Monday, December 31, 2007

The Erotic Ritual of Recreational Reading

I don't get a lot of time for "recreational" reading, but sometimes I reach a point where I scream and just throw everything aside and pull a book out from the pile. It's like indulging in chocolate-covered strawberries and a glass of wine at the end of a day. Although if I add that into the ritual of reading, oh, that makes it all just so divine. Maybe a fragrant candle added to the mix.

Darn, it's first thing in the morning and I want to step away from the desk and do it RIGHT NOW!

There is a ritual to reading. And there is that ritual, be it paperback of electronic. I often hear people say, "well an ebook isn't like holding a paperback in your hand." Well, okay, I'll agree that's true. But really what one is talking about when they state that is "habit." We are used to a certain habit in our reading styles. That's what it comes down to. Where's the excitement in habit?

Ritual is a whole other aspect. It might include lighting the candle, pouring the wine, dipping the strawberries in chocolate, choosing the book, adjusting the lighting, finding that comfortable spot before you open the book. All of that can also be incorporated into reading an ebook.

Sensory responses are important. When I write, it's all about the senses. I like touching, I love the scent of things, be it a newly-mown lawn, the clean, brisk scent of newly-fallen snow, or the smoky aroma of fires burning on a frigid night.

When I pick up a paperback, the first thing I do is smooth my hand across the cover. I memorize the cool, silky texture of the stiff material, trace the raised lettering, carefully turn it over, slide a finger along the defined slant of the spine, around the sharp, taut edges, tracing and memorizing the shape, enjoying the sensation of holding it in my hand. I might be inclined to pet the slick, attractive artwork, breath in the essence of the adventure I'm about to embark on. Excitement builds as I open the cover. I might reach for a strawberry, maybe dip it in the wine, suck it between my lips, and then I turn my gaze to the words on the page. Ah, delicious.

Now, you might say, "See? You can't replace a paperback with an ebook?" I say, it's all in the ritual.

I read on my Palm which is sheathed in a leather case. I love the smell of leather, don't you? I contemplate the book I'll select from the dozens contained on my reader. Anticipation is so much a part of the ritual. Slowly, I draw the zip down, after I've smoothed my hand across the supple, pliant material of the black case. Ah, breathe in deeply. Leather has this earthy aroma to it that just reaches deep down inside. It's a sensual fabric deserving of appreciation, shrouded in primal energy. I inhale as I peel back the case to reveal my ereader. Texture so different, hard and sleek, at first cool to the touch, but as I enclose it within my grip it warms, my heat transferring pleasurably, yet still solid and firm, the infused warmth making it a subtle extension to me.

I might stroke across the screen, brushing away an errant speck of dust and then I press the small button and it bursts to life, soaking the screen with passionate words, scenes I control with a gentle, yet firm, touch of my hand, a stroke of my fingertip, pressing at just the right spot. With my ereader I am able to immerse myself even deeper into the story as I reach up to switch off the light, subtly drenching the atmosphere into a level of intimacy that, with the scents of leather and strawberries, and chocolate, surround me, drenching me with heady anticipation that I eagerly embrace.

The room grows quieter, the world is still and I tap the screen and begin to absorb the seductive words displayed, be it mystery or romance, fantasy or science fiction. This story is crafted to seduce me, to enthrall me, to pleasure me in ways only this tale will do. Thus, I feel the curling whisps of imagination curve around me, drawing me in.

I guess you see what I mean. Reading isn't habit, it's ritual. It isn't the packaging, so much as how we approach the leisurely enjoyment, how we delve into the story. How we appreciate its packaging, manipulate it, take pleasure in it, and eventually immerse ourselves into story. And don't you just love the exitement of mystery and discovery?

Now, anyone have any questions about why I write erotic romance? God, I love words in all their shapes and sizes, all their smooth curves and sharp edges, all their passion and seduction.

So what's your ritual?

Happy reading,


Friday, December 07, 2007

Podcast Excerpt for Scent Now Available

I've just posted a podcast excerpt from Scent. You can listen or download it at:

Title: Primal Magic 2: Scent

Author: Adrianna Dane

Author Website:

Purchase Link:

Publisher: Amber Heat (

SYNOPSIS: Their story began with If You Dare... Julian demanded her obedience. Rachel willingly offered her submission. The past has scarred him and only Rachel's magic can cleanse him and help to defeat his mortal enemy. Now a potion he has created will release her magic, but only if she offers her trust to him of her own free will and understands there's more to Julian Donata than she could possibly ever imagine. Tonight the primal desire that is at the heart of her dominant lover will be unleashed once again.


Come to me. Tonight.

Tightening the belt on her terrycloth robe, Rachel stepped from the steam-filled bathroom into her bedroom and walked toward her dressing table. Removing the lid of the gift box, she reached inside and lifted the contents, setting it carefully on top of the gleaming wood surface of her dressing table. Her gaze admired the lush curves of the bottle as she leaned over to set the box on the floor.

Something about the gift hypnotized her; it was a sensuous, bulbous figure narrowing to a slender, sleek base reminding her of a woman's generous, fertile curves. Her eyes widened as unbelievably the bottle seemed to unfold and ripple with movement; it shimmered and swayed as thought caught in an unheard, decadent rhythm. She blinked, but couldn't move, couldn't look away, caught in the throes of the erotic hallucination.

