Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Happy New Year...

Originally uploaded by adriannadane
"Happy New Year...for lord sake," she snapped. That made the hundredth time if not more that she had to wish someone a happy new year.

"Happy, happy, happy," she muttered as she turned back to her computer and resumed pounding at the keys.

New Year's Eve, New Year's Day, New Year's Resolutions! She was sick to death of talking about the new year. What's so good about the beginning of another year? She'd just like to know. New taxes, new bills, same old job, no raise. Just what was so great anyway? She'd broken all her resolutions, spent New Year's Eve at home alone, burned the ham on New Year's day--give me a break.

She kept on typing, stopping and starting again as she made mistake after mistake, muttering to herself.

"What am I doing here?" It wasn't the first time she'd asked herself that question. "No one appreciates me. I'm just taken for granted by everyone. Eliie will do this, Ellie will do that--for God's sake doesn't anyone else exist in this office?" Talk about feeling sorry for herself.

"Hey, Ellie," Marvin the mail guy rushed up to her desk. "I'm really sorry. This envelope was for you and it got stuck under a shelf in the mailroom." He handed her the envelope.

As she took it, she muttered thanks, sort of absentmindedly. Who could it be from? She didn't recognize the handwriting. Well, the only way to find out was to open it.

She picked up her letter opened and ran it along the sealed flap of the envelope. It was a card. It said, "Happy New Year from the whole gang." It was signed by everyone on the floor. It also contained a gift certificate for her favorite restaurant. And it said, "Take a break on us--you deserve it!"

Slowly a smile spread across her face and the dark cloud that seemed to be surrounding her, lifted. Well, maybe the new year wouldn't be so bad after all.

January 7, 1991

Monday, December 22, 2008

Winter's Day

Originally uploaded by adriannadane
I wrote this poem for my children, who are all now adults, on a very snowy afternoon.

Winter's Day

Snowflakes in the air today,
falling, calling me out to play.

Cold and white and wet and clean,
Shapes are many, all unseen.

Calling to me from the sky,
"Come join us, we'll pile high."

Bundled warm I rush outside,
Towing a sled that I can ride.

Time for snowmen the flakes do say,
Or angels maybe to brighten this day.

Shoveling walks for passersby,
Jumping into those flakes that are piled high.

And when the sun it settles down,
Home is where I'm finally bound.

To sip hot chocolate and warm my toes,
And think of snowmen as this day comes to a close.

January 6, 1991

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Her Own Traditions

Christmas normally meant rushing around to do last minute shopping, helping to prepare for Christmas dinner and exhaustion complete at the end.

This year would be different though. Miranda wasn't planning to go home this year. It seemed odd somehow--all those family traditions--not to be celebrated this year. She felt a bit sacraligious somehow when she'd informed her mother she wouldn't be home this year--how could she break tradition?

But looking back, Miranda was glad she had done it. The rushing, all the excitement, all the people. She needed a break. It had been a tough year for Miranda. She'd been sick a lot and her body was telling her to ease off. That was what really led to the big decision not to go home for Christmas.

Tradition--what was it really? But something started at one point for whatever reason and repeated year after year until it becomes a natural habit of things--and difficult. It wasn't that old traditions were bad, but for her, right now, she needed something different. Maybe just a time reassess.

This year she would be starting her own tradition. Quiet time for herself. How strange to think about all these years, that if she broke "tradition" a big pit would open and swallow her up. It didn't happen though. Her mother had understood--sort of. But at any rate here she was now curled up on the sofa, engulfed in a multicolored afghan blanket and Buttons, her calico cat, curled up in her lap fast asleep.

It had been nice attending Mass and being able to savor the full meaning of Christmas, enjoying each moment and able to stop and appreciate the peace and beauty of the night.

Miranda though she would hate staying at home, being by herself, and missing her famiily. But even though she missed the boisterous family cheer, she enjoyed the peace and solitude.

She was older, no longer the child of her parents' traditions, but an adult ready to make her own way. How strange that she finally felt old enough to make these decisions. Had the umbilical cord finally been cut or had it only been weakened? That was yet to be seen. Miranda only knew she would savor this moment for the here and now.

So she took a sip of her hot chocolate and picked up the book she bought just to read on this special night -- Dickens' "A Christmas Carol," and carols softly playing in the background. The small table lamp the only light to illuminate the room. Maybe next year she would go back to the traditions of her parents and her childhood, but for now, this was what was right for her.

January 7, 1992


If Miranda's story had been written today, she'd be reading "A Christmas Carol," on her ebook reader, and connecting with her family by webcam Christmas morning.

An interesting thought as to how the technological changes in just a few years can tweak our family traditions to fit our lifestyle and our personal needs. :-)

With much love and peace,


Saturday, December 20, 2008

Thoughts To Music

Originally uploaded by adriannadane
Christmases long ago were a simpler time.
Pleasures plainer...

Faith of Our Fathers reminds me of Thanksgiving.

I see glitters of silver and gold,
the pomp and circumstance of kingdoms.
A royal walk and processions of many,
a formal affair, powdered hair.
Silks and satins in muted colors and whisperings of luxurious cloth...

Then I roam amongst the middle class,
with warmth of fires, maybe a Charles Dickens classic.
The laughter abounds in the homes filled with warmth.
A skip and a hop, a smile with a twinkle, a flirtatious glance from
behind elegantly painted fans.

A room that could encompass a country with its size,
as the crowded room dances with a measured step,
a curtsy here, a bow there.

And now in the drawing room we sit and listen to a quiet concert
of one.
A melancholy moment, elegant and pure,
as the music captures and enraptures the room.

Away to the manager as a child is born.
More simple and purely rapturous it cannot be.
To the child that waits as the kings attend and the people do
come in processions and lines,
shepherds, kings, and all that do know.
As the angels watch over the manager below,
and here is the child of Mary...

The present emerges with visions of stores and snow-covered streets.
A rock opera of the present--42nd Street--New York--
a commercial production with jazz as its beat.
The dancers I see all aglitter on stage as they move and retreat.
Dashing with presents here and there, back and forth.
Wild is the beat as only the present can bring.

A modernist movement not to be outdone by the Christmas
production next door.
The present's interpretation of a holiday celebration.

And now we move on into a home of joy.
Still the present to be sure--but to a quieter side of of our nature.
A tree stands tall with the twinkling of lights, a fire in the fireplace.
Side by side we watch as the virgin snow falls to blanket the earth.
Children asleep as we enter the quietest and most profoundly peaceful moment of the year.
No other is like it, no other to compare,
To this moment of oneness with past, present, and future
Christmas Eve--the most holiest of nights.

December, 1996

Friday, December 19, 2008


Originally uploaded by adriannadane

Cold that is chilling, biting, killing,
Ice that is clear and crisp and brittle.
Sky not blue but mirrors winter,
No sun to warm the frigid earth.

Mind not thinking, numb and unfeeling.
Spring come soon to melt this frost.
Coldly winter, solid forever,
Ice unmoving, hotly cold.

Touch the ice with fingers of heat.
Away they come, slick, dripping water,
Red from cold, shiny wet.

Prints remain on ice forever,
Tracts made by the fingers of heat.
Spring come soon to melt these wonders,
Terrified thoughts encased in ice.

Sleep we do until the warming.
Not moving, unthinking, captured beneath solid ice.


February, 1994

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Winter in Washington

Originally uploaded by adriannadane
Yes, we have snow this year. I really like snow at Christmas. I was out this morning and I still say, Christmas snow--holiday weather feels different than it does in January and February. It's brisk and pretty and exciting. It sparkles, it's soft and puffy and glimmers with that special sheen of magic.

