Friday, 30 January 2015

Things I Need To Do In February ~ Not Related To Writing

Seriously, what the hell was I thinking…Here is the list of what I need to get done:

1… Organise for the hubs to go to New Zealand as he has some business meeting over there.
2… Organise eye appointments for my Mum as she needs a touch more laser done on her eye.
3… Help finish getting Emily ready for University—I think she is starting to freak out a little.
4… Draw a picture of the Ninja Turtles for my niece’s birthday—I should point out that my nice is thirty-ish—originally I drew a picture for her when she was a kid and now I have to update it so I will be drawing two… a copy of the original pic and one of the turtles as they appear in the last movie.
5… Draw 2 pictures for Emily (1) a collage of her favourite singers, & (2) a collage of her favourite WWE wrestlers—though in all honesty I can take as long as I want with Emily’s 2 drawings.

Thursday, 29 January 2015

Sentinels Of Varnuse 2: Wind Walkers [5]

After days of walking through the forest listening to his brother’s constant babbling complaints Crimson had had enough. “How hard do you think it will be if once we get to the next village if I publicly sell you off to the first wiling person that wants you?” He growled as he rounded on Nico. “Do you ever shut up?”

“It’s not my fault if these people are be leading us to our deaths,” Nico pouted a hurt look filled his eyes and Crimson knew it was because he’d never really ever yelled at Nico before.

Sighing Crimson took a deep breath. “They’re not trying to get us killed, Vayne and Arron are searching for their mate. Dominic was ordered to follow and help. He’s my mate, so where he goes, I’ll go.” Touching his brother’s arm he continued. “You can go back home if you want, I won’t force you to come with us. Dad’s the one who believes we’ll find your destiny along our travels.”

Nico did a whole body shiver before answering. “I can’t go by myself. Dad told you that I had to follow you.” He pointed to where Vayne, Arron and Dominic had stopped and were watching them. “If they were really interested in finding their Simian, then you think they would at least be heading in the right direction. Instead they’re just wandering around and getting us all lost, or worse, eaten by the Grimmask people. Can’t we just tell them which direction to go?”

“We’re going the right way.” Arron said menacingly as he strode towards them. “How is it you two always think you know everything? What makes you both so sure we’re headed in the wrong direction?”

Crimson stepped between his brother and the angered warrior. He felt Nico’s hands trembling as he held Crimson’s waist. Right now he didn’t know whether the trembling was caused by fright or anger. Knowing Nico the latter would be the right guess. His suspicion was confirmed when his brother stepped around him and stood toe to toe with Arron. Their size difference was almost laughable.

“I know all this because I’m not an idiot. Any fool knows where Tondran is taking Simian—if he believes Simian is the final great one Tondran wouldn’t have headed in this direction.” He gestured wildly in the direction they had been heading.

“If you are so smart then what direction would he have taken?”

Everyone watched and Crimson realised it was his turn to perform. He closed his eyes and turned in a circle, his arm held out in front of him. “Tondran went there. He’ll be taking the great one to monument of Mount Varnuse.”

Crimsons eyes flew open as Vayne snorted.

“Little one, Mount Varnuse is this way.” He pointed back in the direction they had originally been moving.

“Yes, Mount Varnuse is that way, but the monument isn’t actually at the base of the mountain. It was moved eons ago to Scarsian. It lies beneath the ruins of the original castle of our first kings.

What are you talking about, love? The castle of our kings is in the High City of Panthea—where King Quinlan now lives.” Dominic said as he stepped up beside Arron.

Crimson glared and slammed his hands down onto his hips in frustration. “I swear to the great ones that you people are as dumb as rocks. Did any of you even open the books you had in the years of learning? Everything I have been telling you is written down. It’s part of our histories.”

When it looked like no one—except for maybe Nico—knew what the hell he was talking about he started again slowly. Trying not to let his frustration get the better of him.

“In the age of the great ones; at the beginning of all known time, our king—Scarsian Varnuse Degart I, built his castle, it was near the small village that was of course named after the king himself. So if Tondran really knows just who he has in his hands he’ll be heading for the alter of Scarsian.”

When Arron turned towards Nico and spoke it made crimson see red. “Is he always like this? Does he believe the crap that’s coming out of his mouth?”

Crimson snapped slamming both palms into the centre of Arron’s chest, not that it even caused him to stumble. “Now you listen to me you big bone-head,” he fumed, “I along with my brother may complain a lot about walking through this damn forest. But do not—and I mean don’t ever—tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about when it comes into our histories. It’s something that’s been drummed into my head since I was a nestling. I know all of this because our grandmother believed in remembering where we all came from. Our ancestors, and our histories are important.”

