Monday, November 6, 2017

The Writer's World: Topics, Writing & Inspiration

This blog post reflects the information I shared during the WPW FaceBook Event on November 7th, 2017. This event focused on authors and their world, including how they decide their subject matter, writing habits, and sources of information. You can find the entirety of the event here.


For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Angora Shade, American expat living in Europe and writing erotica & romance. You can find all my books on my Amazon author page, and many of my titles now appear on the Radish Fiction app. Feel free to check me out!



How does someone become a writer and where do all the ideas come from?

I’ve always believed that people who write do so because they have to. It’s a compulsion, a necessity. Imagine having a third arm and never using it. A person either has the predisposition for writing or they don’t. It’s true that some people at whatever point in time in their life might say, “Hey, that’d make a great story; I should write it down!” and they do; it sells and they get to call themselves “author.” But in most cases, I think people who tell stories can’t function or find some semblance of happiness, inner peace, or whatever name you want to give it, without writing.

When you’re a writer and you’re telling a story, you sometimes write for yourself, the reader, or both. But for whatever reason you’re putting words down, there’s a high involved. It’s not the after effects of too much booze or the chill sensation some people get when stoned, but something completely different and unique to every author. For me I’d say I feel satisfaction, accomplishment, or full. I’d go as far as saying that I feel whole.

I first began writing as a child. I was fascinated with creating my own stories and illustrations in grade school, and later became focused on poetry as a means of self-expression. Ideas for stories when I was a kid stemmed from retelling other stories I had heard in my own way, but as I grew, I drew topics from my emotions.

I didn’t have the typical childhood or teen years. My early life was tragic by most standards, and the safest outlet was through writing. The things I couldn’t outwardly express I found a way to communicate through paper and pen. Writing is therapeutic whether a person chooses to share their words or not, and I’m grateful I was able to work through issues with writing as my tool. I was able to heal damaged parts of my heart and mind through my writing.

As an adult, I still find writing to be a tool for expressing emotions, but not a must. I’ve grown up and I deal with communication of my feelings in an adult way. This has left a gaping hole in my reservoir of writing topics. I’ve had to search out new methods of inspiration.

Motivation and inspiration often go hand-in-hand.

This was a topic of fascination for me when I first began writing seriously and publishing or self-publishing my work. I wanted to better understand how I fit in with other authors, and did a series of interviews from the pool of authors I’d come in contact with.

Here is an interview on Motivation In Writing:


How do writers prepare to write? Here’s what numerous authors had to say:


Another interesting aspect of writing is how writers are affected by the concentration involved in creating a story. You can read about this here:


The research I’ve done also expands into the writing habits of other authors, specifically in the erotica, erotic romance, romance, and (let’s just call it porn) genres.


You can read interviews on how writing sex scenes relates to the lives of the authors who write them on my blog. If you’re familiar with these genres, chances are you know of or have heard of these fabulous writers, including the multitalented Wicked Pen Writers Reed James and Bryce Calderwood.

Part ONE          Part TWO

The journey into writing erotica, erotic romance, and romance...


I didn’t always write about sex. I didn’t even write about romance. Hell, I didn’t even read anything except horror, adventure, and science fiction until recently. So what happened? What drove me to explore these new genres?


After moving to Sheep Shit Nowhere, Europe, I was unemployed, had no friends, and didn’t speak the language. I was bored. So I poured all my energy into writing my first official novel under a different pen name. The story was a young adult dark fantasy that included a small element of romance, which picked up speed as the story developed. My climactic moment fell a little flat due to the fact that nothing more than a kiss took place. I began questioning traditional rules: can you put a sex scene into a young adult book, is sex allowed for minors, is sex necessary for my story and characters? 

I learned that no, you can’t have underage characters screwing in young adult fiction (traditionally. I’m not saying it never happens, just that it’s usually a big no-no). Everything has to take place “behind the scenes” if something more than legal happens. But it wasn’t satisfying!!!!! To this day, I still feel like there needs to be more for my protagonist and her surprise love interest.

Understanding the rules, I abandoned writing young adult literature and tried my hand at something completely new: smut. I spoke at length with another erotic author and discussed the basic elements of sex scenes, got drunk, and penned my own. I needed to know if I could do it. I needed to see if I was any good at it. Would I even be comfortable with it?

My story was fun to write and pushed me further creatively than I had ever pushed myself before. The original short story “Adventures In Plastic Wrap” ballooned into “Cat & Mouse” and eventually into “Cat Games,” published by my former publishing house. I learned that you can write a story that means something as well as write a story with steamy sex. I was satisfied.

This story is available on Amazon and is coming soon to Radish Fiction:

https://www.amazon.com/Cat-Games-Angora-Shade-ebook/dp/B01MSWKT1T/


After writing my debut story, I struggled with what to write next

I don’t like repeating myself. I don’t enjoy tropes and have no desire to be “that author who writes only BDSM.” I wanted to diversify. So I asked myself: what interests you and what do you want to learn about? From there I took those topics and formed stories around them, asking myself what sort of character would be as interested as I am and what would they do?


