Thursday Thoughts: Nerdgasm (and more) News

So there’s this book I’m writing, called Nerdgasm. I may have mentioned it once or twice. Anyway. Judy and Max are almost through the first round of revisions. Meaning I’ve gone through all but the last 3… 4? scenes and have transcribed them into a Google Doc, at which point, I let a buddy read them and make a couple comments, and then transcribe — again — into a Word document.

This seems to be working for me. Right now. I still need to post all these refreshed scenes/chapters to Scribophile for further critique from my pals there to really nail this thing down. But I’m SO CLOSE! I’ll still have this baby available in ebook and print on Black Friday.

When I can’t concentrate enough on Judy and Max, I have this other thing that popped up. I said, “I just want to get the idea down.”

Right. Uh-huh. At the moment, I’m calling it Cameo. But I hate the title.

Hiddles Kiddo Hug.gifPrompted by this gif (seriously, I could watch it all day), I’ve had the idea in my head for a while to have a well-known celebrity (made up, of course) who is acosted by a preschool-aged fan who takes off on Mom when she’s not looking so they can go meet the celeb.

Celeb then has to go find the panicking parent. And… there’s chemistry, and sparks fly, and in the end, they’re together.

Now… I love Tom Hiddleston, don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t want to base my actor on him. And when I started writing, it came out that the parent with a missing kid was actually a man. My brain defaults to het couples. But then the kid showed up, tugging on “Misser Low-kissed’s” shirt. Oh. Okay. I guess we’re writing gay romance this time. Cool beans. (My characters do their own thing.)MMC1 & MMC2.JPG

And then we got around to the bit where the kid is actually his niece. Okay, so why does he have his niece? He’s going to a business lunch… Oh, the sitter is out sick, and his other options are out of town. Okay, so why does he have custody of the kid? Oh… Mom & Dad are no longer with us. Which of the parents was his sibling? Mom? Okay — OH! She’s his twin sister? Oh crap. It was a Christmas morning home invasion gone horribly, horribly, horribly wrong. How long ago was that? Was that this past Christmas? Or the one before? This kid is only four. Scratch that — she’s three. Yes, this is pretty much my thought process. But then…

Okay, so those are my character inspirations for Oliver and Parker. Here’s Coby, without whom these two might not ever have found each other…FMC

 

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Tuesday Tease: The Prussian Dispatch

51wjGcKvEQL._SX326_BO1,204,203,200_David Nielson may not write romance, but he does weave the threads of mystery and crime seamlessly into his Sophie Rathenau series! Here’s a sample of the first in the historical crime series, The Prussian Dispatch.

***

With nothing in her purse, Sophie Rathenau can’t refuse work, even from a down-at-heel pimp. But tracing the woman who’s gone off with his document is a chancy business. A gang of Prussian maniacs are hunting for it too, as well as thugs from the shadowy Versailles Club, and a Polish countess desperate to preserve her country. Caught up in an international conspiracy, Sophie’s only weapons are her sardonic tongue and an old cavalry pistol. But it’ll take more than those to find the dispatch, keep a vengeful Chancellor at bay, and deal with a past that threatens to engulf her. “The Prussian Dispatch” is the first in a series of novels from the era of Mozart and Maria Theresia.

