Let’s start with a good review for Mating Stone. Amelia Richard at Sensual reviewed Mating Stone and said:

For her new series, Elyssa Edwards crafts a tale where shape-shifters can seem totally normal yet their lives are definitely fascinating. Ms. Edwards takes the paranormal element of being able to change shapes and tells readers a captivating love story with often poignant emotions. Mark and Sarah are a charming couple with their devotion to each other particularly apparent through their actions and words. With tenderness and passion, this couple expresses how they truly feel for each other, and these sentiments are beautifully shown in numerous ways. The inner feelings of these two come across in a powerful way, whether they are reacting with each other or with another being. There are some disclosures which I found to be intriguing, and each one adds a compelling aspect throughout the story. The only problem with the story is I wish it had been longer as this world fascinates me, but I hope to hear more about this couple and those around them when additional books in the series are released. MATING STONE is a magical story with original characters and an engaging plot to keep readers thoroughly entertained.

Thank you, Amelia. I’ve had a lot of fun writing this series which is officially called The Jewels of Ursus. These are three special guys I’m very happy decided to tell me their stories. The sequel to Mating Stone, Lovers’ Stone will be released in July and tells the story of Luke Ursine, Mark’s twin brother. The final book in the trilogy, to be titled Soul Stone, will tell the story of Tarris Ursine, the incubus who is closer than family to Mark and Luke and who appears in both Mating Stone and Lovers’ Stone. Oh, and the last one will be full novel length.

Oh and by the way, if you are looking for a story in the same world as the Ursines, Measure of Healing from Cerridwen Press may do the trick. Whether it’s Jacqueline or Elyssa, our Weres happily cohabitate the world.

I know the review says The Stones Series and that’s not the writer’s fault. I’ve recently discovered a problem with my website not updating a specific page and the working title is still showing.

Mating Stone:

Our hero:

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:

The night they met had been her birthday. She’d let her sister and some friends talk her into going to a club to celebrate. “Come on Sarah, it’s February 2. It’s your twenty-eighth birthday, so do what all good little groundhogs do and get out. Even if you see your shadow, at least you had fun before you run back and hibernate some more,” her sister had teased until she’d agreed.

She’d not met Mark at the club but afterwards on her way home. Hitting a pothole had blown her tire and while she could change a tire herself—hell, like any good ol’ Minnesota girl she could change a tire, put on her own snow chains and knew how to use the jumper cables in her trunk—she just didn’t relish doing it in the short skirt her sister had talked her into wearing.

Resigning herself to ruining her stockings and probably the new skirt, she’d been hauling the jack and donut from the trunk when a motorcycle had roared up behind her. The headlight had almost blinded her but not as much as what stepped out into the light. Pulling a black helmet from his head the man had been devastating. His black jeans and leather jacket completed a monochromatic feast for the eyes.

Flashing her a smile almost as bright as his headlight he’d insisted he couldn’t let a lady like her change the tire. He’d made short work of the flat even if she did stand there like an idiot and chatter way. By the time he was done he knew it was her birthday and where she’d been. If it had taken any longer she’d hated to think what else would have come bubbling out of her mouth.

He packed her jack back into her trunk and asked her allow him to follow her home since he didn’t have much confidence in the small rubber tire. When she’d hesitated he’d pulled out his driver’s license and a credit card. He put them in her hands. “Hold on to these. If you get spooked at all you know who I am, where I live and can either call the police or charge a fortune for yourself in compensation.”

When they’d arrived at her place she handed them over and smiled nervously. “Thank you just doesn’t seem like enough,” she nodded down to the damp patches on his knees where he’d knelt in the wet snow alongside the road.

“Then have dinner with me tomorrow,” he’d flashed an encouraging smile and she felt as if her bones melted. “That’s all the thanks I need.”

She agreed and had started to walk away when he called out to her. He was pulling something from the storage compartment under the seat and walked quickly up to her. His long legged strides held her so transfixed she didn’t see what he had in his hands. He stopped in front of her and hesitated. She looked up at him. He suddenly seemed shy and uncertain, grinning up at her through the hair that had fallen over his forehead.

“Happy Birthday, Sarah.” He placed a single red rose in her hand. His quick kiss to her cheek was so soft and so fast that she almost missed it. By the time her fingers rose up to touch where he had pressed his lips to her skin, he was back on his bike, turning it and roaring away. Odd but only now did it occur to her to question where on earth he’d gotten the rose.

Bad Blogging Habits

I've developed bad blogging habits.

I forget to blog and then it seems as if time gets away from me. It's been a stressful week at work and the nausea just doesn't seem to stop. Everyone just laughs knowingly and tells me it's to be expected. I then get to hear all kinds of stories about how when they were pregnant they and their spouse had morning sickness. One friend even told me her husband gained weight with her. I guess the concept of spousal sympathetic morning sickness is more widespread than I'd realized. And yes, we are both suffering from bouts of the nausea.

