Of Spiders and Sexy Aliens - #WW with Author Lucy Woodhull

Ju has generously invited me to her blog to give away and talk about my new adventure romance RAGNAR AND JULIET 2: CONCUBINE BOOGALOO, which is a sequel to, you guessed it, RAGNAR AND JULIET.  It's just your average rom-com set in space with a dash of Princess Leia hair and a sexy man with a tail.  But what I'm really here to talk about is a terrible scourge upon the face of this planet (and several of the ones I make up):  spiders.  It is known that the more legs you have, the eviler you are, and also the harder it is to buy shoes.

Juliet, the short-skirt-loving, jerk-hunting, aliens-with-weird-appendages-humping heroine of CONCUBINE BOOGALOO, detests spiders. They give her nightmares, look creepy, and are often covered in gross hair. So when she visits Ragnar's (said alien with appendage) parents on his home world of Alutia, things go badly when she's confronted by the family pet. I won't give too much away, but a mess ensues, and perhaps the word "splat."

She doesn't need this hassle -- there are so many more rotten things happening to her!  In the first RAGNAR AND JULIET, Juliet bounty-hunts Ragnar, figures out he doesn't deserve to be hog-tied and delivered to King William the Nefarious (who has a penchant for torture and gold lamé), and ends up with a boyfriend, but also a psychotic monarch who is now after the both of them.  What fun!  Well, the "sexy Ragnar" part is entertaining, at least.

In the sequel, Juliet sets out to overthrow William as king of New Los Angeles; he keeps hundreds of concubines as sex slaves, drugged against their will to stay in his palace.  He's even worse than the spiders.  But Juliet's hiding a secret from Ragnar, and must fight for freedom, justice, and to win her man back at the same time.  Can she and her gravity-defying corsets do it?  I hope so; it's a romance, after all!

Here's an excerpt -- WARNING:  It's sexy and a little NSFW if your boss likes to read over your shoulder.  But the best part about writing a sequel is that you can begin the book with some down and dirty action!  There are no spiders, though, in this part.  Spiders and sexy do NOT mix.  (Unless you are a frisky spider, I suppose.)

Ragnar and Juliet 2: Concubine Boogaloo

Chapter 1

Love (n): a disease not dissimilar to dysentery, only with more kissing.

Juliet strained against the handcuffs while she simultaneously marveled at their comfort. “What kind of evil highwayman uses purple fuzzy restraints to subdue people?”

The brigand loomed over her supine form on the cot. No other furniture adorned the airless metal room. Delight twinkling in his blue eyes, he eased his weight over her hips; he swelled against her pelvis as if he enjoyed torturing her. He licked his lips. Such pretty lips. A shudder worked its way up her spine to her arms, manacled above her head; she involuntarily arched upward. A smile crept across his face. “They were giving them away at the last highwayman convention.”

“Kidnapalooza 2459?”

He chuckled.

She flopped back onto the canvas of the cot. She was a sucker for a filthy chuckle. “That’s not a very menacing laugh.”

“Well, Kidnapalooza does not at all convey the sort of terror I expect you to be experiencing.”

“Ragnar!” Juliet sat up. Correction: She tried to sit up, but her adorable bindings whipped her backward. Once she landed, she attempted to adopt a sexy captive pose. “You are the worst kidnapper kidnapping an innocent milkmaid ever.”

“How about if I said, ‘Give me your milk, maid.’?”

She bit her bottom lip to keep from giggling. Someone had to maintain sex game artistic integrity. She wailed in theatrical angst and tossed her hair. Her head bounced off the steel tube at the edge of the bed. “Ouch. I can’t lactate on command, you vile vermin!”