Sophie Rathenau remembers the evening before her wedding in 1760s Dresden, just after the Seven Years’ War.
Late sunlight glistens on the dome of Our Lady’s. Sapphire with azure spots, my dirndl is thin, but my blouse is puffed at the shoulders, blue stitching at the neck and sleeves.
We don’t have much of anything. Half the world is ruined. But the war is over.
I lounge in the glow, a silk wrap tight at my elbows. The stone bench has soaked up warmth all day. It tingles through the grit under my soles. I want to sit here forever. I want to watch the river flow, count the arches of the Augustus Bridge.
“Good of them to call it after you,” I murmur.
His head shifts near mine. I lean against his shoulder, my eyes half closed, fixed on two joined dragonflies.
“Madame,” he says, “your nose is in my ear.” There’s a scroll of gold embroidery at his burgundy collar, a modest ruff at his neck. After the uniform, he doesn’t care for a patterned jacket.
“By dose is itchy.” I rub it from side to side. That ear’s a bit deaf since he came back. I settle my chin beside it, my cheek on his hay-coloured stubble.
His fingers slip into my hair, easing strand from strand. “I had a retriever who laid her head on my shoulder like that.” His voice is as warm as the stone, but I don’t hear the Salzburg hinterland the way I used to. He’s been gone a while.
I growl. “And you’re supposed to be a diplomat.” His ear is neat, tucked-in. I run the tip of my tongue around its rim.
“Daun’s the diplomat. All I do is keep quiet and look fierce.”
I press my ribs against his, thinking I smell pine needles. I always do with him. “Stick to what you’re good at.” I know that Daun values his opinion on the clauses.
His lower lip juts out. Its fullness would seem petulant on another man, his chin fleshy. I think they round out a square and solid face. “You have a bodyguard, too, Fräulein Süssmayr. She’ll be wild.”
I grin. It was easy to lose Aurelia at the Holy Cross. By the time she missed me in the ruins, the shard of its tower stood between us. I walked in the Zwinger and to the Residence, till he came out with Daun and the others.
“I’ll make it up to her.”
My hands, one atop the other, don’t look large on my apron. My naked fingers, shades of sand in the evening sun, tug the knot at the centre of my waist. After tomorrow, I’ll tie it on the right.
The hairs at the tips of his eyebrows are light and fine, hatching into the crinkles around his eyes. “You don’t still want Saint Sophia?”
I smile. “That would be nice. But there’s only one Catholic church in Dresden. If we’re getting married, it has to be in there. And Saint Sophia doesn’t look like that.”
The Court Church is a cutter in full sail, docked on the river. Its tower soars like a mast. He takes hold of my shoulders and eases me around. “Nor that.”
The slim grey bell of Our Lady’s, ringed by four cupolas, rises over the gallery behind us. He shakes his head as he stares up. Behind his hazel eyes there’s a web of scaffolding, hoists, and blocks fitting high above. He loves knowing how things work. I feel, sometimes, he sees me the same way.
I rest my chin on my fists. “Do you ever think that one day people could stand here, gaze up, and not see that? That something so big, so graceful, could disappear?”
It’s a miracle the church is still standing. A lot of the city is rubble. The Prussians weren’t good for it.
He stretches his legs. Gravel scatters, and the sun gleams on the buttons at his knee.
“We’ll be long gone, if that happens.” His hands inch around my waist.
I caress his shoulder. “Careful with that arm.”
“You’ll be Sophie Rathenau.” He squeezes my ribs gently. “Tomorrow.”
The sun slips over the Bastion Sol. I link my wrists at his neck, drawing him to me, saying his name. A last glint laps under the bridge.
*****
Ex-lecturer and educational marketer David Neilson lives on the Rhine growing runner beans, courgettes, and kohlrabi, and writing Sophie Rathenau stories: a historical crime series based in eighteenth-century Vienna.
A personal tour of Sophie’s world, with images of many of the locations, historical characters, and objects in the novels, is available on Pinterest: http://bit.ly/2g2sasi

Tuesday Tease: RedDress Two Wives

51esIG8n9SL._SY346_

Welcome back to Tuesday Tease! This week, I feature Native American contemporary romance author RA Winter’s book RedDress Two Wives.

 

Sarah’s beau left her. She didn’t excite him.
To reinvent herself, she travels to New York, where she meets John. A sexy voice on the phone.
What could go wrong?
Get caught with a vibrating purple…? Check.
Entertaining a threesome with a blow-up doll? Yep.
Geez, and let’s not forget the manure. Esh.

