitted. She was pulling a large sip from her own glass when he stood up and walked away toward the windows.

“I see. You’re surprised that someone like me would even attempt to read such a work. I might muddle through a script alright, but real books are something else.”

She stared at him in shock. “I didn’t say that. That’s not what I meant.”

“Right.” He turned to face her, the orange rays of the sun backlighting him, a golden corona forming about him. His face was blank, a calm practiced look of boredom, but his eyes seemed to be alight with something more. His voice, when he spoke again, betrayed the bitter edge of anger. “It’s fine. I’ve heard it before. Actors are just parrots, right? They look pretty and showy and repeat whatever lines they are taught but understanding those lines is beyond them. We’re just a bunch of ridiculous boys and plasticized bimbos who drink too much, party too much and make way too much money for standing around playing pretend like a bunch of preschoolers. Look, I’m sorry I got you out of your reception.”

“Wait a minute,” she stood up. “That isn’t what I meant and I certainly never said those things. It seems to me that if anyone is jumping to stereotypes here, it’s you. I’m a writer so I must be self-important and egotistical? I must be absolutely certain that every word that falls from my pen is pure genius? Someone’s ego is involved here but I don’t think it’s mine.”

He just looked at her, his brow creasing, slight confusion etched on his face. The hurt was still in those dark eyes, and it was as if he wasn’t entirely sure he was really hearing the words she was saying.

“Look when I said I didn’t expect someone like you to have read my book I meant I didn’t expect it would even be noticed by someone like you. It’s an obscure piece of drivel by an unknown author who only got invited today because she’s a local girl. Hell, if I hadn’t been a volunteer for this convention for the last few years no one here would have given me the time of day.” She wanted him to believe her. Wanted it badly. For some reason it mattered a great deal that he believe she hadn’t been demeaning his intelligence. “I can’t believe any of those people today actually took time out of their lives to read my book, let alone someone like you who has people pulling him in a hundred directions every minute of the day.”

He pursed his lips and his head dropped. Silence filled the room for a long moment as he stared down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m a bit raw from that confrontation downstairs. You might be surprised how often I get that. Not just what that guy said, but the whole thing. I was a marketing tool today. A new and improved product. Bright and shiny, tell your friends. I was being used to sell this conference, to sell the books of every person on that panel. When you first start out it’s sort of cool, look at me and the power my face has. But after a while it gets old.” He lifted wary eyes to hers. “I’m sorry. I made assumptions that were incorrect.”

She simply nodded. The truth in what he was saying was overwhelming. He was right. Every person there today had treated him like the leggy, breasty bimbo who points to the new model of car and says, “Pretty.” Her included. All she had seen was Him. Her first thoughts, if she were honest with herself, had been about the exposure and the attendance this panel was likely to get. Okay, not really. That was her second thought. Her first thought had been that of a giggling fourteen-year-old teenager who was just told she was going to meet her idol. The great movie star whose presence seemed to turn something inside her to jelly. No, not jelly, lava. Red-hot, cascading, chocolate flavored, lava. Sudden thoughts of the possible uses for warm liquid chocolate filled her mind along with the image of herself lapping up said chocolate. Her face, and everything else, grew even warmer.

Meet My Guys

Yesterday I participated in a chat loop to kick off the Valentine’s contest. While chatting I was posting excerpts from some of my books, and enjoyed telling folks on the loop to my guys. So I thought I’d spend a few days indulging my multiple personalities and introducing people to my guys. Whether their stories are credited to Jae or Elyssa, they’re my boys.

I’ve said before that my stories are often driven by the male characters. No, not often, always. They are the ones who pop into my mind first, they tell me their stories and introduce me to the people in their lives. They whisper in my hear, argue with me, pout, fuss and sulk when I don’t get it right or don’t write for them that day and they open up their souls to my inspection. My men may not be corporeal, but each one of them is special.