It swayed in undulating cadence; a dance of seductive grace. The decorative glass with raised, diagonal, flowing sections at either side at first appearing like translucent wings at rest against the curvaceous, ebony globe, suddenly unfolded like ethereal arms raised beseechingly to the sky. Rachel's breath stuttered in her chest at the mirage of movement.

She should be frightened by the manifestation occurring before her, but all she felt was excitement and growing heat emanating outward from her center.

There had always been an element of magical mystery about her trysts with Julian. Why should she be surprised at this? Isn't that part of what drew her to him?

Remove the robe.

A whispered command inside her head had her reaching for her belt and shrugging from the garment as she watch the undulations of the perfume bottle before her. It fluttered and shimmered, a life force now emanating a throbbing red glow, growing wider and wider.

She felt the cool air of the room slide against her skin, so different from the wet heat still lingering on her flesh from her recent bath. Panic began to leak into her mind at the unreality of the moment. Unconsciously, she lifted a hand to stroke the necklace at her throat.


It grounded her and she calmed as her searching fingers encountered the glittering collar of his possession. What was it his note had said?

Open yourself to receive this special gift created for you. Feel my presence. Give to me freely and it shall be yours.

She inhaled and released a long whoosh of panic. It steadied her as she felt his essence fill her. There was nothing to fear as his special brand of magic enclosed her within its embrace. He would never harm her, she knew that in her soul. The elemental caress of his presence surrounded her, yet she knew, if she chose to deny him, he would not force her, or ever harm her. He always had and always would let her decide for herself.

Lowering her hand to rest upon her thigh, she gazed at the bottle, opening herself to receive his gift, silently offering herself—and watched, wide-eyed, as the long, elegant stopper lifted effortlessly into the air.

Prepare, Rachel. Accept the scent of my favor, embrace the aroma of my dominion.

Her body tingled, her nerve endings unfurling, open, and ready to receive. If it brought her closer to Julian, she willingly accepted—he had to know that after all this time. She loved him with a passion that exceeded rationality—flew beyond the borders of civilized society.

The bottle continued to sway in a fluid mimic of movement to an unheard beat, but something echoed inside her head, a melody calling her into motion, mirroring the undulations of the bottle. She rose from the bench and began to sway, closing her eyes, hearing inside her head the pitch of primal, vibrating notes, and allowing it to drive her body. The touch of smooth, wet glass against her neck made her gasp, and then the scent was inside her as her skin quickly absorbed it, an arrow of molten passion, flying through layers of societal strictures, past polite response, slicing into the primal heat hidden far beneath the surface, freeing it from the prison.

Open yourself. Should me your acceptance of what I offer.

She heard his voice through the waves of deep feeling, and lifted her hands to her pussy, feeling the thick, slick cream of her arousal, she separated her engorged lips, offering herself to him. Cool, wet glass seemed to pierce the heat of vagina, as the long elongated stopper slipped inside, thrusting in and out, slow and steady, her pussy clinging to it, greedy for every ounce of sensation, every glimmer of liquid it offered to her, releasing her own brand of sensual perfume in return.

Closing her eyes, she thrust against the slender invasion, envisioning Julian's strong hands as the guiding impetus, stroking inside her, drawing her climax, needing her pure, willing response to his demands.

Read another excerpt at:

"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Perspectives from the Northwest

Daylight truly does show the realities the night cloaks. As you may be aware we’ve gotten a lot of wind and rain recently. We’re on fairly high ground here, and have been lucky. But I looked out the window this morning and found the water was a bit higher, and closer, than what I had thought.

I went shopping yesterday morning at the local Wal-Mart in Chehalis. I was just going to do our regular weekly shopping, but with the forecasts I thought it might be better to take some time to stock up on some things. Watching the aerial views about an hour ago, I saw that very same Wal-Mart under water. A scary feeling.

I’m hearing the helicopters and small planes overhead this afternoon. The sun is starting to peek through the clouds.

I’m glad to be an early morning person because I was able to get out for a bit yesterday. It did appear that about half the cashiers had called in because of the flooding and by the time I got to check out, it was a back-up cashier who apparently starting working about a month ago. The person assisting with the bagging had also started around the same time.

Yes, the checkout was slow, but at least they were they to help get the people out. I remembered to thank them. Yes, they were there, but would the get home last night? I hope they did. I sometimes thing we don’t thank people enough for the small things, like bagging and being there to do their jobs. Yes, we were all a little stressed, and I know they wanted to be out of there as much as I did. But they showed up and they stayed and did there best, and I know that I for one appreciated that.

I heard on the news last night before I went to bed, about a woman who called for assistance because she was in labor. Emergency crews were unable to get to her. I have to say I worried about her and wondered what happened. I was happy to hear that there were some volunteer firemen stranded in the same area and they were able to get to her and help her. Thank Goodness. So thank you for the big things, too.

I also so that there were some salmon stranded on city streets and watched and encouraged as they swam toward deeper water. You could hear the people shouting encouragement to the poor things and applauding as they succeeded. Salmon are a good poster child for never giving up, no matter how great the odds of success seem to be.

In any crisis trying to find the good and the strength that comes out of it is the way to survive. The sun does shine eventually.

My husband was at work yesterday and is still stranded on the coast. He had to use a pay phone to reach me because there’s apparently a tower down somewhere and his cell phone wasn’t working. Several hours later I received a call from his customer (hubby refinishes wood floors for a living) and she wanted to assure me he was all right just in case I hadn’t heard from him, and to offer me a place to stay if our house was in danger of flooding.

The light shines through any storm, any disaster if we can just take the time to look for it.