The sky is silvery and silent. Like it's waiting, as we all are--standing still, hovering, watching and waiting.

Here in Washington, I expect the snow won't last long. I remember New York winters and Montana winters, the snow likes to linger. It's rather mulish like that.

So I hurry out to take the pictures I can before it all disappears. And I thought I'd share.


Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The Age of Sexy Maturity

I so often hear people say, "I'm working toward retirement, but I'm just marking time. I hate this job." I don't get it. Why do we want to rush our lives? Is it the money? Where's the quality of life in that statement?

I'll admit I worked as a legal secretary in order to help support the family and maintain life insurance for the children. I didn't hate what I did--I liked it. It wasn't my passion like writing is, but it was a good profession and I felt challenged in what I did. You work for attorneys and see if you aren't challenged.

But in my spare time I was writing, learning how to work with stained glass, writing, taking genealogy courses, writing, taking community courses in Italian and Russian, writing... I wasn't waiting for "some day." Maybe because my father had his first stroke at thirty-eight, his second at forty-two, and he died at fifty-two, it gave me a different perspective about time and life. He had been a carpenter, an avid fisherman, a hunter, and he liked painting and going to the horse races in his spare time. He spent his last ten years in a wheel chair.

I guess it's all in perspective and what we hope to achieve in life. What are our dreams and aspirations? And we're all different. I have to say, I've always written--finding scattered moments here and there between job and kids and husband and activities. Often at activities--soccer games, hockey games. No moment in life should be wasted--it's all too precious.

Then there's that thing called "midlife crisis." What is that? He drives a sports car, she maybe learns to play tennis or get a different look. The kids are grown and they now have money for the fun stuff. That's "midlife crisis?" What is there that says crisis? Spare me. Wait till you get there. You're free and you're going to make the most of it. I was once told that a woman my age shouldn't wear long hair. Oh, but it looks okay on you. What? Give me a break. Since when. Whatever. My pleasure, your loss.

I was just reading an article in Out Magazine about Frank Langella. Remember, sexy Dracula? Oh, yum. I digress.

Anyway. He puts it probably better than I can.
I don't understand the notion of retirement. Getting older is the beginning of a whole different delicious pleasure.

Or adventure. Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. The golden years--the years of delicious pleasure. Kind of like before the kids--but aged with splendid maturity. On the road to new adventures. Don't read that "maturity" word the wrong way.

Picture courtesy of Flickr

This all brings to mind the poem I read some years back (and ended up purchasing the book back when I was in my early thirties), by Jenny Joseph. Warning: When I Am Old I Shall Wear Purple. I have always loved that poem.

Warning: When I Am Old I Shall Wear Purple

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people's gardens
and learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Purchase the book at:

So, I'm practicing now because, goodness, I wouldn't want to shock anyone. My kids already know I'm out there. So, midlife crisis, here I am. We need new definitions for "retirement," "golden years," and "midlife crisis." The purple years, maybe?

Courtesy of Flickr

We're finishing up one year and moving into a new one. Start fresh.

Help me here. What would you call it?


Monday, December 15, 2008

The Messenger Now Available! (Contemporary Gay Erotic Romance)

Just in time for the holidays my latest release is now available from Loose Id.

Title: The Messenger
Author: Adrianna Dane
Publisher: Loose Id
ISBN: 978-1-59632-808-2
Purchase Link: http://www.loose-id.com/detail.aspx?ID=824
Author Website: http://www.adriannadane.com
Genres: Gay Erotic Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Length: Novella


Dillon Lloyd has had the hots for his attractive neighbor, Vance Keith, for quite some time. He's spent many nights in voyeuristic pleasure while the gorgeous man next door has sex with his current male lover in varied and delicious ways. Even so, Dillon has never entertained the idea of actually asking Vance out on a date. For one thing, Vance is a client of Dillon's delivery business. And business and pleasure should never mix.

All that changes when a package -- a gift that Vance had sent to his most recent lover -- turns up undeliverable. Dillon takes a chance and decides to return the package to Vance himself in hopes that maybe a miracle of the season will happen for him.

When Vance and Dillon meet in person the sparks ignite. And when Vance invites Dillon into his apartment on this icy winter night, though the weather outside is frightful, the heat between them is more than delightful. Their blistering passion sets a torch to the holiday festivities offering a bounty of unexpected gifts.

But things in Vance's past jealously battle for his future happiness and won't stop at murder to win.


He nodded toward the window. "I live over there. See that window? That’s my apartment."

"You mean, right across from my place?"

Dillon held his breath as he turned to look at Vance. They stood so close, shoulders brushing. He could swear he felt the man’s intense heat through the barrier of their clothes. Would he understand what Dillon was trying to tell him? Would he realize the curtains on Dillon’s windows were wide open. Just like in his apartment. And that he could see in quite clearly?

And if he did realize, would he throw Dillon out of his apartment without a second thought?

"You knew. You saw us."

Dillon couldn’t detect anger in his voice. There was surprise, maybe curiosity.

"Yes. You’re both very attractive." He swallowed hard. "Very…passionate." He looked straight into Vance’s eyes. "I’ll admit I was envious."

"You aren’t involved in a relationship?"

Vance didn’t move away, didn’t step back. In fact, it seemed to Dillon that in some infinitesimal way they came closer together. And yet, he doubted that either of them had moved an inch. The temperature in the room suddenly jacked up to sweltering.

"No. I’m not. There hasn’t been time. I’ve been too busy building my business. Felice keeps telling me I need a man in my life."


"My day dispatcher. She’s been with me since we opened our doors. She gets a little familiar sometimes. And pushy."

"Longtime employees do tend to get that family edge, don’t they?"

"Yeah, I guess so. She tells me I need a keeper." Dillon’s attention fastened on Vance’s mouth. So very tempting. He wanted to feel Vance’s lips against his own. To taste him. Would he taste like brandy? Like the hot blaze of the fire in the fireplace?

"You liked watching us." It wasn’t a question. Vance’s eyes seemed to dilate and turn darker, like the sky just after sundown. His voice deepened.

"Yeah, I did."

Slowly, Vance turned to look out the window and Dillon studied his attractive profile. Shadowed jaw this late in the day, hollowed cheeks, patrician nose, deep-set eyes. Not perfect, not airbrushed, but quite striking.

"Did you jerk off?" The question caught Dillon by surprise. Maybe it shouldn’t have, but it did.

"I…" Did he dare tell him the truth? "Yeah, I did." He felt the heat flare into his face.

"I wish I’d known you were there…watching us."

"I’m sorry."

Vance looked at him. Still, no anger, but Dillon did sense lust. "I’m not heart-whole, Dillon. I find you very…desirable tonight, but I haven’t forgotten Jake. I’m not sure I could give you what you’re looking for."

"I don’t know what I’m looking for myself. But I had to come here, you know? I had to meet you…to see…" His voice trailed off. Just one kiss. Just one, just to taste him. It didn’t have to be forever. But the yearning had been building for so very long. He had to quench the need.

Without a second thought he leaned forward, cupped Vance’s head, and pressed his lips to the object of his affection. Vance didn’t pull away and Dillon deepened the kiss. Tasted the brandy and coffee, and warmth and intimacy. A tinge of hesitation, a huge helping of lust.

Read another excerpt: http://www.adriannadane.com/themessenger.html

"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"

Monday, December 08, 2008

What Do You Think?

Currently, I'm reading "The Power of the Dark Side" by Pamela Jaye Smith. I've just come across this:

"Science now proves a common observation: females choose to sex-mate with rugged alpha males and to home-make with softer, nurturing males."