Alejandro Ramirez
Half Human/Half Were-Cougar
Age: 51 (looks about 28)

Alejandro is the son of a She-Cougar and a human man. Though not the only kitten in his litter, he was the only one with human blood. When he experienced his first transformation, as is the way of the Cougars, his mother sent him out with nothing but a few dollars in his pocket and his human father’s driver’s license. A souvenir of their tryst.

Taken in by his human family, Alejandro finds a life that his human half craves, but his Cougar half can never fully accept. Male Cougars do not form families. They are solitary creatures who hunt, mate and defend their territory. When he finds himself responsible for a small Were child he has no choice but ask the Were world for help. They send him to a human. But Brie has secrets that could get them all killed.

As his human need for love and family war with his Cougar heritage, he finds that the family he really wants includes Brie and the child they are working together to heal.

Excerpt:

The man who sat in the corner booth this early afternoon was certainly no college boy. He also wasn’t one of the park staff. But he could easily have been one of the regulars. His tightly set jaw cut a clean, slightly squared line. The long hair was loose and reached his shoulders, a red bandana tied around his forehead to keep it out of his eyes. The mixture of medium brown and golden strands gave the hair the color of richly polished maple. He was a bit pretty for this neck of the woods but there was something dangerous and hard about him that warned everyone a harsh penalty would be extracted from anyone who pissed him off.

Henry continued to eye him warily until a familiar voice called out as its owner entered the door. “Hey old man, you still alive?” Henry scowled at the speaker and immediately opened a bottle.

“Haven’t you been eaten by a gator yet, asshole?” He slid the beer down the bar to where the new arrival stood grinning at him.

“Naw but keep prayin’. Between you and my ex-wife, maybe you’ll get lucky.” He picked up his bottle and stepped away from the bar.

“I’ve seen your ex-wife, Eddie-boy. Just hearing her, me and getting lucky in the same sentence is enough to make me swallow drain cleaner,” Henry snorted. Poor kid couldn’t be over thirty and he had one hell of bitch nipping at his heels.

Eddie grimaced, “Where were you with your sage advice before I said I do?”

“As I remember it, every male in the family tried to stop you and you threatened to kick the hell out of all of us,” the deep voice rumbled up from the booth in the corner.

Eddie pushed his black hair out of his eyes and his face grew serious, his voice hard. “This good-for-nothing giving you trouble, Henry?”

The bartender glanced between the two men. He’d never heard Eduardo Ramirez speak a harsh word to anyone. Even in the midst of a fight, Eddie’s smile was fixed on his face and he used his quick tongue to strike as many blows as his fists. The man stood up and Henry reached carefully for the handgun that sat beneath a stack of towels on the shelf under the bar. If this guy messed with one of his customers, he’d be sorry.

Eddie slowly approached the man who was two to three inches taller than he and much leaner. He looked like a seasoned predator, one made hard by the struggle to survive. The smaller man was broader but Henry’s experienced eye told him who would be the more deadly if trouble broke out and it wouldn’t be Eddie.

The two men stood, eyes locked and bodies held stiff. “You look like shit,” Eddie snorted reaching out and grabbing the other man into a quick embrace.

At the hard, two handed slap on the back a hint of a smile broke out on the tall man’s face, a faint curl of the lip that almost looked like a snarl. “Let go of me, cabron.” The man pulled away and sat back down.

Eddie laughed again and looked over at the older man whose tension was almost tangible. “It’s okay, Henry. Alejandro has been calling me a lot worse for years.” Eddie slid into the booth, “Still a friggin’ ray of sunshine aren’t you, hermano?”

Sunglasses lowered to reveal golden brown eyes only a shade darker than the man’s hair. “I’m sitting in a dive in the middle of the Everglades and you know how much I hate the Everglades,” he glanced up to see the bartender standing close enough to hear, while trying to seem as if he weren’t hanging on every word. Both of the old man’s hands were now visible above the bar. Alejandro breathed a sigh of relief. He’d known there was a weapon back there and he’d have hated to have had to hurt the old man had he decided to use it. He’d have hated it but he wouldn’t have hesitated, not if it meant protecting his brother or himself. He met Eddie’s eyes and held them intently. The dark chocolate eyes of the other man widened in surprise as the next words sounded in his mind and not his ears.