We're currently trying to decide on how to decorate the nursery. My precious one had a great idea the other day. Children's book characters. With a generic background we could paint book characters around the walls. These could be updated as the child grew up and would be okay until about age 10 or so. We're talking about starting with our favorites such as The Pigeon from Mo' Willems series and Nuffle Bunny as well. There is also Max and Ruby and we can stay pretty neutral in terms of gender.

Okay, I'm off to work on the current WIP.

If I forgot to tell anyone, the previous WIP-Tarris's story from the trilogy about the Ursines- has been accepted for contract by Ellora's Cave. Soul Stone won't be a Jewel as Mating Stone was and Lovers' Stone will be (July), but will stand alone. The series has gotten a new name and I need to update that on my website. The series is now knowns as Jewels of Ursus. Ursus is Latin for Bear and even if Tarris isn't a Bear, his destiny is still tied to the other Bears.

I'll make sure I post the cover and the release date when I have them. I'm excited about Tarris. He was a very different character for me to work with.

The current WIP has a rather unlikely hero. He's not an Alpha Male in the typical fashion. In fact you probably couldn't find a more easy going guy than Evan. At least at the start of the story. This one will be a follow up to Measure of Healing that was a January Cerridwen Press release as Jacqueline Roth. It follows the young female Wolf at the end of that story. I've actually been working on this story off and on for several years. Evan is one of my favorite heroes, but this story has one of my favorite all time characters, Alexi. Alexi is big, loud and absolutely, positively certain that he is always right. He's just so blasted affiable it's hard to be angry at him.

Radio Free Mars

Oops! I thought I updated here yesterday but it seems I didn't.

Friday is the deadline for the contest. I’m looking forward to going through the entries. The contest is to celebrate the release of Mating Stone by Ellora’s Cave.

The hero of Mating Stone, Mark Ursine is a Were-Bear as is his twin brother Luke the hero of the upcoming July release, Lovers’ Stone. The Ursines present their lady loves with stones rather than engagement rings. For Mark and Sarah it’s an amethyst. So to win the 17” freshwater pearl and amethyst necklace here’s what you need to do. Write a brief answer to the following question and send it to ElyssaWrites@aol.com with “Mating Stone Contest” in the subject line. I’ll pick the best response as the winner, and two honorable mentions to receive smaller prizes. The winning entries will appear in my blog on April 13th.

In Mating Stone, Mark falls in love with Sarah. Sarah, a young human woman who has no idea that Were’s even exist beyond novels and movies. Strictly fictional. As a human woman, how do you react when Mr. Yummy tells you he’s the one with claws and may just leave fur on the sheets? So tell me: What type of Were is Mr. Wonderful and how does he break it to you?


I’m still wired up. I'm in the midst of an ambulatory EEG that has me looking like the Borg Queen with wires coming out of my head and a small battery pack on one side. I’m on day two and a half and the crap news is I have one more day and night to go. Let me tell you, you haven’t slept until you’ve tried to sleep with about five pounds of wires, electrodes, gauze and tape on your head without messing it up. And that doesn’t even begin to cover the joys of having a chin strap to the headgear so it doesn’t pull off at night and having to watch out for the box everything is attached to.

The cord is only about 2, 2 ½ feet long so it doesn’t give you much stretch. And the damned adhesive is starting to itch which isn’t helped by the fact that I haven’t been able to wash my hair since Monday morning. Did manage a bath last night but it was worthy of America’s Funniest Home Videos to watch me try to bath while the SO stands over me holding the circuitry out of the way. I’d say I owed my darling big time, but the chuckles at my bizarre appearance should about cover it.

I’m also pretty much stuck in the house and nature had been a real bitch because it’s been absolutely beautiful. I could be getting so much gardening done. *sigh* Usually on my spring break I go into town. Into Atlanta I mean. I’m technically OTP (Outside the Perimeter) which to someone from the ATL translates to hick or leper, and to the rest of the world it means I live outside the I285 loop around the city. We have a nice little neighborhood that unfortunately is rather harshly infested with HOA disease. (Home Owners Association) Now I have no gripe with most HOAs. They keep up common areas, make sure no one turns their yard into a flea market or graveyard for old automobiles and represent the residents on zoning issues and the like.

But I do have a gripe with our particular HOA. We no longer belong because we didn’t see eye to eye with several of the members and didn’t like the way certain neighbors went about settling differences of opinion. Threatening to cite my house because I don’t vote your way or give you my proxy only makes me pissed off and nasty. Not all of us are retired and have nothing to do all day but work on our homes. Not all of us have the money for a new coat of paint every couple of years. And some of us are such monumental klutzes that we have spent most of the last year unable to do most yard work. (All in one year: broken foot x2 and a dislocated knee- I’m talented folks. If there’s a chance I can injure myself I will.)