I’ve explored gay, lesbian, and heterosexual fiction on my writing journey. I’ve dabbled in themes of revenge, BDSM, voyeurism, age diversity, paranormal, religion, and pushing against societal norms. Some stories are PG, some are XXX, others somewhere between. I’m not certain I’ll always write under the erotic, erotica, or erotic romance genres, but I’m going to exhaust all the possibilities I can before I move on to something else. Sex is as diverse and complex as life gets, is something most of us include in our lives, and makes for a wonderful mass of relatable, fantastic, and vivid story fodder.

My Writing Process

Every writer will have a different routine for writing. Mine is completely random, changing a lot between stories and even while working on the same story. Most writers would tell you that my methods are plain stupid and unproductive, and it’s probably true. But whatever. Works for me.

1) I find a subject that interests me.

2) I research.

3) I think about characters and how a story could come of my subject.

4) I start writing. I never outline. My stories fill themselves out inside my head, plot holes and all. When something doesn’t work I take a break and do something else. If for some reason I have to outline, it’s basically a note or two here and there, and not the detailed information authors go into.

5) I do more research when I get stuck, and speak through my ideas with my writing partners (you should have numerous. Very helpful. You can check out my blog post about writing partners here).

6) I kick myself until I finish a story. It’s a struggle for me to get the point of writing “The End,” and I’m sure it always will be. Writing is a labor of love, but it’s not easy.

Advice for other authors

Once in a while an author finds themselves in a rut. This is only normal. It happens. We push through it and get on with whatever. Sometimes we pick up an old manuscript that we shelved a while back, dust it off, and experiment with a new idea, or we sit down and spin a web of something new. 

It’s good to stay fresh. I suggest authors flex their writing muscles whenever possible, whether that means setting daily or weekly goals, participating in author circles and events, or researching and reading about the subjects they like to write about. Don't shy away from keeping up with your craft or you're going to struggle. You have to be a badass.


But even with the best intentions we can end up in a rut. Or maybe we just need a break from what we’re working on. Flash fiction can be a great way to flex sore or rusty writing muscles. 

I’ve participated twice in a Thursday Flash Fiction challenge hosted by author Siobhan Muir. Every Thursday a new prompt is given to authors taken directly the previous week’s winning story. Stories must be original, within a specific word count, and contain the prompt. 

Check out her blog for the latest prompts and stories, and ask to join the FaceBook group if you’re interested. 














Monday, October 23, 2017

New from T. Strange!


Genre: paranormal romance, M/M, contemporary romance
Length: 71,000 words 

About this Book:


Any city is bound to collect restless dead. Armed with the notebook of Icelandic magic his ex boyfriend, Bone, gave him, Edward Grey has been tasked with removing troubled spirits or finding ways for the living and the dead to coexist in harmony. Between planning his wedding with his undead Canadian fiancé, Kit Ward, and his continued studies as a medical student, Edward didn’t need another commitment, but he can’t turn away people who are frightened or in danger. 


A particularly vicious ghost gives Edward an ominous warning—they’re coming—and a few days later Edward’s notebook is stolen from him. While he’s attempting to find it, he and his mentor, Mariel, are confronted by a very powerful necromancer and barely escape with their lives. 

On the run, Edward is pursued everywhere he goes, until the necromancers following him manage to capture Kit. 

Edward’s hunt for his kidnapped fiancé will take him to the underworld and beyond.

Excerpt: 

I was sweating by the time I arrived at Bone’s apartment. I pressed the buzzer for his unit and waited. I was terrified that I’d be grabbed at any moment, that Bone wasn’t home, that they’d already gotten to him and were holding him at gunpoint—it crossed my mind that he’d probably find that sexy, and I dismissed the thought as quickly as possible—and were waiting upstairs to capture me. I had almost convinced myself to walk away, to come up with another plan—though I had no other ideas—when the speaker crackled to life. 

“’lo?” Bone’s voice sounded muffled, like his mouth was full. Was he gagged? Was he with someone? 

“Who is it?” he asked, when I took too long to answer. 

“It’s Ed—ward.” I’d almost called myself Ed; he’d trained me well. 

I definitely heard him swallow. “Ed! Come on up, I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

That couldn’t be good. Maybe he was trying to talk me into a threesome, with someone who wasn’t Kit—not that Kit could ever be convinced, for love or money, to sleep with Bone.

The door buzzed and I pulled it open automatically, no longer sure I wanted to go upstairs, but I needed to find Kit and I couldn’t do it alone. 

The minute I opened the door between the stairs and Bone’s hallway, something felt…wrong. Usually my intuition isn’t very good, but my forearms and the back of my neck prickled. I tapped on Bone’s door, lightly, with one finger. The door swung open; it wasn’t even fully closed, never mind locked. Not like Bone, not at all. He’s paranoid about security. He usually doesn’t even let me in without physically seeing me first. The hall was strangely quiet, too. Bone usually has screaming, throbbing metal rock music playing. I have no idea why his neighbours haven’t gotten him kicked out of the building—maybe they’ve met him.

A small, triangular face appeared in the doorway, the movement—low to the ground and inhuman—startling me, but it was only one of Bone’s many ‘rescue’ ghost cats. 

