Adrianna's Random Thoughts

Winter 2012 in Washington and Environment in Story

2012-01-18T08:50:00.001-08:00

Yup, it's winter in Washington. And I'm not talking rain. Honestly, it's up to my kneecaps out there now. These are a couple of pictures I took this morning.

I checked my picture folder and the last one I have labeled for snowfall in Washington is 2008. Luckily, I went grocery shopping just a couple days ago, I have all my techie stuff on chargers just in case. And I've backed up my working folder onto my Seagate in case I end up needing to work from my netbook, which has about a 6-8-hour battery life. Oil lamps in place, batteries newly purchased. Think we'll be fine. Snow is still falling, Marley does not want to go out as the snow is over her head, so here we are tucked away inside. Thought I'd do a blog now, just in case reception gets a little funky later.

The forecast is that it's supposed to taper off later, so we'll see. Snow doesn't often last a really long time, usually turns to rain, but that's when it can get a little tricky. I like the snow, not so much on the icy stuff. Makes me glad that these days I work at home. A real good day to hunker down and just get to the writing. Though I just got in a story to edit last night, so may pick that up today and get to the editing.

The other thing I like to do on "special" days like this is go outside and take pictures. Or just stand outside and experience the weather. It comes in handy when it comes time to write about weather, and the look of things, the feel, the smell. Remember it, use it, draw out the environment in story.

Not too long ago I wrote a fairytale-based story, "Poppy Rider and the Glass Shards," which tales place in Washington and then mostly near the North Pole and really cold weather.