John enjoyed the color splashes, and the dining room table looked fit for a royal dinner. He could see himself here… nope. Don’t go there Johnny boy, she’ll leave soon. For now, it’s all fun for me.

John walked towards the bedroom, his mind on Sarah. She was always a good distraction from work.

Naay. Giddy up there li’l doggie. Ha!

Shut up! Damn.

He rounded the corner and stopped. Sarah sat on the stairs with a whip in hand, vibrator dancing and a…

Blow up doll?

“Ahh, zmy human toy hast arrived,” she said in a funky accent, her voice low and sensual. “Ursula und I zare here to conquer zhe human race and demand ze blood. Zerr blood.” She flicked her whip and jumped up, then marched around him. Her fingers raked down his arm, she grabbed her dangly and turned it on, grinning as it came to life. She unbuttoned her corset and flung it aside. “I’ve been told zzthat a human male can only last zso long before losing control.” Sarah ran her whip over John’s body. She stopped at his maleness and rub it against her. “Ursula is my second in command. She will join us to see who vill zlast zlonger.”

John snickered. He had no idea where this was going, but it sure was different, he’d give her that. Maybe she didn’t mind his stupidity.

She undid his pants, yanking them down toward his knees. Her lips followed her actions as she kissed his skin. His blood pressure skyrocketed and flew through John, pulsating his penis to life. She licked his thigh, stroking his penis as her eyes stared up at him. The dildo buzzed, filling the air with electricity.

“Argh!” A shrill scream ripped through the house, obliterating all fun and amusement.

“Mom, what are they doing?” A sweet girl’s voice asked, her innocence shattered. John turned, horrified to find a family glaring at him. Sarah paused with her mouth open, so close to the throbbing manhood, and gaped at the family. Her lips widened as her eyes darted between the family and John’s erection. Stunned, she balanced on her heels, frozen with horror.

The vibrator buzzed.

A young boy stood with hands on his hips, wearing a sailor t-shirt. His eyes grew as he stared at Sarah and bit his lips. A young girl, a little older stood beside him, her eyes roamed over John. Her brow furrowed. The dad grinned, then caught himself as his wife inhaled. The lady turned red, then purple as veins exploded on her skin.

The little boy inhaled and whispered to his mother, “Will mine turn purple when I’m older, Mommie?”

“Can I play with your dolly when you’re done?” The girl pointed to Ursula.

Sarah’s eyes moved back and forth. Penis, family, penis, family.

“Ahh, but Sissy,” The boy said, “It’s got a big hole in its mouth.”

“It’s a purple people eater,” the girl whispered. Her mother inhaled. “It’s got a one eye and one horn, like the song.” The mom grabbed both children then placed her hands over their eyes. She kicked her husband as he continued to stare at the naked pair.

Sarah inhaled.

The vibrator buzzed.

John grabbed his pants and hurried to pull them on. Prodded into action, Sarah clasped Ursula in front of her nakedness. Crouched low, she waddled towards the stairs, Ersula’s legs in front of her. John slid on the leg and fell headfirst into Sarah’s dildo. Sarah clung to Ursula, and down she went, the heel in an unconventional sandwich.

The husband’s eyes went dreamy. The boy jumped away from his mother and laughed.

“I want to see too,” his sister said. The mother clasped her tighter and dragged her toward her brother. She reached but he evaded her grasp, eyes wide with wonder.

“Wait, let me explain,” John yelled as he squashed Ursula. Her head ballooned under the pressure, her eyes expanded as her mouth widened into an O. John crawled off the ‘girls’, dragging Ursula with him.

The husband stared.

Buzzz.

The mother yelled, grabbed her children and pushed them towards the door. “I’m suing! My children will need therapy for life!”

The boy turned around, “Why does she have a purple pee-pee, isn’t she a girl?”

His mother screamed at him and ushered them towards the door.

The girl yelled, “But, Mommy, I want a dolly too!”

“Paul,” she snapped. She turned and glared at her husband. “Paul!”

