Yeeeeah, this picture has absolutely nothing to do with my post today. It just made me happy which is exactly how I’m feeling.
I just recently finished editing my novella “Bound in Ecstasy” for re-release.
Don’t groan. I LOVE editing. It’s been awhile since I looked at this manuscript and hung out with the characters. This is my chance to get reaquainted with some old friends. An opportunity to destroy any cliches that may have snuck into my prose, remove any unnecessary adjectives and adverbs and be sure every page, every paragraph shines.
Okay, I’m not that good, but you get the idea. I want to make this story the best I can at this moment in my career and the editing is a big part of getting to that point.
Now, in the spirit of full disclosure I should tell you that I’ve never gotten any really hard edits. There was one book where I forgot to mention a character’s motivation which meant a quick scene and a couple of sentences with the backstory and the problem was solved. (Thank you to that editor who caught that glaring error.) Other than that my edits are mostly poor word choices and overused descriptions. That being said, it’s probably one of the biggest reasons I don’t mind going through manuscript edits.
Now the nitty gritty of how I do it.
1) I skim through all my editor’s comments to see if there are any glaring problems (um, like a missing motivation)
2) Then I choose a random scene and read through it carefully to find …
spelling errors
No matter how many times you read your story from beginning to end there’s always the chance you’ll overlook simple errors. Between you, your editor and the final proofer, one can only hope they are all corrected. But we’ve all read a book with spelling errors. It happens.
showing not telling
This one is easy to overlook, but look at these sentences.
Nina is cold.
That’s a telling sentence. It doesn’t do anything to engage the reader. Sometimes this is okay. Nothing drives me crazier than when I have to read for the fourth time that a character lifted his shoulders … when he shrugged can work just as well. Okay, it’s a balance and one of those tightropes authors have to navigate which is why I look so closely for it.
vs this sentence …
Nina burrowed deeper in the thin sleeping bag, but nothing seemed to slow the rattle of her teeth and the shivering that quaked her tired muscles.
That paints quite a picture for the reader. It drops them right into Nina’s terrible ordeal, which is exactly where you want them.
overused words (it never fails that I fall in love with one word. I once used lascivious 15 times in a story … um, yeah a little overuse there Nina?)
make sure my paragraphs are backloaded
This is a great one and often hard to spot. Backloading means to put the most important piece of information or the sentence with the most impact at the END of your paragraph.
Here’s an example. Look at these two paragraphs:
Tonight he ached to dominate only one submissive in the overflowing club and it wasn’t the one delivering the drinks. The blonde beauty dropped to her knees beside Ethan. Naked, save for the black leather circling her neck, wrist and ankles and the silver and gem studded chains hanging stylishly from her nipple and clitoral clips, the woman was a breathtaking vision in her docility.A nice paragraph, but it ends with a description of the waitress. but this version from Bound in Ecstasy …
A submissive on staff delivered beverages to their table and knelt obediently on the floor beside Ethan. Naked, save for the black leather circling her neck, wrist and ankles and the silver and gem studded chains hanging stylishly from her nipple and clitoral clips, the woman was a breathtaking vision in her docility. Normally the sight would have piqued the Dom clamoring inside Jonathon, but tonight there was only one submissive he ached to dominate.
…. ends with an emotional impact for the reader. The intention is to propel the reader into the next paragraph and the next page.
end the chapter on a hook
The best books are the ones where you “think” you’re going to read to the end of the chapter, but when you get there you HAVE to turn the page. A great hook is the easiest way to get your reader to turn the page.
Here’s the end of one of the chapters (unedited from “Maid for Master” … of course)
Satisfied she’d shirred up her courage, Claire grabbed her room key from her dresser, stuck a bright yellow tropical flower from the vase on the nightstand behind her ear and threw open the door, barreling headlong into a nearly naked submissive holding an envelope and a leather collar.
I can only hope the reader has to turn the page and see what she does with that.
3) Punctuation – I’ve learned a lot from my editors over the years, but commas and semi-colons just don’t know where they belong in my manuscripts. *g* And don’t even get me started on ellipses (…) and em dashes (–) because I’m the QUEEN of overuse in that arena!
Reread the ENTIRE story
This is the very last step before I release any book. I read the story one scene at a time … COMPLETELY OUT OF ORDER! That’s right, I choose random scenes from random chapters and focus only on that scene. It’s amazing how many missing or misspelled words I find because I’m reading the words that are actually on the page and not what I “think” I see. I often see overused words (especially in my intimate scenes) this way.
