All Aboard the Fail Train!

It’s been a rough November of drama llama ding dong for me. Such is life. At this point, I’ve got to come to the realization that NaNo just might not happen. In some respects, it sucks. I’ve been successful every year save my first in 2007.

What I got to deal with is this: Even though I won’t reach the magical 50k, I have expanded the story I wanted to expand into near novel size and I still have more to go on it. Thus, I have the rough draft I want. Give it a bit of spit shine and I’ll have it out the door by (hopefully) the end of December if not January.

What this means to me is getting another publication and that far outweighs winning NaNo. Sorry, hard fact of life. I supported NaNo through a donation, using monies received from royalties. I felt I should give back to an event that’s helped me achieve so much. So not getting saluted in the end doesn’t bother me. Before I might have thought of it as a failure but in the grand scheme of things, most of my publications have come outside of the mystical madness in November.

So the graphic isn’t completely right at the top as far as count goes. I did write on some of those red days but not much. However, it’s a blood red reminder of how I slipped off the goals I had for this month. I certainly didn’t worry about updating my word count either. It’s a distraction.

Keep writing and reading, my friends. In the end, the spit shine that follows after November is much more gratifying.


Release Day: The Romance Novel Book Club

This is an extremely happy day for me. The Romance Novel Book Club has been a brain child of mine for a few years. being a panster writer, I tend to bounce from one manuscript to another. Last NaNo I had planned to finish this one but alas, I was too enthralled with the novellas and shorts to make time. Again the poor story pouted in the corner.

I actually had two novels that I wanted to buck down and finish. When I saw making a short story was becoming very hard to do, I decided I had to finish this novel. It’s quirky and funny. A poke at romance novels that turns into a woman realizing there’s a real world out there.

One of the fun parts was making up the romance novel excerpts. I took some of the things that made me roll my eyes when I read straight romance. It’s the cynic in me. Still, I have to admit that I started to fall in love with the characters I created in the fake ones. It happens.

Enough of me gushing over my baby. How about I give you a little of what it’s about and teaser? Feel free to comment below!

Blurb: From the legendary times of the Victorian Age to the rugged reaches of outer space, the romance novels have done nothing to spark Patricia’s want and hope of finding that one special man to call her own. She’s knee deep into her thirties, near depression, and drowning her sorrows in pints of premium ice cream.

When she falls for a waiter named Matt in her favorite restaurant, her insecurities do their best to thwart her plans of true love. It isn’t until she picks up one last romance novel that she realizes life cannot be lived within the ink splattered pages of an author’s fantasies. She has one chance to set her life straight and snatch the one man who gets her: mind and body.

Will Patricia take it?


The Black Room was the little place Julie and I tried out after her divorce. A little kinky and a lot of fun, it catered to people preferring to remain anonymous but wanting to have an out of this world experience sexually. While I’m not the kind of girl that wanted to be tied up all the time, it had its appeal. Thus, the handcuffs in my bedroom. I hadn’t come across a man that I could trust enough to pull those bad boys out lately.

Just the type of place to get all my sexual frustrations out.

I passed through the usual check points better than I thought I would. The high class of Black Room always appealed to me. Per the code, I had chosen a satin red mask with sequined outline and draping jewel strands. The color denoted I’d go for some light bondage. I didn’t mind the occasional tied up and spanked session but the more extreme side? Not on your life.

Eyeliner coated my lids and cherry red lipstick adorned my puckered mouth. Make-up outside the club might be something I shirked with aplomb, but it was a must to gain entry. Why should I care? Tonight I would get pampered with the simple tap on the shoulder. If I didn’t get picked by a man at the end of an hour, I could choose my partner.

Within the confines of Black Room, my name was York. When I signed up, I gave the call name as a twist on my name. I thought myself clever using a candy bar as a nom de plume.

            I lounged on a Victorian chair, my fuck me pumps a nice shiny red. My black dress conformed to my curves, and I felt damn sexy.  Any inhibitions I had stayed in the car with the windows cracked until I finished my man meat shopping spree.

            Other members chatted away as my gaze swept the room. I preferred to look disinterested, like a hard mark, than exude desperation. Whether it was the truth or not didn’t mean I wanted my hungry eyes to stray onto less than savory company. Black Room was high class, but it had its fair share of drooling troglodytes.

            The room slowed to a crawl as I noticed my favorite plaything across the room. The black satin mask couldn’t hide his appearance. His mannerisms within Black Room were too familiar to me. My taut muscled specimen prowled the carpet like the carnivore I knew he could be. The apex of my thighs moistened at his presence. I remembered each wicked little escapade I had with this particular member. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he window shopped until he came across my rack. With one glance in my direction, I hooked in my bait. Already my heart slammed into my rib cage in anticipation of his electric touch.

His code name was Tall One, and he certainly fit the bill. He leaned in, and I inhaled that masculine scent uniquely his. Whatever cologne he used danced nicely with his pheromones. I was a cat in heat ready to scratch my name into his back as he rode me.

“My, York.” His words tickled my ear. “In for some adventure tonight?”

“Can you handle it?” I breathed back.

“Why don’t we find out?”

I placed my hand in his, and he led me away from the crowded room into a private one of his choosing. The lights dim, he glided me in and closed the door behind us.