Anyway, It’s another lovely day in the neighborhood. The pollen is coating everything, the sun is shining, my cocker spaniel is whimpering out the back door because she’s just sure if mom would let her out she could catch that train going by and my birds are about to find out what it’s like to be born free if they don’t stop imitating the blasted house alarm. No, I wouldn’t really do that. Do not send me hate mail and animal rights information. I know Pip and Green-bird could not possibly survive on their own. Besides I live with flippin’ Marlin Perkins who names snails, insists they play and gets very upset with me when they die.

I had a point… Oh, yeah. Now I remember. The only thing I can say about being stuck like this is that it’s given me time to write and time to read. We won’t talk about the book I’m currently trying to wade through. It is for my book group and it frankly sucks. But I have gotten to read a good one recently. Before I picked up “My Writer is Pretentious and Boring so So am I,” I read a great Cerridwen Press book.

Blame it on the Ghost by Delia Carnell was one I picked up on impulse and I’m very glad I did. The story was well written and nicely paced. Romance writer Amberly Ross finds herself the victim of a mix up when she and horror writer Dylan Hart are both asked to house sit for a mutual friend. The friend can’t be reached to clear it up, so the only choice is to try to cohabitate without killing each other. Sparks fly in more ways than one and soon the reader is drawn into the story that pushes the two reluctant writers together with a little paranormal help. Is the beach house really haunted? And if so, is the ghost responsible for playing matchmaker?

I really enjoyed the dialogue between the two characters. When writing a book like this, it is easy to go overboard on the animosity and create a battle of wits that eventually begins to annoy the hell out of the reader. The heroine turns bitchy and hard and the hero turns into an ass. Carnell avoids this and rips open her characters to show us the gooey, hurting centers of those hard shells. I highly recommend this one.

Okay, back to writing. I have a werewolf having a rather nasty argument with his mate and I need to get back to them before Evan does something stupid. This is the follow up to Measure of Healing and he has to be the most out of control character I’ve ever dealt with. Evan has been jerking me around for a while now, suddenly insisting that I write this, or that I forgot that scene where he… Just when I’ve got the pacing down and know what happens next he throws me a curve. Wolves! Mages! All are pains in the…

God's Name in Vane

When I signed on to my AOL account today, the big news was the removal of 52 young girls from a fundamentalist Christian camp in Texas. According to the story girls from the ages of 6 months to 17 years were taken into temporary custody while the state investigated allegations of physical abuse made by one of the girls. In the end 18 girls were put into State custody.

There are several elements of this story I found disturbing. First of all, the allegations include that at least two sixteen year-olds were married to older relatives and that this was facilitated by the head of their church. In fact, the article I read indicated that one of the 16 year-olds had been married off to a 50 year old man. There were indications of polygamy. Now I’m a big supporter of the First Amendment. I believe in the separation of church and state. I don’t think the government has a right to tell me how to pray or what to believe. I’m not all that upset by polygamy as long as the people are consenting adults and are not being coerced. That’s their business. I also don’t think the government has any business in someone’s bedroom or telling people how to raise their children. Unless people are getting hurt and if the allegations in this case are true, it seems that that is the case.

I know I’m gonna take flack for this. I know I’m going to make someone angry. I know that in times past it wasn’t uncommon for there to be arranged marriages. I know it wasn’t uncommon for a 16 year-old to be married and even married to an older man. I know someone will tell me about their grandmother who was married at 14 to a man 4 times her age and how it was a loving and happy marriage.

But if the allegations are true this is just wrong. There is a big difference between a 16 year-old girl marrying her 18 year old boyfriend because they were too stupid, arrogant or afraid to use birth control. In my eyes, if that’s why they’re getting married it’s not exactly a good idea either.

Another question that this raised was “What about the boys?” Girls were removed, but what about the boys involved in this group? Was it that they had no evidence or suspicion of physical abuse to the boys? If so, and they truly believe the girls were in danger, then the State people are stupid. Systemic abuse, which is what seems to be being alleged here, is not discriminatory. If the girls are being physically harmed, so are the boys.

This brings up a subject no one in our society wants to talk about, one we are so loath to consider that we rationalize it away. Males can be victims of sexual abuse. While we all intellectually know this to be true, it is a strong message in our society that there is a distinct difference between sexual abuse perpetrated against a girl and that which targets a boy. We as a society have been fighting back against the stigma that a woman or girl “asked for” the abuse or rape. We see them as victims.

We don’t often afford men and boys the same consideration. If a man reports a rape, the associated stigma is much stronger. So strong that the majority of male victims never report sexual assaults for fear of being ridiculed, thought to be weak or even worse in some people’s eyes, being labeled homosexual. If a girl of 15 or 16 is seduced by an older man, we see that as a crime. If a boy of 15 or 16 is seduced by an older woman, people don’t react the same way. The reaction is often one of “lucky boy.” Maybe this is why stories of female teachers engaging in inappropriate relations with their students get national news coverage, while male teachers are often limited to the local paper. Society finds it titillating and shocking to see a woman as an abuser.