Nico finally spoke. “Crim is right, Grandmother taught us everything. What he isn’t telling you is that Grandmother made Crim in particular learn everything to memory. She believed he was destined to be what our people would have once called The Queran—the mate of the first bird shifter’s descendant.”

“The who?” Arron sneered. Ï thought he was mated to Dominic. Are you telling me Dominic is a shifter?”

“No I’m not saying that at all. If Simian is a great one and he has two mates then is it not possible that Crim and Dominic also have another mate out there? Somewhere out there is the one person who’s a direct descended from Jaradeen Aarondyte. It’s said this descendent is the only one of all bird shifters who can take the form we were first gifted with. He’s the only one among us who can take the form of a crow.” Nico answered.

Crimson snorted. “It’s never going to happen because as much as I believe in the histories, I think that our bloodlines are too polluted for there to truly be a pure descendent. I honestly don’t need anyone other than Dominic.”

“What makes you so sure? Not that I’m saying I want to share you either.” Dominic asked.

Crimson blushed, “I believe if there was a true descendent still living, then I would feel them here.” He placed his hand over his aching heart. “If he’s our mate then you would feel it to.”

Thinking about the mate he would never have if his grandmother was right, hurt like a bitch. It was honestly better to focus on what he did have and not wish for more.

Wednesday, 28 January 2015

Super-Secret Project

I have decided that my in between(er) book—the book I write between all my main projects—for this year is going to remain unnamed—hence the reason I have called it my Super-Secret Project. I don’t think I’m going to share anything about it with anyone until after I complete the whole thing—just in case I truly suck at it. I’m trying a new avenue—something I haven’t done before.

So wish me luck.

I promise to keep everyone updated on where I’m at, and if I get stuck—let’s face it we all know this could happen to me. Right now I’m feeling pretty confident about the whole thing, but that could change as the year progresses.

On other news: I may have signed up to do another natural disaster story with MLR… I’ll fill you in as soon as I know for sure. I suggested the story, and we are just waiting to see if we get enough interested authors to become involved in the project. I hope we do as they were fun to write.

Tuesday, 27 January 2015

School Starts Again

I know I’m not the only parent out there celebrating the fact that the holidays are over and the kids are back in school. This morning I woke up with the biggest smile on my face and it hasn’t left yet. Don’t get me wrong—I love my kids, but to get eight hours of  uninterrupted peace a day is going to be fricken awesome.

Now we all just need a week to find the routine that works for us all. I'll be able to get back into the swing of writing without having to diffuse arguments... cook... run errands... shop... the possibilities are endless.

Monday, 26 January 2015

Guest Blogger ~ Lisabet Sarai: Nasty Business

Nasty Business
BDSM romantic erotica by Lisabet Sarai
Fireborn Publishing, January, 2015
78,000 words

Buy Links

All's fair in lust and business

Ruby Maxwell Chen, lovely and ruthless CEO of a huge British business empire, is used to getting her way. When she encounters the strangely charismatic American entrepreneur Rick Martell, though, she wonders if she hasn't finally met her match.

From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. Neither has any qualms about using sexual wiles to smooth the path to success. Neither anticipates that their mutual attraction will turn into something far more intense and difficult to control.

As their struggle for dominance escalates, they draw their employees and associates into their outrageous power games. The stakes could scarcely be higher, as Ruby and Rick play for the ultimate prize: a night of total physical surrender.

Excerpt (Rated R)
Bravo." A soft, melodious male voice, and then the sound of applause. "I'm extremely impressed."

I pull myself abruptly upright. Did someone dare to watch me and my medieval servitor?

I have just been finger-fucked to exhaustion, yet my first reaction is a wave of total, incomprehensible lust. Incomprehensible because the man who stands between the parted curtains is not at all my type. He is short and wiry. His hair is scraggly and a bit too long around his ears, and he has a dreadful drooping black mustache. He wears nondescript jeans and a khaki shirt.

Somehow, though, he radiates sexuality. His aura is palpable, the air thick and sticky as syrup. He fixes me with his intense, dark eyes and grins. I feel like I am melting. I want to spread my legs wider, desperately offer my swelling sex for him to use as he will.

I struggle with my impulses, close my legs decisively and try to stare him down. "I gather you were spying on me and my admirer."

