The Fallen Fae
by Connie Wood
sensual paranormal romance
Shae is a fallen angel seeking salvation through a woman promised to him in return for services rendered long ago. Aleta is unaware she is the payment of a deal made between her grandfather and the Fae. With her grandfather gone she discovers a faerie stone allowing Shae to come to her and set their destiny in motion.

Will she be his salvation, or will their love hold them both in eternal damnation?

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Excerpt:

She slid her head down the cool base of the bath then under the water. She realised then that the water cascaded over the curved side of the claw-footed bath and splashed onto the wooden planked floor. Her face broke the surface of the water, and she knew in an instant she was no longer alone in the room. She grew achingly aware of the change in the atmosphere.

The lantern flared bright before it extinguished, plunging the bathroom into darkness. Only a sliver of the moon’s silver light sliced through the high small window, opposite the bath. Something more than heat permeated the room. The air became thick and hot, almost malignant. But there was something else…a latent sensuality so raw and powerful it beat directly into her womb.

Afraid to turn around, almost afraid to breathe, she sensed someone or something behind her. A large, warm hand wrapped over her shoulder. Her scream of terror froze silently in her throat. Another hand gripped her other shoulder, and they both kneaded the tense muscles between her shoulder blades. After the initial shock, it felt so nice, so relaxing. Guiltily, she squirmed, sending another torrent of water crashing to the floor.

A deep laugh reverberated through her very soul—no mirth in it, only dark evil. A small voice at the back of her brain screamed for attention. Run. Leave. Danger. And yet, in a trance, she sat and allowed the heat of the hands to fuel her desires.

The hands stilled and without missing a beat snaked around to cradle her breasts. She struggled for breath, automatically arching up to the presence. Expert thumbs ran across her nipples, making them harden in an instant. A jolt of desire ran straight from her breasts to pool low in her belly. The laugh sounded again, and that voice inside her mind screamed louder. Aleta pushed it back as heat tore through her veins.

Hard lips found the back of her neck. A wet, hot tongue laved behind her ear, and she turned her shoulder closer into him. His hand lowered and dipped below the surface, finding her own wetness mingling with the water. She let out a feral groan and pressed into him, desperately seeking a release from this pent up energy. She moved with him, arching and now panting for breath. Aleta tilted her face into his where he still sent her shots of desire with his tongue at her neck.

She stiffened, and something primeval stopped her from moving.

“Turn around, child.”

She turned on command and stepped out of the bath, unable to disobey this voice that spoke to her very soul and bypassed her brain. She squinted, allowing her eyes to adjust. He stood in absolute blinding beauty. Surely the most beautiful being created. And suddenly she understood why people said the Devil had a beautiful face. It was angelic. Pale ivory eyes stared at her. Like looking at a glass reflection, nothing shone in those eyes, empty and blank of all emotion. The hard, cruel line of his lips spoiled his perfect mouth. The harsh planes of his face were the only way to distinguish him physically from being supreme perfection.

He stood at the end of the bath, at least six foot eight of towering, absolute rigid muscle. Like Shae, he too wore only a loin cloth. But unlike Shae, he showed no modesty at his more than obvious arousal.

Unmoving, he raked her with a cold stare. The menace emanating from him threatened to devour her. She couldn’t believe that she had just let him touch her. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Still, she couldn’t even move, let alone move back from him.

“So, you are the human Shae believes to be his salvation.” He strode toward her. Blackness threatened to consume her. He reached out and touched a wet strand of her hair, and a soul-deep shiver ran through her. “Interesting. So, Human, do you always allow every stranger to touch you so intimately?” Something flashed in those lifeless eyes, and terror nearly burst her heart. “I will enjoy taking you.” He ran a finger down her body from the base of her neck to the junction of her thighs. “Pleasuring you.”

He stepped to her, rubbing his entire length against her body. He hissed softly, reached around her neck, and swiftly removed the faerie stone. It dropped with a clatter on the floor and rested against her bare feet.

Aleta clambered for control. Her entire body smoldered with desire, while her mind filled with revulsion. On an animalistic level, she knew he would fulfill her every desire, her every whim. But at what cost? She knew it would be too high a price than she was willing to pay. He knew she was struggling; she could almost feel him inside her, penetrating the edges of her mind.

