Enough about me. My CP, up and coming erotica author, Eden Bradley, has a new release coming out tomorrow. Check it out!
Click here for the cover art: http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2786/1631/1600/IsleofDesire-tiny.jpg
Isle of Desireby Eden Bradley
Is it really possible to fulfill the fantasy of a promise made in the passion of youth? On a beach on the small Venezuelan island of Isla de Margarita, Isabel Asher meets once more the love of her life, Rafael Cruz, the man she left behind twelve years earlier. Desire ignites, but can the sultry tropical nights spent in his bed lead them back to love? She’s about to find out, and maybe to have her heart broken in the process. Available September 29th from http://www.cobblestone-press.com/
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
Buns of Steel
Today I'm talking about Super Heroes over at Star Crossed Romance, but I wanted to post a quick excerpt from my upcoming release from Amber Quill. Trace Edward Zaber did a magnificent job on my cover!
“I get tired of them throwing their panties at me.” Brad Compton’s confession drew a trio of shocked stares from the other men in the locker room.
Will Bennet, aka The Reaper, paused with one foot halfway into his tall, black boot. “You’re puttin’ me on, man.”
“No, really.” Brad folded the bright orange spandex suit he wore while on duty as Molten Man and stashed his own matching boots in his locker. “I’ve rescued seven women this week and I don’t think any one of them really needed saving. Well, except the one who drove her car off the Jefferson Avenue Bridge, but I think she did it deliberately. The Super Groupies are really getting out of hand.”
Will exchanged a glance with Retro Boy, aka Bernard Maltese, who looked up from polishing his quiver of silver tipped arrows long enough to snicker. “It’s part of the job, Brad. Enjoy it while you can.”
“Yeah, someday we’ll all be too old to glow or melt or stir up a stiff breeze and the ladies will drop us like hot lead. You’ve got to have fun while your butt still looks good in tights,” Bennet added.
“Did you get any phone numbers?” asked DemiGog as he removed his gargoyle mask to reveal Earnest Wright’s rather nondescript features.
Brad pulled on his favorite pair of worn denims and a white muscle T-shirt before answering his colleague. “One.” He hated to admit it. As one of the Daring Dozen—Dedicated to Fighting Crime in the Northern Hemisphere—finding female companionship had never been a problem for Molten Man. Brad, however, was batting zero. After a six-month dry spell he’d begun to consider a meaningless fling with a panty-throwing groupie even though that wasn’t his usual style. He wanted to go out with a woman who didn’t expect him to wear his mask and boots to bed or try to wrangle him into a threesome with Speed Demon and Invisa-Man.
“One out of seven.” Will tsked while shrugging into his black leather vest and chains. “You’re losing your mojo, Big M.”
“And what happened?” Earnest asked, closing his own locker on the frightening visage of DemiGog.
“She ditched me when I refused to melt her ex-boyfriend’s Porsche.”
The other men shook their heads in sympathy. Finding a woman who wanted to date a landscape architect instead of a famous crime fighter was harder than battling four-armed aliens from another dimension.
Brad donned his denim jacket and closed his locker. “I’ll see you guys next shift. Signal me if anything exciting happens.”
The others said good-bye and Brad left the locker room. He headed out of the hidden exit of the Daring Dozen’s headquarters and emerged in the flower shop that served as a cover for the clandestine arrivals and departures of the world’s most famous band of super heroes.
Tonight he bypassed the subway, opting instead for a long walk to his apartment. The fresh autumn air would do him good, clear his head, and help him figure out just how he’d gone so wrong in the serious relationship department.
Stay tuned for some more sizzling excerpts from Molten Man coming up...
The Adventures of Molten Man, No. 1
“I get tired of them throwing their panties at me.” Brad Compton’s confession drew a trio of shocked stares from the other men in the locker room.
Will Bennet, aka The Reaper, paused with one foot halfway into his tall, black boot. “You’re puttin’ me on, man.”
“No, really.” Brad folded the bright orange spandex suit he wore while on duty as Molten Man and stashed his own matching boots in his locker. “I’ve rescued seven women this week and I don’t think any one of them really needed saving. Well, except the one who drove her car off the Jefferson Avenue Bridge, but I think she did it deliberately. The Super Groupies are really getting out of hand.”