Not to mention it’s not even noon yet and I’m walking on two legs instead of four. The frown deepened. So this better be good, little boy.

Eddie shook himself breaking eye contact. He squirmed for a moment in his seat as if he’d gotten a sudden chill. “I hate when you do that, man.”

Alejandro slipped the glasses into the pocket of his leather jacket, glanced back up at the bar and jerked his head toward the back of the room. “Let’s go play pool.”

His brother looked at him surprised. “You hate playing pool. Come to think of it is there anything you don’t hate?”

“Your parents,” the deep voice said briskly as Alejandro stood and walked to the back of the room. He paused and looked back toward Eddie. So unless you want to discuss this important business in front of the old man, get back here.

Eddie followed and muttered as he stepped past him to pull a cue off the wall, “You do that because I hate it, don’t you.”

“Sometimes,” came the cryptic reply.

(Photos of Alej are courtesy of Antonio Banderas only he doesn't know it.)

Now How to Win Free Books!

Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire? Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –1st prize--5 books

2nd prize--3 books

3rd prize--2 books
Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle

Defending the Honor of the Modern Man

Contest first, rant later...


Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire? Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –
1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle

Many of these authors will also be participating in a chat at Loves Romances Cafe on February 4th. If you haven't signed up do so now! LoveRomancesCafe-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

And now the ranting begins:

I find myself flabbergasted, disappointed and angry on behalf of the men in my life. While recently reading an erotic romance I ran across the following line:

“To men, physical love and emotional love are one and the same.”

This was the advice of a mother to a daughter when her daughter expressed her concerns that her mate had not told her he loved her and spoke of love only as an action verb. I had a visceral reaction to this comment.

I don’t say this to brag or to seem like an expert, but I’m usually spot on about guys. They seem so simple to me —not intellectually but in terms of understanding what they are thinking and saying. A friend of mine commented, after reading my novels, that my male characters are among the most realistic he’s seen and that he could identify with them even if it was a romance novel and not his usual fare. It seems I only fail in his esteem when it comes to relating the man’s thoughts during sex, which my friend says are generally very basic and not very romantic. I must admit this flaw is intentional, I'm writing for women readers as a rule.

Perhaps the writer meant that men express emotional love physically. They do. Men are very driven by the physical. Absolutely. And as women are no longer taught to fear and feel shame over their own sexuality, needs and desires, we are also becoming more rooted in the physical. Look at the skyrocketing rise of erotic romance. Such things were beyond comprehension fifty years ago. Men might sneak naughty magazines but women? Never. Look at the number of women who are openly engaged in extramarital sex, premarital sex or “no way in hell I’m marrying this dude, but let’s have some fun” sex.

Back to my point. Men are physical, and we as women understand that a great deal of how they express what they feel is done physically. Often the time men best know how to and feel comfortable expressing their love and affection for their partner is during sex or sex play. This does not mean that men don’t know the difference between physical lovemaking and emotional love. It does not mean that they are one in the same. To claim such cheapens all male/female, and especially male/male, relationships. It is this attitude that perpetuates the idea that gay male relationships are merely about the physical act of love, making it easy to marginalize their relationships and make their needs and feelings base, crude and unimportant.

It is insulting. It is insulting to men and to those who love them to say that the men’s emotional loving is the same as the physical. Can you honestly say you don’t know a man who doesn’t know the difference between a hard on and love? Look at the clichéd excuse for infidelity, “Honey, it didn’t mean anything. It was just sex.” Men understand the difference. They feel the difference. To claim otherwise demeans them.

It demeans the man who spends twenty-five years at the side of his wife. Raised to be a “man” he doesn’t show affection where anyone else can see. But when she dies from heart disease as he kneels by her bedside, the tears falling from his eyes don’t come because he is sorry he will miss her in his bed, but because his heart is breaking.