He laughed again. Something snapped in her brain. She gasped hard and sucked air into her starved lungs. She struggled, but his arms effortlessly held her tight against him. Aleta turned her face from him, and that internal voice that had been bellowing to be heard finally screamed out to her.

She cried at the top of her voice. “Ar n-Athair a tha air nèamh, Gu naomhaichear d’ainm.”

He laughed and squeezed her roughly into him. “The Lord’s Prayer in the old tongue. Continue, little one, it has been a long time since I heard it recited in Gaelic.”

He seized her chin in a strong, broad hand, forcing her to face him once again. With no malicious amusement left in his face, pure hatred replaced the deadness in his eyes. “It will not help you. It holds no power over me. If I truly desired you, I would have had you before now.” He crushed his mouth against hers, ravishing her until she tasted the copper tang of blood. “Shae will be interested to know that his only hope for redemption lays with a woman who will give herself to any man she desires.”

 

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And now I have a song going around in my brain.

But that isn’t what this post is about.

The post is about physical sensations. Sometimes for me those are the hardest things to describe when I’m writing a sex scene in a romance. I know what the point of view character is thinking and feeling emotionally, but the physical sensations often elude me. I don’t only have a problem figuring out the words to describe them, though that’s definitely part of it. The issue is, I don’t know what things feel like.

I’m going to be honest here. Not TMI, but honest. I’ve been through a lot of things in my life, beginning when I was very young, and because of some of them I have very little connection between my brain and my body. All the basic physiological things, like eating, breathing, blinking, and so forth, work just fine, but don’t ask me what my body feels like at any specific time, because I have no idea. I know what pain is, and I feel it especially when I walk into things, which is frequent because I have so little body awareness that I can’t always judge where I am in relation to something else, so I think that doorway is farther away or that I have two more steps before I hit that coffee table when I really only have one.

One of the most common bits of advice I heard as a beginning erotic romance author when I asked about describing physical sensations in sex scenes was, “Think about how you feel when your partner does this to you. When you’re with your partner, think about how to describe what you’re feeling.”

That’s good advice, but I see a couple problems with it. First, in the heat of the moment with one’s partner, is one really going to stop and think, “How would I describe this if I were writing it down?” If your partner’s doing things right, you probably aren’t going to be thinking much of anything except “Hell yeah, keep doing that!”

The second problem I have is the aforementioned lack of connection between my brain and my body. I don’t know what my body feels like at those “sexytimes” because I’m not actually “in” it, if that makes sense. So even if I stopped to think about how I’d describe what I was feeling, I’d first have to figure out what I was feeling, and that just complicates it.

I’ve said in other places that I initially started writing erotic romance as a sort of therapy. A friend, when I told him about some of the things that had been done to me and how negatively I viewed sex because of them, challenged me to put my writing skills to work and writing something that showed sex “in a positive light.” It was a challenge. I nearly always take those, unless there’s risk of harm to myself or others. So I wrote an erotic scene, surprised myself by doing it pretty well, and kept going. (That scene, if anyone’s interested, is in my novel Eternal Love, which Pink Petal published in July 2010.) From writing erotic romance, I’ve learned a lot about relationships, sex, and sexuality.

Eventually, I might even learn how things feel. For me, figuring out how to describe my characters’ physical sensations is teaching me how to describe my own.

Blog by Vonna Harper

First off, if you don’t know what OR-7 is, you have my permission to leave the room. Otherwise please stick around because eventually I’ll get to the point.

To clarify, OR-7 is the name given to the young male wolf currently traveling through Oregon, Nevada, and California. He’s become a celebrity during his so far unsuccessful search for a mate. (That’s what comes from being the first wolf to enter those states in many, many years).

Even before OR-7 set paw in Oregon where I live, I was addicted to the powerful, intelligent predators. My library includes five books on the creatures, and I’ve written two articles on them for outdoor magazines. Wolves have shown up in a number of my erotic romances as well as several of my mainstream historicals about Native Americans.

My family has a forest cabin not far from Crater Lake, Oregon. (BTW, at 1,943 feet deep, Crater is the deepest lake in the United States.) For several weeks OR-7 called ‘our’ Umpqua Forest home, and yes, I indulged in fantasies about stepping outside the cabin to find OR-7 waiting for me. Just writing that gives me chills.