And that about covers it. Everyone has their own methods of going through edits. I’m always looking for pointers. I’m not sure if readers are interested in the process, but I do think sometimes it explains how typos or inconsistencies can happen.
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So what do you think of editing?
Welcome to the annual Just Romance Me Holiday Blog Hop. Is there a better way to do a little early celebrating of 2013 than with some hawt excerpts, sexy men and fun little stories? I hope you’re enjoying the hop so far. If you’ve stumbled here without jumping on the bus and grabbing a flute of champagne, just head over HERE to make sure you don’t miss a chance for any of the wonderful prizes being offered along the way. And of course one lucky person completing the whole tour will be chosen at random to win the grand prize of a Kindle Fire HD 7″!
2012 was certainly the year that so many women (and men) discovered the naughty side of romance in the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy. Dominance and submission worked their way into every day vocabulary (even if they were whispered at bridge club meetings, hair salons, and the quiet of our bedrooms *g*). In that vein, I thought I’d turn the temperature up with a hot excerpt from my BDSM Ecstasy Resorts series. Here’s a little dungeon scene with Sara and Derek from INVITATION TO ECSTASY. Please enjoy:
Inhaling deeply, Sara filled her lungs with the seductive aromas of leather and sexual musk, overlaid with the lemon scent of disinfectant. Her nipples tightened in anticipation, sending frissons of desire straight down her core. The door shut behind her with a quiet click, tightening the hungry knots of need pulsing at the apex of her thighs.
“Bend over that spanking bench in the corner,” Derek said as he removed his black T-shirt, carelessly throwing it over a bondage chair. “We’ll start your punishment there.”
Testing the limits of Derek’s patience, she met his steely gaze. “I prefer to be flogged.”
“I’m not amused by your impudence, Sara.” His voice filled with the danger she’d seen in the hall. She froze in place as he stalked toward her, the push and pull of bronzed skin over sinewy muscle barely containing the power he had every intention of using on her. Derek stopped in front of her, his chest pressed against her breasts, his breath the only thing separating his lips from hers. “I won’t be topped by a submissive. You won’t like it if you continue to push me.”
“Yes, but I—”
With the speed of a feral cat attacking his prey, Derek spun her around and pinned her to the wall. The solid planes of his chest pressed hard against her back, both her wrists trapped between their bodies in the steel grip of his hand. Power sluiced off him in waves that buffeted her and stole her breath. Adrenaline and desire heated her blood, kicking her heart rate up several notches.
This was what her body craved. What she needed more than her next meal. His insistence she give up everything for his pleasure. She hadn’t trusted anyone enough since Marc’s death to give in to the dark desires swirling around her. But as Derek pressed his thigh between her legs, she couldn’t stop her back from arching and rubbing her swollen sex against his jeans.
He swept the hair from her cheek, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “No, Sara. There are no decisions for you.” His tongue licked just below her ear and moisture dampened her sex as she canted her hips to ride his thigh. “I am your Master. This is about what I want. You are my toy. To use as I choose.” His teeth dug into the soft flesh where his tongue had just traveled, startling a cry from her lips.
The pain was exquisite, flaming the fires of hot desire jolting over her nerves. Sara stiffened against his weight, the first tremors of pleasure quivering over her muscles.
“But first, there is the matter of your punishment for your behavior in the hall.”
And just like that, as quickly as he’d held her down, he released her and stepped away. She groaned at the loss of security his body’s heat and weight had offered her.
“The bench.” He nodded his head toward the black padded piece of furniture on the other side of the room. “Now.” His voice was thick and rich as honeyed molasses, forcing her body to obey.
The slip of lacy thong between her nether lips teased her heated flesh as she crossed the room. A rush of cream seeped from her folds to dampen her thighs. From the corner of her eye, she saw him watching her. Derek’s heavy gaze followed Sara’s every move, hunger darkening his eyes to the deep green of the forest. Her nipples strained against the soft bodice of her dress as if seeking the attention her Master was giving her ass.
“Stop. Take off your dress for me.” He swallowed hard, the first sign of weakness since taking control from her. “Slowly.”
Yes, control me so I don’t have to think.