I clucked to her, and she very cautiously stalked over to me, most of her going through rather than out the door. I wondered, briefly, how Bone kept the ghost cats from wandering. 

Petting the cat felt like I was stroking fur submerged in icy water. I was so hot from fear and walking in my unseasonably warm coat that the coolness was almost a relief.

I’d delayed long enough. I nudged the door open, wide enough for more than a cat to pass through. The ghost cat escorted me inside, marching in front of me, kinked tail held high and proud. I couldn’t see any visible signs of how she’d died, the way I could with some of them, and I was okay with that. 

The apartment was dark—not only were the windows covered, as usual, in thick blackout curtains, but the lights were all out, except for one at the end of the hall. The bathroom light. Why was Bone in the bathroom, with the door open, when he knew I’d be coming up right away?

The clowder of ghostly felines glowed softly in the darkness, the intensity gently rising and falling to the rhythm of their purrs. It was both beautiful and eerie at the same time. Kind of like Bone himself. 

“Hello?” I stepped around several ghost cats, trying not to look at them too carefully so I wouldn’t have to see the gruesome injuries some of them bore. I also had to make sure I didn’t step on Bone’s one living cat, a Ukrainian Levkoy named Rasputin. 

“I’m in here,” Bone replied, his voice still oddly muffled. Was he eating in the bathroom?



Learn more about the Undead Canadian Series: Here





About the Author:


T. Strange didn't want to learn how to read, but literacy prevailed and she hasn't stopped reading—or writing—since. She's been published since 2013, and she writes M/M romance in multiple genres. T.'s other interests include cross stitching, gardening, watching terrible horror movies, playing video games, and finding injured pigeons to rescue. 

Originally from White Rock, BC, she lives on the Canadian prairies, where she shares her home with her wife, cats, guinea pigs, and a small dog. She's very easy to bribe with free food and drinks—especially wine.

Find T. Strange Online:

Facebook      Facebook Author Page     Twitter     Blog     Mailing list

Pinterest     Instagram     Tumblr

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

New Gay Collection


Paranormal Gay Menage and Erotic Romance

Available in print and ebook October 13; pre-order now!

About This Book:

Myths, moons, and mayhem make the perfect threesome—and so do the men in this anthology. 

Enjoy nine erotic stories of paranormal ménages a trois fueled by lust and magic, where mystical forces collide with the everyday world and even monsters have their own demons to conquer. 

A werewolf gets a lust-fueled lesson on fitting in with the pack, a professor unlocks ancient secrets and two men’s hearts, and a pair of supernaturals find themselves at the erotic mercy of a remarkable human. Ghosts, fairies, aliens, and mere mortals test the boundaries of their desires, creating magic of their own.

Penned by favorite authors such as Rob Rosen and Clare London, as well as by newcomers to the genre, Myths, Moons & Mayhem is an eclectic mix of paranormal lust and polymythic beings that will spark your fantasies and fuel your bonfires.

Inside Man by Clare London—At a London pub, a tear in the veil between the dead and living opens up new possibilities for a ghost who could only ever watch the men he desired, but never touch.

The Secret of the Golden Cup by Rebecca Buchanan—A classics professor finds himself at the center of a magical war. With an unfairly attractive student and a campus janitor as his only allies, can he stave off the forces of evil?

When The Big Moon Shines by Carl Redlum—A college student is intent on hunting down the man who turned him into a werewolf. But his mouthwatering neighbors keep getting in the way.

Careful What You Wish For by Elizabeth Coldwell—Josh dreams of meeting Mr. Right, so his roommate offers help with a love spell. Neither man is prepared for what happens when the spell begins to work.

The Cave by Dale Cameron Lowry—Losing sleep to the sounds of his tent-neighbors’ nightly lovemaking has nature photographer Ethan at his wit’s end. What kind of magic can convince the two men he should join them?

The Endless Knot by Morgan Elektra—The fiery romance between a vampire and a werewolf threatens to burn itself to the ground until a human teaches them to temper the flame.

Squatchin’ by Greg Kosebjorn—Two Bigfoot hunters get more than they bargained for when they set out on an overnight camping trip to trail the legendary beast.

Celyn’s Tale by Rhidian Brenig Jones—A young Welsh farmer is haunted by visions of his future lover, only to discover that the lover is not one, but two—and not exactly human, either.

Close Encounter of the Three-way Kind by Rob Rosen—In this quirky comedy, aliens arrive from another galaxy, but they’re more interested in consensual exploration than invasion. Alien probing never felt so good!

Excerpt from "Inside Man" by Clare London:

I haven’t had the luxury of a cock in hand for a long, long time. 

Not my own, and not anyone else’s. Because that’s what happens when you snuff it. The loss of corporeal touch, that is. You get used to it over time, believe me—those early days of stepping through the back of a sofa, grabbing for a handhold when you fall and watching your arm just pass through a decoupaged coffee table; they’re thankfully in the past—but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss it. 