“Oh, yes dear,” he said. He took one last, lingering look at Sarah’s body and her buzzing vibrator.

Sarah crouched lower and moaned. She reached for the dildo and fumbled with the switch. The motion increased and so did the sound. Sarah’s eyes widened as she stared at the family.

“Paul!”

“Just getting the details for the lawsuit. Don’t want to leave anything out, now do we?”

“Stop, don’t leave until I explain!” John pleaded to the retreating family.

“Shit!”

“Wait till everybody at school hears about this. A real live purple people eater!”

*****

RA Winter, began her writing career under her married name, writing genealogy books. However, her love for reading romance novels intruded in on her daily activities. She started writing “Little Sparrow” and fell in love with her characters and is writing many more books in the Romantic Western series, “Kiowa in Love”. Each one of Grandfather’s grandchildren will have their story told, as will Grandfather himself. RA spent many years traveling the world and has lived in many different countries. Turkey, Egypt, Germany, and Jordan, have all been called “home” at one time or another. Now you can find her quietly living in Pittsburgh, Pa

Tuesday Tease: Deal with the Devil

51bMhhFklTLAnyone can make a Deal with the Devil. But what would it take to break one? Becca Patterson weaves a twisty-turny short-story tale about exactly that!

Thirty years ago, Delia sold her soul to the devil. It worked out well for her, and she still has ten years left to enjoy the fame and wealth she got from the deal. Now he’s come back and wants to renegotiate.

With a deep breath she plunged into the pool and surfaced about halfway down. The sunny day had become shadowed, though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The air felt frozen and not a single bird or critter broke the silence.

“You’re early,” she said before she saw the one responsible. “I still have ten years on my contract.”

“You have nine years, three hundred days, give or take a couple hours.” The man walked up to her in his always pristine suit that looked better than any designer had ever managed. They said only Jesus could walk on water. Maybe they were right, because the devil stood about an inch above the surface. “I remember how precise you were in that aspect of our contract, Delia Amber Rosso.”

The way he said her full name gave her the shivers. She swam to the side of the pool and levered herself out. “You’d think someone like you would heat the world rather than chill it. Aren’t you the one behind global warming?” Delia didn’t fear the devil. That contract bound him as tightly as it did her. She got luxury and fame for forty years then he got her soul. Not such a bad deal, but he couldn’t do anything to her for ten… no… nine years three hundred days. “Do you think you could tone it down a bit? I’m not dressed for hell freezing over.”

He scowled at her, but the warmth of the sun returned.

“So, since you can’t take me yet, what brings you around?” It never hurt to remind the devil of his limits. Those contracts of his were something to reckon with. She could attest to the power they had to grant wishes.

“I want to change our deal.” Delia stopped with the towel halfway to her hair. She had to have misheard that. The deal couldn’t change, he’d made that perfectly clear before she signed.

“No use begging or crying or trying to banish me by spiritual means.” He laughed that horrid nasally laugh. “Once you sign, that’s it. You get forty years to live with the benefits of a popular book then you come to me.”

“I said,” He pronounced the words with excessive precision, “I want to change our deal.”

“It’s a contract.” Delia turned to face him. “I’ve dealt with plenty of those over the past thirty years, even human made contracts are nearly impossible to break. You said it yourself that the contract couldn’t change.”

He laughed as he dropped into one of the lounge chairs. Still that horrible high pitched nasal laugh. “Precise as always. I did say that, because the thing you need to break a contract is an agreement to break the contract.”

*****

Sci-Fi and Fantasy are just two of Becca Patterson’s preferred genres. An author hailing from Minnesota, she has been writing for as long as she can remember, and takes much of her inspiration from the teenagers she works with. In her spare time, Becca enjoys making her husband laugh, and playing string with her three cats.