The final issue this story raised for me was one of sympathy. Sympathy for the fundamentalist Christians who so often are painted with the same brush as those who engage in behavior that is scandalous, immoral or illegal. Stories like this can perpetuate the image of Christian groups as “crazy” or hypocritical. And it is often made worse by the comments of people who respond to blogs and stories online. When people see a story like this one, one in which no one has been convicted of a crime. One in which we are talking about a small fringe element, it reinforces the negative stereotype of Christians as intolerant and clandestinely sick or depraved. When someone posts a comment on a blog blasting one or another minority group or individual and using God as a justification, it can harden the hearts of the world against Christians as a whole.

None of us can control the extremists or crazies of groups to which we belong. As a Christian I’m appalled and horrified that anyone would use God and the loving message of Jesus to justify harming anyone. So as a Christian I have a message for those extremists. Stop using Jesus as an excuse to be a narrow-minded, bigoted, depraved asshole. And yes, I just cussed. Somehow, I think God will understand.


Reminder, the contest is still going and I’m getting some very creative answers. Don’t be shy, it only takes a moment to enter. You can enter up 'til April 11th to win the 17" double strand of freshwater pearls and amethyst beads. The contest is to celebrate the wonderful response of readers and reviewers to Mating Stone. In Mating Stone, Mark falls in love with Sarah. Sarah, a young human woman who has no idea that Were’s even exist beyond novels and movies. Strictly fictional. As a human woman, how do you react when your Mr. Yummy tells you he’s the one with claws and may just leave fur on the sheets? So tell me: What type of Were is Mr. Wonderful and how does he break it to you? Email your answer to ElyssaWrites@aol.com

Remembering Safety Dog

Today starts with very sad news. I received word from my ex that our dog Henry passed away early this morning. Henry was a 14 year old pug that was absolutely devoted to my ex and so custody was never an issue for us. I got generous visitation for the last 5 years, but it certainly wasn’t enough. Henry is the last of the first generation of my four legged children to leave us. They were the companions of my early adulthood and what seems like a whole lifetime past.

When we brought home our little pug puppy, he rode tucked into my ex’s jacket. I held him and started talking to him while waiting for my ex to come out of the store where we had stopped to pick up puppy food. We had an adult pug at home named Tootsie, but had read that pugs, in particular, get very lonely if they don’t have company. As I talked to the pup, going over a list of possible names to discuss I hit upon a family joke. When the eldest of my brothers was preparing to enter the world, my mother wanted to name him after his father. My stepfather refused. So they couldn’t settle on a name for him. My stepfather finally took to saying that he was just going to name the baby Henry Kissinger and be done with it. (This was the late 70’s.) My mother had fits, but still they couldn’t decide.

My brother was born caesarian section and my mother was under general anesthetic. As it would happen, my stepfather was also an inpatient at the time undergoing a rather serious back surgery. He’d fallen off a roof. My poor grandfather was running up and down the elevators between the maternity ward and the surgical ward. When my mother came out of anesthetic, my grandfather and stepfather played a cruel joke. My grandfather told her that because she was out of it, the nurses asked my stepfather what to name the baby and that her first son was now officially Henry Kissinger Neubig. He of course had not. He’d relented at the last and my brother became a number II.

Naming things Henry became a joke in my family. So as I’m holding the pup and thinking about it, I finally blurted out, “Well I guess we could just call you Henry.” I was stunned when the little pup lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye. He gazed at me for a moment and then lowered his head again and rooted for a comfortable spot to snooze. I giggled a bit and asked, “Is your name Henry? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Again he lifted his little head and met my eye. This was not a response to my voice. I’d been talking out loud to him for a while at that point. I always talk to my pets. When my ex returned to the car and I explained what had happened it was agreed. His name was Henry.

Henry was the roundest puppy you ever saw. His little fat belly nearly touched the ground. He soon earned the AKC registration name of “Fat boy Henry.”

His more enduring and endearing trait would lead to his long standing nickname, one that even earned him his own song. Safety Dog.

Henry was rather nervous by nature and often seemed to look upon any unusual event or happening with an eye to it’s potential danger. He seemed to sense that his master, my ex, was essentially a clutz. When the lawnmower came out, he hid. When a power tool was plugged in, he’d come running to me, his alpha dog, with a worried expression creasing his little forehead and a face that seemed to say, “Do you know what the beta dog is doing now?” In all fairness to Henry, his master had managed to nearly take off a foot with the lawnmower on one occasion and frequently had cuts and scratches from other simple activities. His concern was warranted.