You know what I mean, right? There are times when sexual need is a pure, unadulterated agony, when the desire is as mentally strong as ever, but the limbs won’t respond. Times when I’d give up all the new benefits—you know, sharper hearing, no need to buy a train ticket, free front seats at the gig of my choice, and the chance to see what politicians are really doing behind closed doors with their expense accounts—just for the chance to feel my own junk again. To scratch my pubes. To fold my palm around my dick and feel the sheath crinkle and stretch. To reach a finger down to nudge my balls. To sigh with the cleanest, simplest pleasure of all, of satisfying myself. 

And one of those times is right fucking now, watching these two guys together. 

They’re a gorgeous couple: not model material, or that overgroomed, city trader look. They’re just young, living life, naturally good-looking, and… really fine. Just over an hour ago, they came into this bar on Blackfriars Bridge, at the end of a long, languidly hot London day. The place is packed with tourists eating overpriced snacks while fanning themselves frantically with their A–Z maps, kids whining because the signal for their phones is unreliable, and city workers who’ve discarded their jackets and ties, surrendering to the damp clamminess of their shirts, and are gulping sauvignon blanc like it’s water. It’s Friday, the end of the working week. 

This is one of my favourite places: you see a huge cross-section of humanity here, whatever time of day or night I visit. Which, let’s face it, is all much the same to me. 

These guys are now sitting at a corner table, sheltered from the crowds at the bar, their heads leaning toward each other, almost touching, but not quite. There’s a tangible spark between them. I see it in the way each one’s gaze is fixed on the other; the way their fingers brushed together when Guy #1 passed a pint over to Guy #2. Yet they’re discreet. No embraces, no caresses. Maybe they’re not out to their workmates. Maybe they’re just modest in public. But the familiarity I see between them implies they’ve been a couple for a while. 

Guy #1 is on the left, the taller of the two, even sitting down, with a shallow buzz cut of black hair, a neat beard, and bronzed forearms. He’s in a tailored suit, his shirtsleeves rolled up against the heat, the front of his crisp white shirt a little creased over a stocky torso. His shoes are pinching—I can tell by the way he’s stuck his feet out from under the table and is rubbing one against the other—and his shoulder muscles are tight with tension. 

If I still had my touch, I could massage it away. I used to be bloody good at that. 

Guy #2 is on the right. He’s younger, with plenty of upper body muscle but slimmer hips and legs, and shaggy hair half scooped up under his beanie. He’s dressed more casually in jeans and a polo shirt, his hands coarser, his boots dirty from brick dust and long-ingrained paint. He’s more relaxed than his partner, but bolder too. How can I know that? I can’t always explain how I do. For now, it’s something about the easy way he’s stretched out his legs under the table, the fact that he seems restless sitting down, and restricted by the limited space in the pub. His smile is quick to appear, though it’s quenched as swiftly. His hand darts across the table top, as if to grasp the other guy’s, but stalls somewhere behind the menu holder, cradling the salt cellar instead. 

Perhaps he knows the touch isn’t welcomed. His frown tells me he’s not pleased about it. 

What’s the problem between them? 

Has it just been a shitty day at work? Have they argued? I shift, as much as my postlife movement can be measured by human terms, and examine those expressions more closely. Guy #1 is angry; tense. But despite that, he adores Guy #2, he wants him like breath. That’s very clear to me—many times I can sense emotions as keenly as I used to savour the smoke from a particularly fine cigar—but there’s something holding him back. His most honest desire? It’s to drag Guy #2 into the gents, find a lockable cubicle, and drop to his knees in front of him. 

About the Editor:

Dale Cameron Lowry’s number one goal in life is getting the cat to stop eating dish towels; number two is to write things that bring people joy. Dale is the author of Falling Hard: Stories of Men in Love and a contributor to more than a dozen anthologies. Find out more at dalecameronlowry.com, or contact Dale at mmm@dalecameronlowry.com.

Links:


Authors: Rebecca Buchanan, Elizabeth Coldwell, Rhidian Brenig Jones, Morgan Elektra, Greg Kosebjorn, Clare London, Dale Cameron Lowry, Carl Redlum, Rob Rosen

Publisher: Sexy Little Pages

Universal Buy Link: https://books2read.com/mythsmoons



Friday, October 6, 2017

Choose Your Pleasure




Curl up this Fall and get your Halloween vibes going! "Choose Your Pleasure: The Dragon's Gift, A Lesbian Tale" is releasing October 11th, 2017!


In this unique title, you become the main character, the story design yours to create. In addition to the original story thread, there are multiple new pathways to choose from, five different love interests, and a dozen possible endings. Will you find a happily ever after, a content existence, or a situation that completely surprises you? The choice is yours.

"You," the college student, have been in love with Maxine as long as you can remember, but Maxine is straight, isn't she? Despite feeling you have little chance, you sit through Maxine’s latest theatre performance about a dragon to show your never ending support as her best friend. Besides, Maxine’s promise of a surprise for you following the show has piqued your interest. But what happens at the show? Do you bump into an old flame, meet a busty beauty, connect with a curly haired stranger, lose your sanity, or curl up next to the love of your life? In the dark, under the stage, inside a restroom or a bar, the allure and desire for a happy ending is within reach... Choose wisely.