"Indeed. A most entertaining and instructive tableau." He enters the balcony-space, letting the curtains close behind him, and picks up the flogger. The knotted thongs dangle an inch above my cleavage. "You seem to be quite an expert in the arts of discipline."

"Hardly," I say, taking the whip from him, trying to take control of the interaction. "I am just beginning to explore the possibilities. But," I say, my eyes narrowing to watch his reaction, "I do find myself quite sensitive to my partners' desires to yield to my power."

"I could see that. You knew what he wanted, and you gave it to him." He pauses and searches my face. "But, do you know what I want?"

Truly, I have no idea. He seems fascinated by the flogger, but I sense only a hint of submission in him, a playful curiosity totally different from the aching need of my recent conquest.

His eyes play over my body in a leisurely fashion, appreciative, it seems, but not urgent. Surreptitiously, I glance at his fly: an appealing bulk there, but no indication of arousal.

I, on the other hand, am hornier than I have been in weeks. Maybe months. Or ever. My clit throbs like a sore tooth. I lean forward so that my breasts part invitingly, and lick my painted lips.

"Tell me what you want," I purr. "I'm feeling generous tonight, and just might grant your request."

He leans toward me in answer, and grasps my chin. Strange electricity flows from his touch. My breasts ache. My cunt is on fire.

"I want you to take me home with you," he says with a cryptic smile. And then he kisses me.

I am not sentimental. I am not romantic, susceptible, easily mastered. But I swear, I could drown in this kiss.

His lips are smooth and full, his tongue demanding. He tastes of peppermint, and behind that, an aromatic trace of pipe tobacco. I smell his cologne, something clean, woodsy, Scandinavian.

I do not want to give in, and yet I do. I return his kiss, open my mouth wide to his probing. He senses my partial surrender, and presses his advantage. He has slipped his hand inside my vest, now, and is pinching my nipple hard.

I love it. I am awash with lust. I am dying for him to take me. My sex is liquid, spilling over. My scent rises in the velvet-draped space. I know that I cannot hide my desire, but still I try.

"You seem most enthusiastic," I say, my voice surprisingly steady. "But why should I allow you into my personal space?"

"Because you want to," he says, deftly extricating my breast from its leather casing and planting a kiss on its tip. "And because you think that you will have more control on your home territory. As an interloper, I will necessarily be at a disadvantage."

He's right. Many women would feel vulnerable, bringing a stranger into their home, but I'm more confident on my own turf than in some unfamiliar locale. I am astonished at his perspicacity. Who is this man? He appears so ordinary and yet there is both physical attraction, and psychological  intrigue.

Author Bio: 
More than a decade ago LISABET SARAI experienced a serendipitous fusion of her love of writing and her fascination with sex. Since then she has published more than fifty single author titles, including the BDSM classic Raw Silk, and contributed dozens of short stories to ebook and print anthologies. She has also edited several acclaimed multi-author collections and is currently editor for the altruistic erotica series COMING TOGETHER PRESENTS.

Lisabet holds more degrees than anyone needs from prestigious universities who would no doubt be embarrassed by her chosen genre. She loves to travel and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her highly tolerant husband and two cosmopolitan felines. For more information on Lisabet and her writing visit Lisabet Sarai's Fantasy Factory or her blog: Beyond Romance.

Excerpt (Lesbian Rated X)
The sun bakes my skin. I can feel the rays tracing paths of heat across my shoulders, my buttocks, my calves. It is soothing, soporific. I find myself drifting, my thoughts comfortably vague, my body washed in appealing sensation. I’m half-dreaming, remembering Liu’s caresses, hearing his suggestive whispers.

A sharp floral scent teases me awake. I turn toward Luna. She lies on her side, chin propped on her hand, watching me with an intensity that sends electricity up my spine. I trace the sinuous line of her body with my eyes, admiring the way her hips flow away from her waist and then recede into the gentler curves of her thighs. Her arms and legs are fleeced with golden down that stirs slightly in the moving air. One platinum tress hangs over her shoulder and dangles between her breasts.

My chest is tight with nervousness, yet there is a dream-like inevitability about all of this. Luna lets her hand trail over her body, brushing her nipples on the way down to the cleft between her thighs and sending a bolt of lightning to my sex. Her pubic hair is so fair that her mound almost seems naked. Her coral-hued lips are clearly visible, even before she parts them with her fingers. Her gaze holds mine as her hand travels upward again, smearing her juices over her belly, pinching the swollen buds of her nipples. It is I who moan when she inserts one sticky finger into her mouth and sucks upon it.