She turned back to face him, her eyes submissively aimed at the floor. With nervous fingers, she pulled the front zipper down her torso, the tight leather parting and exposing the creamy swell of her breasts. Emboldened by Derek’s sharp intake of air, she pulled it slowly over her belly, each rasp of the zipper exposing more alabaster flesh. Cool air kissed her skin as the butter-soft material parted and gooseflesh rose, tingling along her sensitive nerves.
With exquisite leisure, offering Derek time to enjoy the visual display, Sara slid the narrow strip of leather off her shoulder, completely exposing her left breast, the areola and nipple tightened to a sensitive bud. Her breath sawed from her lungs as she slid the other side down. Caught on the flare of her hips, the leather clung to her skin. She hooked her thumbs under the material and rolled her ass, pushing until the dress dropped and pooled at her feet. She reached to undo the garter around her waist, intent on stripping off the thigh-highs and boots, but Derek’s whiskey-rich voice stopped her.
“Just the dress, Sara.”
He said nothing more, and only years of training kept her eyes cast at his feet. She couldn’t see him, but every shuddering breath he took quivered over her skin as if his fingers traced hot trails along her flesh.
At this moment, she couldn’t remember why she hadn’t believed in Derek’s ability to command her. Power pulsed around them. Energy vibrated along her nerves and heated the thick air, making her skin flush. With only his presence, he’d immersed her in the hypnotic push and pull of his domination.
“Beautiful.”
And just like that, the simple word echoed off the walls, shattering the magic.
“So beautiful.”
The voice, no longer Derek’s, was a faded memory come to back to haunt her. A cold rush of fear slid down her spine, pulling her back from the tenuous edge of trust. Derek’s heavy biker boots moved toward her, and it took all her willpower not to cower from the memories his compliment had conjured.
Mentally, Sara shook herself, trying to reorient herself in the here and now. She could do this. She’d done it in Chicago and she could do it here with Derek. The fact was she wanted to submit to him, if only to prove she was stronger than the past. A past that was currently crashing down around her and eroding away the wall of confidence she’d erected. She was suffocating in doubt, unable to completely fill her lungs.
“So very beautiful and all mine.”
Cold bands of memory continued to snake around her chest, making it hard to catch her breath. Though a warm hand curled around her neck, it was the chill of history that gripped her, pulling her back into a nightmare she’d barely escaped.
Sara’s back went rigid, even as Derek molded himself around her body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m hoping 2013 will introduce even more people to the sweet and sexy seduction of erotic romance. I’m hoping to get settled in a new home we’re currently building. I’m hoping my muse finds her way back from the tropics and whispers sweet little sexy nothings of stories in my ear. And of course I wish for world peace … or at the very least for congress to stop bickering and get some actual work accomplished. LOL!
What are your hopes for 2013?
**** THIS CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED ****
Anyone commenting on this post between now and midnight (EDT) DECEMBER 31 will be eligible to win a $10 Amazon gift card
and their choice of one of my ebooks.
Oh, and I wish someone sexy like Mr. Nina would cook your
New Year’s breakfast. 😉
Welcome to Six Sentence Sunday. This week’s six sentences come from my BDSM novella Invitation to Ecstasy.
Derek’s heavy boots pounded along the tile floor of the lower hall, the steady cadence never changing as he spoke, “You’re well trained, Sara and you know better than to talk or look at me that way.”
“What way?”
He stopped abruptly, and Sara forced herself to take three more steps before casually turning and offering him a lackadaisical arch of her brow. Despite how hard she pushed, the man held tight to his control, waiting for her to acquiesce. They were in a pissing match, still she felt compelled to push him and prove his worth. Squaring her shoulders, Sara’s eyes met the annoyance sparking in his, mutely challenging the obedience he demanded.
Buy for your Kindle or Nook
Click HERE to check out other authors participating in SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY. And thanks so much for all of you who leave comments each week. I really appreciate them.
Welcome author Tina Donahue. I’m so thrilled about your coming release and I’m so pleased you came by to tell us about it.
Thanks for the welcome Nina. To say I’m excited about my first series for Ellora’s Cave, Appointment with Pleasure, is putting it mildly. Book One, Claiming Magique (coming August 31), is so hot, not to mention romantic. Hunt (my hero) is to die for. And Magique certainly gives him a run for his money. 😀
I’m also offering a contest – the tour winner will have her choice of THREE of my backlist ebooks. So, read on!! And leave comments at each of my stops (check my BLOG daily for details and your chance to win)! The more comments, the better your chances.