Safety dog’s most memorable lessons in life involved water. Water was not Henry’s friend. We took him fishing one day. He was on his leash and was snuffling his way hurriedly down the dock. Nose to wood he hustled along, sniffing, sniffing, sniffing…plop! He sniffed himself right over the edge. I grabbed the lease and his master dropped to the dock and lifted him out. When he was eye level to his beta dog, the look on his face had both his human’s laughing so hard his master couldn’t even lift him out of the water.

On another occasion his extra bulk broke the ice on a ditch causing Tootsie and him to drop into the icy water. The beta dog went in after them thinking it was only a shallow ditch. Wrong. The ditch was a good 6 feet deep and filled with freezing water. There was no laughing that day.

So with tears and sadness I say goodbye to Henry. Henry, who never met food he didn’t like. Henry, who snored loudly on the pillow next to his master’s head every night. Henry, who would give a grudging sigh and patiently put up with the antics of his large and goofy Rottweiler brother, Koeby. Goodbye Safety Dog. Toostie will be waiting to boss you about. Koeby will be waiting to welcome you and introduce you to all his squirrel friends. And Wallie. Sweet Baby Wallie will be waiting to give you a wag, a big lick on the face and to commiserate with you the chore of spending an eternity with Koeby.

Now, in honor of Safety Dog, his song to the tune of Born to be Wild. Sing along.

Get your motor running
Always wear your seatbelt
Don’t forget your helmet
It’s the law in Illinois

Born to be mild.

Always obey the leash law
Never play in the street
Don’t chase the motorcycles
Or they’re gonna squish your head

Born to be mild

Now, a reminder about the contest.

You can enter up 'til April 11th to win the 17" double strand of freshwater pearls and amethyst beads. The contest is to celebrate the wonderful response of readers and reviewers to Mating Stone. In Mating Stone, Mark falls in love with Sarah. Sarah, a young human woman who has no idea that Were’s even exist beyond novels and movies. Strictly fictional. As a human woman, how do you react when your Mr. Yummy tells you he’s the one with claws and may just leave fur on the sheets? So tell me: What type of Were is Mr. Wonderful and how does he break it to you?

Email you answer to ElyssaWrites@aol.com

Proud Romance Reader

Don’t let anyone ever discount romance novels or their readers. I confess to you shamefacedly that I was once a closet romance reader. I once allowed myself to be embarrassed by my penchant for the genre.

It wasn’t always that way. I think my love of romances, stories about love and the relationships between people, began in what might seem an unlikely place. It began with the chickenpox. I got the chickenpox when I was 9 or 10 years old. My Aunt Jo had me and three of my younger sisters as my mom was having gallbladder surgery. Surprise! We all three developed the lovely virus.

To keep us entertained my grandparents brought us books, coloring books, crayons and other things to do with little hands so they didn’t scratch. In between oatmeal baths and being doused in nasty smelling calamine lotion, I dove into the book my grandfather had brought me. Little Women.

Now it may seem odd to some to give a 10 year old Little Women. First of all I’d always been a strong reader. Growing up wasn’t pony rides and party dresses for our family. Reading helped me forget. Secondly, it was just my grandfather’s way. He was always bringing me books that were supposed to be way too advanced. It was he who planted the idea in my head I could be anything I wanted.

Back to romances. I loved the story of Little Women though I frankly think Teddy got short changed. Amy? I thought Jo was crazy for refusing him until Professor Baer came into the picture. Even at that age I understood the difference.

In middle school, my friend Trina introduced me to Harlequins. Back then the girls were always virgins and the couple never had sex until they were married. And the sex was vivid descriptions of kissing, his hands touching her back or face and then of course she would nearly faint as he “showed her the greatest of all pleasures a woman could know, one only a man could give her.”

When exactly did romance develop negative connotations? And why? Why when I sit in a café or at the lunch table do I feel compelled to put a book cover or a sticky note over the cover of the book? When, how and why did I let society do this to me? Why should I feel embarrassed?

Well, no more. I’m not going to hide my books. So come on now, throw out those old book covers, stop bending back the covers on the books. Be a romance reader and be a proud one!

Of course trying to read erotica in a public place will still make me blush. I’m still recovering from the decision to read Anny Cook’s Chrysanthemum while in a hotel restaurant. I guess I’m a work in progress.

So recommendations then? Yep, I finished two good ones yesterday.

Time for Love
by Kelly Kirch
From Cerridwen Press
This is a great Regency era with a time travel twist.

Sarah is transported back in time and into the life of a Regency era widow who is supposed to be acting as the chaperone to a young cousin in her first London season. As difficult as that may be, it’s complicated by her growing attraction to a known rake, Lord Hayworth. He’s sexy, seductive and obviously attracted to Sarah. Unfortunately he’s also very much promised to her young cousin.

Sarah and Drake are great characters. You want to cheer for them. Well done, Ms. Kirch!