“You're so beautiful, Margaret,” she murmurs, dipping once again into the well of honey between her legs. “I want you so much. Don’t you want me?” She holds her hand out to me, appealing, almost waif-like. Without thinking, I take her proffered fingers into my mouth.

Her taste is simultaneously strange and familiar. Pungent, salty, rich, wild, embarrassing, and forbidden. My own juices spill over in response. She sees the evidence of my excitement and smiles at my silent answer. Lightly, she gathers a droplet from my thighs and licks it off her finger. Her eyes close as she savors me, and I am reminded of some flaxen-haired medieval angel, consumed by mystic ecstasy.

Sudden, fierce lust shatters my dreamy composure. I want her, want to take her, use her, devour her. Slipping off my chaise, I kneel at her side and take her face in my hands. Then I suck her into a long, violent kiss that leaves us both breathless. With one hand I am twisting her nipple, while the other probes her drenched pussy. I’ve never done anything like this before, and yet I know what I am doing, know from touching myself how to touch her.

Luna whimpers under my assault, arches her body and tries to force my fingers deeper insider her. “Oh, yes, please, yes…”

“You like this, Luna?” She can’t answer, she’s too far gone, but I know that I am giving her what she wants. I’ve found the slippery nub of her clit. I roll it between my thumb and forefinger, kneading and twisting, pulling until her hips rise right off the chaise trying to follow. I am not gentle; she does not want gentleness.

I release her clit, giving her a moment’s respite, then press my palm against her mound and push all four fingers into her cunt. She screams and I feel the shudders gathering in her flesh. I remove my hand completely. She whimpers in frustration, then sighs as I slip my index finger back into her folds and wiggle it playfully.

Her depths are lined with slick velvet. As I explore her, she shivers and moans. “More, please! More!” I lean down and take a cherry nipple between my lips, marvelling at the nubby texture of the swollen flesh against my tongue. So sweet, so juicy, I cannot help biting down on that lush morsel. Luna yells and writhes against my hand. She grabs it by the wrist and tries to force all my fingers into her soaked cunt.

“Nasty girl,” I say, pulling away from her. Her nipples pout insolently. On a whim, I slap one breast with an open palm. My own skin stings as I watch hers redden. Her eyes are closed, her lips half-open. As an experiment, I lay stinging blow on the opposite breast. Her pelvis jerks and grinds in response.

She wants it hard, wants it rough. I see this with sudden clarity. And I want to give it to her. “Knees up,” I say brusquely, amazed at the authority in my voice. “Feet on the chaise, thighs spread wide. And don't you dare to touch yourself.” Luna hastens to obey and I know that my intuitions are correct.

The undersides of her thighs are a creamy gold. I remember Liu’s leather strap and wonder what marks it would make on that succulent flesh. I’m just looking, not touching. Luna rotates her hips obscenely, inviting me.

“Little slut,” I whisper, “be careful what you wish for.”

Em's Turn ~ Just Some Of Our Home Grown Talent


My Family
Jesus & the Jedi

(Death Metal)

There are many many more
just too many to share

Sunday, 25 January 2015


4 Days & Counting

Is it bad that I'm counting down the days until the kids go back to school? I think not, but Ethan & Emily tell me yes it is... I'm just not seeing it as bad—4 days to go in case you're wondering.

Everyone will be happy to know my office is finally clean again—I can see the desktops—Now the kids need to stop leaving their crap everywhere. If it was me I would just put a lock on the door and be done with it but sadly this is a communal office—apparently we have to share.

Today I have Ethan and the hubs out doing yard work... Em is at her own place in Toowoomba (she'll be back on the 27th) to make sure that Ethan catches the school bus on the 28th as I'll be at a doctor appointment with Nan. Yes I know Ethan is 14 but God love a duck, it takes forever to get him up of a morning—especially if it's a school day. I have Nan settled down with a book and the remote for the TV...So finally I should be able to catch up on my writing without interruptions every 5 minutes—just hourly when I have to hang out the washing. 

I'm working on both The Lines of Marsden 3: You Make Me Die in Pieces—&—The Connelly Chronicles 2: Beautiful Goodbyes... I'm alternating hourly which one I'm working on. Hopefully that will keep me motivated to get them both done, and back to the respective publishers for approval.

Saturday, 24 January 2015

Today I...