Lou opened up the reddish binoculars and gazed off into the distance. As he studied the landscape, he adjusted the sliding brass scale. Poppy saw three beams of red light emit from the instrument and as she watched and Lou adjusted, the beams intersected to form one straight line. He then locked the reading into place.
"Ah, now we have it." He looked at the reading. "The location of the Fantasmic Corridor is always shifting. In this part of the world hardly anything ever stays the same." He held up the instrument. "This is a fantasnigator and helps to fix the current position of the corridor. Now we can be off."
He put the fantasnigator away and then, pressing a button, he started the motor. He expertly steered out into the waters, passing through channels littered with bits of ice looking like jagged shards of white gleaming glass. Poppy leaned over the side to scoop up one of the pieces that looked slightly different from the rest. It appeared to be an actual piece of looking glass.
"This isn't ice, is it?" she asked, holding it up for Lou to see. He slowed the boat, quickly glanced down at the shard in her hand, then out at the sea of pieces scattered across the surging dark blue water. He idled the boat and then donned a pair of round red-colored spectacles and studied the sharp piece more closely.
"Just what I thought," Lou said. "This one is a piece from the goblin's broken mirror. Dangerous and you shouldn't be handling it."
"You mean that magic mirror that Moira told us about?" Poppy asked.
"Yes. Good thing you have your gloves on. If it had cut you, we might have been in for a whole other set of problems." Lou reached beneath the seat and pulled out what looked like a green fishing tackle box. He opened it and tossed the piece inside. "Don't want anyone else coming into contact with it. Then he took off his glasses and turned his attention back to steering the boat out across the water.
The air was brisk, but probably not close to being as cold as it would have been had they tried this in the middle of winter. And, of course, the drug apparently helped with their body temperature.
It was an eerie feeling as they glided through the still waters, the ghostly presence of icy glaciers surrounding them. Lou said they were headed to a place called Snowy Inlet. From there they would trek across the ice to the location of the Fantasmic Corridor.
Poppy saw a white bird soaring overhead, wings outstretched, and she surmised most of the animals blended in almost seamlessly with the arctic environment.
Lou docked the boat and they got out. Poppy had thought there was a barrenness to the environment before--but here it was a stark isolation that went far beyond anything she knew. The land was so vast--open and big and pristine. Beautiful and yet frighteningly desolate.
"Here, take these," Lou said. He handed each of them a set of lightweight black goggles with red eyeglass, similar to what a swimmer might wear. "Put them on when I tell you. It's the only way you'll be able to navigate the Corridor, both going in and coming out.
Thirty minutes later, goggles in place, Poppy was shocked when she suddenly saw a kaleidoscope of colors erupt in front of her eyes. If felt like she was wearing a pair of those strange sixties psychedelic spectacles, except there was only one area where the odd aurora borealis-like imagery appeared. If she looked in other directions she saw white ice and blue sky and water.
"This is weird," Gray said.
Poppy peered down the strange Corridor of undulating lights. She finally realized that there were several entry points along the corridor and each was a different color, yet distinctly at odds from the undulating lights in the sky.
"Do you see them?" Lou asked.
"You mean the portals?" Poppy said.
"Yes, that's it."
"But which one do we go through? And more importantly how do we get back?"
"The goggles will help you to identify the correct gateway in order to return. Once on the other side, walk toward the sun and eventually a guide will meet up with you and escort you to the palace. The passageway you're looking for is sky blue. Just remember that. The other portals will take you to other realms and you don't want to go there. There are different rules to each realm. And it gets very complicated."
"This is just so strange," Poppy said. "I never would have guessed."
Lou turned and smiled at her. "You aren't supposed to guess. That's the whole point. Let's get your gear out of the boat and then you'll be on your way."
It took them the better part of another hour to get things organized and the small lightweight sled repacked. Will donned the harness for the first leg of the trip.
"Looks like you're all set," Lou said.
"How will we get back to you?" Poppy felt panic begin to set in. Lou put an arm around her and hugged her.
"You'll be fine. I'll know when you return. It's my job to know the comings and goings of the Corridor."
Lou hugged and kissed each of them before sending them on their way.
"Thank you for everything, Lou," Poppy said. Somehow within the last twenty-four hours Lou had become an integral part of her family and she hated the thought of leaving him behind.
He grinned. "My part is finished and yours is beginning. But I think it's me who should be thanking you. You're marvelous, Poppy. I'll miss you." His look took them all in. "I'll miss all of you." There was a twinkle in his eye that had Poppy blushing. Well, she had to admit her time in Griesefiord had been quite a rare and pleasant interlude.
Poppy, Will, and Gray headed toward the blue portal that wavered as though caught in a breeze that didn't seem to originate in this world.
"Well, I guess this is it," Poppy said. She took a deep breath and then stepped toward the blue gateway.
"No," Will said as he grabbed her arm and stopped her from being the first to pass through the portal. "I'll go first."
"It doesn't matter," Poppy said.
"It does to me." And then he moved ahead, dragging the sleigh behind him before she could argue further. He disappeared from view and for a moment Poppy panicked as she lost sight of him.
She quickly followed, and Gray brought up the rear. They found themselves in what looked like a long icy tube, the floor slick as ice. Pressure seemed to suck at Poppy, making it difficult for her to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. Gray squeezed up next to her and grabbed her arm, guiding her forward. It was with a sense of relief that they finally reached the end of the tube and found themselves in a place vastly different and yet eerily the same as the world they had just left.
Once settled into this other icy realm, they removed the special goggles and replaced them with regular snow goggles. The first thing that struck Poppy was the stillness. A complete and utter silence. And then she turned her attention to the sky. Dark swirling clouds shot through with streaks of gold and red. The colors merged and separated, every now and then offering a glimpse of the fierce, almost blinding glow of an odd undulating orange sun.
"Well, I guess we go this way," Gray said as he shaded his eyes and looked up at the sky. "The sooner we're on our way, the faster we finish up and get back."

Weather and how we portray it in our stories is integral, whether it's dry and hot, moist and steamy, cold and wet. The environment must play into a story, into the character's actions, into their physical comfort or discomfort. Into their heightened senses and awareness. How does their body react to the environment? If they are a species other than human what effect does weather have on them? Or does it not affect them at all? Shock and anger, passion and depression, can all play a part on how the environment affects us--our mind and body often responding in unexpected ways. Each person may respond differently. Our body temperatures are not all the same. Just because we're human doesn't mean all respond the same to a given environment. Who is your character? Does she run around in winter without a coat on, like a friend of mine does? Does his temperature tend to run abnormally high? Also, keep in mind that at different times of the day, the weather affects us differently.