BLURB:
A man at the center of power…a woman who won’t be ruled…
They call her Magique.
Sought out by the District’s elite, she’s no ordinary call girl, deciding who will pleasure her for the evening. Her preference is for several men at once. Games of bondage and submission heighten her arousal and desire to have a strong male take her…to be adored.
Lobbyist Hunter Prescott was only looking for a good time, not a woman who unleashes a hunger so deep it changes his world. He won’t stop until Magique is his alone, a prisoner of his lust, powerless against his growing need for her body and heart.
With this man, resistance isn’t allowed. For this woman, he’ll create a world of sensual delight and yearning like none she’s known. Proving that only with trust and true surrender will she find unparalleled rapture.
EXCERPT:
On the other end of the room was a wet bar. And Magique.
Hunt stepped closer, unable to help himself.
Her back was to them. She made no move to turn around despite David’s nervous throat clearing.
Her hair was glossy and black with blue highlights, worn so long the ends dangled over her ass. From his vantage point, Hunt could see her right leg. She wore strappy gold heels, three inches high. He estimated her to be about five-seven or eight without them. Her dress, a simple sheath, was of an amazing gold material, slightly shiny and so snug she might as well have sprayed the damn thing on.
It wasn’t gauzy lingerie, but it did reveal her every curve.
Adrenaline pumped through Hunt, making it difficult for him to stand still. His mouth went dry.
Her figure leaned more toward a Victoria’s Secret model than the waiflike look of high couture. The dress’s left strap had fallen down, making her seem more accessible, oddly vulnerable. Light glanced off her bare shoulder and arm as she moved, lifting a glass, tipping a bottle. Her skin was an ivory shade, looking delicate and seductive as hell.
He pulled at his tie’s knot, needing to loosen it so he could breathe more easily. The air, so fresh a moment before, seemed suffocating now. His fingers ached. He’d been making fists. To control himself? Damn right.
He longed to cross the room and turn her around so she’d notice him, her expression saying she not only approved, she wanted him more than the others, her actions affirming her reckless desire. Burying her face in the hollow of his throat, she’d take her time smelling his skin, gauging his excitement. He’d fight a sigh at her tongue licking his Adam’s apple, her thumb running over his bottom lip. What other choice would he have except to draw her finger into his mouth, gently biting the digit? The small intimacy would have her sagging into him, her weight and exquisite warmth making Hunt feel invincible, prepared to protect her from any harm.
David made a strangled noise, no doubt appreciative of the temptation she generated and his own shameless thoughts. Tim whistled softly.
At that, she turned.
Hunt stared, not even trying to hide his surprise. She was…amazing…striking…dazzling. He couldn’t settle on one description. Although she wasn’t classically beautiful, she would easily stop men cold, making them sneak another peek just to see if she was real. She had the kind of looks that grabbed a guy by his balls, keeping his attention.
Surely no more than mid-twenties, she wore her long hair parted on the side, framing her oval face. Her features were a mixture of European and Asian—Vietnamese, Japanese—Hunt couldn’t be certain. She didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, just mascara and lip gloss that somehow made her even sexier. Her lips were full, a dark-rose color, the bottom one jutting out slightly in a gentle pout. Her almond-shaped eyes were a velvety brown, her manner dignified, damn near regal as she regarded Tim, then David and him finally.
Hunt’s pulse jumped at the flicker of heat in her gaze.
BUY from ELLORA’S CAVE.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*** CONTEST is CLOSED***
To celebrate the release of Claiming Magique on August 31, I’m offering a contest. One lucky commenter during this blog tour will have her choice of THREE of my following ebooks**:
Adored – RWA award-winning; EPIC 2011 Finalist; 4 Stars RT
Deep, Dark, Delicious – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Holt Medallion Award of Merit
Lush Velvet Nights – EPIC 2011 Finalist; Golden Nib Award
In His Arms – SIX 5 Star Reviews; 4 Stars RT
Sensual Stranger – 2010 Book of the Year (erotic); 4 Stars RT
The Yearning – Top Ten Bestseller
Take Me Away – #1 Pick, Miz Love Loves Books
Unending Desire – Best Book Rating LASR
SiNN – Nominated for Book of the Week LASR
** Winner chosen at random on SEPTEMBER 13 from all
comments from all blog tour posts **
**** WINNER CHOSEN FOR TINA’S BLOG TOUR ****
Congratulations to DARCY
whose name was chosed as the Grand Prize Winner
Welcome to Six Sentence Sunday. I couldn’t find any good snippets involving Julie’s dad, so I thought I’d stick to my promise of bringing you a little heat for the summer. This week it’s Julie and Damon from BLIND HER WITH BLISS heating up the airwaves!