What do you think about that statement?

Or, how about this?

"...studies show married men are healthier and happier than single men. It's the opposite for women."


I'm not saying they're true statements, just curious what you think. Any thoughts?


Sunday, November 23, 2008

Day 2 of Orycon30

Lesson One. Being overly-self-confident about not making wrong turns, leads to a wrong turn the next day. Sheesh. But at least it was corrected quickly.

Lesson Two. Beware of a woman's adrenalin rush. It far outlasts a man's. Be afraid, be very afraid. But then I think I knew this. Always good to be reminded of things we instinctively understand.

About to begin Day 3 of Orycon30. Definitely tired, yesterday was a long day.

Began Saturday, after that wrong turn, with a roundtable discussion on Mermaids and Sirens and Other Attractive Nuances. The discussion was led by Felicity Shoulders. An interesting discussion surrounding the theories of ocean myths, but also touched on River dolphins of the Amazons. A couple of book recommendations included Merman's Children by Paul Anderson and a book by Angela Carter, I believe is titled "Ash Puddle." I need to check more closely on the second book. Anyway, some interesting discussion

After perusing the dealer's room and the art show (where there was some wonderful art) and after spending money on fun and interesting things, I attended another roundtable discussion led by Leah Cutter and Mark Ferrari. Some interesting backgrounds on mythology and fairytales and delving in their tie-in for creating worlds and civilizations.

Then on to Metallurgy in Fantasy and Science Fiction which turned to a more technical discussion by Guy Letourneau, surrounding metals and colors of heat and atoms and hardness, and toughness... And I better refer to my notes. The hour went fast. And my brain was quickly turning to mush by this point. But definitely lots of good info.

The last two panels of the day, for me, were led by Rory Miller and dealt with fighting. I had heard Rory speak a bit last year and I knew these would be great panels. Lots of very useful information and pages of notes. Rory has written one non-fiction book on the subject--Meditations on Violence: A Comparison of Martial Arts Training & Real World Violence and that's on my to-buy list. Even in writing romance, one must be able to write realistic action scenes that are not take from other fiction, or television. These last two panels were very good. "Use of Force Policy: a civilian and writer's guide" and "Violence: How it feels, smells, tastes, looks and sounds like." Some good stuff.

As I said, it was along day, but well worth my time.

Today, I'll begin my day--after a gallon of coffee--with wounding, torture, and maiming characters. Working on Zytarri 2, definitely going to get some good stuff to think about. Should be interesting.

Did I mention I had a new release come out this weekend? Hot Male was released from Amber Allure. No, no violence. But yes, to some sexy gay males and a bit of scifi/futuristic going on.

Gotta run. More later.


Saturday, November 22, 2008

A Weekend of SciFi and Fantasy

This weekend I'm attending Orycon30 in Portland, Washington. I even talked my son into attending this year. He loves reading scifi and fantasy and he enjoys writing. Having attended last year for the first time, I'm pleased to say I didn't take any wrong turns in arriving at the Waterfront Marriott Hotel. But that's because I cheated and attended last year at the same hotel.

The theme at this year's Orycon is "Days of Futures Past. The Writer Guest of Honor this year is Harry Turtledove, who is particularly recognized for his works in alternate history. He has been credited for bringing the alternate history genre into the mainstream.

I enjoy attending scifi and fantasy conventions in one respect because it is outside my usual realm of writing, which is romance, and more particularly erotic romance. The panels will often provide me with a fresh perspective and viewpoints from authors who do not write within my specific genre. I am particularly interested because I touch on these areas within the genre of romance and I want to be as true to the mix of genres as I can be.

Some good stuff at Orycon30 this year. I started out with "Spaceships, Colonists, and Castaways: How Small Communities Function. The panelists included Bart Kemper, G. David Nordley, Tom Whitmore, and Harold Gross.

Of interest were chains of command and accidental grouping. The right leader of a starship might in some cases not be the correct leader on that downed starship on a planet. And also the differences in command from castaways to colonists, from a small town to a military base. An interesting discussion.

My next panel, and one I was very interested in attending because it bears directly on several stories I'm plotting right now, was "Bashing Your Way Through Fights. This panel included Jayel Gibson, Barb Hendee, Bart Kemper, J.C. Kendee, Mike Shepherd-Moscoe, and Rory Miller.

Quite interesting on the differences of male and female fighting techniques. What I particularly liked about this panel were that on some points the panelists did not agree, offering some differing perspectives. One of the great things about panels. Should the battle itself be quick, written in short sentences, short paragraphs, or should the scene be varied, depending on the weight of the conflict to the plot. They discussed the problems of stereotyping, archtypes, and genderizing. And the need for individuation. The differences between dual vs. a bar fight vs. small combat v s. full-blown battle. What does a fiction reader from the conflict when they read good fiction. Weight of drama and entertainment and story to the reality of violence. It was noted that the average confrontation takes less than fifteen seconds.

Other panels I attended on Friday were "Twisting History" and "Mythic Imagery in Speculative Fiction. Defining mything can always be an interesting topic.

A couple of books that I've added to my list are:

Writing the Other by Cynthia Ward and Nisi Shawl. Dealing writing cultural and ethnic differences which sounds like an interesting book.

Space Magic By David Levine, including the short story co-written with Sara Mueller, Falling Off the Unicorn.

So, as I'm writing this blog this morning, I'm holding my grandson in one arm and typing with the other. He's more awake with this visit and we're discussing alternate history, unicorns, and myths. Getting ready soon for Day 2.


Friday, October 24, 2008

A New Contract, A Stunning Cover

A while back I signed a new contract with Loose Id for a gay contemporary erotic romance. I just received the cover for this story and I wanted to share it--it's gorgeous.

The short blurb: A package delivery, not meant for either, drives two passionate strangers together during the holidays. One's past could lead to the other's demise. This winter love affair could turn deadly.

My thanks to Marci Gass, the cover artist, for a stunning cover.

I really enjoyed writing The Messenger and I love the holidays, especially that first winter snow in December which is magical. And gifts? They come in all shapes and sizes, don't they?

But this delivery is a little different. And the messenger? Well, I guess you'll just have to wait and see.

"The Messenger" coming this winter from Loose Id.


Saturday, October 04, 2008

New Erotic Titles Available - Amazon Kindle

Amazon and Mobi continue to add to the Kindle library of titles. Currently, there are twenty-one of my stories available in Kindle format. The newest ones added to the list are as follows:

She answered his primal call and has never regretted it. But Rachel knows there is more to Julian Donata than he has revealed. His gift this time is a potion made to unleash her power. Tonight the primal desire at the heart of her dominant lover will again be unleashed.

Genres: Dark Fantasy/Paranormal/BDSM (light)/Witchcraft/Magic

Read an excerpt of Primal Magic: Scent.

Purchase the Kindle version at Amazon.

Don't have a Kindle? Purchase this title in html, pdf, lit, Mobi, or rb format at Amber Heat.

Visit Esmerelda. Elizabeth Anthony, a hot-house flower, the pampered daughter of a powerful man. Isandro Santario, a secretive ex-con with a powerful desire for revenge. One from hell, the other from heaven. Can they discover paradise together? Or will they both end up burning in the smoky depths of purgatory?

Genres: Contemporary/Exhibitionism/Public Places

Read an excerpt of Ruthless Acts.

Purchase the Kindle version at Amazon.

Don't have a Kindle? Purchase this title in html, pdf, lit, Mobi, or rb format at Amber Heat.