Website – https://becca.mreauowpublishing.com

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Becca-Patterson

Twitter – https://twitter.com/Mreauow

 

Tuesday Tease: French Kissed

What happens when an aspiring erotica author writes the story of Drew and Rachel for a “how to write erotica” class? You get French Kissed, by Sammie Maxwell, that’s what!

01 French Kissed

Auto mechanic Drew likes the rough-and-tumble bad-boys, but lately, her spark plugs have been misfiring. Giving in to a blind date, she meets the sophisticated Ray for coffee after work. But there’s more beneath the Frenchman’s tailored coat of polish than she’s ever driven before.

 

 

 

Standing on the sidewalk in front of my motorcycle, I bit the inside of my lip. Normally, I would have been the one to go for the kiss. I swallowed. I really liked him. “Gorgeous n—”
Ray cut me off without a word. His hands framed my face before claiming me on the sidewalk. My lips parted, and his tongue slid against mine, his fingers tangled in my hair, holding me captive.
I explored Ray. The shape and feel of his mouth – firm but gentle, teasing but confident. He tasted of the chocolate mousse we’d shared, with a hint of the coffee he’d sipped. His cologne, sharp and musky, was intoxicating, drawing me in deeper without a word.
He pulled me closer, one hand splayed across my back. My breasts pressed against his chest, my nipples tingling—aching—for his touch. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss. Our tongues clashed, writhed, danced. A hand slid down to my butt and squeezed, drawing a low moan.
A horn honked and someone whistled from a passing car.
“It would appear we have an audience,” Ray commented, his breath hot against my neck.
I pressed my lips to his ear. “Let ‘em watch.”
Ray pulled back to look at me. “Come home with me.”
I pressed myself against him again, and kissed him hard before breaking it off and tracing a finger over his lips. “I’ll be right behind you.”

*****

Sammie Maxwell writes erotic short stories and steamy flash fiction while the rest of the house sleeps. She survives on coffee and wet dreams somewhere in the US.

https://sammie2themaxx.wordpress.com/blog/

https://twitter.com/Sammie2theMax

https://www.facebook.com/Sammie2theMaxx/

https://www.amazon.com/Sammie-Maxwell/e/B01M0NZRNE/

Tuesday Tease: Forbidden Kisses

Being that it’s the Fourth of July here in the U.S., I thought I’d go with something patriotic. So this week’s featured excerpt is from Sha Renée. The Navy veteran weaves us through the courtship of Ethan and Layla, and steams up the room with their Forbidden Kisses.

51dPXlGA7WLWhen Navy pilot, Ethan Parker falls for the woman he met at a coffee shop, he knows she’s the one he’s waited his entire life for. She’s sensual, sassy and smart. What he doesn’t know is she’s also in the Navy, and her enlisted rank means a relationship with her could potentially get him discharged from military service.
While on leave from teaching at a top Naval facility, Layla Matthews tumbles head-over-heels for the sexiest man she’s encountered in a long time. The fact that he can hold an intelligent conversation is an added bonus. Her world is turned upside down when she later discovers he’s a Navy lieutenant. A senior officer. Her new bossDefinitely off-limits.
Continuing their relationship could ruin their military careers. Ending it would break both their hearts. Do they end their sizzling romance or keep it a secret… and pray no one finds out?

For the next forty-five minutes, my coworkers spoke, but I hadn’t a clue what any of them said. My mind was busy replaying the events of the day I first met Ethan. Piercing blue eyes. Beautiful dimples. Coffee. Bathroom. Flirting. Not once had he said anything about the Navy. He had mentioned his new position, but never revealed that he was third in command at an aviation training facility… Had he?

At the conclusion of the staff meeting, everyone emptied the room, but I remained seated, waiting for a chance to confront Lieutenant Parker. I pulled my cell from my pocket and studied the screen, pretending I had a reason to linger. The message notification on my phone startled me.

Ethan: My office. Now.

Me: Are you kidding? I can’t just walk into your office.

Ethan: We need to talk. Wait a few minutes, and then knock on my door.