In winter, when I walk Marley at say 5 a.m., it's not all that cold, and the sky can be so clear and endless. Two hours later it's like the temperature has dropped significantly. It's freezing. It always feels odd to me how it does that.

When it's snowing I often feel like the noises and sounds tend to be muffled, softer. There's a quietness to the environment, it smells clean and brisk and inviting. It's energizing. But what about later in January when there's dirty snow and bits of ragged ice. There's a different sort of atmosphere.

Never ignore the environment. Make it come alive, weave it carefully and thoughtfully into the story to envelope the characters, and make the atmosphere come alive for readers as well.

Predators and Inspiration [Explicit Content]

2012-01-10T08:21:00.000-08:00

You never know when, how, or where inspiration will strike. Amazingly, the inspiration for "Manimal Attraction," started early one morning around 7 a.m. when my husband called me to the kitchen window. "Bring your camera. Quick!" Who knew?

The image is fuzzy, and he was across the yard, but he looked pretty big, and sometimes common sense kicks in--I wasn't going outside. But the zoom picked up pretty well--enough to inspire a story which morphed into "Manimal Attraction." My thought was that he might be a hybrid. But with me have absolutely no experience with this predatory population, I wasn't certain. Looking back now, especially after having visited "Wolf Haven," the sanctuary that's nearby, the head does looked pretty coyote-ish. But he was not small. There's a wildlife sanctuary behind our house and the information says there's at least one coyote that we apparently have as a neighbor. I did call to report the sighting. Never did get a call back. Oh well, everybody's busy.

Anyway, back to the writing of "Manimal Attraction."

My first draft started out something like this:

It was by accident I saw him that morning. Big. Gray. Powerfully-built. His thick silvery coat gleamed in the early dawn light. He lifted his head to scent the air. Ears tipped forward, alert to the presence of any danger. Powerful shoulders and haunches. It appeared as if he thought all of the world belong to him–very much an alpha male secure in his dominion.

And that's what I saw outside my window. And I called it, "The Wolf." First drafts are after all, just first drafts. It morphed, of course, and things changed as I started to get into the story and the "what-ifs" and scenarios that writers tend to consider. And my muse had her say. The first lines of the story ended up starting:

“She’s the third one,” Sheriff Taggart Este said as he squatted down to catch an identifiable scent, his coyote shifter instincts fully engaged. It was there, just like with the others, but subtle and slightly elusive.

Yup, Taggart ended up being coyote, not wolf, and not a most loyal species perhaps by any means, nor is Taggart particularly trusting. But Taggart is extremely loyal to at least one other resident of Rapture Bay. That person is the mayor, and he's a wolf shifter by the name of Lash MacKenzie.

And the other complication. Abigail Pembroke was back in town to deal with her grandmother’s death. Abby—Lash’s former lover—descendent of the third Harmony—Lucinda. A woman Lash had not forgotten. Nor had Tag. Nor could they ever. She was a Harmony and now that the elders were dead it would be up to Lash, Tag, and Abby to take their place. Whether Abby wanted to or not.

Trust me, Abby doesn't want to return to Rapture Bay. But trouble's come to town, and on the winds of a series of murders, Abigail Pembroke returns to town. Abby, who hurt Lash deeply when she left. Coyote's don't forgive easily.

Abby could feel him close by. Not just him, the other one was near as well. But it was he who came first, he she was grounded to before the other.

Distance may have diminished the connection, but now that she's back, he's something she's going to have to contend with, and it's not going to be easy, because they're the last Harmonies left, and no one else has a hope of helping the residents of Rapture Bay.

Remember that line in the first draft? Yes, it made it's way into the final story, but you won't find it on the first page.