Will exchanged a glance with Retro Boy, aka Bernard Maltese, who looked up from polishing his quiver of silver tipped arrows long enough to snicker. “It’s part of the job, Brad. Enjoy it while you can.”
“Yeah, someday we’ll all be too old to glow or melt or stir up a stiff breeze and the ladies will drop us like hot lead. You’ve got to have fun while your butt still looks good in tights,” Bennet added.
“Did you get any phone numbers?” asked DemiGog as he removed his gargoyle mask to reveal Earnest Wright’s rather nondescript features.
Brad pulled on his favorite pair of worn denims and a white muscle T-shirt before answering his colleague. “One.” He hated to admit it. As one of the Daring Dozen—Dedicated to Fighting Crime in the Northern Hemisphere—finding female companionship had never been a problem for Molten Man. Brad, however, was batting zero. After a six-month dry spell he’d begun to consider a meaningless fling with a panty-throwing groupie even though that wasn’t his usual style. He wanted to go out with a woman who didn’t expect him to wear his mask and boots to bed or try to wrangle him into a threesome with Speed Demon and Invisa-Man.
“One out of seven.” Will tsked while shrugging into his black leather vest and chains. “You’re losing your mojo, Big M.”
“And what happened?” Earnest asked, closing his own locker on the frightening visage of DemiGog.
“She ditched me when I refused to melt her ex-boyfriend’s Porsche.”
The other men shook their heads in sympathy. Finding a woman who wanted to date a landscape architect instead of a famous crime fighter was harder than battling four-armed aliens from another dimension.
Brad donned his denim jacket and closed his locker. “I’ll see you guys next shift. Signal me if anything exciting happens.”
The others said good-bye and Brad left the locker room. He headed out of the hidden exit of the Daring Dozen’s headquarters and emerged in the flower shop that served as a cover for the clandestine arrivals and departures of the world’s most famous band of super heroes.
Tonight he bypassed the subway, opting instead for a long walk to his apartment. The fresh autumn air would do him good, clear his head, and help him figure out just how he’d gone so wrong in the serious relationship department.
Stay tuned for some more sizzling excerpts from Molten Man coming up...
Saturday, September 23, 2006
E-mail Down
My e-mail server is experiencing some huge problems and I've barely been able to get e-mail for two days. DH is on it - since he's not getting e-mail either, but customer service has been woefully inadequate so far.
Needless to say I'm paranoid about missing an important e-mail. Such is life. Everything has to be a struggle of some sort.
It's probably time to find a new e-mail client/server - whatever the term is. In the mean time, if perchance anyone has tried to contact me via e-mail and gotten bounced or gotten no response, please either leave a message on my blog, or keep trying to reach me.
In the mean time, I'm going to post my yahoo address in case anyone needs to get in touch with me:
jcolgan3000@yahoo.com
Needless to say I'm paranoid about missing an important e-mail. Such is life. Everything has to be a struggle of some sort.
It's probably time to find a new e-mail client/server - whatever the term is. In the mean time, if perchance anyone has tried to contact me via e-mail and gotten bounced or gotten no response, please either leave a message on my blog, or keep trying to reach me.
In the mean time, I'm going to post my yahoo address in case anyone needs to get in touch with me:
jcolgan3000@yahoo.com
Friday, September 22, 2006
My First Review
I've gotten my first review for The Soul Jar!Four Half Moons at Rites of Romance Reviews!
Here's a quote:
Jennifer Colgan has written a fast-paced, long novella that starts with a bang and just keeps going...a delightful read. – Michelle Puffer, Rites of Romance Reviews
I was honestly beginning to think no one would read this book. I know for some reason it missed the usual round of review sites and I've had to send it out to places myself. A huge thank you to the gang at Rites of Romance!
Thursday, September 21, 2006
I finally finished my tattoo story! It wasn't easy - the last few pages of any story are usually so hard to write.
The worst part is coming up with that final line that gives the sotry closure and doesn't sounds like I dropped off in the middle of a thought.
Now to let it cool for a bit and then do a final edit, work on a pitch and see what my CPs think.
Tomorrow, I'll begin work on my Beastmaster story.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Pax Cover Art
This story is dedicated to The Green Diamond whose tireless efforts keep Paragon City safe for democracy.
Here's the blanket cover for the Lusty League Amber Pax coming in October from Amber Quill.