This book contains graphic descriptions of intimacy and is intended for an adult audience. 

Find this book on Radish Fiction

You can read the FREE version of the original short story on Radish Fiction

Read about the writing process of this type of story here on the blog

Coming to Amazon November 30th, 2017

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

The Choose Your Pleasure Experience

There’s always that one story you wish had ended differently and an alternate decision or direction you think your favorite character could have taken. These are the stories that eat away at the mind, living on in the imagination, the possibilities begging to be explored. And they can be. 

While writing The Dragon’s Gift, I originally planned a very dark ending. In order to please my then-publisher, I curbed my ending to something entirely different from what I had in mind to fall within their guidelines. As I thought over this experience, I realized my story could have ended in any number of ways. Not only could they, but they should have. This was when I decided to expand upon my original plot, throwing myself full on into my first Choose Your Pleasure style book.

This was an experiment in where I learned many things.
1) Multiple plots means multiple stories
2) It would be more challenging than I anticipated
3) You can get sued for using trademarks like "Choose Your Own Adventure" and it's best to google/check online that your title/idea isn't the property of someone else.

While writing Choose Your Pleasure: The Dragon’s Gift, A Lesbian Tale, I ran into some challenges. 

The first thing I struggled with was maintaining a good balance of possibilities. Classic CYOA books have happily ever afters, happy for nows, death endings, unhappy endings, and runarounds where multiple plot lines converge. The story twists and turns in the second person point of view and literally sucks the reader in. The advantage to this is that the reader (to the extent of the author’s imagination) is responsible for their own destiny, and if unhappy with the outcome, can go back and explore a new pathway. There’s never a reason to put the book down or cast it aside because it’s disliked. After exploring the outcomes I originally wished to have happen for my story, I had to go back through and determine how I could also include the classic plotlines that were missing. This proved difficult for me as an author due to my complete lack of ability to outline. I’ve always struggled at planning ahead on paper or on the computer. My stories are usually organic, growing inside my head and transferring to the keyboard at the pace of thought. But my traditional writing ways weren’t good enough for this project. I had to plot ahead. A lot.

Another problem I ran into were plotlines that didn’t go anywhere or ran in circles. It’s true that traditional CYOA books allow for such things, but too much runaround irritates the reader. To avoid this, new plot lines have to be created, which produces additional story threads at an exponential rate. Too many directions become impossible to keep track of no matter what system you’re using. As a result, some endings are more abrupt than others. Still, this happened in the classic tales as well.

Although challenging and requiring significant time to create, I can honestly say that I’m satisfied with the outcome. The best part of this project was being able to delve into a story and explore all the possibilities that my creativity desired. I was even forced to create options I never foresaw in order to complete the book. I enjoyed the experience enough to desire writing another one. I always look forward to discovering new ways to write a story and improve upon my craft.

You can find my Choose Your Pleasure: The Dragon's Gift, A Lesbian Tale, on Radish Fiction as of October 11th 2017 (where many chapters are available for free, or on Amazon mid November 2017)

Saturday, September 30, 2017

Rules of Engagement by Nia Farrell

New release from Wicked Pen Writer Nia Farrell!



This novella is 19,000 words of Daddy Dom Age Play Erotic Romance! 
Find it on Amazon     Goodreads     Teasers and Excerpts


Corporate attorney Dylan Reynolds hopes to become a first time Daddy Dom with a twenty-two-year old genius whose lack of experience intrigues him. Holly Knox can’t deny her attraction to Dylan, but she’s never had a serious relationship, let alone been with a Dominant who’s into the BDSM lifestyle. He’s promised to show her a world of flavors beyond vanilla, but he wants to start with a spanking. Can this innocent embrace ageplay and be Daddy’s good girl?

Written for Ages 18+.



Exclusive Excerpt:


Holly Knox was naturally submissive but so painfully shy, a stranger might never guess that she was a genius who could be the next Bill Gates. However fucking high she ranked in MENSA, the twenty-two-year-old entrepreneurial software designer was a wide-eyed innocent when it came to BDSM. Then again, when he was her age—some sixteen years ago—he was still learning the ropes, as it were.

Blushing furiously, she stared at him from across the table he’d chosen, in a dimly lit corner at the far end of the hotel lounge. He watched, fascinated, as that brilliant mind of hers processed what he’d just proposed—a night of kinky debauchery and the best sex of her life.

“I mean…you…you…you can’t be serious,” she stammered. While a lot of men wouldn’t look beyond the no-nonsense glasses, Dylan saw everything. Her heart-shaped face. Delicious, pouty lips. Satin cheeks. Initially flushed with embarrassment, the pink had quickly edged toward the red he wanted to see on her tush after he disciplined her ass.

Her emerald eyes were as clear as glass and lushly fringed with curling lashes that went on for miles, even without mascara. She’d worn makeup tonight, which told him something. She was usually scrub-faced. With such incredible skin and that air of innocence, she’d be in her thirties before she stopped getting carded.

So young. So innocent. So fucking ripe for the picking.