Julie dragged a nail through the dark whiskers along his jaw, thrilling in Damon’s quick inhalation. “Oh, you act the role of a playboy, but the heart of a gentle man hides in here.” She kissed the center of his chest, her body warming with the power of her seduction.
“Then it may shock you to learn I intended on having my way with you when we got up here. That phone call pulling Elvis away was his attempt to give me privacy.”
“No more than it would shock you to learn that’s what I’d hoped.”
Oh yeah, these two have the hots for one another. This book is also available at B&N
Thanks as always for stopping by and commenting on this week’s snippet. Click HERE to check out all authors participating in Six Sentence Sunday this week.
One of the things I love about being an author is the power I have to construct a setting, create a hero or twist a plot. And just a choice word here or there can make things dark and dangerous or sexy and passionate.
Let me use a scene from my erotic romance, Invitation to Ecstasy to show how I give a scene life and depth.
Sara had paddled the kayak for nearly thirty minutes to get to the private beach on the backside of the island. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to do this.
The above paragraph is adequate. But it doesn’t paint much of a picture. An author’s job is to put the reader in the scene. What’s the weather like? What kind of beach? Sandy? Rocky? And what the heck didn’t she want to do?
How about if I give the reader some of that information?
Sara pulled the red kayak up the sandy beach and out of the gentle wash of the surf. Though it was only a thirty-minute paddle around the backside of the island to the private lagoon, it had taken her well over an hour to get here.
Trepidation and fear had battled her determination to face her past. She’d turned back nearly as many times as she’d pushed forward. But stubbornness to finish what had begun had gotten her this far. And now that she was here, her bare feet shifting nervously in the warm sand, Sara wasn’t sure why she thought she could take this final step alone.
Ah, now we’re getting an idea of what’s going on. She’s forced herself here to face her past … and she’s doing it alone. Now what?
Sara could see the bungalow from where she stood. It was filled with some very bad memories that had taken her two years of therapy to get over. She only needed to go in and face the terrible things her late husband had done to her in that space and she could move forward with her life.
Oh, so we find out she’s come here to confront the horrible things her husband … who’s dead … did to her in the cabin. But the reader has no idea how this makes her feel. Is she afraid or happy to finally be making this journey down memory lane? And what did her husband do to her? Add those details and you have this …
The secluded bungalow, barely visible through the lush tropical foliage, had been both her paradise and her hell. It was the purgatory of memories that Sara had intended to purge when she’d left the main lodge. All she had to do was go in, slay the dragons causing her nightmares and close the book on one ugly-ass chapter of her life.
But two years. Two years of intense therapy. Two years simply putting one foot in front of the other. Two years battling to survive the ghost of her late husband had taken its toll.
The manacles Marc had put around her soul imprisoned her as completely as any physical bindings that had held her captive. If she could manage this one last task, this one last look at the ugliness Marc had made of their marriage, then she could banish him once and for all into the dark corner of her heart where life’s other hard lessons had left their scars.
Ah, now that tells the reader soooo much more. Using strong emotional words like trepidation, fear, stubborness, battling to survive certainly brings the reader into her frame of mind. Purgatory of memories and slaying dragons continue the feeling that this is not a happy place for her. Also, notice I used repetition to drive home “two years”. Repeating a word or phrase three times in that second paragraph makes a point with the readers. But use this writing device judiciously. Too many times and it will pull the reader from the story.
So now what?
But she wasn’t ready to go inside the bungalow. She wanted to go for a swim instead. Sara stripped naked, grabbed her snorkeling equipment from the kayak and jumped into the ocean. As she was swimming the cool water stroked her body turning the swim into an erotic experience.
That paragraph “tells” the reader everything they need to know, it doesn’t show the reader anything about Sara’s actions. But there’s nothing there to connect the reader to our heroine and make them care what’s happening. How about if I add some of those details?
But the little excursion down memory lane seemed impossible to face at the moment. She needed to work off a little nervous energy before braving the bungalow, and a swim in the warm Atlantic seemed to fit the bill.