Lusty League includes my first [published] super hero story, The Aventures of Molten Man, No. 1. I gave it the No. 1 not because I plan to make a Molten Man series, though it might be funny to try, but because I wanted it to have that comic book feel to it. The Adventures of Molten Man, No. 1 is a tongue-in-cheek [and in other places!] type of story. It's meant to be funny, irreverant and sexy - a nod to all the super hero fans I know and love. Just to prove it, I dedicated the story to DH's first City of Heroes character.
For anyone who doesn't know what City of Heroes is - you have my undying envy. Here's a link to the playground of the super heroes.
Star tuned for an excerpt from The Adventures of Molten Man, No. 1 later this week.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Avast ye'Scurvy Dogs!
Well, I totally missed National Talk Like a Pirate Day. I suppose it's all right because DH celebrates enough for both of us.
Check out Xandra Gregory's article over at Star Crossed Romance, or I'll make ye'walk the plank, I will! Arrgh!
Check out Xandra Gregory's article over at Star Crossed Romance, or I'll make ye'walk the plank, I will! Arrgh!
Saturday, September 16, 2006
The Art of Writing
Today’s post at Romancing the Blog got me thinking about stereotypes, cliché’s and the ability of some writers to get away with things that others just can’t.
The consensus seems to be that it’s all in the execution. One person can write about a green-eyed red head virgin widow with a fiery temper in love with the tough but tender local sheriff – and it will be a bestseller. Someone else can do the same thing and be laughed out of the editor’s office.
Why? It’s in the execution. It’s just like other art forms, like painting, for instance. I tend to go for more traditional talent in painting – the old masters who captured a landscape or a face in striking detail. Someone who can paint every detail of a lace collar on a Victorian lady’s dress has talent. But there are plenty of artists who seem to literally throw paint at a canvas and are making money selling spatters and swirls that look like something a four-year-old could do in preschool. [No offense to modern artists of course. Some of those spatters and swirls are remarkably nice to look at and they evoke images and emotions just as well as the old masters can.]
Along the same lines, I’ve seen sculptures so lifelike you’d think the could come alive and I’ve seen formless blobs on display in museums and galleries as well. What makes the difference? Why can one person jam a rusty pipe in a lump of clay and call it art, and someone else must spend a decade chiseling away at a ton of marble to produce a masterpiece?
It’s the same with writing. It comes easy to some. They can throw words on a page, draw characters from a vast repository of those that have gone before them and somehow manage to make them new and interesting and infinitely entertaining, and others will get knocked off the horse for having their heroine be a blue-eyed blond. It’s all in the execution.
How does one become one of those people who can spatter paint on a canvas so to speak and create a novel that sells? How do you become the ‘executioner?’ Is it an innate talent that some people will just never have? Does it come with time and lots of practice? Is it trial and error?
Anyone want to share their artistic secrets?
The consensus seems to be that it’s all in the execution. One person can write about a green-eyed red head virgin widow with a fiery temper in love with the tough but tender local sheriff – and it will be a bestseller. Someone else can do the same thing and be laughed out of the editor’s office.
Why? It’s in the execution. It’s just like other art forms, like painting, for instance. I tend to go for more traditional talent in painting – the old masters who captured a landscape or a face in striking detail. Someone who can paint every detail of a lace collar on a Victorian lady’s dress has talent. But there are plenty of artists who seem to literally throw paint at a canvas and are making money selling spatters and swirls that look like something a four-year-old could do in preschool. [No offense to modern artists of course. Some of those spatters and swirls are remarkably nice to look at and they evoke images and emotions just as well as the old masters can.]
Along the same lines, I’ve seen sculptures so lifelike you’d think the could come alive and I’ve seen formless blobs on display in museums and galleries as well. What makes the difference? Why can one person jam a rusty pipe in a lump of clay and call it art, and someone else must spend a decade chiseling away at a ton of marble to produce a masterpiece?
It’s the same with writing. It comes easy to some. They can throw words on a page, draw characters from a vast repository of those that have gone before them and somehow manage to make them new and interesting and infinitely entertaining, and others will get knocked off the horse for having their heroine be a blue-eyed blond. It’s all in the execution.
How does one become one of those people who can spatter paint on a canvas so to speak and create a novel that sells? How do you become the ‘executioner?’ Is it an innate talent that some people will just never have? Does it come with time and lots of practice? Is it trial and error?
Anyone want to share their artistic secrets?