I wrote Wolf’s Storm before OR-7 was born. The story takes place near Union Creek which is between where I live and our cabin. I chose Union Creek because I’m in awe of the way the Rogue River careens through, over, and under lava formations in the deeply wooded area. Every time I walk along the Rogue there I expect to see wolf eyes glittering in the shadows.

What a perfect setting for a story about two loners! There’s a lot of hot, fast sex in Wolf’s Storm. After all what better thing is there to do when someone is stuck at a remote lodge with an intriguing and sexy member of the opposite sex during a fierce snowstorm? But I tried to make Wolf’s Storm more than generic erotic romance by throwing in a mystical wolf pack with a compelling message for my humans.

The cover absolutely and completely conveys the emotional hit I tried to achieve with this, my first Pink Petal story. If Wolf’s Story is half as good as the cover I’ll be a happy camper. Of course I’d love to hear what readers think. Be honest—and if you feel I’ve missed the mark, I’ll try to keep the wolves off you.

Wolf’s Storm by Vonna Harper
contemporary with paranormal elements erotic romance novella (approx 25K)
ISBN# 978-1-938257-03-2
Cover Art by Winterheart Design

Forced together by a mountain snowstorm and their smashed cars, two loners realize they have no choice but to spend the night together. As soon as the cabin door closes behind them, need takes over. They must have sex, only sex, not a relationship. But the dark wolves watching outside have their own agenda.

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Wolf’s Storm
by Vonna Harper
erotic contemporary romance w/ paranormal elements

Forced together by a mountain snowstorm and their smashed cars, two loners realize they have no choice but to spend the night together. As soon as the cabin door closes behind them, need takes over. They must have sex, only sex, not a relationship. But the dark wolves watching outside have their own agenda.

Purchase Direct From Pink Petal Books

Excerpt:

Weak light spilled out from the lamp. Otherwise, the room was in shadows. Just the same, Jake had no trouble making out Sarah’s form. His overactive imagination stripped away her bulky clothing. Under the layers awaited a slim woman with smallish breasts and hips designed to drive a man crazy. Her thighs were muscular and slightly padded. She was small waisted, her shoulders wider than he’d expected them to be, and her neck so long and narrow, he could easily cup his hands around it.

Once he captured her throat, he’d propel her backward. She’d tumble onto the bed, her arms snaking around him as she fell so that they landed together. He’d remain on top, his knee forcing her legs apart, his weight pinning her. At first, she’d be limp and waiting under him, but as his greater weight and commanding knee made their impact, she’d start struggling.

Get off me, she’d say. What kind of oaf do you think you are?

The kind who gets what he wants.

The threat/promise would make her fight even more. She’d pound her fists against his back, scratch his arms, even try to choke him. Instead of compelling him to let her go, though, her struggles would reach him in deeper places. Primal places. Releasing her throat, he’d capture her wrists and force her arms over her head. Certain she couldn’t break free, he’d pin both wrists with a single hand and start in on her clothes. A harsh yank, and he’d render the zipper on her coat useless. Another jerk, and he’d shed her sweater. Ignoring her curses, but not the wildly thrashing body under him, he’d expose her bra.

When he lowered his head and lapped at the swollen flesh above her bra, all resistance would flow out of her. Moaning like something wild, she’d stare up at him, mouth open and legs gaping.

He had her. She was his to mount.

“Jake?”

Rocked by the quiet word, he shook his head. Bit by bit, the disturbing image he’d created seeped away to be replaced by the reality of the woman who’d rendered his rig inoperable. The last time someone had stared at him that intently, it had been his brother, his leg anchored under the tree that had twisted unexpectedly as it fell, leaving Brett trapped beneath, in shock and incomprehensible.

Damn it, the last thing he needed right now was a reminder of that horrendous time.

“I’m sorry,” he managed. “Long day. I keep forgetting what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“I didn’t—do you think you’ve suffered a concussion?”

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the crash. “Hardly. There wasn’t enough force. Like I said, it’s been a long day.”

“Me too. I’m feeling a little, I don’t know, punchy.”

Punchy was as good a word as any. It was certainly easier to face than admitting he wanted nothing more than to fuck her. He said something he hoped sounded intelligent, about her needing to get some sleep, but as the words spilled from him, a different image entirely entered his mind.