One tan finger trailed between her breasts, currently encased in a fluffy, white blouse over a physics-defying red corset. Her “innocent milkmaid” skin tingled under the delicate onslaught. “Let’s see if you have other talents, shall we?” His voice was softer than his touch. It soothed from his barrel chest in ripples of silk. Giant men should not be able to incapacitate in such a … quiet way. That was probably how he’d convinced her to shack up with him and explore the galaxy together in the first place. Well, it was less “explore” and more “flee from a psychotic king named Bob who wanted to kill them both.” They’d met when she bounty-hunted him for King William (Bob) the Nefarious, supreme monarch of New Los Angeles and the moon of Bel Air. All of the best romances begin in such ways.

It turned out that Ragnar had rescued an enslaved concubine from Bob’s clutches, and didn’t deserve to die. Juliet graciously decided not to deliver him to Bob, especially after Ragnar turned the tables and kidnapped her. The jerk king found them anyway, and was currently none too pleased about their escape, especially Juliet’s. Bob desired her in a very carnal, very icky way.

No longer able to bounty hunt as she now played the part of “huntee,” Juliet resolved to put Bob out of the sex-slave business permanently. He kept hundreds of concubines in his temple of debauchery, all drugged to stay against their will. And, dammit, she would end that practice or die trying. Hopefully not the latter. Her plans were already in motion. Whether Ragnar would approve of her “topple the government of a planet” scheme or not was the big question.

Oh, Ragnar. One thing he could always be trusted to approve of—her boobs. Smoldering blue eyes locked onto hers as he tugged on the tie at the top of her shirt. One inch. Her hips squirmed. Another inch. He smirked. A third inch. She leaned into him and breathed deep. Mmmmmm, his smell. Sex dipped in pizza. The blouse fell open. Not pizza literally. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head. But she really, really wanted to eat his pepperoni.

His tail jerked upward to an annoyed angle. “What are you thinking about?” he demanded. Ragnar appeared mostly human, save for two differences. One, the adorable orange spots at his temples, accompanied by a long orange (and terribly dexterous) tail named Torval that flowed from his truly superior posterior, and two, his ability to turn invisible, like a sexy ninja lizard.

Juliet snapped her mouth shut and lifted her cleavage to his face. “I think only of you, mysterious stranger. And of Torval, naturally.”

In a muffled voice, he said, “Much better. You’re more eager than the other milkmaids I steal.”

With a mighty heave, she twisted sideways and bounced him off the sorry excuse for furniture. Inside of three seconds, she tripped the toy handcuffs, whipped her wrists free, and leaped atop his prostrate hunkiness.

She tore open his fly and took him in her mouth. His head fell with a clunk onto the metal floor of the supply bay of his ship, the intimidatingly named Bobo.

“Juliet,” he whispered, his hips bucking toward her warm, welcoming lips.

There wasn’t too much better in the universe than hearing him say her name that way, his voice full of adoration and pure, blind lust. On her knees, she licked the beautiful length of him while she cupped him through the rough fabric of his trousers. The pulse in her sex throbbed almost painfully as she worked him without mercy. His hand plowed through her hair, rough, pulling, pushing, until he cried out and came. She stayed there, taking him in and absorbing his shudders until his fingers relaxed at her temple.

“Maybe you should be the highwayman next time,” he murmured.

“And you’ll suffer as my poor, wronged milkmaid?”

He hauled her up until she lay atop him like a blonde blanket. “I’ll be whatever you want. In fact…”  He flipped her over onto her back. “Let me show you what the filthy kitchen maid taught me to do.” He maneuvered onto his knees between hers. He shoved her billowing skirt into a lump at her waist, his pretty lips worshipping their way from one inner thigh to the other. She nearly leaped from her skin. “Where are your panties?” he demanded in shocked tones. “It seems to me that you’ve been aching for a big-cocked highwayman to put you to good use.” She could feel her own slick desire as his every nasty word blew gently across her pussy. His teasing caress hovered maddeningly out of reach.

“Ragnar—”

He came no closer, but fluttered his breath on her needy body. “I have subdued the vixen bent on doing evil to me.”

“Please…”  She clenched against the swell of desire in the very core of her. It only made the ache worse. She let out a whimper.