Today I did another round of edits on Experimentals 2: Running Into Zero Tolerance for MLRPress and sent them back to my amazing editor Christie N.. Who in turn tells me they are now being sent to formatting for galley proof... Then after that it's only the cover to go. I can't wait to show you that when it comes in.

I'm still working on all of my other projects that need doing. Why is it when you are busy as all hell, new story ideas jump into your head trying to grab your attention and distracting you so badly you want to hit your head against the wall just to make it all stop? Or is that just me?

Friday, 23 January 2015

Sentinels of Varnuse 2: Wind Walkers [4]

Dominic leant back against the log and watched as Arron and Crimson bickered over just what to put in the stew pot. What did it even matter—food was food. He was sure Crimson only argued for the sake of hearing himself talk. It was kind of funny watching Arron get so flustered over the little slip of a man. He wondered how long it would be before Arron just lashed out and knocked Crimson out. God he hoped the stopped arguing soon—anything for some peace and quiet. Mind you, then he’d have to retaliate by knocking Aaron onto his arse for harming his mate.

“We need more spices, it brings out the flavours more, it will infuse the meat more.” Crimson declared.

“What meat? You chucked a hissy fit and wouldn’t let me add any.” Arron growled.

Crimson rolled his eyes, “I said you couldn’t have bird flesh as your meat source, feel free to stick anything else in it. Why don’t you get your big strong mate to catch your some fish and use that? Or hunt down a wilder boar”

Dominic chuckled; he knew Arron would rather die of starvation before he would ask Vayne for help with anything. The two were only together now because they were both mated to Simian. Not that either of them seemed to believe. They constantly argued no man in the history of their people had ever had two mates. So now they worked together to locate Simian, and once the man was found he’d be able to sort all this shit out by telling them just who his true mate was.

Over the time they’d been travelling companions Vayne had talked to him—probably needing someone to be his sounding board—someone who wouldn’t judge. He knew that deep down in his heart Vayne honestly he was Simian’s mate. Vayne was also pretty sure that Arron believed the same thing. The worst past for Vayne told him was that the more time he spent around Arron; the harder it was to keep the man at arm’s length. Apparently everything about Arron attracted seemed to Vayne.

“If you don’t go away and leave me the hell alone I am going to rip your tongue out and add it to the stew.” The sound of the anger in his voice was enough to bring Dominic back out of his thoughts

“I’m not doing anything wrong. You are the one who doesn’t know how to cook.” Crimson yelled as Arron stood up and strode towards the forest; punching a small tree as he passed. “You know that tree never hurt anyone” Crimson taunted.

Crimson turned towards him with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Well my work is done.” He laughed as he came over and sat beside Dominic.

“One of these days you are going to push him too far.” Dominic said

“He’s too uptight; he needs to loosen up a little. I never see him smile unless he’s looking at Vayne. But then it seems more of a sad smile like he’s hurting. I don’t understand why he’d be hurting? I mean they’re mates after all. Why doesn’t he turn to Vayne for comfort? Why doesn’t Vayne comfort him when he needs it? I know with us I’m going to love you like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll never treat you like you Like Vayne and Arron treat each other. Why can’t they see how wrong it is?”

When Crimson finally slowed to take a breath Dominic answered. “Arron and Vayne aren’t willing to admit they’re also mated to each other as well as Simian. They each think the other is claiming to be Simian’s mate out of spite.”

“What do you mean when you say they’re not mates? Of course they are. If they’re both mated to Simian then they have to be mated to each other, right? That’s the way it works with Simian’s kind. He needs the added love to keep him grounded and safe. If they don’t come to some sort of compromise on this, then they’ll never be truly happy once they’re reunited with Simian? Fate chose the three of them for a reason. Fate is never wrong.”

“Again I have to ask how do you know all this?” Dominic asked his mate genuinely perplexed by it all.

“Our grandmother was a big believer in the old ways, she taught Nico and I all about how things were and the way they were meant to still be. Something happened in all the eons that have passed and our way of thinking changed. Grandmother told us that one day it would be up to Nico and I to lead the world in the right direction and get our people back on track. Grandfather thought she was polluting our minds and he had her killed, he burnt all her books along with her body but I always remember the things she told us. Because I believe they are true.”

“Your Grandfather had his wife killed?” Dominic blurted in utter shock.

“Yes, apparently Grandfather isn’t a believer in the old ways.”

“One day you are going to have to write down all that your grandmother told you. Preserve the stories for generations to come.”

Dominic pointed to where Vayne had followed Aaron into the surrounding bush land and smiled—maybe things will all work out.

I hope so.