Sexy rock star Luke Cantrell has everything going for him. He parties hard and has no shortage of bed partners. Except he can't have the one thing he truly wants. The bad boy of Texas and the golden-haired son of an affluent rancher. Friends for life, but Luke always yearned for more than friendship. Will the truth destroy their relationship or will it give them both something they passionately desire but were afraid to reveal? Will Sully understand if Luke finally tells him the truth? Or will Luke lose his friendship forever? It's a gamble he finally has to take.

Genres: Gay /Contemporary/Cowboys/Western (Modern Day)/The Arts/BDSM (Light)/Exhibitionism/Public Places

Read an excerpt of Sully's Heart.

Purchase the Kindle version at Amazon.

Don't have a Kindle? Purchase this title in html, pdf, lit, Mobi, or rb format at Amber Heat.

Ex-Tribunal Enforcer Daelyn Kapri hides a terrible secret. If discovered, it could destroy her chances at a new life. Alekos Andromeda is the only one who knows the truth. When Daelyn is called to save him, will it culminate in a love that was always destined to redeem them both?

Genres: Science Fiction/Futuristic/Exhibitionism/Public Places/Series

Read an excerpt of Ravager's Redemption.

Purchase the Kindle version at Amazon.

Don't have a Kindle? Purchase this title in html, pdf, lit, Mobi, or rb foramt at Amber Heat.

Purchase the Argadian Heart Trilogy in paperback from Amazon.

His sudden, unexpected arrival, after all these years, drenched her in all the hot, forbidden memories of a relationship forged on an island paradise, and branded into the fabric of her soul. The memory of two men, different as night and day, to whom she was bound forever in both body and soul. Yet only one of them had claimed her young heart as well. The wild island lover of her youth had changed. Had he at last come for her? Or for something else? Something she'd kept safe, as well as secret for ten long years.

Genres: Contemporary/Exhibitionism/Public Places

Read an excerpt of A Summer Place.

Purchase the Kindle version at Amazon.

Don't have a Kindle? Purchase this title in html, pdf, lit, Mobi, or rb format at Amber Heat.

A sensual tale of seductive shifters, good vs. evil, and dark, enchanted lust vs. a unique, pure and passionate love in the magical world of Vallariana. Managing to free herself from a brutal captor, Martine, a swanshifter, escapes through the swan arch landing in the enchanted world of Vallariana A tale of shifters engaged in a passionate battle for love.

Genres: Fantasy/Shapeshifter/Witchcraft/Magic/BDSM/Exhibitionism/Public Places/Voyeurism/Ménage (M/M/F)/Bisexual (M/M)

Read an excerpt of Primal Magic: Swan's Lake.

Purchase the Kindle version at Amazon.

Don't have a Kindle? Purchase this title in html, pdf, lit, Mobi, or rb format at Amber Heat.

The Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl. The Isle of Man, a mystical place where passion among men is the rule. Linus Masterson has left the isolated, mystical Isle of Men to return to mainland life because of love lost. Can paradise lost be rediscovered in a most unlikely place?

Genres: Gay/Fantasy/Exhibitionism/Public Places/Series

Read an excerpt of The Exile: A Seductive Tale.

Purchase the Kindle version at Amazon.

Don't have a Kindle? Purchase this title in html, pdf, lit, Mobi, or rb format at Amber Allure.

Find out about my other titles by visiting www.adriannadane.com. A broad range of titles from contemporary to science fiction and fantasy, crossing boundaries of erotic romance.

Passionate stories with adventurous heart

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Backyard Bunnies

So I stepped outside this morning to let my dog out. Mikala wasn't much in the mood at just that point to go out. She's older and kind of finicky. And usually, it's right when I'm in the middle of writing a really intense scene she decides then it's time to go out.

Anyway, I stood on the back step waiting for her to make up her mind when I spotted the bunny in the backyard--I mean right in the backyard almost next to the house. "Camera! Quick!" Any of my friends will tell you I usually have camera in hand, so I knew it wasn't far away. But rabbits aren't always in the mood to hang around and wait for the moment. You know what I mean?

So closing the door as quietly as I could, I ran back into the house, praying that my batteries were still good because I doubted I'd have time to change them. Yup, batteries working. First, I took a picture through the window, because who knew what would happen once the bunny heard the door squeak when I opened it? Holding my breath, and camera ready, then I carefully opened the door and stood on the step. I prayed Mikala wouldn't decide just at that moment to send off a round of barking and dash past me out the door. Phew! I was in luck. I guess she wasn't awake either.

So I focused the camera (thank goodness for zoom) and started clicking away. God, I love digital.

Surprisingly, the bunny was apparently feeling quite photogenic this morning and stayed in place for much longer than I expected as I tried to inch closer and closer. You know the dance--step-focus-snap-step-focus-snap. That one. I was surprised it was being so congenial and friendly this morning.

My dog, on the other hand, took off in the opposite direction, completely ignoring the rabbit. Good for me and good for the bunny.

So, good morning to Mr. Rabbit who stopped in to munch and chat for a bit. It was a nice start to the day. And now I need some coffee.

Considering I'm leaving for the Faerieworlds Festival tomorrow, I guess it's time for the woodland creatures to come out to play.

I do love inspiration that comes in all its forms.


Saturday, July 26, 2008

New Release - The Horsemasters: Riding Lessons

Title: The Horsemasters: Riding Lessons
Author: Adrianna Dane
Purchase Link: http://amberquill.com/AmberHeat/Horsemasters1RidingLessons.html
Author URL: http://www.adriannadane.com
Publisher: Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat
ISBN: 978-1-60272-31-6
Cover Art by Trace Edward Zaber


Gossips say Miguel d'Loganno is a sex master of the highest caliber. Melanie Anne Grayson is desperate for his services. To hire him to train her horse, Merciless, that is. The horse trainer is attractive, commanding, and delicious. So is his strong, silent companion, Ricardo Santofoya. Their unorthodox training methods, both for horse and owner, have the horse set lining up to engage their talents. Can Melanie submit to the Horsemaster in order to obtain his services for her steed? A lusty, blistering interview with these sexy horse trainers has her panting to learn more about their unique training methods.

Read an excerpt at: http://www.adriannadane.com/ridinglessons.html

"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Romance and NASCAR Racing

My daughter and SIL, and my MIL are really into racing. My MIL sent me the link to this article this morning that links up NASCAR driver Carl Edward and Harlequin to a very romantic proposal. I so love a good romantic story. I wanted to share.

Romantic Proposal and NASCAR Driver, Edwards.



Friday, May 16, 2008

Primal Magic: Swan's Lake - Podcast of First Chapter Available

Conventions kept me dizzy over the last month or so and I didn't get a chance to post any new podcast excerpts lately. But this week I'm back in business. Today I posted a first chapter excerpt podcast of Primal Magic: Swan's Lake.

Primal Magic: Swan's Lake by Adrianna Dane

Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/SwansLake.html


A sensual tale of seductive shifters, good vs. evil, and dark, enchanted lust vs. a unique, pure and passionate love in the magical world of Vallariana. Managing to free herself from a brutal captor, Martine, a swanshifter, escapes through the swan arch landing in the enchanted world of Vallariana.

Podcast link: http://adriannadane.podomatic.com/entry/2008-05-16T07_56_15-07_00

If you'd like to read a short excerpt from Swan's Lake, here's a link for that, too: http://www.adriannadane.com/swanslake.html

The cool thing about this podcast is that it is available to download to iTunes. :-)

Photo of swan taken by LadyB

Enjoy your weekend!