Morning came all too soon. Coffee. God, did Abby need a full pot of it right now just to get her going. And then she made the mistake of looking out the kitchen window.

He was standing there—truly a primal statement. And he was making it to her. She trembled, almost dropping the coffee mug as she stared at Lash, unable to take her eyes off him. How close she had come to shifting last night. Not that she’d ever allowed herself to shift before, she’d always fought the most elemental—that most innate call of her blood.

Big. Gray. Powerfully-built. A breeze ruffled the thick, gleaming silvery coat in the early dawn light. He lifted his head to scent the air. Ears pricked forward, alert to the presence of any danger. Powerful shoulders and haunches. His stature said the world belonged to him—very much an alpha male secure in his dominion.

Except he was in Abby’s backyard.

But it means more now. Now, we know who, and what he is, and we are connected to him.

But what about Taggart? How's he going to handle all this? His first loyalty appears to be to Lash--but what will he do to protect him? How far will he go? In this scene, he's all coyote predator.

Tag circled his desk and walked to Abby. He sensed her fear, her desire to retreat. He admired the fact that she stood her ground and faced him down. He purposefully stepped into her space. She stepped back. Something dark and dangerous reared its head inside him and he found himself herding her back to the wall.

Sexual heat surged through him. He knew Lash needed her—they both did in order to secure the barrier. But there was more to it than that. He yanked the handcuffs from his belt. Before she knew what hit her, he had her cuffed to the rack where his hat rested above, right next to his coat.

“Tag, what are you doing? Let me go.”

He drew closer, inhaled her scent.

“Did you fuck Brice just to irritate Lash?”

“Damn you, no. It was only lunch. He invited me.”

He slowly began to undo the buttons of her blouse and revealed the soft skin beneath. “Did he,” Tag murmured, his full attention on the pretty, soft skin he was revealing. “I wonder what he has in mind? Do you like him better than Lash? Maybe it’s not that you like him, but that he’s safer. Is that it? Did he convince you to go upstairs with him? Did he spread you out on one of those beds and eat you for dessert?”

He pulled out his jackknife and cut the fragile material of her bra, baring her breasts. He heard her inhale sharply. It wasn’t fear, it was desire, and the scent of it permeated the room.

He watched her breasts rise and fall with each deep breath. Dusky nipples puckered, so dark against her honeyed skin. He looked into her eyes. She looked at him, no fear evidenced in the wide stare she gave him. He fitted his hands to her narrow waist.

He dropped to his knees and as he leaned in he moved his hands to the hem of her skirt, slowly lifting it until he revealed her panty-covered pussy. He inhaled loudly, taking in her scent.

Things are definitely heating up in Rapture Bay, all because of one glimpse of a dangerous predator out my kitchen window.

Immortal Love and Mortal Humans

2012-01-07T06:47:00.001-08:00

Currently reading the book, "Vampires" by Joules Taylor, and came across this like that got me to thinking.:

"The love of a vampire goes on forever, but the life of a human being is all too short."

I thought of the "Highlander" movie with Christopher Lambert and how Connor lost his loves through the ages due to human mortality. How do you address mortality in stories of the paranormal and supernatural?

I looked back at my story, "Body Parts," which deals with a Frankensteinian theme of a man, Athan, created by a couple who are scientists, Cornelius and Sheba Ransom. Thus the relationship is even more complex because this couple are not only his makers, but his lovers and his mentors. Athan refers to them like this:

“The Ransoms? They were my makers. They were my lovers. They were my family. All that I am is because of them.”

Sheba and Cornelius are mortal and through Sheba's journal we see the progression of their lives, the fragility of their mortality as Athan remains unchanged. Here's a passage from Sheba's journal regarding her concerns for her husband and for Athan.

"I am so very tired. Athan tries to bear the brunt of the responsibility on his shoulders, but there is only so much even he can do. Cornelius listens to no one.

I feel his mind has gone but there is no way to have him institutionalized. Even for the ramblings of a crazy man, someone might believe his words and seek to discover the truth. I cannot allow that to happen.