Feeling the need for a little adventure, she slipped off her red tankini bathing suit and dropped it on the sand. Though she knew from experience this secluded cove was usually deserted, Sara felt delightfully naughty as she grabbed the mask, snorkel and fins from the storage compartment in the back of the kayak.
The salty breeze danced with her hair and slid wantonly over her skin like a lover’s caress as she walked into the ocean. When she dropped into the surf on her back, the normally serene water rolled into gentle waves that cradled and rocked her. Comfortable in the water, Sara easily slipped on her swim fins and mask, putting the snorkel in her mouth before rolling onto her stomach.
With practiced kicks of the fins, her thighs rubbed pleasantly together and water drifted over her breasts, belly and mons as she headed out into the lagoon. Cool water stroked heated flesh, steepling her nipples. Despite the heartache that had driven her here, the simple swim to clear her head and shore up her courage had turned into an titillating experience that had her libido humming. Her laugh echoed strangely through the snorkel at how proud Ethan would be that his paradise caused such salacious thoughts.
The awful trip down memory lane could definitely wait until she’d experienced a little pleasure.
So there you have it. Intermingling emotion, internal dialogue and backstory into your action keeps the story moving forward and your reader turning pages. What makes a great read for you? Anything in particular that will keep you turning pages?
Buy INVITATION TO ECSTASY from Amazon or Barnes & Noble.
Welcome to another Six Sentence Sunday. I know summer doesn’t officially start for a few weeks, but I thought for the next 12 Sundays I’d offer some of the hottest six sentences from my erotic romance books. This week is from my sci-fi erotic suspense A Touch of Lilly
Dallas cupped his hand around her sex, both surprised and pleased her thighs were slick with her desire. Pressing the tip of his finger against her clit, he swallowed her moan of pleasure and gave it right back to her when she ground against the assault. Sliding his other hand along the lacy edge of her thong, he slipped it beneath the material and traced a slow path down her satin labia.
She broke from their kiss, her lips swollen from his assault, her breath coming in hard pants. “Enough is enough. I’m hot, I’m wet, I’m ready and it’s you I want.”
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Thanks so much for stopping by today. I always appreciate your comments. Click HERE to check out other authors who are participating this week.
This weeks Six Sentence Sunday is a third selection from Healer’s Garden. Click HERE for Brenimyn’s scene and HERE for Jahara’s scene.
Brenimyn looked down at Jahara and watched her transformation in rapt fascination.
Stepping away from him, she stood with her feet planted, pulling herself up tall. She filled her lungs, her bare breasts held high. The dark triangle of her womanhood was visible through the gossamer fabric of her breeches billowing in the breeze. She looked so feminine. Yet, under the lifted chin and unpretentious set of her mouth, he could see the fierce warrior the visionaries had promised.
Also available on Amazon
Thank you so much for stopping by. And as always, I appreciate your comments. Click HERE to check out other authors participating this week.
Welcome back to another Six Sentence Sunday where authors choose six sentences from one of their books to share with readers. Since I’m in the last stages of getting my sexy romantic suspense series in the print anthology DANGEROUS AFFAIRS, I thought I’d share six sentences from the last book in the series Cheat Her With Charm.
Even in the darkness of the kitchen, the heavy snow outside glowed eerily on the trees. The branches bent and swayed in a mesmerizing ballet with the wind. It was beautiful to watch, but if it continued to ground planes and keep her fiance stuck in Philly, Meghan would be a basket case.
On a heavy sigh, she headed for a flashlight in the bottom drawer by the sink, intent on starting the kerosene heater and snuggling back into bed. As she stepped around the counter, an arm came around her chest, pinning her arms and trapping her against the hard wall of a large male body. The attacker’s other hand snaked up from behind and covered her mouth, stifling her surprised scream.
I always enjoy all your comments. Thank you. Click HERE to check out other authors participating this week.
I’d like to welcome Francesca Hawley. Her newest release ALPHA VS ALPHA is available from our publisher, Ellora’s Cave. Take it away Francesca …
Thank you Nina. One of my favorite tropes for paranormal romance is that of “fated mates.” I have heard from other readers that they absolutely hate it because it removes all the conflict from the story because readers then know the two characters have to end up together.