"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Perspective in Editing

I'm reading a book on craft right now titled "The Artful Edit" by Susan Bell. (Thanks to my friend, Lacey Savage, for the gift of this book.) It's an interesting read and offers some good food for thought. In particular, in Chapter One, there's a subsection titled "The Hang-Up or Lay-Out." Utilizing this technique in the editing process can be very visual and enlightening. Consider this partial definition for "perspective."

Perspective: the interrelation in which a subject or its parts are mentally viewed, b. the capacity to view things in their true relations or relative importance. --Webster's

Bell suggests stringing a line and clipping each page of the chapter to the clothesline to gain a visual perspective and cadence to the written word. Somehow you see the writing differently, say, long and short paragraphs, and the balance of text. Visually, does something not look quite right? Maybe it just looks out of whack. It also suggests that some people lay their pages out on the floor rather than hanging them up.

I guess I found this interesting because I have a novel right now which has moved into the never-ending edit realm. I was really dissatisfied with the first chapter, but I couldn't quite lay my finger on the exact problem.

Finally, one day, I printed out two copies of Chapter One. The first I set aside to keep as a road map to my original destination. The second one I cut up like paperdolls. I cut each paragraph of the chapter out, page by page, and then I played around with the wording. I have several white boards here that I picked up from Home Depot rather inexpensively and upended one of them. Well, actually two of them. I then grabbed some tape and started storyboarding my chapter project. I cut, I added, I switched around. I made notes. Somehow I did come up with a better feel for the chapter. Then I taped all the little pieces to blank white sheets of paper in the order I wanted them. Once I had them all aligned, I went back to the second printed out copy and numbered the paragraphs and then returned to the computer to edit my chapter. Well, actually, I think I sort of numbered them as I was going along, but I tried to make a more legible copy. I might add that during the course of this editing process several pages were removed from the chapter. A few bits and pieces added.

It sounds like a long, drawn out process, but I felt the chapter and the story benefited from the task. It's the first time I did something like that, but not the only one. And I know it's a process I'll use again. It's amazing where frustration can lead you.

So, lining pages up on a clothesline really wouldn't be a far stretch for me. It's certainly something I'd be inclined to try.

Are there any out-of-the-ordinary editing rituals you have?


Monday, May 12, 2008

New Paperback Anthology - Tapestry of Desire

I'm really excited about the scheduled release in May for my latest collection of erotic romance. Preorder now at Amazon.com. I love the cover for this newest collection, which was created by Trace Edward Zaber.

Here's a little about Tapestry of Desire:

Searing desire and passionate devotion, captivating stories as varied and seductive as the land itself. From the mountains of the West to the shores of the East. From the Civil War to the new military, or in your own neighborhood. Tapestry of Desire is a rich and vibrant collection of erotic stories steeped in sensuality. A mountain climber, a hockey player, an ex-Civil War soldier, a contemporary Army captain, and never forget the boy who lives right next door. Each man will fight to claim his woman, each woman driven to possess the heart and passion of her man.

Included in this collection of stories by Adrianna Dane:

Jebediah's Promise. Captain Jebediah Holliday made a promise to his wife--one he's determined to keep. A hero's face comes in many guises.

Breathless Peaks. A mountain, a rugged man, and a powerful passion that would demand her personal best before allowing her to ascend to the summit of desire.

The Boy Next Door. Two houses side by side, one filled with hate, the other with love. He'd come back for the love. Would hate be all that remained?

Therapy. Rick's idea of seductive therapy to assist his lover in overcoming her memories of a previous love affair gone terribly wrong, might be exactly what Chris needs.

The Diary of Lillian Manchester: The Stranger. A man scarred by his past...a woman of fiery passion and spirit...and a secret mission that could kill them both...

Read the reviews for these stories at my website.


Saturday, May 10, 2008

Be Careful Where You Attach It

So, what did you think I was talking about? The subject today is anklets and which ankle you should be wearing that little bracelet on.

When I was writing my story, Achilles' Charm, I did a little bit of research about anklets. There are some days when I think I sit with my head in the sand. Everyday you get a new education about something. Who knew that wearing an anklet on the left ankle could mean you're a swinger? Not me, that's for sure. But you probably knew that, didn't you? Which just proves my point--I'm utterly clueless sometimes.

Ever heard the term "hot wife?" It was a new term to me. Apparently it means a wife who likes to swing, who has a husband who agrees to remain monogomous while she does it. Well, that isn't what Achilles' Charm is about. My hero in this story is quite monogomous and so is the woman he loves. He simply has this fetish about the curve of a woman's ankle. And he's really, really entranced by our heroine.

But anyway, be careful which ankle you adorn with that anklet.

And did you know they actually make these things with special charms that are recognized by the swinging community? Really, I'm not kidding.

It never ceases to amaze me about the tidbits of information I discover when researching an erotic story. All I was looking for was a little bit of additional history so I could write this blog about ankle bracelets.

I happen to be left-handed, so I tend to go for my left ankle when I put on an anklet. Well, not anymore, thank you very much.

I don't think I'll ever look at an ankle bracelet in quite the same way again. "Hot wife." That's a new one on me.

Don't believe me? Just google "hot wife anklet." You'll get an education.

Research can certainly have you ending up with quite a bit more information that you were looking for and sending you flying along some new tangent of thought.

Anyway, no swingers in Achilles' Charm. It's purely, hot erotic romance focusing on the relationship between one man and one woman.

And by the way, Achilles' Charm is now available in Kindle format at Amazon.com. Just in case you might like to check it out.


Friday, May 09, 2008

Web 2.0 and Hub Pages

I'm learning...really I am. A bit here and a bit there and I inch my way along. So now we're into Web 2.0, social networking, social bookmarking, and hub pages.

Okay, so as those who know me understand, I'm always adventuring out and trying something new. I'm doing the social networking thing. I'm making trailers and podcasts. I do a monthly newsletter. I post excerpts. Oh yes...and I write stories. :) Please don't take this list as order of importance. Last is ALWAYS best and most important. ;)

So what's the latest?

Hub pages. Hub pages are supposed to be about useful, informative articles. There are some sites where you can make a little money with affiliate links such as Google, Ebay, and Amazon. And it can introduce you to a whole new audience in a non-intrusive, non-promotional fashion. This is not in-your-face marketing. It's softer, gentler marketing. :)

So, anyway, I figured I could do this. I'm sure I have articles hanging around on my computer...or in my head. So I figured I might as well put them to good use. I may be a little slow, but here I go again.

Hub pages are all about information and unique content. Instructional pieces about many and varied topics of interest. Lots and lots of content. Well, I have lots to talk about. If only I could adapt that same theory to blogging. But I'm trying. Some of us are slower at spreading our wings than others.

Anyway, here's the link to my hubpages profile in case you'd like to find out a little bit more about it. http://hubpages.com/profile/Theresa+Gallup. Who's Theresa? She's the real-world me, if you didn't already know that. She's the mom, the wife, the crafty person, the daughter, the sister,the traveler, the researcher--the one whose learned lots of things along the way and is ready to share them and maybe introduce people to her muse, fey side in the process.

Want to know a little more about hub pages? Check out this link (but watch out for the pop-up ad). I have a pop-up blocker so the ad didn't come up for me. Anyway, here's the link for a little more information about hub pages and their place in Web 2.0: http://web-social-marketing.com/hub-pages.html

And by the way, I just created my first informative article yesterday and I already have a fan. Is that cool or what?