He laughed. “Repent your sins, Juliet.”

She sat up. He pushed her roughly back to the floor with one big hand. Pinning her there, he stretched until his devil grin graced her breasts. He ripped her blouse open. She didn’t mind, for she’d destroyed her share of his clothes. It was a wonder he even wore any with her around. To save her wildly expensive corset, she began to unhook it. “I repent my dastardly life of … of…” His smile of triumph tripped her thought process. “Being dastardly.” Slowly, she peeled the two halves of the corset away from one another, presenting herself for his approval. “See?”

His gaze went a little hazy. Two of his fingers traced from under her right breast to the nipple. They squeezed. She fell back to the icy deck again. His hot tongue followed the path blazed by his hand on the right, and then the left breast.

“So you admit you’re a bad, bad woman?”

“Every wicked inch of me.”

A grunt signaled his agreement. This was almost better than when they played Dirty Priest and Sexy Housewife with a Comically Large Number of Sinful Confessions. Her thighs parted and he settled into the saddle of her pelvis, his mouth lazily drinking in every inch of her skin from the waist up. Her below-skirt parts took exception. Pleasure rippled from wherever he played straight to her hips as they rocked into his. He met her, pulse for pulse. The heat built into a white pinpoint of fire between her legs. She rubbed against his once-again hard cock. Ye gods, it felt good. The tip of him pushed insistently against her clit. She was so close, so close.

Squawk! The ship’s P.A. system screeched to life. “Eep. Now entering the Xanadu Galaxy.”

Ragnar stopped. Juliet balled her fists in her hair.

“Eep,” finished Pippy, Ragnar’s terribly efficient first mate. Pippy was a Gallod, an intelligent race known for their navigational talents, cute and furry bodies, and talent for cock-blocking their boss’ girlfriends. The comm panel fizzled to silence.

“He. Does. That. On. Purpose.”

* * *

I'm giving away a copy of both RAGNAR AND JULIET and RAGNAR AND JULIET 2: CONCUBINE BOOGALOO to one lucky winner!  Leave a comment and tell me what your insect (or animal) nemesis is to enter.  Colorful stories encouraged.

Thanks, Ju!

Lucy Woodhull

www.lucywoodhull.com

Liquid Silver Books:  http://www.lsbooks.com/concubine-boogaloo-p695.php
Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Concubine-Boogaloo-Ragnar-Juliet-ebook/dp/B0092K47X0/?_encoding=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&linkCode=ur2&qid=1346093356&s=digital-text&sr=1-2&tag=missw-20
AllRomance:  https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-concubineboogaloo-923901-143.html

#WW Author J M Stewart's writing journey with a giveaway

I have Author J M Stewart talking about her writing journey, giving some fantastic advise to aspiring authors and all you need to do is comment for a chance to win her fantastic book! 

:Steps off dais and hands the stage to our lovely guest:

I started writing somewhere around eleven years ago. Way back when my kids were still small. It began as a dream that demanded to be written down. A story emerged from that dream. Suddenly I had characters and a story, and I was hooked. Back then, I had no idea about what publishing would be like. I knew enough to know that I wanted a critique group. I wanted to share my new babies with others, but I also wanted to know if I was any good and how could I make it better. I couldn’t even tell you what led me to one. I honestly don’t remember.

But…I eventually found a forum. I learned a lot about the publishing industry and my craft from other writers who’d been doing this for longer than I had. I didn’t really have any conceptions at all about the writing world. It was a completely new concept to me at the time. 

One of the biggest things I learned originally? My craft. I needed to learn things like GMC and ‘show don’t tell, plotting. How to craft a good sentence. Vary your structure. Don’t use “that” or “just”. There were so many rules my head was spinning. I was like, really? I have to say, learning these was very difficult for me. There was a point where I was sure I’d never learn these things and I’d never get better. I think over time I must have absorbed them via osmosis, because with every book, I got a little better. Though I still can’t plot to save my life. lol

The second most important thing I learned? Develop a thick skin. Everybody, from editors to critique partners to readers, are going to have a say about what I write. Truth is, not everybody is going to love what I write, either. My most recent book, I’ve gone through four readers and every person whose read it has given me a different opinion on it. Developing a thick skin has come in handy a time or two. I’ve had editors give personal feedback when they rejected a book. The Playboy’s Baby went through a couple of revisions, based on things editors told me. I ended up liking the result, however. It was a better book for it.