Honeysuckle
By Anny Cook
From Ellora's Cave

Anny Cook has become one of my favorite writers in the past year since I signed my first contract with Cerridwen Press and discovered the wonderful world of ebooks. Honeysuckle is a hot, steamy sequel to Chrysathemum. I don’t think I’ve run across something that has made me laugh and fan myself so much.

Honeysuckle doesn’t believe one man could ever be enough, but it seems to be her fate as her father seeks to marry her off. Enter two gorgeous men who see in Honeysuckle exactly the woman they’ve been dreaming of. Peter and Dick Hieney have waited all their lives for a woman like this and aren’t about to let her get away. More than woman enough to keep them both on their toes, she goes with them. But convincing her to marry them amidst a plot to end the rule of King Arthur, while battling an evil sorceress, and the temptation of beautiful studdly men who just happen to be unicorns? That might not be so easy.

And its given me a new crush. They may be twins but I could choose. The sign of great characterization. They came alive as individuals. (Oh, and the ending is priceless. Poor Blessing. Poor Peter.)

Stayed up all night reading…

It’s been a while since I’ve done that, but I finally wrestled the latest Sherrilyn Kenyon book away from my SO who loves the paranormal adventure and vampire butt-kicking but skims over the “icky parts.” Needless to say I enjoyed Dream Chaser a great deal. It’s the last taste of the Dark Hunters before Kenyon finally delivers on the one we’ve all been waiting for: Acheron’s book.

I liked the hero, Xypher, this time around much better than I have the last couple of guys. But since my favorites include Zarek, Fury, Wren…yep guess I like them seriously screwed up. Bring on the borderline-sociopaths with a soft spot. But hide it deep. Odd since if you asked me my absolute fav. Kenyon guy I’d go hands down for Vane. Any guy who looks at a size 18 woman with serious drooling, ‘gotta have me that lust’ gets my vote.

After basking in the good story afterglow for a bit, I started trying to figure out the twists and turns she’s given us. Kenyon doesn’t seem to do anything incidentally or accidentally. I admit it. I’m friggin’ dying to know how Kyle Peltier, a young Katagari (Were), is walking around in broad daylight when he should barely be able to hold a human form at his age in the daylight. Just a couple of books ago he was still shifting back to animal form when his brother threw meat at him because he couldn’t control it. Is she pulling a Vane/Fury on us?

But now that I’ve done the basking and the wondering I’m going to do what was recommended in a recent workshop. I’m going to dissect this and figure out how she does it. Or that’s the theory anyway. How does she create pacing that keeps you turning the pages at 2am? How does she manipulate the plot so as to keep you hooked and sucked in for book after book after book?How does she create her characters so realistically and yet perfectly that you want to knock down the heroine and take him for yourself? (I’m telling you, Vane’s mate would be in serious trouble if he was corporeal. Zarek’s is a goddess and even I’m not that stupid.)

If I figure it out, I’ll let ya know.

Now an excerpt from a little Were story. Measure of Healing is available through Cerridwen Press.


“Now,” [Brie] turned from him, walked up to the wall just outside the boy’s room and placed her hand on it. “If you’re here to help, here’s the first thing you can do for me.” She turned to look at him.

“What?” she seemed to have completely abandoned the antagonistic posture of just moments ago. Her mouth was actually turned up at one corner in what was almost a grin. He moved over to where she stood. He saw a rectangular shape drawn on the wall in pencil.

“I need a two way mirror here,” she pointed to the drawing.

“I don’t have my tools with me,” he shook his head puzzled, “I left everything in my father’s workshop.”

It was her turn to look confused. He explained. “Unless you have the equipment we’re stuck. Besides, I’m not sure the kid would appreciate us remodeling around him.”

She laughed. “Cougar, I wasn’t asking you to install a two way mirror, I was asking you to create one. You know? Magic?”

So she knew about the magic. Very few of the gifted humans knew that any of the Weres could wield magic. It was one of the rules of the council. They weren’t to perform magic before humans. Rules were broken all the time but this was one the Cougars were hesitant to break. In the back of his people’s minds lived the fear that some day the council would find a way and a reason to take the magic away from those Weres who had refused to relinquish it. It would lead to war as the Cougars would not let it go easily. So far their Domini had clung to the right for all Weres, insisting that those who turned their backs on the magic were fools. The current Dominus had told the council to go to hell when they suggested the Cougars cut back on the reliance of their people on the powers they had brought with them into the human world.

“Right.” Alejandro ran his hand through his hair and shook his head He pressed his hand to the wall and focused. Slowly he drew the outline of the area with one finger. As his hand moved a trail of silver lay in its wake. Once the outline was completed, he placed his hand in the center of the box and the interior changed. It was now transparent and he could see the room on the other side. The boy slept quietly in his box.

“Thank you,” Brie gave him a soft smile. “This will make it easier.” She turned away from him and walked to the end of the hall. “Why don’t I show you were you’ll sleep, then we can find you something to eat.”