Well, heck…I write romance. In romance it’s a given that your hero and heroine (or protagonists of whatever gender and number) will end up together. So that’s a non-starter. Now, I will grant that an author can skip over some of the relationship conflict because the two main characters have to end up together. But that’s a conflict in, and of, itself because what if one—or both—don’t want to be in the relationship. Such is the case with Serena Goldwolf , the heroine of Alpha vs. Alpha.
In her whole life, Serena has never heard her parents argue. It looks to her as though her mother always kowtows to her father’s edicts. He’s an alpha shapeshifter male. The head of a pack. Therefore, his word is law. Serena has no intention of living her life that way. She loves her mother, but doesn’t want to be her.
Damien Blackwolf has never indicated to Serena that he wants her to turn into a “yes-bitch” who does exactly what he says without a murmur to the contrary. He just wants her to acknowledge their True Mate status. A full out battle of wills ensues over the issue. Serena is afraid acknowledging their connection means that she has to give up herself—and her very soul—in order to be with Damien. Damien wants her just the way she is—a spit and vinegar alpha female.
I initially wrote this story for another publisher back in 2005 and I had a lot of fun reworking this story for Ellora’s Cave. I was able to tighten the story and strengthen the growing connection between Serena and Damien. Damien remains one of my favorite alpha male heroes and Serena gives just as good as she gets.
So what do you think of the “fated mates” storyline that’s often used in paranormal romance? Love it? Hate it? Any recommended reading?
BLURB:
Alpha female Serena Goldwolf has spent a lifetime vowing never to be a submissive mate to any Alpha male. But all it takes is one surprisingly sexual meeting with Damien Blackwolf, a dissatisfied client of her shapeshifter dating site Predator-Match.com, and she is down on all fours, wanting to be mounted by the hottest male on two legs—or four—whom she’s ever met.
Damien Blackwolf doesn’t understand why the voluptuous Serena won’t admit they’re True Mates. To convince her, he decides to bring out her baser desires by dragging her off to someplace private to get to know her…intimately. But how can he convince her of their destiny when she refuses to acknowledge their True Mate connection and runs away from him? Guess he’ll just have to hunt her down and persuade her.
In a passionate battle of wills, there most definitely can be two winners.
Publisher’s Note: Previously published elsewhere but has been revised and expanded for Ellora’s Cave.
EXCERPT:
Chapter One
“What the hell kind of outfit is this?”
Serena Goldwolf’s head shot up at the irate shout coming from the outer office of her shapeshifter matchmaking business, Predator-Match.com. She brushed her bangs off her forehead with a sigh. Damn it, couldn’t anyone in this office take care of stuff without her intervention?
The male voice continued to roar out there, and she knew her secretary wouldn’t be able to handle him because Kara was such an omega even omega males dominated her. Serena sighed again, saved her database update and headed out to confront the wolf male jerk. Serena took in the male outrage with a shake of her head. Asshole. He shook his head as if he’d heard her. Yeah right. She wished.
“I’m sorry, sir. Really.” Kara huddled in her chair, her head dipped and her eyes on her desktop. Submission in her posture and her voice.
“You people set me up with some stalker bitch! I want to talk to one of the owners, now.” A tall black-haired man with dark-brown eyes leaned on the desk, his large hands flat on the wood.
Serena took him in, her body responding immediately. Damn it. She didn’t need this shit, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He wore a very expensive, black Italian suit, Italian black leather loafers, a crisp white shirt and red tie. The ultimate in power wear for the busy executive. And he was so good-looking he resembled an escapee from Fashion Week. She shook her head to remind herself that he wasn’t all that…he was just a wolf like any other.
Heads hung out of office doors, watching the confrontation with enjoyment, yet no one came to Kara’s rescue. Probably glad to be out of firing range themselves…that’s what she got for hiring betas. The females all wanted him and the males would jump to follow his orders.
Female musk clogged the air. Especially from Lea Redcat, one of her business partners. Predator-Match.com was damn successful. To the outside world, their site looked like a zoo animal match service. To the shapeshifter community, it was a way to find a lover or a life partner. Since Lea was allowing this thing to escalate, it looked like Serena to the rescue. Again.
“I’m really sorry, sir. We do our best to match our clients up with the best fit for them.” Kara cringed lower behind her desk and wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Typical omega posture. The male frowned.
“Are you saying you think I deserve a psycho bitch as my Mate?” His quiet voice seemed to scare Kara more than his shouting had because she backed up. It wouldn’t be long before she crawled under her desk.