Friday, September 15, 2006
From Zero to Sixty in Twenty-Four Hours
September went into full swing this week – with the kids going back to school and me taking on an extra two days of office work in Edgewater.
We went from the lazy, hazy days of summer where I was technically bored out of my mind, to full speed ahead. We roll out of bed before 7:00, make lunches, get everyone dressed, I’ve been out the door by 8:30 and sitting in traffic like the rest of the Metropolitan area, working all day and roll in after 4:00 to handle school forms, book covers, running to Walgreens to pick up extra school supplies, make dinner and get some editing in before I collapse.
What was I thinking?
In a way, it’s nice to rev up the old motor and to see exactly how much I can get done in a day when I have to. After a month of both kids home and a totally free schedule during which I got very little accomplished, I feel more focused and much more productive.
Maybe that’s the trick to jump starting my desire to write – when I’m denied the time to write for a few days I really how important it is and how much I miss it. I’ve realized that after the two days I committed to work next week, I won’t be going back to Edgewater. I just can’t expend that much time doing something that isn’t fulfilling. Sure, I like to help where I can, and the work is challenging. My brain has been in office mode, which is actually good sometimes, because writer mode tends to get eccentric and little crazy after a while, but I’ve already had enough. I need to work on my novella and get started on the Beast Master Pax. I need to reclaim the house, and settle into a serious work routine as a writer/editor, not as a part-time transcriptionist/secretary.
From sixty miles an hour, I don’t want to go back to the summer quagmire, but I think I’ll settle for a leisurely and productive 35mph, with pit stops when necessary.
We went from the lazy, hazy days of summer where I was technically bored out of my mind, to full speed ahead. We roll out of bed before 7:00, make lunches, get everyone dressed, I’ve been out the door by 8:30 and sitting in traffic like the rest of the Metropolitan area, working all day and roll in after 4:00 to handle school forms, book covers, running to Walgreens to pick up extra school supplies, make dinner and get some editing in before I collapse.
What was I thinking?
In a way, it’s nice to rev up the old motor and to see exactly how much I can get done in a day when I have to. After a month of both kids home and a totally free schedule during which I got very little accomplished, I feel more focused and much more productive.
Maybe that’s the trick to jump starting my desire to write – when I’m denied the time to write for a few days I really how important it is and how much I miss it. I’ve realized that after the two days I committed to work next week, I won’t be going back to Edgewater. I just can’t expend that much time doing something that isn’t fulfilling. Sure, I like to help where I can, and the work is challenging. My brain has been in office mode, which is actually good sometimes, because writer mode tends to get eccentric and little crazy after a while, but I’ve already had enough. I need to work on my novella and get started on the Beast Master Pax. I need to reclaim the house, and settle into a serious work routine as a writer/editor, not as a part-time transcriptionist/secretary.
From sixty miles an hour, I don’t want to go back to the summer quagmire, but I think I’ll settle for a leisurely and productive 35mph, with pit stops when necessary.
Monday, September 11, 2006
Updates, Updates
I'm gearing up for the new season and getting ready for a busy week. Today I'm taking DD for a hair trim [don't say CUT, please], dropping off the dual signed copy of Immortal Lovers at the PO [sending this to Annalee Blysse so she can forward it to the winner of our Vampire Theme Day contest].
Tomorrow is the first day of school! I never thought I'd get through this extra long summer. It's been a challenge, but we finally made it. The back packs are packed, the pencils are sharpened, the first-day of school outfits are all picked out. [Mostly. I think. Gotta double check that.]
I'm editing a full length novel for Siren Publishing, and I'm working in Edgewater and Saddle Brook this week, so I'll be busy. I just made an agent appointment for NJRW - yay! And I have permission to pitch both a novel and a novella [Matchmakers and Temporary Tattoos] Gotta work on both of the pitches a little bit. Nervewracking stuff.
I got a release date for The Rebound Guy with Samhain - January 2007! It'll be nice to start the year off with a new release and any day now Ravenstar's Bride should be coming out in print.
Looks like I'll be putting off 'Fall Cleaning' for a while. Oh well. It's not like the dirt goes anywhere. It'll all still be here when I'm ready for it.
Tomorrow is the first day of school! I never thought I'd get through this extra long summer. It's been a challenge, but we finally made it. The back packs are packed, the pencils are sharpened, the first-day of school outfits are all picked out. [Mostly. I think. Gotta double check that.]