Deep mahogany wood on the bedposts and luxurious red velvet hung from the peaks. A perfect centerpiece for our carnal night of pleasure. My body curled against his chest, the ache to caress his erection pulsing to my core. His fingertips glided along my shoulders. With each caress, his senses reacquainted themselves with every inch of my flesh. I groaned as his palms rubbed my nipples. They hardened instantly.

“My. Someone’s been neglecting themselves.” He tweaked my tightened areolas, and I gasped. Masturbation was second hand for me. Nothing compared to sharing a sexual experience with a partner. Especially one as interested in pleasing you as you were them. I always had that with Tall One. He’d chase all my sorrows away with one gentle stroke along my clit.

My arms reached behind to run through his hair as he lavished my breasts with attention. I ground my behind into his hardened shaft. His breathy rumble sent shivers down my spine. With one yank, he pulled the top of my dress down to expose my lacy red bra. His petting frantic, the fabric of my undergarments heightened my arousal.

“I can’t hold it, York.” His hips worked into my backside, his desire apparent in the thickened length straining against his clothing.

“I was hoping for a little play tonight.” My words were truth no matter how much my body ached to be rammed into by his cock.

“Trust me.”

The timbre in his voice echoed.


His hands grasped the bottom of my dress and yanked it up past my hips. He groaned when he realized I had gone panty-free for the evening. His palm cracked against my backside, and I yelped.

“You little tease.” Another swat landed on my bare ass. “You’re a bad girl, York.” His hand smoothed over my cheek, cooling the hotness swelling from it before he gave me another punishing whack.

“Hands on the bedpost, young lady.”

Wetness pooled down my thighs as I grasped the mahogany and velvet. The golden cord hanging down soon bound my wrists. His searing lips claimed the nape of my neck as his fingers pulled and teased my nipples. One hand ventured down to my wet core, stoking the flame already ignited. I shattered to his demanding touch.

“Come again.” His gruff voice commanded.

Mega-awesome buy links:
Evernight Publishing
All Romance ebooks

To add it to your Goodreads shelf, click here.

Short on cash and want to enter to win a free PDF copy? Enter below and please remember to leave an email address so I can contact you.

Talbot’s Ploy Reviewed and a Taste of the Prequel

Top 2 Bottom Reviews were nice enough to review Talbot’s Ploy and gave it 4.5 out of 5 kisses. Please take the time to read what they thought of it here.

As you might have already read from my previous blog post, I’m working on the prequel to Talbot’s Ploy. In fact, the bit I posted isn’t even the first chapter anymore. That’s how it works when you’re in a NaNo Frenzy. I just didn’t think, even though it was a good rough action scene, that it provided enough of the friendship he shared with his friends and the different reaction they had of him in their brief appearance in Talbot’s Ploy. Well, Delron and Landis anyway. 😉

I love history so in writing these I try to be as concise as possible on fact. Sure it would be nice to just write it up, forget about the world around them, and hammer out sex scene after sex scene. I, as a reader, expect more than that so when I write, I do the same. In the 18th century, if you were caught in the activities Talbot engages in with his partners, you were put to death. Period. There was zero tolerance for homosexuality. It’s not fiction, it’s fact. I can’t ignore that or not have my character live with a tinge of fear because of it.

Some have loved it, others don’t. I’m not going to dwell on it. The stories I weave aren’t cookie cutter or at least I don’t think so. It’s going to have layers and sometimes a minor character, like what I did with Mandy in Dream Weaver, will get their own story.

Here’s another tidbit of my work in progress from NaNo. It was Talbot’s Game but I think Talbot’s Seduction works much better. For those who read the Talbot’s Ploy you’ll recall a minor character Delphine. This is Talbot’s first meeting with her.


Talbot shot up. “I cannot do this.”

“Perhaps a drink?” She smirked.

“Oui.” He shook his head. “Non. I mean.” He slumped to the bed. He gazed at her breasts, the rosy areolas peaked as she played with them. He willed his cock to respond. Urged his hands to take command of what she possessed that moment. His body refused his demands. He fell back to the bed and draped an arm over his eyes.

“It is no use, Mademoiselle. I fear my reputation is bold and quite untrue.” Talbot sighed. “I have delved into something I cannot shake and my cock yearns to do the most wicked of things. God help me.”

“God cannot help you, Talbot. Not in this.”

Talbot bolted upright. “What know you of it? Such things are not common place nor a luxury of a brothel. Keep the coin, I shall hide away so my father thinks the task is done.” He went to stand and she pushed him down.

“I know plenty of which you speak, Talbot, and I can procure you whatever you desire. With discretion.” She put a finger to his lips to stop his next words. “I know, Talbot, and you are not the first to suffer with this affliction. Speak it and I shall give you your desire.”

“I cannot follow that path. It leads to death.”

“Only if you bed the wrong person and I can aid you in that. Do you wish it?”

Talbot fought with the carnal lust rising like the turbulent ocean. The Comte could never provide for him fully. The experience gained was like no other but Talbot yearned for more.

“Will it grant me peace I seek?” he whispered.

“Only if you embrace what you are without the chains of guilt.” She smiled.