He cocked a brow and offered half a smile. She’d been resistant and he’d been patient, but this was going to happen, one way or another. It was simply a matter of getting her to agree to his preferences. He felt good about his chances; he’d made a small fortune from his powers of persuasion—although corporate law was proving far simpler than this complex young woman, who hid her femininity under frumpy clothes and her genius IQ behind conservative black-framed eyewear.

Just because she was reclusive to a point bordering on sociopathic didn’t mean she couldn’t be coaxed from her shell. After all, he’d talked her into meeting him for a drink, and she didn’t even do alcohol.

“You can’t,” she repeated.

First mistake. Topping from the bottom. That’s ten.

She folded her arms across her pert little A-cup breasts and put on her game face, narrowing her brilliant green eyes and snapping her red head, tossing flames. She was a tiny thing, barely five feet tall in ballet flats. He’d have to be careful with that exquisite skin. Every mark was going to show.

“We can’t,” she huffed.

Nice try. Twenty.

“I w-won’t.”

She stumbled on the words. Her eyes widened when she realized that it sounded like she was wavering.

Twenty-five. Only because he was feeling generous.

He stroked the stubble on his jaw. Three days without shaving, just for her. He slid his gaze south, watched her nipples harden to diamond points beneath her buttoned-to-the-neck blouse, heard the catch in her breath, and caught the unmistakable scent of her arousal. She might not imbibe the fruit of the vine, but there was no way in hell that her abstinence extended to pleasures of the flesh.

“Really?” He parried a verbal thrust and pinned her with his gaze. The combination of Dom eyes and Dom voice was enough to make her shut the fuck up—for the space of about three breaths.

Looking wistfully at his untouched whiskey, he imagined the smooth, smoky burn of thirty-year-old single malt sliding down his throat. Across the table, Holly scanned the area to make certain that no one was in earshot. “It’s…it’s demeaning,” she hissed. “Misogynistic.”

Thirty.

She was trouble. He knew it. But beneath that prim and proper librarian-esque façade was a passionate beauty just waiting to be awakened. Trouble? Hell, yes, but so worth the effort.

Although it had been a few years since he’d trained a novice submissive, the lesson plan remained, beginning with the basics. He set his glass aside, in deference to her, as a sign of his willingness to compromise. “A dominant must prove himself worthy of his submissive’s trust,” he told her. “To be allowed to meet your needs is an honor for you to give and for me to earn. Tell me, Holly. And be honest. Do you trust me?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and shied her glance away. “Yes. I guess.” Fingering the stem of her glass, she exhaled softly. “You’ve never given me any reason not to, but that was business. This is…” She lifted a hand and gestured helplessly, not ready to acknowledge what he already knew.

“Pleasure,” he finished her sentence. “Pleasure—ideally, far beyond what you’ve ever experienced or known. Holly, you should understand, I don’t do anything halfway. I believe that intimate acts should be…extraordinary, whether it’s a hot, hard fuck, an all-night sexual marathon, or multiple, mind-blowing orgasms—pleasures taken, pleasure given, preferably with sexual intercourse, but only if you’re ready.”

Behind those black-framed lenses, her eyes were wide. Thoughtful. He wondered if she knew just how sexy she was, blushing like a school girl on prom night.

“I want to know what tempts you. Learn what you’ll let me do, to tease you, to please you. I wonder, what can I do that feels so good, it sends you spiraling out of control and I won’t stop until I hold you, shattered, in my arms? Eroticism, kink—they’re just different points on the compass. Whatever path we take, it all comes down to the seduction of the senses. Getting there…well, every nuance, every detail matters. Whatever I choose—believe me—is for the enhancement of your pleasure and mine. If plain and simple is all you’ll consider…I’ll be honest. I won’t like it but I can accept it, and I’ll make certain that you’re satisfied. But there’s a world of flavors beyond vanilla. Nothing would please me more than to give you a taste.”


About the Author

Nia Farrell is a founding member of the Wicked Pens and an award-winning, multi-genre author who is published in romance, erotic romance, nonfiction, poetry, music, and children's books, with one documentary screenplay under her literary belt. A seventh-generation Illinoisan, she's an old soul and a period reenactor who's been into corsets for centuries, although she wears them more to Civil War events these days. 

Living close to St. Louis, Missouri, on the east side of the river, Nia has been involved in the metaphysical community for over twenty-five years. She is a Reiki Master and crystal healer whose work encompasses this and other lifetimes. In her book Something More (The Three Graces Book 3), BDSM and submission are tools for healing post-rape PTSD. Something More was a finalist for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, in the 2016 Golden Flogger Awards. Find Her, the first book in her latest series, Avenging Angels MC, reached #9 on Amazon’s best seller list for BDSM Erotica.

Her debut books from The Three Graces Series (Something Else, Something Different, and Something More) are kink with a paranormal twist. Soul mates, reincarnation, karmic fallout, shamanism, and psychic abilities come into play. Personal experience and extensive research go into crafting her characters, but it's her sense of whimsy that has made fictional Posey, Minnesota, the ménage capital of the United States with a Monty-Python-themed diner that's central to the plotlines. 

Nia was fortunate enough to meet her soul mate early on. She married her high school sweetheart, raised two children, and began writing at her husband's suggestion. She has been published in erotic romance since 2015.