“No s-s-sir,” Kara stammered.
Damn that bastard. He was done scaring Kara. Unable to suppress her temper, Serena growled. His gaze flashed to her and she felt it all the way to her womb. Damn but he was hot. Life was just not fair.
She challenged him—head up, shoulders back—inspecting him from top to bottom and allowing her gaze to linger, as if she were checking for fleas. His shoulders were broad and filled his Italian suit to perfection. His broad chest narrowed to athletic hips, and she would bet money that his belly sported a six-pack, and not of the beer variety. He had the kind of face that artists wanted to sculpt and women wanted to sit on. His eyes were the piece de resistance—large, dark brown and thick-lashed beneath perfectly arched brows.
In short, he was a god—or a male model. This was the kind of male who never looked twice at Serena because she wasn’t tall and thin, or tiny and doll-like. She had yet to meet a male wolf who wanted a woman with curves, but this kind of wolf was the worst. These wolves wanted trophy bitches.
“Who are you?” His voice cut the air like a knife.
She lifted her chin when the bastard stared her down. How dare he try to intimidate her? She was an alpha female, damn it!
Serena Goldwolf’s head shot up at the irate shout coming from the outer office of her shapeshifter matchmaking business, Predator-Match.com. She brushed her bangs off her forehead with a sigh. Damn it, couldn’t anyone in this office take care of stuff without her intervention?
The male voice continued to roar out there, and she knew her secretary wouldn’t be able to handle him because Kara was such an omega even omega males dominated her. Serena sighed again, saved her database update and headed out to confront the wolf male jerk. Serena took in the male outrage with a shake of her head. Asshole. He shook his head as if he’d heard her. Yeah right. She wished.
“I’m sorry, sir. Really.” Kara huddled in her chair, her head dipped and her eyes on her desktop. Submission in her posture and her voice.
“You people set me up with some stalker bitch! I want to talk to one of the owners, now.” A tall black-haired man with dark-brown eyes leaned on the desk, his large hands flat on the wood.
Serena took him in, her body responding immediately. Damn it. She didn’t need this shit, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He wore a very expensive, black Italian suit, Italian black leather loafers, a crisp white shirt and red tie. The ultimate in power wear for the busy executive. And he was so good-looking he resembled an escapee from Fashion Week. She shook her head to remind herself that he wasn’t all that…he was just a wolf like any other.
Heads hung out of office doors, watching the confrontation with enjoyment, yet no one came to Kara’s rescue. Probably glad to be out of firing range themselves…that’s what she got for hiring betas. The females all wanted him and the males would jump to follow his orders.
Female musk clogged the air. Especially from Lea Redcat, one of her business partners. Predator-Match.com was damn successful. To the outside world, their site looked like a zoo animal match service. To the shapeshifter community, it was a way to find a lover or a life partner. Since Lea was allowing this thing to escalate, it looked like Serena to the rescue. Again.
“I’m really sorry, sir. We do our best to match our clients up with the best fit for them.” Kara cringed lower behind her desk and wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Typical omega posture. The male frowned.
“Are you saying you think I deserve a psycho bitch as my Mate?” His quiet voice seemed to scare Kara more than his shouting had because she backed up. It wouldn’t be long before she crawled under her desk.
“No s-s-sir,” Kara stammered.
Damn that bastard. He was done scaring Kara. Unable to suppress her temper, Serena growled. His gaze flashed to her and she felt it all the way to her womb. Damn but he was hot. Life was just not fair.
She challenged him—head up, shoulders back—inspecting him from top to bottom and allowing her gaze to linger, as if she were checking for fleas. His shoulders were broad and filled his Italian suit to perfection. His broad chest narrowed to athletic hips, and she would bet money that his belly sported a six-pack, and not of the beer variety. He had the kind of face that artists wanted to sculpt and women wanted to sit on. His eyes were the piece de resistance—large, dark brown and thick-lashed beneath perfectly arched brows.
In short, he was a god—or a male model. This was the kind of male who never looked twice at Serena because she wasn’t tall and thin, or tiny and doll-like. She had yet to meet a male wolf who wanted a woman with curves, but this kind of wolf was the worst. These wolves wanted trophy bitches.
“Who are you?” His voice cut the air like a knife.
She lifted her chin when the bastard stared her down. How dare he try to intimidate her? She was an alpha female, damn it!
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