It is midnight once again and I cannot sleep for the decisions I have had to make. It tears my heart out but we have come to the end. I must do it for his own protection. I never would have thought it would come to this, but there is no other choice.

I can no longer remember my life before Cornelius, before the time I became his assistant. I cannot imagine my life if something were to happen to him. I could not go on. Not without him. I must see to his safety and that no more harm can be done, not only to him but by him.

Athan is for the most part self-sufficient and can take care of himself as long as he remains on the estate. I have taken care of matters so that he will be well cared for no matter what happens to us. Since his creation he has never left the grounds, except to go to the town. The outside world would never understand him and I fear would treat him ill. He must be protected at all costs. I do not wish to see him harmed. Because of this I will take steps to be certain our research will never come to light.

Two hours ago, he came to me and we discussed what must happen in order to protect Cornelius and our life here. Athan has taken it upon himself to prepare apartments in the west tower. He is seeing to the installation of the locks on the doors and the windows. There is no other way. I can’t stand the thought of it, but there truly is no other way to protect Cornelius from himself. Oh, God, how has it come down to this?

In youth we do not foresee the end. We think we shall continue forever. As Athan will do. He is the perfect embodiment of all we hold precious--youth, freedom from disease, and immortality. In Athan we have created perfection.

He came to me tonight and we spoke of what needs to be done both to contain Cornelius and to secure the estate. All through dinner we listened to the rantings of my husband, knowing we must bide our time for the moment. Tonight he is again to meet with the body thief to procure another corpse for his twisted deeds.

I sometimes wonder if it is Cornelius who has changed, or is it me? Is it that Athan fills all the void places inside me and I have no wish to delve further? Have I become too content with what we have achieved in Athan?

Sheba's responsibilities, her goal to tie up loose ends, weighs heavily on her shoulders. Her needs and her relationship to Athan have altered over the years from that of creator/nurturer to dependent/nurturee. And what of Athan? Can he understand human emotion? Korrie, a young research who has come to the Ransom estates to study their extensive library as that very questiom

“Do you know what love is, Athan? Outside of the primality of your instinctual drive for sexual intimacy? Do you understand that Sheba loved you? Have you ever loved anyone?”

He dropped his head forward and she couldn’t see his expression. He was quiet for a long time. Then he looked at her, and she saw the flashing emotion in his eyes. “I looked it up once. In the dictionary. I have felt protective of Dr. Sheba and Dr. Cornelius. I know I would have given my life to save them. I have felt lust for the lovers who have come to me for satisfaction. I have been grateful to the ones who have allowed me to expend. I have felt sadness at the deaths of those I have cared for.” There was a question in his eyes when he looked at her. “I don’t know if this is love or not. It seems sometimes to be such a fleeting, fragile emotion, elusive to me in some way. I don’t know if I can use just one word to describe my emotions for the people who have passed through this immortal existence of mine.”

“God, Athan, every time I’m near you, when you speak to me, when I listen to your words, I feel like I ‑‑” How did she tell him she fell deeper in love with him each time she was in his presence? He was the most fascinating and sensitive person she had ever met in her life.

“What, Korrie? You feel what?” He leaned across the small, circular mosaic table and pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t a demanding kiss; it was soft and seductive. His large, warm hand cupped her jaw, a finger stroking along the lines of her chin. She was hypnotized by the odd lightning of his expressive eyes. “When I am with you, so deep inside you, I feel the frantic beating of your heart. I think this connection I have with you is something so special, so unique. It is a feeling, a peace, I have never known before.”
“I feel it, too, Athan,” she whispered. "

Korrie is young, another researcher who has come into Athan's life. She is mortal, just like Dr. Sheba, and he starts to fall in love with her. He understands the mortal frailty of humans, he understands that he has become something of a caregiver, a sentinel. Dare he love too deeply? His relationship with Korrie is different from what he had experienced with the Ransoms. He has learned to have a care for humans and unlike Frankenstein's monster he does possess a moral compass.