Find Nia Farrell Online:

Nia Farrell’s webpage http://niafarrell.wordpress.com

Nia Farrell’s Amazon author page http://viewauthor.at/NiaFarrell

Nia Farrell’s Facebook author page http://bit.ly/NiaFarrellFB

Nia Farrell newsletter http://bit.ly/NiaErinnNews

Farrell’s Foxes, Nia Farrell’s Street Team page https://www.facebook.com/farrellsfoxes

Nia Farrell’s Wicked Pens author page https://wickedpens.wordpress.com/nia-farrell/

Nia Farrell’s Goodreads author page http://goodreads.com/Nia_Farrell

Twitter https://twitter.com/AuthrNiaFarrell

Tumblr http://authorniafarrell.tumblr.com/

Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/authrniafarrell/

Google+ https://plus.google.com/+NiaFarrellAuthor

INTERVIEWS:

R.B. O’Brien interview http://rbobrien.weebly.com/news-and-featured-authors/archives/08-2016.

Lilah E. Noir interview https://lilahenoir.wordpress.com/2016/08/04/author-spotlight-nia-farrell/, and

Pandora Spocks interview https://pandoraspocks.me/2016/05/05/watch-this-space-something-special-by-nia-farrell/

Always Sexy/Lola White interview (with my sex-gone-wrong scene) http://authorlolawhite.tumblr.com/post/148734078407/nia-farrell-is-one-of-mr-blackthornes-wicked-pen

Internet Radio: Anything Goes with Bennet Pomerantz http://www.blogtalkradio.com/bennetpomerantz2/2017/05/13/anything-goes-nia-farrell

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Keeper by Nia Farrell

Your fall intense read:




43,000 words of secrets, discoveries, and D/s. You can find this book here:

Amazon               Goodreads 

Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan and Isabella Castellari have a history. Kind of. He’s a member of the Avenging Angels MC and one of four brothers whom she thinks slept with her sister three years ago. Or did they? Nothing is as it seems. Isabella’s world is turned upside down when lies are exposed, truths revealed, and the man she’s been fantasizing about for three long years makes her an offer that she should refuse but can’t.

When Mad Dog recognizes Isabella stranded on a rural country road, remembering her toxic sister, he almost doesn't stop. Seeing her as an end to a means, he brings her back to the Avenging Angels MC clubhouse and quickly learns that she's different—very different—than what he expected. She's a curious innocent, and willing to submit to his domination. But there are complications. A mob boss uncle, protective parents, a traitorous friend, and secrets that have been kept for far too long. Secrets that will either bind them together or tear them apart.

This book has adult content and may contain triggers. Written for ages 18+.



Read an exclusive excerpt:

He couldn’t deny, it was a huge ego stroke to know that he was her first. But she was also Isabella Fucking Castellari. Never Miss Little Italy like her sister, but they shared the same blood ties to the fucking mob.

Of course, Isabella didn’t know that he knew about her crime family connection. He’d been keeping too many fucking secrets for too fucking long. Her sister Krissy and her Uncle Giovanni were just some of many.

Rather than open that can of worms, he chose a safer subject.

“So, tell me.” Reaching, he smoothed her hair back from her face and traced the line of her jaw with two fingers. “Before tonight, did you know that Anna was seeing Richie?”

She sighed softly. “No. I mean, I thought that she was seeing someone, but she always had an excuse. Usually, it was homework, but then we graduated and she was still too busy.”

Fuck.

Mad Dog forced his voice to stay calm. “How old are you, Isabella?” Please tell me you’re not jail bait on top of a mob boss’s niece.

“I turned eighteen on March sixth. Michelangelo’s birthday. And the day the Alamo fell, if you’re into Texas history. How old are you?”

“Thirty.” Twelve years her senior. He rubbed a hand across his face and blew out softly. “Jesus, that sounds old.”

Reaching across, she caught his dog tags, weighed them in her hand, and said solemnly, “You’re not old. You’re experienced. And I’m hoping that you’ll teach me.”

He leveled a look at her. He needed to be honest, at least in this. “Clubhouse life isn’t for everyone,” he told her. “We do things different here. We’re all in the BDSM lifestyle as well as the club. The men here Dominate. The women submit. Did you read Fifty Shades or watch the movies?”

Isabella nodded.

“Well, fuck that shit. That’s not how things are done. You want to learn? We’ll get cleaned up and go downstairs. The lounge is your classroom. You’ll learn things there that they don’t teach in college. Are you signed up to go anywhere this fall?”

“SIU,” she said. “For photography and graphic design.”

He remembered the point-and-shoot he’d found in her purse. “You a shutterbug?”

“You could say that. I took my first picture when I was four. Got my own camera when I was six. I never leave home without one.”

“And the graphic design?”

“You know all those books on my reader? Someone does the covers. Might as well be me. Take the pictures, offer premades and customs. It’s something that I think I’d enjoy and be good at. I’ve already done one for my cousin. She uses a pen name so that no one knows she writes erotica. She tells people that she’s a ghost writer and can’t disclose anything.”