Tuesday, May 06, 2008

A Visit to Pittsburgh

In April, I had the opportunity to visit Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Attending the Romantic Times Convention, which takes place in a different city each year, provides me the opportunity to explore new territories. One of the places I visited in Pittsburgh was the First Presbyterian Church located at 320 Sixth Avenue in Pittsburgh.

It was a bit surprising to us to discover this church which is located on a busy street in the midst of towering, modern office buildings. It was like discovering a treasure in the least likely place. But should it really be such a surprise when adventuring along the streets of these cities? Which is part of the fun of taking a city street map and just venturing out and stumbling upon these beautiful surprises.

My friend, Debbie, and I were sort of exploring the downtown area. We did manage to find Macy's and Lord & Taylor, but used restraint when we stumbled upon the shopping area, and our time was limited. Some of the architecture and sculptures were very interesting, and I do love taking photographs. Thank goodness for digital.

The formation of this church dates back to 1758 when the British defeated the French. That defeat took place very close to where our hotel, the Pittsburgh Hilton, is located. As a matter of fact, Caitlyn Willows and I visited the spot where the three rivers (the Allegheny, Monongahela, and Ohio) converge. Oh yes, and there's a bit of a story here, too.

We discovered that quite a bit of downtown Pittsburgh is currently under construction, including the site where these rivers meet and the fountain at Point State Park was not actually working. We were sort of told that one couldn't walk to that area because of the construction. Yeah. Right. They didn't realize they were talking to a couple of authors who don't always handle the "you can't do it" phrase well.

I digress. Back to the church.

Apparently, the 2.5 acres upon which this church was built was originally used as an Indian burial ground. The grounds were used primarily for burial purposes going forward into the 1800's. When the second church was built many of the burials were exhumed and placed into crypts which were constructed for that purpose beneath the church.

The church grounds are currently under renovation and due to the fact that we were there on a weekday and it was late in the day as well, we didn't have an opportunity to go inside the church. Apparently, tours are scheduled after services on Sundays and can also be arranged by calling ahead.

I keep thinking about those underground crypts and Indian burial grounds and I'm thinking there's a story or two building here.

All in all, Pittsburgh was a very interesting city to visit and I came away from my trip with more than a couple of story ideas that will develop along the way. I'm glad I carry my notebook with me, too.

Links of interest regarding the church:

http://www.fpcp.org/ (for the history of the church)
http://www.flickr.com/adriannadane (more photos of the church and Pittsburgh)


Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Esmerelda's Lovers Merits 4 Stars from RT!

I love small towns. I grew up in one and I live in one now. Not the same one, by the way. I enjoy writing about them. Esmerelda's Lovers is an erotic romance anthology with all of the stories centering around the residents of the fictional small town of Esmerelda, Massachusetts.

Janean Sparks, a reviewer for RT BOOKcub Reviews gives Esmerelda's Lovers four stars and has this to say about this erotic anthology:

Dane gives us four wonderful tales of love and romance. The characters are real and captivating, and there are plenty of spicy scenes that will have your mouth watering. You will get so wrapped up in each of these stories that everything else will just fade away.

Find the review in the May 2008 issue of Romantic Times BOOKreviews or by visiting the Romantic Times website.

A little about Esmerelda's Lovers.

Esmerelda, a small, sleepy town with passion as its foundation. It is a community built on tradition, holding deep, secrets and painful memories for some. Lives intertwine as usually happens in a small town. But as the past explodes into the present, the futures of these lovers will alter forever.

Esmerelda's Secret. A 2004 Amber Heat Wave Contest Winner John William (J.W.) Dalton and Willow MacKenzie had once been passionate lovers, two halves of one soul, torn apart by greed and misunderstanding. Now, ten years later, J.W. is sheriff and Willow has returned to Esmerelda to finally lay to rest the tormenting ghosts that continue to haunt her.

5 Stars! ...Ms. Dane has written a hot, hot short story...Her words make every touch and breath blazing... -- Julie, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Smooth Finish. Back in high school Cody Marx and Jared Creed had been attracted to each other. But when Jared's father died and his half-brother, Kenny, got into trouble, they drifted apart. Years later, a remodeling project draws them together once again. This is one revitalization Cody can't wait to begin.

4 Angels!! Smooth Finish is a great book that has everything you need for a great bedtime story. There is plenty of sexual tension, adventure, and mystery. ... Author Adrianna Dane always creates such appealing books that it makes me eager to immerse myself in her worlds again and again... --Tammy, Fallen Angel Reviews

Ruthless Acts. Elizabeth Anthony, a hot-house flower, the pampered daughter of a powerful man. Isandro Santario, a secretive ex-con with a powerful desire for revenge. One from hell, the other from heaven. Can they discover paradise together? Or will they both end up burning in the smoky depths of purgatory?

5 Lips!! Adrianna Dane has penned an erotic and emotionally intense story that draws you in immediately and doesn't let go until the very last page. ... Ruthless Acts is a definite must-read that'll engage your senses and leave you breathless for more... --Kerin, TwoLips Reviews

Closing Time. Risking her reputation, Evelyn travels to Boston for a little taboo excitement. From the hot encounter behind the stage with the sexy guitar player, to a steamy confrontation in the back room of the Esmerelda library, Evie must face her fears and risk everything for a chance at love.

4 Hearts!! ...Closing Time is a story about taking risks. ... Ms. Dane really touched this reviewer with this plot ... Closing Time is also about sex! Ms. Dane creates some steamy scenes that will leave you breathless and craving more. ... --Tina, Love Romances and More

Read excerpts from each of these stories at my website

Listen to first chapter excerpts in podcast format at Podomatic.com.

Purchase Esmerelda's Lovers online at amazon.com.


Friday, February 15, 2008

Podcast Excerpt for The Lion and the Rose Now Available

Title: The Lion and the Rose
Author: Adrianna Dane
Purchase Link: http://amberquill.com/AmberHeat/LionRose.html
Author URL: http://www.adriannadane.com
Publisher: Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat
ISBN: 978-1-60272-132-6
Publisher URL: http://www.amberheat.com
Cover Art by Trace Edward Zaber

Man or beast? Mikelas, half man, half beast, caught between worlds, needs his bride desperately. As tradition demanded, he invoked the magic of the ancient marriage coin, but his Midas mate didn't answer and without her he is doomed to revert to his animal form forever. At one minute to the stroke of forever, a new scrying is performed and Rosemarie Edwards receives a very special gift meant only for a woman of Midas blood.

Rosemarie doesn't believe in fairytale love--she doesn't have faith in humanity at all. Certainly not with the memories of her tragic past shrouding her from any hope of future happiness. But an attractive messenger with an intriguing gold rose and a special invitation will send her on a savagely sensual journey that will change her life from a black-and-white existence filled with painful reminders to the full Technicolor of devastating desire.

One night of sizzling animal passion in what she thinks is a dream, leaves her with a throbbing, visible reminder of the claim of her dominant mate. How did it happen and why does she respond so intensely to the scent of the golden rose? Only by accepting the mysterious invitation to Midian will she find the answers she needs and maybe discover that there can be a happily ever after.

Listen to the first chapter of this story at: http://adriannadane.podomatic.com/entry/2008-02-15T08_30_45-08_00


The door to the room burst open and a tall, attractive man stalked in.

“Tira,” he growled.

If Tira’s face could have glowed any brighter, it did at that moment. She jumped to her feet, not even bothering to cover her bared breasts.

“Lyon,” she breathed, as he reached her, pulling her into his arms and planting a searing kiss on her lips. Tira wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and plastered herself to his body.

Rosemarie had no idea what to do. Should she leave? Slowly she began to inch away, planning to make her way to the door.