I’ve also had a reviewer who didn’t like the heroine in my first book (I was okay with that…once I got over the shock). And I’ve had more than a few critique partners who hated what I wrote and were positive I was doing it all wrong. It hurts to be told that stuff, but if you’re going to fling it out there, you have to be prepared for what comes back. It’s easier if you know going in that not everybody is going to love your baby. Or even that your baby…might be not be as perfect as you thought it was. Personally, I’m beginning to love revisions. I love taking something I thought was good and watching it get better. Watch the revisions turn it into something that makes me stand back and go…wow.

Advice to an aspiring author? Never give up. You’re going to get a lot of no’s. But don’t ever let that stop you from trying. I say that, because writing is very personal. We put bits of ourselves in every sentence, every story. These aren’t just characters in a book. These are friends. I’ve lived and breathed with these people. They keep up at night. So things like rejections… hurt.

If you get a personal rejection, use it. Take a good long look at what the editor told you. Will taking their advice make your book better? It sure did for me. Then fling your baby back out there. Though I’ll be honest. I did get one revision request which didn’t fit how I saw my characters, and I decided not to do it.

When I was first learning how to write, someone, I don’t remember who anymore, said that sometimes it’s a matter of finding the right editor for your work, and this sure ended up being true for me with The Playboy’s Baby. The book got rejected a few times before it finally found its home, and one thing I remember is that nobody’s reason for turning it down was the same. Every single rejection had a different reason. I really became disheartened. It had gone through several revisions already, and I was sure at one point the book just had a fatal flaw. But my agent, God bless the woman (I mean that) refused to give up. She kept flinging it out there, and then one day she had good news for me. We had a contract offer, and the editor loved it. I believe I remember reading that I’d made her react emotionally to the story. I went, wow, really? I did that?

So, take the lumps. Learn from them. Use them to make your baby shine brighter. But never ever give up. Rejections can suck the wind right out of my sails sometimes. But if I’d given up, I wouldn’t be where I am today. It’s only three books so far, and nothing in print yet, but I’m still amazed by the fact that I’m even here. I get to share Dillon with the world and I find that incredible. If you have a dream, never give up on it.

Blurb:

They can't forget the past, but is it enough to create a future?

When an accident leaves her guardian to her six-month-old niece, Emma Stanton must return to her small hometown of Hastings, Montana to find the one man she's spent the last eight years trying to forget. She and Dillon had grown up together--he was her sister's best friend. But that hadn't stopped him from sharing a kiss with Emma that had followed her through the years. Now, not only must she break the news of her sister's tragic death to Dillon, but she must risk the only family she has left and tell him he's the baby's father.

Wealthy nightclub owner Dillon James has been used for his name and money one too many times, so when he comes face-to-face with Emma Stanton and her gorgeous lips, he's determined to keep things light. All he wants is to be the father his daughter needs, to make up for not being there for her and her mother. But spending time with Emma, as she shows him the ropes of caring for his daughter, is wearing down his defenses. Perhaps it's time he took a chance on love.

If only he can convince Emma to take a chance on him...

Excerpt:

Emma gave in. She laid her head against his chest and allowed herself to accept the comfort. His heart pounded a soothing rhythm beneath her ear, his body warm against her cheek. She wanted to bury her nose in his chest and fill her lungs with his scent.

Feelings she didn’t know what to do with. How could a man she’d grown up hating make her feel so warm and safe? His touch, the look in his eyes, made everything right again. Nobody since her mother had ever made her feel so protected.