“She had you do a cover? Like, with models? Naked models?”

Isabella bit her lip and coiled a strand of hair around her finger. “Well, it is erotica,” she said coyly.

He wasn’t smiling. She was eighteen, for Christ’s sake. What the hell was her cousin thinking?

“Just teasing!” She traced his lips with the pad of her index finger. He caught it between his teeth and refused to give it back until her eyes had gone smoky and her thoughts were disjointed. “She, um…” Isabella cleared her throat and tried again. “She dressed up like a cheerleader. The cover shows her chest and midriff. You…um…you can’t see her face.”

“Paperback or just e-book?”

“Both.” She smiled with quiet pride. “I have a copy, if you’d like to see it.”

“I would.” If they were going to try and make a go of this, he needed to know what she was doing. What she had planned. Then he’d expand her horizons where he could.

“And the graphic design—apart from the book covers. Can you draw?”

“Yes.”

“Paint?”

Her brow scrunched. “Yes? Some? That’s not my—”

“Sweet. You could learn to tattoo.”

“Wait. What?” She looked at him, confused. He’d gone too fast and lost her. Now she was trying to get her bearings.

He shifted gears. “How about a summer job? You working anywhere?”

“No. I’m taking two online classes. Getting some of the required subjects taken care of so that I can immerse myself in the good stuff come fall.”

“The club owns a tat shop. Angel Ink. Flynn will need to see what you can do, but if you pass muster and want a full- or part-time job, he can use the help. Front desk scheduling, answering the phone, checking in deliveries. Normal receptionist-office assistant stuff. He can teach you on the side, if you want to learn. Never hurts to learn another job skill, just in case the market for photography tanks, no one’s hiring graphic designers, and your cousin can’t afford what you’re worth.”

That last bit seemed to perk her up. “How do you know what I’m worth?” she challenged. “My professors might think that I suck.”

He begged to differ. “As your teacher, I would say that your oral skills need developed, but the student shows promise. Think you’re ready for your next lesson?”

Mad Dog caught her hand and wrapped her fingers around his half-hard shaft. “Just a hint. The correct answer is yes….”


About the Author


Nia Farrell is a founding member of the Wicked Pens and an award-winning, multi-genre author who is published in romance, erotic romance, nonfiction, poetry, music, and children's books, with one documentary screenplay under her literary belt. A seventh-generation Illinoisan, she's an old soul and a period reenactor who's been into corsets for centuries, although she wears them more to Civil War events these days. 

Living close to St. Louis, Missouri, on the east side of the river, Nia has been involved in the metaphysical community for over twenty-five years. She is a Reiki Master and crystal healer whose work encompasses this and other lifetimes. In her book Something More (The Three Graces Book 3), BDSM and submission are tools for healing post-rape PTSD. Something More was a finalist for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, in the 2016 Golden Flogger Awards. Find Her, the first book in her latest series, Avenging Angels MC, reached #9 on Amazon’s best seller list for BDSM Erotica.

Her debut books from The Three Graces Series (Something Else, Something Different, and Something More) are kink with a paranormal twist. Soul mates, reincarnation, karmic fallout, shamanism, and psychic abilities come into play. Personal experience and extensive research go into crafting her characters, but it's her sense of whimsy that has made fictional Posey, Minnesota, the ménage capital of the United States with a Monty-Python-themed diner that's central to the plotlines.

Nia was fortunate enough to meet her soul mate early on. She married her high school sweetheart, raised two children, and began writing at her husband's suggestion. She has been published in erotic romance since 2015.

Website, Author Pages, and Social Media Links:

Nia Farrell’s webpage http://niafarrell.wordpress.com

Nia Farrell’s Amazon author page http://viewauthor.at/NiaFarrell

Nia Farrell’s Facebook author page http://bit.ly/NiaFarrellFB

Nia Farrell newsletter http://bit.ly/NiaErinnNews

Farrell’s Foxes, Nia Farrell’s Street Team page https://www.facebook.com/farrellsfoxes

Nia Farrell’s Wicked Pens author page https://wickedpens.wordpress.com/nia-farrell/

Nia Farrell’s Goodreads author page http://goodreads.com/Nia_Farrell

Twitter https://twitter.com/AuthrNiaFarrell

Tumblr http://authorniafarrell.tumblr.com/

Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/authrniafarrell/

Google+ https://plus.google.com/+NiaFarrellAuthor

INTERVIEWS:

R.B. O’Brien interview http://rbobrien.weebly.com/news-and-featured-authors/archives/08-2016.

Lilah E. Noir interview https://lilahenoir.wordpress.com/2016/08/04/author-spotlight-nia-farrell/, and

Pandora Spocks interview https://pandoraspocks.me/2016/05/05/watch-this-space-something-special-by-nia-farrell/

Always Sexy/Lola White interview (with my sex-gone-wrong scene) http://authorlolawhite.tumblr.com/post/148734078407/nia-farrell-is-one-of-mr-blackthornes-wicked-pen

Internet Radio: Anything Goes with Bennet Pomerantz http://www.blogtalkradio.com/bennetpomerantz2/2017/05/13/anything-goes-nia-farrell