He stood and left the room without a glance in my direction. My heart beat faster at the sight of him in uniform. Images of the days and nights I’d spent in Ethan’s arms flooded my consciousness. How could neither of us know the other’s military status? How could neither of us think to ask? DAMN.

I walked nervously to the other side of the building where the officers’ offices were. But not before stopping in the head to smooth my hair and blot the oil from my face.

The door to his office was ajar. Should I just go in? Should I knock? I figured I’d better follow standard procedure just in case anyone saw me. I knocked on the door and spoke immediately after. “Request permission to enter, Sir.”

“Granted.” He rose from his desk, walked past me, and shut the door.

Tension radiated through every muscle in my body. We stood for a beat, staring at each other. He had to be thinking the same thing I was: What the f-?

“Layla, what the hell is going on?”

Was he accusing me? Did he think I somehow planned this shit? “You tell me. You never said you were in the Navy. That you were an officer! That you work here. Do you know what this means?”

“Of course, I know what this means. I thought you were a student.”

“I am. I was.”

“You didn’t say you’re also an instructor.” He started to pace. “Here.”

“It didn’t come up. I had other things on my mind.”

“Like what?” Those vivid blue eyes held my gaze.

He was too smart to be that clueless. “Like you.”

His expression softened.

“You didn’t tell me you were the new Director of Training at one of the Navy’s best training facilities.”

“We’ll talk about this later at the hotel.”

“What are you? Crazy? We can’t meet at the hotel. We can’t talk. We can’t text. We can’t anything.”

“We need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“What we’re going to do? There’s nothing we can do. This is it for us. I finally meet the perfect guy… and I can’t have him.”

A knock at the door startled us and we quickly backed away from each other. My heart beat wildly as the Commanding Officer swung the door open and came right toward us.

*****

Sha

Sha Renée is a native New Yorker who joined the US Navy right after high school. She now lives in New Jersey where she creates stories on the pages where duty, honor and passion unite.
A true nature lover, Sha enjoys spending time outdoors, usually with a camera in her hands. She’s has a passion for motorcycles and sports cars and is a fan of auto racing, military air shows and The X Games – pretty much any activity with fast wings or wheels.
She hates cooking, loves music and believes every day should include a cup of hot coffee and a glass of chilled wine.

www.sharenee.com

www.facebook.com/shasplace

www.twitter.com/ShaShaRenee

www.amazon.com/author/sharenee

Tuesday Tease: Londemonium

9i9rquptxsg-lionello-delpiccolo.jpgThis week, I’m featuring an excerpt from Londemonium, an urban fantasy work in progress by Fanni Sütő.

Hell is a multicultural, global enterprise, sprawling in its own dimension like an infernal version of London. Gregor and Molly end up in a flat share with Demi, the demon who abducted their friends. Aiko meets a majestic fox demon who helps her deal with her rage. The same Rei is Raphael’s superior who tries to help him get his naturalisation. Continue reading “Tuesday Tease: Londemonium”

Tuesday Tease: Hunting the Hunter

This week brings a tease from Misty Carlisle’s debut short story, Hunting the Hunter which I had the privilege of beta reading. If you want awkward nerdy types in a sweet romance, this is the story for you!

41iFCMGAGzLDiana is a traveling presenter spending no more than a week in any town. She presents science to high school kids to get them interested in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math) careers. She’s all but given up hope on anything longer than a one-night stand. Hunter is a Chemistry professor at Anteros University, where he is returning from a one year leave to recover from a lab accident. He’s not even looking to add love to his life. They’re perfect for each other, and only have one week to figure it out.