He nodded. He was starving and exhausted. He’d had little time before her arrival that evening. Just enough to throw some things in a bag, gulp down a bit of dinner and be ready. He’d had to spend most of the day at his father’s office dealing with one of the more unsavory construction companies his father was forced to sub-contract with by the economic conditions.

The Ramirez family was in demand for their work on hardwood flooring and custom cabinetry. Given the nocturnal nature of his animal side, he usually spent the bulk of his days sleeping and late afternoons and nights in the workshop making the cabinets, railings and scrollwork that was ordered. He still worried that his brothers would have trouble keeping up with the orders. Eddie had promised to help but he had a job now that took him away from the family and the last thing Alejandro wanted was for his father, at seventy-two, to have to try and pick up the slack. His two oldest nephews were showing an interest in the business and were earning money for the college years that were fast approaching by working part-time but the family agreed their schoolwork came first.

He followed her down the hall. She entered a large room with a king sized bed, a dresser, night stand and large wardrobe. The furniture was a dark mahogany that matched the wooden trim running along the ceiling and floor. A wooden chair rail circled the room separating a plum striped wallpaper on the bottom and a pale mauve paint above. The wood had been laid in alternating strips of mahogany and cherry. He ran the palm of his hand over the door jam and the nearest section of the chair rail. Someone had known what they were doing. She crossed to the wardrobe and pulled out a small stack of clothes from a drawer that she left open. He half watched her as she moved to the closet and pulled out a blanket and pillow. He walked further into the room, running his hand along the wall. Then he moved toward the bed and his palm stroked the wood.

“Stop that!” she said sharply.

Alejandro’s eyes widened in surprise. She was glaring at him with a peeved expression. “What?” he demanded.

“Stop scent marking my house. You rubbed against the wall in the boy’s room, now you’re marking this one. I swear if you spray something I’ll neuter you myself.” She stomped out of the room.

He looked up at his hand where it still lay against the wooden post of the bed. And he laughed. He hadn’t realized he’d been doing it. He’d rubbed his back on the wall in the boy’s room on purpose. He wanted Tomás to know he was there. But he’d been rubbing his palm along the surfaces of this room, her room, absently. The palm of his hand where, like the pads of the cougar’s feet and along his spine, he had oil glands that left his mark upon what he touched. His amusement faded slightly as he began to wonder at just how much about him and his kind his little doctor seemed to know. He left the room and followed his nose to find her. She was making up a bed in a smaller room. It was so small it fit only the single bed and a narrow dresser.

She looked up at him, still irritated. “What have you got in that thing?”

He frowned, “What thing?”

She stood up from smoothing the blanket and pointed at his bag where it hung from his shoulder. “What, you keep all your cash in there? The secret map to a treasure chest heaping with gold? Why are you still carrying it? What’s in there that’s so special?”

He lifted an eyebrow at the sudden return of animosity and sat it down on the floor inside the door. “Nothing special, just your basics.”

She walked passed him, picked up the bag and headed down the hall. “Hey,” he went after her, “that is mine you know.”

“Cats,” she muttered under her breath. Reaching the larger room she placed it on the bed. “Then you’ll probably want it in your room.”

Realizing what was happening, he shook his head. “No, thanks little doctor but I’m fine in the other room.”

She smiled at him with a wicked light in her eyes that set him on edge. “You don’t think I’m sacrificing a good night’s sleep for you, do you?”

“No. Now why would I think that? You’re only trying to give me the bigger room, your room.” Alejandro gestured with his hand. “You’re sleeping in here. I’ll take the other room.”

Her eyes narrowed. Brie was well aware it wasn’t exactly nice of her to deliberately confuse the poor man but all things considered it was damned satisfying. “I thought you said you were going to cooperate with me?”

“I said I wouldn’t interfere in your treatment of Tomás.”

“Well, that’s exactly what you’re doing.” Her hands rested on her hips. “I need to be in that other room. It’s closer to him, it has a vent between the two rooms that will allow me to hear him, allow him to hear me and allow my scent to reach him even when I’m not in the room.” She moved to the door. “So be a good boy and sleep where you’re told. I’ll get the rest of my things moved in the morning.” Pausing she looked back over her shoulder. “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done. I’m going to put something on for dinner. Hope you don’t mind but I’m a strict vegetarian.” She flashed him a wicked “you’re so screwed,” grin and left.

The Eyes Have It.

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


Today's Meandering Thoughts:


Whenever they do one of those romance/sex surveys men and women often say the first thing they notice about someone is their eyes. I don't necessarily buy that it's the first thing that people notice, but I do believe it's in the top 5, maybe even the top 3. Eyes are important.

We communicate so much with our eyes that we don't say with our words. Mothers can usually see in a child's eyes when they are sick, worrried, afraid or even lying. Eyes are a crucial part of smiling. The broadest display of teeth and curled lips in the world falls flat if the smile doesn't reach the eyes.