Finally, they broke the kiss, but Lyon’s hot gaze never left Tira. Tira looked at Rosemarie and smiled.

“My husband has been away on business for a few days. I wanted to remain behind in case you arrived earlier than expected.” She turned to look up at him, and stroked a hand along his firm jaw. He returned the gesture by cupping her marked breast, a measure of possession in the touch.

He turned to look at Rosemarie. “She is the one for Mikelas?”

“Yes, Lyon. But she’s only just arrived. I believe she thinks we are all a little nuts.”


“Crazy,” she translated. “Rosemarie, Sophie will show you to your room. Why don’t you rest for a bit and we’ll talk later.

Lyon was slowly dragging her toward the door. Rosemarie could only watch them in awe as they almost moved as one through the doorway. As they passed through, she heard something tear.

“Lyon, stop that.”

“I can’t wait,” Rosemarie heard the deep-throated response. Then there was more tearing.

“Oh, God,” she heard Tira scream.

Quietly she tiptoed out of the room. She’d never been a witness to such blatant sexuality. She found bits of white silk scattered all along the floor leading to the stairs. She caught a quick glance as Lyon rounded the bend at the top of the stairs; Tira was naked, obviously riding his cock as he headed toward a room down the corridor.

She heard the bang of a door and then a loud feminine peal of pleasure. Her own pussy leaked her juices in answer to the earthy scene she had just witnessed.

A woman dressed in a black and white maid’s uniform appeared and picked up the scattered remnants of Tira’s dress. She approached Rosemarie, having gathered all the pieces, and smiled serenely.

“I’m Sophie, Ms. Edwards. I’ll show you to your room. My sister, Martha, will bring along some tea for you in just a bit. I expect you’re hungry after your long trip. If you’ll just come with me.”

Rosemarie was stunned, but she followed Sophie up the wide staircase. At the top, they headed in the opposite direction from which Lyon and Tira had gone. As they reached Rosemarie’s room, she heard another ear-splitting primal scream echo through the corridor.

But what she really wanted to know was, who was Mikelas? And what did he have to do with her?


Like to know more about Princess Tira of Midian and her Lyon?
Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/MidasBride.html

Another excerpt from The Lion and the Rose: http://www.adriannadane.com/lionandtherose.html

An excerpt from The Midas Bride: http://www.adriannadane.com/midasbride.html

Photos used in this blog entry courtesy of stockvault.net.
Cover art by Trace Edward Zaber.
All Rights Reserved to the respective parties.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Mariposa Soul Receives Glowing Review (review & M/M excerpt)

A new review for Mariposa Soul...

..I found Mariposa Soul to be a unique story about a man who had difficulties facing the truth about his sexuality... Adrianna Dane did a fantastic job of showcasing Andre's struggles, heartache and denials as he tried to come to terms with his feelings for Simon... Their love scenes were sweetly tender, and their encounters were sensual and very passionate. Thank you, Ms. Dane for such a beautifully written gripping story... --Nikita Steele, JoyfullyReviewed.com

Review link: http://www.joyfullyreviewed.com/reviews/Feb08/MariposaSoul.AD.html

Mariposa Soul by Adrianna Dane
Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat
Genre: Contemporary Gay Erotic Romance
Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/MariposaSoul.com
ISBN: 1-59279-619-2
Author website: www.adriannadane.com
Cover Art by Trace Edward Zaber

Also available in the paperback anthology, Carnal Carnivale, now available at Amazon.com.


Andre spends his time globetrotting around the world and flitting from bed to bed, never tempted to stay in any of them. Always searching for that soul his would recognize as the one he couldn't live without. A chance encounter teaches him something about himself he would never have expected.


Grabbing a vacant stool at the bar, he ordered a neat scotch. As he downed his first swallow, someone sat down on the stool beside him. He glanced up and swallowed hard. It wasn't possible.

The man who'd sat down next to him turned and smiled. Small lines of maturity crinkled near his eyes and Andre was held fascinated by the depth of those deep blue mirrors.

"Simon Doran," he said as he held out a hand.

Andre nodded and extended his own hand, noting the firm, callused grip. "Andre Cordaire. Yes, I know who you are. I sat in on your discussion this morning. Great job."

"Thanks. I don't do as many as I used to, but this one sounded challenging and I liked the combination of panelists they had lined up. Glad you got something out of it."

Andre took another swallow of his scotch. This was more than he could have hoped for—to actually hold a conversation with Simon Doran. Once Simon's drink arrived, as Andre watched he took a long swallow and leaned back with a sigh.

"Yeah, I needed that. Conferences are thirsty work."

Andre chuckled. "Yeah, I guess they are."

"Are you staying here at the hotel?" Simon's gaze studied Andre. He recognized that look—it probed for a way to get inside his head, to find out what made him tick. He met the look, guessing it would challenge Simon to dig past it.

Simon leaned back against the stool, visibly relaxing, and grinned. Andre felt an unfamiliar heat dig inside him at that look of acceptance. What surprised him was that Simon looked as magnetic and attractive in person as he did on television or in photographs he'd seen of him.

"I know your name. You've done some great investigative pieces recently, if I remember correctly."

Andre nodded. "Thanks. Yes. I have to say, I've followed your career pretty closely and it's an honor to finally meet you in person."

Simon chuckled. "Don't tell me you became a journalist because of me. You'll make me feel a whole lot older than I want to."

It was Andre's turn to grin. "Wouldn't think of it. I will say you inspired me in the right direction. I've always written, but you got me on the road to investigative reporting—and I have to thank you for that."

Simon nodded. "I'll accept the compliment as graciously as I can. You've obviously got the talent for what you do, at least as far as I've seen, so if I helped you find the path, that's great."

He turned his head and surveyed the nearly empty bar. "Let's find a table, get more comfortable, and compare war stories. I've got an urge to kick back a little. Do you have the time, or maybe you've got someplace you need to be?"

Andre shook his head. "No, sounds like a plan to me. I've got some free time and I'd enjoy a chance to talk with you."

They left the stools, drinks in hand and sauntered over to a vacant table.

Andre never made it to the dinner, and instead they shared a plate of chicken wings and potato skins, and another round of drinks. They had more in common than Andre ever could have expected and their conversation went on well into the night. It was the wee hours of morning before they looked up and realized how much time had passed.

"Wow," Andre remarked as he rose from the table. "I can't believe how the time has flown. I'm sorry I kept you so long."

Simon shook his head. "Hey, I enjoyed it. But it is getting late and I need to get some sleep. I'm planning to hike up the mountain tomorrow and need at least a few hours of rest."
They walked toward the front door of the hotel and through the glass doors. Andre turned to Simon and held out his hand. "I enjoyed the conversation and the panel discussion. I hope we'll have a chance to meet again."

Simon reached out and engulf his hand in a firm grip, held it for long moments, staring into Andre's eyes.

Andre felt a warmth pervade his bones and dig deep inside. He felt regret at the parting, feeling there was something more to be shared with this man. There was something about him that he didn't want to let go. For a few short hours, the loneliness that had always been a part of him had faded away.

"You live in town?" Simon finally asked as he released his grip.

"Yes, not too far from here as a matter of fact."

The doorman waved a taxi forward.

"Care to share a cab? I have an apartment in town as well."

Andre nodded and followed Simon into the taxi, and gave his directions to the cabbie, then settled back.

Andre could felt the hard heat of Simon's firm thigh almost touch him, hips close, his warmth and vibrancy reaching toward him. In a sense it made him uncomfortable that he was responding to him in much the same way he would to an attractive woman. Except it was more—something deeper inside him, something far stronger.