I'm editing a full length novel for Siren Publishing, and I'm working in Edgewater and Saddle Brook this week, so I'll be busy. I just made an agent appointment for NJRW - yay! And I have permission to pitch both a novel and a novella [Matchmakers and Temporary Tattoos] Gotta work on both of the pitches a little bit. Nervewracking stuff.
I got a release date for The Rebound Guy with Samhain - January 2007! It'll be nice to start the year off with a new release and any day now Ravenstar's Bride should be coming out in print.
Looks like I'll be putting off 'Fall Cleaning' for a while. Oh well. It's not like the dirt goes anywhere. It'll all still be here when I'm ready for it.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Vampire Theme Day
I'll be co-hosting the NCP Vampire Theme Day at the New Concepts Readers Group September 9-10th. There will be quizzes, prizes, vampire discussions and sizzling excerpts!
Drop by for a bite.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
La Nora does it again!
I just finished Angels Fall by Nora Roberts and of course I have to say she’s done it again. Her plot is engaging and compelling, her characters are warm and real, and her love scenes are sweet and juicy without being over the top explicit [and this opinion from an erotic romance author besides!]
What I especially liked about Angels Fall was the mystery element and the fact that Ms. Roberts led me to believe one thing, and made me hope it wasn’t true because even though all evidence pointed one way, that would have been the trite and expected conclusion. Of course, she pulled another answer out of her bag of tricks at the last moment and made me go, “Ah! I should have been paying attention over there, but I was too busy thinking I knew all the answers.”
That’s something I want to learn how to do.
The only thing I didn’t like about Angels Fall was that it’s hard to really like a heroine who is too skinny and is told by several people she needs to gain weight. Sure, I know, Reece Gilmore has been through a lot, but as a real-sized American woman, I have a hard time drumming up sympathy for a chef who needs to be reminded to eat and who considers it a victory to have gained four pounds. Yes, there are people who are underweight [like...um...99.9% of Hollywood for instance], but still, I’d have liked Reece a little better if she hadn’t had a ‘weight’ problem.
In other news...
I have yet another job. Today I agreed to do some work preparing meeting minutes for the Borough of Edgewater. It's a bit of a ride, but the pay is nice and it's only a temporary position to fill in for someone on sick leave. It's not like I don't have enough to do, but I've got to supplement my income between royalty payments, you know? LOL. Someday, hopefully, that won't be necessary. But on the up side, I polished up my resume and know that it still works if I need it, so living in my writing bubble for a year hasn't dulled my employability. That's good to know.
In related news...
Now that September is finaly here, I feel different. Better. More centered and proactive. I really suppose I have reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder. The summer makes me depressed, unsure of myself, tired, easily bored and unambitious while the thought of fall has me working on new projects, vaccuming the pool, and applying for new jobs in far off towns. I wish I could understand it, but I just can't. Ah well, at least things are looking up a bit. Hopefully this part-time temp job works out, puts a little $$ in my pocket and doesn't cost me too much in gas money.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
What Makes A Good Villain Tick?
It's Villains Week over at Star-Crossed and it's my day to opine on what makes a great villain. Check it out!
Monday, September 04, 2006
Only the Good Die Young
Steve Irwin “The Crocodile Hunter” died in Australia today. He was 44.
It may sound sappy and sentimental, but Earth has lost one of its greatest protectors and staunchest defenders. He may have been flamboyant, but he did something that most of us would do well to learn – he looked at our planet with awe.
At a time when there are so many people out there complaining about the state of our world, predicting gloom and doom, hoping and wishing for the end of the world [or trying to cause it in the name of God], ranting and raving about what a mess everything is, Steve Irwin walked out into the world and saw it as it was meant to be seen, as it was created, as a place of wonder. He gave that wonder to his children and he tried to impart it to the world.
My heart goes out to his family.
It may sound sappy and sentimental, but Earth has lost one of its greatest protectors and staunchest defenders. He may have been flamboyant, but he did something that most of us would do well to learn – he looked at our planet with awe.
At a time when there are so many people out there complaining about the state of our world, predicting gloom and doom, hoping and wishing for the end of the world [or trying to cause it in the name of God], ranting and raving about what a mess everything is, Steve Irwin walked out into the world and saw it as it was meant to be seen, as it was created, as a place of wonder. He gave that wonder to his children and he tried to impart it to the world.