And with the one you love, eyes are such important ways of communicating. A look from a lover can tell you they need a bit of coddling, it can tell you they are ready to share a laugh, it can tell you they want more for desert than the chocolate cake you just served up. The best moment of all is when a lover looks deep into your eyes and says:

"My darling I could spend eternity lost in your eyes."


Tonight's Guy:

Tonight's hero is special. Not only because he was able to see beyond what the world saw but because in writing him (which means living for several months with him wandering around my brain) I fell in love with him. I adore all my guys, but James is the one who stole my heart.


James Edwards
Human
Occupation: Surgical Nurse/sometime musician
Age:35
Story: Access Denied by Jacqueline Roth from Cerridwen Press

James is not a happy person. One of a select few human beings chosen to survive a planetary disaster that wiped out all life on the Earth's surface. When the selection process began he tried to put the tragedy that scarred his soul behind him and begin again. Only once he finds himself inside Sanctuary, that new life falls apart. Now more angry and hurt than ever before, James is withdrawn from the world around him. His rage and pain eat away a little more every day, but to James' thinking it's not killing him fast enough.

Trapped in Sanctuary's family planning program which seeks to pair up single residents to form strong family units, James is forced to spend consecutive three month trial periods with women the Committee choses for him. And he's seriously pissed off. But inside this caustic and rude exterior is a man who has a keen love of family. When he gives himself to someone, it is all of himself. Without reservation.



Excerpt from Access Denied:

He knew she had left the room. He couldn’t feel her there anymore and the soft smell of her was fading. He ran his hand through his hair and a low groaning growl emerged from his throat. He should come with a warning label. There should be a stamp on his forehead warning everyone that if they tried to be kind to him, got anywhere near him, he was bound to screw up and hurt them. Or get them killed.


What had he just done? How had he let that happen? One minute he’s holding a picture of his dead wife and weeping for her like a lost child and the next he’s holding Leah and wanting nothing more than to hear her whisper that she wanted him. That she cared for him. That she didn’t hate him for what he had done. For the way he had failed at everything that mattered in his life.


But that was it, wasn’t it. He failed at everything and even sweet Leah couldn’t change that fact. He couldn’t even manage to be her friend without doing something stupid to ruin it. He dropped onto the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. A sick feeling of premonition swept through him. He had seven weeks left with her. She was trapped with him for seven more weeks. That was plenty of time for him to manage to completely ruin any chance she’d even want to remember his name once this was over. No, by the time he was done screwing up, even Leah would bolt and run without a backward glance.


James stood up and flipped the light off. He pulled off his shirt and pants and dropped them in the laundry chute. They would be back in forty-eight hours, delivered while he was still at work. He took a pair of pajama bottoms from the drawer and pulled them on, tightening the drawstring waist. No fancy closures here, just simple comfort and a barcode label sewn into them identifying the owner. He’d not bothered with clothes for bed before Leah but had decided before she even arrived he didn’t want to forget and find himself nude and meeting her coming back from the kitchen in the middle of the night.


He stretched out on the bed and pulled the blanket up over one shoulder as he faced the wall. Tomorrow was going to turn out to be a damned difficult and uncomfortable day. Not only did he have to face Leah again but tomorrow night he would be up to his ears in her friends at a noisy club, celebrating her birthday. And after tonight’s performance, he was fairly certain he was going to be the last person she wanted to celebrate with.


He had kissed her and she had fled. If he had ever doubted the sincerity with which she had addressed him those first days, he doubted no more. She didn’t want him. That’s fine, he heard the part of him he was learning to hate scoff. Come on, you don’t want her anyway. How many times have you told her that? This is Leah. Fine, she’s nice and all but damn, you can do better.

James lay there staring at wall letting the thought turn over in his mind. “No,” he finally whispered quietly to the empty room, “but she can.” The light brown eyes closed and when he eventually did drift off to sleep, the last thought that occupied his mind was the way she had felt pressed to him. He had never imagined her body would feel the way it did against him. Nor had he ever imagined the reaction it tore from his. That body, his reaction and a pair of green eyes followed him into his dreams.

(Gerard Butler is standing in for James not because I saw him in the part when I was originally writing this, but because that lovely voice of his and his scruffy appearance just seemed right in retrospect. Sorry no bare chested shots, but there don't seem to be any of this guy that aren't the screaming 300 mode.)

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.

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

As a special treat these authors will be participating in a chat on February 4th from 1pm-8pm at Love Romances Cafe. Stop by and meet these wonderful writers.

Confession time! I am so jealous. When Anny sent me this list of prizes my response was to pout and say "But I wanna win these book!" This list has some of my favorites and some new authors I've been waiting to read. This list of newer releases should warm up even the last desperate howls of winter.