Arms wrapped around his back, she looked up into his face. He lifted a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Sweet tension moved thick and palpable between them, until she became lost in the deep, liquid pools of his eyes.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, his head came down and his mouth touched hers, the briefest of kisses, merely the brush of lips, light and electrifying. She froze, standing on the precipice of something that would alter everything between them. It would force her to face the feelings she held for a man she shouldn’t want.

Heart pounding against her ribcage, she closed her eyes. She needed to push him away. It was the right thing to do. His mouth touched hers again, sipped and tasted, and she lost the battle. A tiny, shuddering exhalation of defeat slipped from her lips. She pressed into him and shamelessly offered herself up to him. God help her, she couldn’t deny her attraction to him, couldn’t deny the need that fluttered hot and tangible in her belly, or the sweet pleasure rocketing up her spine.

A quiet groan rumbled out of him. A sound of surrender, of needs too long denied. His other hand slid into the hair at the base of her skull, and he deepened the kiss. His mouth moved over hers with a gentle insistence that weakened her knees.

She shuddered, whimpered, and curled her fingers against the solid muscle beneath her palms, caught between holding on for dear life and pulling herself closer. She’d kissed a few men in her life, but none of them ever made her feel like this. His kiss was better than she could have imagined, his lips far softer, his mouth headier, like a fine wine that went to her head in a dizzying rush.

With infinite control and patience, Dillon pulled back and stared at her with dark eyes so full of raw hunger she trembled beneath their power. His right hand cupped her cheek and his thumb stroked her chin, grazing her bottom lip. His gaze followed for a moment before he looked at her again.

“I suppose that was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Buy link: http://www.amazon.com/The-Playboys-Baby-ebook/dp/B008RPKBMM

Where to find me on the web:
Website: http://authorjmstewart.com
Blog: http://jm-stewart.blogspot.com/

Earth Shattering RELEASE DAY (not) with a giveaway

If you want the short news, here is it in 50 words or less ;) 

Today is the release day for Ecstasy Entwined, a story about: A siren whose voice can kill and a vampire who strips her fears along with her clothes. Over the phone or with sex toys, this vampire hopes to deliver some fangtastic orgasms.

Let me know if the book is something you'd read in the comments and I'll put all the comments into a hat and pick a winner! Easy, peasy - eh?  

:Rubs hands and gets to next business: Okay :) If you're still here, let me tell you what I assumed(albeit ignorantly) when I was an aspiring author.... I always thought that every release day is going to result in the earth shattering (er, we wouldn't want the zombie apocalypse to come rushing, so let's say, the earth stops moving) and the heavens parting..and then.... I guess you get the idea...  but strangely, the point is..the day turned out to be even more busier than normal... As we're living in a temporary accommodation and have to vacate the place in another 2 weeks to 4 weeks (depending on when the owners are going to arrive and claim their land..er...house), I am running around like a headless chicken and looking for apartments.... Spicy enough? No...? Then, add to it additional cleaning because we need to keep this place spic and span like they gave it to us ;) and then pepper with some extra cooking since the hard task of hopping from bus to trams to view 1 room studios that cost the sky to rent.... makes me doubly, triply hungry. The one thing I can't be is remain hungry ;)

So, that's an example of how a day should be (not!).... Oh, how could I forget fielding calls and questions from my parents and in-laws regarding the fact that--regarding lot of facts, actually...but I'm going to close my eyes and bury my head in the sand, pretending the BIG elephant doesn't exist on my release day... Oh and it's not yet up on Amazon, but not for lack of my refreshes ;) :p

Since this is technically Aug 1 night for me...I'm struggling to keep my eyes open as I type it as it is after a treating myself and my husband to Fuseli a la Ju Dimello, and ... and so, I'm just going to wish myself sweet dreams, while asking you... How was your day today? Hope you had some fun :) If not, eat some chocolate, drink some wine and enjoy the summer whisking by to give way to another lovely season, namely, autumn.