My heart goes out to his family.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Happy September!
Ravenstar’s Bride is available in e-book format today at Amber Quill Press!
The paperback edition should be coming out around September 15th! I can’t wait to have another print book to add to my shelf.
Since it is Friday, here’s an excerpt from RB that you won’t find at the buy link page. In this scene, my heroine meets the man who will shape her destiny. She’s masquerading as a common dock runner [read: prostitute] but he seems something more in her. By the end of their conversation, Ravenstar Bren is determined to uncover the stowaway’s secrets. All of them.
Ra'Nara stifled a gasp when the captain of the merchant ship leveled his stormy gaze at her. She felt as though her carefully crafted disguise had been ripped away, leaving her terribly exposed. It seemed as if he could see through her battered body and into the depths of her soul.
While the commander had been formidable, and handsome with his light hair and dark eyes, the captain was an even more breathtaking example of fortunate genetics.
Even drawn to her full height, which was slightly above average for a Cadeian female, he towered over her. She found that she had to look up at him. And he looked down on her, his dark brows knit together over those lustrous eyes.
His face was angular and long, with high cheekbones that were accentuated by a shadow of growth on his cheeks and chin. His lips were compressed into a thin line at the moment, but showed hints of sensual fullness. Wavy midnight black hair reached down to his brow.
Like the commander's, his uniform was a rich shade of blue that contrasted with the burnished bronze of his skin. His eyes picked up the deep hue and seemed to darken as he appraised her.
Ra'Nara's gaze was drawn to his bare arms, where his own tattoo stretched over corded muscle. Though she could not read the fine Istrian script, she was certain the embellishments to the design proclaimed him a ruler of men. He certainly looked the part.
She'd spent her life among royalty and had never met a man, including her own father, with such a commanding presence. For a moment, she fought the urge to bow to him, as she might have a prince of Cadeia. In that same instant she forgot who she was, or rather what she had become, and despite her trembling, drew herself up in front of him and embarrassed herself with a clumsy attempt at seduction. By the look in his eyes, it was obvious he found her offer distasteful. Such a man as this would have no interest in a common doxie.
She couldn't take it back though, and the shift in his expression from benign but authoritative curiosity to annoyance, told her she probably shouldn't waste breath on an apology.
She moved back involuntarily as one of his hands shot out and grasped the shoulder of her cloak. With a lightning fast movement he tore it from her body, exposing not only the pitiful dress beneath, but the purple bruises that marred the delicate skin of her upper arms.
"I suspect this foul garment is to blame for the unfortunate odor in here, feha," he said as he cast the fabric to the floor. The term of endearment he'd tacked onto his statement gave her pause. There were many things he could have called her, but "precious jewel" was not one she would have expected.
Ra'Nara made no answer at first, though her mind worked furiously. Should she beg his forgiveness for her insolence? Or merely resign herself to the fact that she had most likely garnered herself nothing more than an expedited trip to a Cadeian prison?
"Do you have a name? Or shall I continue to call you feha?" he prompted.
"I..." Ra'Nara paused to swallow some of her ire. She realized she would have to come up with something. "Nara," she said finally and hoped he would not press for anything more specific.
"Nara..." he said, rolling the name on his tongue. "If I recall, it means 'gift,' doesn't it?"
She nodded.
"I'm told you were interrogated by Commander Kree, my first officer, and you told him nothing of interest."
"I told him what was pertinent. He threatened to send me to jail."
The captain leaned back, crossed his arms over his broad chest and grinned at her. "That was no threat."
"Captain Ravenstar..." Nara said in her best diplomatic voice. "I...apologize, for stowing away on your shuttle. I was desperate. I don't ask for special treatment, only passage to your next port of call. I will work for my keep...I'll do...anything." This time she was careful to keep her request devoid of any innuendo. Offering her body to this man was degrading enough. Having him reject her twice would be unbearable.
In response, his eyes swept over her and again she felt stripped of her defenses. The paper-thin tunic, soiled from hiding in the livestock stalls at the bazaar, might as well have been nonexistent.
"You'd best be careful when making such a statement, feha. A promise like that to the wrong person could land you in hell."
"I've been there, Captain," she responded soberly, all trace of regal arrogance gone from her expression. "Believe me when I say I'm willing to do anything to escape it."