He looked at Simon's hand lying at rest on his thigh. He wore a gold ring with a black onyx stone. He remembered the firm grip when they shook hands. He found himself wondering how he used them to make love to a woman. Was he as smooth and in his element in bed as he obviously was when reporting? And for some reason his balls tightened at the thought of discovering how the hard touch of a man was different from the softness of a woman.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the foreign erotic thoughts running through hismind, and turned to look out the window at the passing buildings, noting the streets were beginning to fill as people rose to begin a new day. He'd never thought of himself in those terms before, not ever. So why now?

He must be tired, and then there were all those scotches he hadn't noticed himself downing as they talked through the night. That must be it.

The taxi pulled up in front of his building. He opened the door, then felt Simon's firm grip on his arm. He turned to look inquiringly.

"I mentioned I'm going hiking...well, later today. I know it's short notice, but if you don't have anything better to do, maybe you'd like to join me?"

Read another excerpt at: http://www.adriannadane.com/mariposasoul.html

Listen to a podcast of the first chapter at: http://adriannadane.podomatic.com/entry/2007-12-28T08_49_04-08_00

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

The Magic of Being

One of my first tasks this morning was to answer several interview questions that had been sent to me and then I took some time to read an article on writing (what a surprise) and I found it interesting that a certain theme seemed to develop. The topic being the magic of life and creativity.

I have a friend who tells me she has no imagination. My mother tells me she doesn't dream. I don't believe that's true for either my friend or my mother. Answering the questions and reading the article reminded me that we are all born with magic but for many of us, somewhere along the line it's bleached out of our psyches as the world tries to civilize us. In learning responsibility and manners, right from wrong, good from bad, the magic we are born with is suffocated, its light snuffed from existence as an undesirable quality, and there are some of us who don't know how to revive it and flounder through life thinking Peter Pan is really just a rebellious, naughty boy who refused to become an adult. I think he might not have been so concerned about growing up if he could have kept his magic. He fought for what was important and in doing so paid a price. Adulthood.

We forget to nurture the very essence of our souls in search of acceptance, the ability to blend in and not stand out. We look for the nod from mom and dad that assures us we are growing into adulthood and will make a fine asset to the community. But what happened to the magic?

Do you ever hear the statement made about someone who has reached maturity. "Oh, she is so senile..." Would that be a true statement or has that person simply reclaimed her magic? I have to wonder.

There's a poem I'm particularly fond of called "Warning" by Jenny Joseph. It's included in a collection of poetry and essays about women in their later years.

"When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter...


"But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple..."

[An excerpt from "Warning" by Jenny Joseph, from the collection "When I am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple" (ISBN: 0-918949-16-5)]

I bought this book back in 1991, my twins were eleven and my daughter was thirteen. I decided not to wait. Through all my travels and moves across the country, it's a book I always kept close. The title has become a theme through my life, except I changed it a bit, I shortened it.

I shall wear purple...now, dammit! :-)

What a sad thing it can be if we wait too long to revive the magic we lost as a child.

Reclaim it now. It really is okay to keep that spirit of youth and imagination. Don't let it die.


Sunday, January 27, 2008

Vampyre Falls: Morganna's Sacrifice - NOW AVAILABLE

Title: Vampyre Falls: Morganna’s Sacrifice
Author: Adrianna Dane
Purchase Link: http://amberquill.com/AmberHeat/MorgannasSacrifice.html
Author URL: http://www.adriannadane.com
Publisher: Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat
ISBN: 978-1-60272-197-5
Publisher URL: http://www.amberheat.com
Cover Art by Trace Edward Zaber

Morganna Starlight, a faery doctor, and Keelan Moonhunter, a dark elf, were once passionate lovers separated by a goblin’s hatred and betrayal. That same hatred reunites them through another savage act, but there are painful memories that still haunt them both. One being that Keelan is now an elven vampire. Will Morganna sacrifice everything she has ever known to remain with her dark lover? Or will Keelan’s torturous past separate them forever?


She’d gathered the stones earlier in the day. After carefully washing and oiling them with fragrant rosemary, she had placed them in a ring, end to end. She collected the forgotten limbs and discarded, vibrant orange and red leaves to build the fire from only those broad, sturdy oaks and tender, lean ash beneath which they had made searing love in times now past. Ah, the memory of his hands on her body beneath the starry silent nights still made her tingle. She could feel his long, tapered fingers as they traced arcs of infinity over her abdomen. She remembered how warm they felt when he cupped her breasts, the pads of his fingers brushing across her erect nipples driving her to peak after peak of passion, leaving his stamp upon her senses deeply embedded forever.

With the gnawing ache twisting inside, she now approached the ring of stones, the sun a descending vibrant red disc in the sky. She waved her hand beseechingly, chanted secret words of potent desire, and flame burst free from the heart of the circle. The heat of the crimson fire blanketed her with its fever as she called upon the elements of her remembered love to draw the recollected passion of images intimately around her. Tightly gripping the elongated silky smooth, gentian stone pendant—etched with his elven glyphs—she slipped to the ground, summoning his memory to bare itself to her.

Morganna downed the contents of the vial, licking the last drops from her lips, and felt the liquid slide down her throat, as she embraced the searing heat, feeling it spread through her.

“Keelan, come to me. Come to me. Come to me.” She waited, heard the crackle and snap of the hot fire. The pendant grew warm against her flesh and began to pulse, to become a living thing within the cup of her hand.
“Keelan, come to me. Come to me. Come to me.” She waited, heard the crackle and snap of the hot fire. The pendant grew warm against her flesh and began to pulse, to become a living thing within the cup of her hand.

“Yes. To me. To me. To me.”

“I am here, Morganna.”

Her eyes snapped open and she sighed as she saw him standing on the other side of the fire. Her beloved dark elf. The firelight undulated across his naked body, drenching him in flickering heat that pulled her to him. The fiery passion licked at her bare skin as she approached, at first with hesitant steps. And then her gaze dipped to follow the shadowy, wavering light embracing the blue stone pendant nestled against the golden sheen of his strong chest. She remembered how, when she lifted up on tiptoe, her head had once fit so perfectly in that very spot. How she would lick and kiss her way across the breadth to suck at his nipples, and slowly make her way down his body. He was sleek, yet tall for a dark elf, dwarfing her with his height. So unique even among his own kind.

She raced toward him and he caught and lifted her against his heart, his mouth blazing a fiery trail across her skin. Oh, how she had missed him.

She traced the crest of his pointed ear, then licked at the tender flesh. He shuddered beneath her touch. It was the same delicious response her mouth had always elicited from her lover. His hand brushed along her spine, cupped her rounded buttocks as he lifted her higher. She wound her legs around his waist and his stiff cock pressed between her lips, nudging at her wet entrance.

She skimmed her hands along his sharply defined, muscled arms, stroked his long, silky raven-black hair, drawing forth every inch of him, pulling deep from inside herself. She so wanted to savor this moment in his arms.

Winding her arms around his neck, she pressed against his warm, solid body. This time, she would not let him go. He dropped to his knees and she felt the heat of the red fire curled against them, roaring with life. Reaching down she embraced his thick shaft, remembering the breadth and measure of the elven tool and how it fit within her channel so snugly. So perfect.

“Put me inside you, Morganna.”

At her peripheral the scene started to waver and shimmer and a fist clutched at her heart. No. Not yet.

Read another excerpt from Morganna's Sacrifice at: http://www.adriannadane.com/morgannassacrifice.html

Find out more about Vampyre Falls at: http://www.vampyrefalls.com