Something to Think About

"Life is like a library owned by the author. In it are a few books which he wrote himself, but most of them were written for him." - Harry Fosdick

Addiction?

This week has been eye opening. I've learned how dependent (and dare I say addicted?) I am to something...my computer. 
It happened on Saturday night....
I'd just gotten off work and my fingers were itching to type scenes from my brain. I opened the lid to my laptop and pressed the power button only to find the chilling phrase that announced its doom: NO OPERATING SYSTEM FOUND!!!!! (Cue scary music).

Needless to say I tried turning it off and back on again (it is after all IT 101).  When that didn't work I was devestated.  My laptop is only six months old...surely it can't be gone!!!!

I've got it in the ICU of the IT department at the hospital and the prognosis is good (fingers crossed). Though I wait patiently untily laptop comes home I am now anxiously awaiting the arrival of my new iMac.  :().  The good news is that I keep everything backed up on a flash drive so none of my book covers or works in progress were lost in this senseless tragedy.  So, I'll be the proud new parent of an iMac and I'll be helping my recovering laptop...

I told you it has gotta ne an addiction!

Don't miss out on the Romance Reviews Year End Splash!  Lots of prizes, games and chances to chat with authors!!!!

Something to Think About

"A dirty joke is a form of mental rebellion."

George Orwell

 

Please excuse me while I host many mental rebellions! ;)

Research, Research, Research! (Repost)

In my quest to write Maria's Match I did some very interesting research indeed! Maria is pregnant (as you all remember from Embracing Ember), and with pregnancy comes some questions about sex.

Disclaimer: I can't give advice and that's not what this is. If you are pregnant and want to share sexy time with your husband/lover/whatever, then I suggest if you have any questions you ask your OB/GYN or healthcare provider. This is just from my research.


Can you have sex while pregnant?
Well, heck yeah, at least according to my research. Now, as long as you have permission from your OB, then it is perfectly safe to have sexy time.

Now, the nitty gritty of my research...
Sexual positions while pregnant:

We all know that a pregnant female will have the baby bump...and in an effort to not squish junior while making love these are some of the recommended positions...again, it is best to talk to your doctor. (I can't stress that enough, even if I wrote an epic novel about talking with your healthcare provider, then I couldn't stress talking with them enough.)

So, with that said here are some of the easiest positions for the pregnant female to accommodate:

• The spooning position seems to be recommended on many websites. This one is where he lies behind you like you're going to take a nap, but instead he lifts your leg and penetrates you from behind. This is a shallow penetration, but it keeps the pressure off the baby bump. Besides, nothing said he couldn't use his hands to play with certain parts of your anatomy...
• Female on top...Now this has some possibilities. While the woman gets into position on top, be it cowgirl, reverse cowgirl...whatever. The beauty part is the woman controls depth and the pressure is once again off the belly.
• Getting it from behind...Doggy style or whichever position is awesome for you and maintain pressure off the baby bump (see a pattern?)
• Also, one can have the female scoot to the edge of the bed and the male can go at it as though in missionary position, but without resting his weight on top of...you got it...the baby bump!

Isn't research great??!!??

Random Excerpt!!!

State of Unrest takes place in 1900 and 1776 (There are two stories intermingled within the book...) and sets the stage for State of Resistance.  The Chronicles of JJ has many twists and turns, but today we're going to take a look at a moment in time where everything was set in motion...

       Summer 1900

Rural area surrounding Memphis, TN

Abigail Belamy was furious. From the moment of her birth to this moment, she had been the perfect princess to her father’s Alpha status. When he said jump, she jumped. When he was going to marry her off to that slimy Wolf Changeling Milo Erickson, she had agreed.

Thankfully, Milo found another specimen to set his sights on. Apparently, straight-laced and meek Abigail posed no challenge for him, so he set his sights on more feral pastures. However, this so-called diplomatic endeavor was an insult. It put her in precarious position to maintain the fragile peace between Changelings and Vampires. Her father did not want peace, and never had. Abigail knew her father’s hatred ran very deep. She never truly understood why he despised Vampires and Darklings so much. Sure, from her birth it had been the way of things not to intermingle within the species. There were no explanations for the reasoning of such a radical law. It may not be in any law book or legislature from any of the species, but it was enforced – swiftly and without mercy.

It was rumored one of the pack females scented a darkling and she instantly became enamored of him. Apparently, he was her destined mate. She could not fight nature, so they became a mated couple. Of course, it was a rumor so the validity of it was beyond Abigail’s reach. However, if it were true, then the given legislature of mixing between species was as cruel as it was unfounded.

Everyone knew that mating was a powerful bond, reaching within each other’s souls and tying them together for their existence. It was considered predestined by those who controlled the universe that these two people should meet and be together. It was a bond so strong that upon the destruction of one of the pair, the other slowly died his or her soul no longer whole. Yet when meeting your fated companion if you were to deny what fate had deemed so then you would slowly become mad, no longer a functioning member of society. Abigail was not especially knowledgeable about mates, having never felt that urge to make someone completely hers, but she had heard rumors of other members of the packs going mad from denying their potential mate. Abigail could only think of one reason why they would deny their mates – it was forbidden.