 

“The bar’s empty tonight.” Val pulled the mug back across the bar. “I’ll bring your mug, so go on over and say ‘hi’.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Go on.” Then Val and the mug of chocolaty ambrosia were gone. The hints of peppermint hung in the air, pulling him to follow.
Val was right. He had to come out of his shell at some point. A quiet night at the Bowman’s was as good a time as any. What’s the worst that could happen? I could be rejected by a woman I’ll never meet again. Or it’ll go great, and I’ll still never meet her again. Nothing to lose. Hunter sighed and pushed those thoughts aside. “Hot damn,” he muttered as he slid off the stool. There were nine stools around the curved bar, and he sat in the second from the end on the left. Directly across from him would be the last stool on the right, so five between here and there. His cane would be too cumbersome, so he let his hand drag along the padded leather surface of each stool as he passed.
Three… Four… Five.* “Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?” He might have been talking to empty air.
“Please.” Her rich, inviting alto wrapped him in warmth. “You must be a local.”
“How’d you guess?” He adjusted his orientation.
“You didn’t come in through the hotel lobby.” Her laugh rang lightly. “And you know your way around.”
His cheeks flared with heat.
“I’m sorry.” She added quickly, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“It’s alright,” he lied. “I’m still getting used to it.” Actually, he hated the way most people were so direct about his disability, always trying to do things for him because they couldn’t imagine how he could ever manage without sight. “You must be new to town.” He decided to play her game. “You chose this side of the bar and called me a local.”
She chuckled. “I deserve that.”
They sat there for a moment without saying anything. The scent of her mulled cider mingled with his peppermint hot chocolate when Val thunked his mug in front of him again. He found it by the heat; it’d cooled enough to taste it for real.
“I’m impressed by your observational skills,” she said after a time. “I mean that, really.”
What an odd thing to say. “Um… thank you?”
“No really, I mean it. I’m not sure how you navigated this room, but you did. I saw your cane when you came in, but you didn’t use it on the way over here. You must really know this place. Did you count the chairs? Did Val tell you how many? No, he wouldn’t do that. You figured it out for yourself, and I’m babbling, sorry. But I really am impressed that you found me, and your mug all while blindfolded. I’m shutting up now.”
Hunter’s internal chuckles leaked out when he said, “I am blind.”
“You weren’t always. I’d guess fairly recently – maybe two years?”
It was his turn to be impressed. “Just one.” Her breath caught. He imagined her blushing and staring into her mug. He hated this part, when his accident was the only thing they could think of and yet they didn’t know what else to say. It was so awkward.
“Are you a scientist?”
“What?”
“It’s just…” She scraped her mug around on the counter. “I don’t know… I mean, you just have precision of habit that… The way you arranged the condiments on the other end of the bar, I’d be willing to bet you used atomic numbers to decide whether the salt or pepper should be to the left. It’s the way you counted your steps – your stride is very consistent…” She pushed her mug around in three circles. She might have sighed.
“You… you just seem like a scientist to me.”
“I teach Intro to Chemistry and General Chemistry at Anteros U.” He put his hand over hers. She was cool despite the hot drink she’d just let go of. “How about you? What do you do with your skills?”
“My skills?”
“You’re pretty observant, too.” He shifted his whole body to face her. Now, if he could just get that cheesy grin off his lips. “The way you described me coming in and navigating the bar— very precise and not a lot of supposition. I’d kill to have students who were half as aware as you are.”

***

Misty Carlisle turned to writing when she couldn’t find the kind of worlds she wanted to live in. She loves the freedom to twist plots and tropes and play with an audience’s expectations. Every story starts with a trope and turns it upside down. Tell her she can’t do something, and she takes it as a challenge. The world of Romance is in for a surprise.

Blog – https://mistycarlisle.mreauowpublishing.com
Twitter – https://twitter.com/AuthorMisty
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/authormistycarlisle/

Sunday Sit-Down: Renee Grace Thompson

Author of all things romance, Renee Grace Thompson, um… graced me with her presence!

MG: Let’s start with an easy one! How do you relax?
RGT: Haha! Well, I suppose it’s obvious that I would read a book. That’s probably true for any writer. And I like to soak in a bubble bath in the dark with nothing but candle light. Other than that, I love hanging out and goofing off with my kids. They always make me happy.