Perhaps she’d sleep in her panties, the rest of her naked between the sheets, the limp cotton linen sliding over her ripe body. Instead of diving straight into sleep, she’d cradle her breasts and play with her nipples until they knotted. She was playing with herself because she couldn’t stop thinking about him, wanting and needing him.

Damn it, what was wrong with him?

Although maybe, just maybe, everything was right.

Purchase direct from Pink Petal Books.

We had a cold front move through her, and Vonna’s excellent new release, Wolf’s Storm, deals with a snowstorm, so I wanted to share with you my favorite cold weather food–chili.

Mary’s Crockpot Chili

(pretty healthy, I think….)

Ingredients:

2 cans of Mrs. Grimes no-salt added chili beans (or your preferred brand. Sometimes I mix it up and use tex-mex beans or spicy hot beans)
1 can of black beans, rinsed and drained
1 can of low-sodium V8 juice (sense a theme here)
1 can of fire roasted tomatoes diced with chilis, or a chili/onion/diced tomato mix
1 package of MorningStar Burger Crumbles or 1 lb of ground turkey, or ground beef, whatever I feel like that week
1/2 onion diced

Directions:

Dump all the stuff that comes in cans in your crock pot on high. Dice the onion and saute until it is translucent. Brown the burger with the onion. (If you’re using the MorningStar just dump the bag in the crock pot with your beans.) I like to liberally use grill seasoning, red pepper flakes, and other spices that I think of…

Cook on high for a couple of hours, then put the crock pot on low and let simmer until you’re ready to eat.

This is great on the weekends when I’m writing and working and my man is working on his artwork. We’ll emerge from our respective dens and eat when we’re hungry. Then, we’ll go back to work.

Enjoy!

Back in November 2011 I presented an online workshop on the . There, we discussed effective email signatures in this time of social media, high speed internet and classy cover design. The findings were that simple is still best when it comes to your signatures. Many people, myself included, have email programs which do not automatically (automagically?) download images, so your pretty cover would be lost on us anyway. Additionally, too many links get repetitive on digest emails from mailing lists. And funky fonts and colors can make your work stand out in a bad way.

So the rules which I try to adhere for signatures, text only, a handful of lines (enough to get the information across, especially if you have multiple sites/blogs, such as the Jupiter Gardens Press signature, which lists each of our imprints with links) and include social media links if you have them seemed to be the best.

Imagine my surprise when an email list sent me a “not so friendly reminder” about my personal signature, which happens to be four lines plus a row of social media buttons. Pretty innocuous really in the grand scheme of things. I use Wisestamp personally, and I didn’t add the big banner for a clean water charity or make the signature any larger than it had to be. Yet, people complained.

Now list rules are list rules, so I’m not going to quibble over it. I hadn’t realized those were the rules and no one had said anything at all, and I’ve had this signature for months. I’ll just have to remember to trim the signature when I post there in the future.

But, it did get me to rethinking email signatures. Maybe four lines is too long. And maybe it isn’t long enough. Though there are parts of the world, and even parts of the US where people are on dial-up or other bandwidth-limited internet services, most of us use at least DSL. Honestly, I have a low DSL plan and a fast cable internet modem at my house and I find very little difference in speed between the two of them, and between the website work and an online game I play, I work my internet to its limits. *g*

In the class I’d talked about a simple email signature….

Name… Your Tag Line
www.yourwebaddress.com

That works for me, and that’s what I used for a long time as an author. For me, even better, but would not be allowed on that group is

Name…your tag line….
www.yourwebaddress.com
My Newest Book is: ONE LINK

Still pretty simple. But whoops, too long according to the group, or is it? I don’t think so. Looking back over the signatures I gave a thumb’s up to in the class, many of them were four or five lines, but each one counted! We had links to the major ebook vendors, website, social media as well as a name and tagline. Now that’s a nice signature.

It’s always important to adhere to list rules. There are no exceptions, so I will have to be doubly careful if I’m posting to that loop again. But I also wanted to revisit the topic and think about signatures again, especially in light about my last post to changing things up. I think the days of hard and fast rules on such things are quickly fading away. Text, by itself, and even links, do not take up much bandwidth, provided it’s plain text and not formatted with fonts and colors. But, in the case of this particular group, I can also understand a focus on the topic and not on any individual person’s website, credentials, or what they are selling, so a more restrictive policy makes sense. It also means that I can continue to use my signature, happy that it serves its need without being too large.