To find out more about Ravenstar’s Bride, go to: http://www.amberquill.com/RavenstarsBride.html
The paperback edition should be coming out around September 15th! I can’t wait to have another print book to add to my shelf.
Since it is Friday, here’s an excerpt from RB that you won’t find at the buy link page. In this scene, my heroine meets the man who will shape her destiny. She’s masquerading as a common dock runner [read: prostitute] but he seems something more in her. By the end of their conversation, Ravenstar Bren is determined to uncover the stowaway’s secrets. All of them.
Ra'Nara stifled a gasp when the captain of the merchant ship leveled his stormy gaze at her. She felt as though her carefully crafted disguise had been ripped away, leaving her terribly exposed. It seemed as if he could see through her battered body and into the depths of her soul.
While the commander had been formidable, and handsome with his light hair and dark eyes, the captain was an even more breathtaking example of fortunate genetics.
Even drawn to her full height, which was slightly above average for a Cadeian female, he towered over her. She found that she had to look up at him. And he looked down on her, his dark brows knit together over those lustrous eyes.
His face was angular and long, with high cheekbones that were accentuated by a shadow of growth on his cheeks and chin. His lips were compressed into a thin line at the moment, but showed hints of sensual fullness. Wavy midnight black hair reached down to his brow.
Like the commander's, his uniform was a rich shade of blue that contrasted with the burnished bronze of his skin. His eyes picked up the deep hue and seemed to darken as he appraised her.
Ra'Nara's gaze was drawn to his bare arms, where his own tattoo stretched over corded muscle. Though she could not read the fine Istrian script, she was certain the embellishments to the design proclaimed him a ruler of men. He certainly looked the part.
She'd spent her life among royalty and had never met a man, including her own father, with such a commanding presence. For a moment, she fought the urge to bow to him, as she might have a prince of Cadeia. In that same instant she forgot who she was, or rather what she had become, and despite her trembling, drew herself up in front of him and embarrassed herself with a clumsy attempt at seduction. By the look in his eyes, it was obvious he found her offer distasteful. Such a man as this would have no interest in a common doxie.
She couldn't take it back though, and the shift in his expression from benign but authoritative curiosity to annoyance, told her she probably shouldn't waste breath on an apology.
She moved back involuntarily as one of his hands shot out and grasped the shoulder of her cloak. With a lightning fast movement he tore it from her body, exposing not only the pitiful dress beneath, but the purple bruises that marred the delicate skin of her upper arms.
"I suspect this foul garment is to blame for the unfortunate odor in here, feha," he said as he cast the fabric to the floor. The term of endearment he'd tacked onto his statement gave her pause. There were many things he could have called her, but "precious jewel" was not one she would have expected.
Ra'Nara made no answer at first, though her mind worked furiously. Should she beg his forgiveness for her insolence? Or merely resign herself to the fact that she had most likely garnered herself nothing more than an expedited trip to a Cadeian prison?
"Do you have a name? Or shall I continue to call you feha?" he prompted.
"I..." Ra'Nara paused to swallow some of her ire. She realized she would have to come up with something. "Nara," she said finally and hoped he would not press for anything more specific.
"Nara..." he said, rolling the name on his tongue. "If I recall, it means 'gift,' doesn't it?"
She nodded.
"I'm told you were interrogated by Commander Kree, my first officer, and you told him nothing of interest."
"I told him what was pertinent. He threatened to send me to jail."
The captain leaned back, crossed his arms over his broad chest and grinned at her. "That was no threat."
"Captain Ravenstar..." Nara said in her best diplomatic voice. "I...apologize, for stowing away on your shuttle. I was desperate. I don't ask for special treatment, only passage to your next port of call. I will work for my keep...I'll do...anything." This time she was careful to keep her request devoid of any innuendo. Offering her body to this man was degrading enough. Having him reject her twice would be unbearable.
In response, his eyes swept over her and again she felt stripped of her defenses. The paper-thin tunic, soiled from hiding in the livestock stalls at the bazaar, might as well have been nonexistent.
"You'd best be careful when making such a statement, feha. A promise like that to the wrong person could land you in hell."
"I've been there, Captain," she responded soberly, all trace of regal arrogance gone from her expression. "Believe me when I say I'm willing to do anything to escape it."
To find out more about Ravenstar’s Bride, go to: http://www.amberquill.com/RavenstarsBride.html
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