Abigail threw her dresses in the trunk, her mind a whirl of thoughts, most of which she would never reveal. Abigail took a deep breath and released her tension as she had always done. This technique was probably the reason she was such an obedient daughter. Being exactly what her father decided she should. She walked to the window, overlooking the small village her father preferred to stay rather than the large house allotted the Alpha of all the wolf packs. The new moon bathed the night’s darkness in dim light, creating an eerie setting to the usually lighted hillside. Shadows played on the windowpane from the candles that glowed on her desk. Abigail leaned her forehead against the glass, her breath causing it to fog. Her perfect, ordered existence was ending. Her eyes a bright green color reflecting on the glass was an affirmation that her animal side agreed.

Abigail’s life revolved around her father’s status as Alpha, his power not just for that of the wolf changelings, but his elected status as King of the Changelings. This position ensured that her upbringing was under the watch of all the species. Her brief fifty years spent being the perfect daughter. Attending all the functions and behaving properly. Giving up a normal existence for that of a figurine, something to be looked at, never spoken to, and never befriended.

A tear spilled down her cheek, as she released her pent up breath. It was time to become what her father deemed necessary for the changelings. She knew this move for what it was, despite her father reassuring her that she was the obvious choice. Despite beliefs she held near to her heart, the world saw females as second class, nothing more than slaves in some instances. Her father sending her as the diplomat in this last ditch effort to save the fragile peace was a slap in the face to the other diplomats. She knew it and so did her father who vehemently denied such a tactic.

 

Don't forget the Year End Splash! at The Romance Reviews starts today!  Don't miss out on the fun games and awesome prizes!

Something to Think About

"Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth." - Albert Camus

Work in Progress: State of Resistance

I'm still dutifully working on the Chronicles of JJ second installment: State of Resistance and I hope that my muse will allow me to have this finished before the middle of Novemeber.  But here is a little snippet from the draft and be kind as it is unedited!  Now, just to catch you up a bit, JJ is a darkling that we met in State of Unrest at the very end.  She is an agent with an organization called: AEM which stands for Alliance of Everlasting Matters (Sort of like the FBI/CIA for the Everlasting world).  So, let's get to know JJ a little better!

JJ couldn't remember the last time blood had tasted so good.  She wrapped her hands around the arm that fed her, pulling the blood as fast as she could down her throat.  While she'd always enjoyed blood, nothing had ever tasted this sweet, almost like dark chocolate and wine. 
She closed her eyes and moaned as a warm body pressed itself to her side, cradling her head as she continued to feast.  Her nipples pebbled and her clothing felt to confining, the cotton material abrasive against her now over-sensitive nipples. 
"That's right, Jessica, take all that you need."
JJ strained to get closer, her body aligning itself to the heat that surrounded her.  Her pussy wept with evidence of her arousal.  She wanted this man who tasted like wine and chocolate, that smelled like the forest on a rainy night, and felt like a furnace.  She released his arm, for the first time in her life she felt...sated...by the blood she'd drank.  She'd always thought she drank more than normal for a darkling, but her parent's always told her it probably wasn't for need as much as taste.  It didn't matter at this moment though, because she felt like she could run leap over mountains, and possibly even fly.  She blinked, a hard mucled chest coming into her view.  She traced her fingernails, now claws in her excitement, gently over the defined pectorals.  Part of her knew this male, and another part rebelled at the possiblity of it being Alex who held her.  It just couldn't be Alex that had fed her.
She raised her gaze to his bright blue one and her heart skipped a few beats.  "Welcome back, baby."
Part of her wanted to melt closer into his arms, but another part--the part that had kept her alive for over three hundred years--rebeled the almost instant trust she felt for this male.  Daniel hadn't earned her trust so readily.  Instead he had earned it in equal parts blood, sweat and tears.  But it had never been that way with Alex.  She barely knew him, six months of dancing around each other, and she was honest with herself on occasion to admit that this was exactly what they'd been doing.  But she wouldn't allow herself to blindly trust this male...couldn't.
She pushed away from him and rolled off the side of the small cot she'd been a moments away from christening with sticky, hot sex with one delicious wolf changeling.  Her core clenched at the idea of him moving deep inside her--claiming her.  No one claimed her.  No one.
Alex's hand wrapped around her arm and she was pulled back onto the bed into his lap.  Damn this wolf moved too fast.  She hated how her body rejoiced at being back in his arms, how her already aroused body became soft and pliant. 
JJ forced herself to stiffen and pull away, but his grip was relentless.
"Let me go," she said with a calm she didn't feel.
His nose moved up and down her neck before his tongue snaked out and lapped at her pulse.  Everything within her turned molten and her core clenched in anticipation.  An anticipation that she would never allow Alex to fulfill.
"You smell different."
She stiffened.  He was rubbing all over her and insulting the way she smelled.  Well, she'd just fought some damn witchlings and been almost burned to a fucking crisp all to save his furry ass.  His tongue teased her pulse again, this time he bit gently at her neck.  She forced herself not to moan, bit her tongue until the sweet coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
"Not a bad different, but-," a lick followed by a more forceful bite, "delicious."