MG: Where is your favorite place to write?
RGT: It probably sounds silly, but I like to sit on my bed and write. It’s the only place I can shut myself off from the rest of the world, and my family. I can close the door and feel comfy and cozy in my room. I have two big windows on adjoining walls that I can stare out into the woods when I’m struggling to find just the right word. I can’t really explain it, but my bedroom is my haven. It’s where I’m the most comfortable and the most creative.

MG: Have you ever written works in collaboration with other writers, and if so, why did you decide to collaborate and did it affect your sales?
RGT:

MG: Do you think that giving books away free works and why?
RGT: 
Sure. The reader would have nothing to lose, so they’d be more enticed to try it. If they don’t like it, they can always toss it aside. At least that’s how I feel about it. And then the reader who likes that writer’s style will be apt to seek out more work from that writer. To me, it’s a great tactic.

MG: What do your fans mean to you?
RGT: 
Having readers follow you because they enjoy your work is an incredible feeling. To me, that’s more exciting than any paycheck from the work. It means you’ve touched someone and made them laugh or cry, or maybe both. You’ve made a connection with them. And that’s pretty awesome.

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Renee lives in the Midwest with her husband and four kids. She worked as a Nuclear Medicine Technologist for many years, but now manages her family-owned business. Her spare time is spent hovering over her laptop, trying to transcribe the romance novels playing out in her head. There are several going on at once though, so keeping up with them is hard. She hopes to have her first novel published sometime this winter.

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Renee can be found:

On her Website
Twitter
And Facebook!

Tuesday Tease: Voyeur in the Mist

This week’s teaser is from Sherry Terry’s Voyeur in the Mist, an erotic short story.

510y3LBHQJLSusan isn’t a woman who dreams of flowers and romance. She dreams of being watched through her bedroom window. Spending most of her life hiding her fantasy becomes normal until a chance encounter with and exciting man named Justin. He might make her dreams come true, if only she can get him to agree. Will they risk everything for an exciting sex life or play it safe?

She edged up his thigh, brushing her finger over his bulge. He gasped, and gripped her wrist, growing hard under her hand. The instant reaction made her heart race, and she rubbed a thumb over the tip of his erection.

He squirmed and glanced around. “Here?”

Lust washed into the pit of her stomach, pooling between her legs. Many times while at the aquarium in the past she’d thought about having sex in the tube. This might be her only chance, and doing it with Justin would be fun. She answered his question by going to her knees in front of him.

Looking up at his shocked face, she raised an eyebrow. “Sure. I happen to know that we are out of sight of any security cameras. It’s exciting, and taboo.”

“And how do you know that? You’ve done this here with other guys?”

The look of hurt in his eyes made her fall in love with him. “No! I’ve never done anything like this with anyone. A friend works in the IT department here, I’ve had lunch with her several times and she showed me around.”

He relaxed. “So. I’m your first. Good to know.”

Looking up at him, she smiled, flirting with her eyes. “You’re my first at everything we’ve done so far. I’ve waited a long time for someone like you.”

His strong hand cupped the side of her face, the warmth of his fingers spreading through her. “You’re so beautiful, and wild.”

She struggled a moment with his zipper before getting the fly undone. He fished his erection out of the opening, his flushed face and hungry, dilated eyes spurring her on. She wrapped her hand around him.

He groaned and adjusted on the bench.

***

Sherry Terry lives on Red Bull and sarcasm in a small town in Texas with her hermaphroditic cat named, Hermy. As a single mother, she put herself through college and worked as a Radiologic Technologist for almost twenty years before she gave it all up to be a bum. In her Champagne wishes and caviar dreams, she spends all of her time writing the next greatest romance novel to hit the market. Her blog is dedicated to helping aspiring writers with how-to articles and awesome research links.

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Blog: https://verysherryterry.wordpress.com/category/blog/blog-blog/
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