In Sheba's last days Athan cared for her fragile body with tenderness and compassion, even as he dealt with Cornelius's lost of clarity and fractured mind. Sheba's entry in her diary speaks of her relationship with Athan, an immortal created through science and alchemy whom she is emotionally attached to and dependent on. Though advanced in age at this point, Athan still makes her feel cherished and loved.

"They still come to Athan in the garden. I seem to live vicariously through them now when I watch the heat of their passion beneath my window. Particularly on those nights when he has just been infused by the electrophasm treatments and the electrical impulses surge through him deliciously. I remembered well the stunning shocks of ecstasy as we made love.

This body and heart can no longer stand up to that much voltage and so I am a voyeur now, and I remember how it once felt to have him inside me that deeply and to feel the jolts as he spent into my womb. I long for those days when he made me feel as immortal as he.

Yet he has not forsaken me entirely ‑‑ he will not allow it. And he still looks at me with love in his expression. Just last night, before he left for his laboratory to induce the electrophasm treatment, he came to me.

Without a word, but the look of determination in his eyes.

“Tonight,” he said, as he lifted me from my chair and carried me to the bed, “I will be inside you.”

I shivered with anticipation as he peeled back the layers of my nightgown. For this night I don’t feel the frailty of my body as Athan looks at me with passion and love. I allow him to do as he will, to again make me feel like a desirable woman in his arms.

“You are beautiful to me, Dr. Sheba. Never doubt your importance to me.”

I felt his hot, moist lips on my body and the flutter of passion blossomed inside me. Frail I may be, but the desire has not lessened. He took his time as though learning my body for the very first time, just as we had learned each other so many years ago. I twined my fingers into the locks of his thick, resilient hair. God, he was beautiful and would always remain so.

He reached for a bottle in the drawer of the nightstand and I smelled the scent of the special lavender oil he had created in the lab.

I flew above myself as he applied it liberally to my pussy and I felt his thick fingers press inside me. My beautiful Athan.

The scent of the lilacs reminded me of the garden and if I closed my eyes I could feel my youth and the moist earth beneath me as Athan entered me slowly.

He took a chance by allowing himself to bleed out the electrical energy and coming to me at his lowest ebb, but before he applied his treatment. He did this for me, so there could be no chance of a stray surge stopping this frail heart of mine."

And after Sheba's death he spends many year alone without the anchor of love and guidance, until another scientist walks into his life. Korrie, who is very different from Sheba. Korrie is drawn to the Ransom estate through the passionate entries in Sheba's journal.

Again, Athan will be presented with human mortality. Dare he take the risk of loving another human?

As a writer, how do you deal with mortality in your paranormal and supernatural stories? As a reader, what do you like to see when it comes to the human condition versus immortal quotient? Handling the mortality issues can give a whole other layer and character dimension to story in my opinion. There is a very fragile balance whether it's a vampire, a faerie, a superhero, or some other larger than life creature. When dealing with humans it involves many complications and complexities, a possible heartbreak. Bringing someone "over" should never be an easy decision or a simple journey. Like any birth, death, and rebirth, there is pain and refashioning attached to the evolution of humanity.

Mechanical Hearts & Fairytales

2011-12-26T08:36:00.000-08:00

This morning I'm enjoying some strawberries and homemade whipped cream. Yum. For some reason it had me thinking about fairy tales.

I love writing fairy tales. I love the concepts involved in steampunk stories. And I love melding the two into storytelling. In "The Forever Heart," Valentina Peacock is a hearthealer, she is someone who is skilled at mending broken hearts. A heart, be it human or mechanical is a very fragile thing--sort of like clockwork, it takes a very steady, firm, yet delicate hand to tune such a complicated instrument. In "The Forever Heart," there is also a bit of mystery surrounding Valentina's past. There are those who fear for her, who love her enough to want to protect her from painful memories.

I like my happily ever afters, too. And "The Forever Heart" is a happily ever after fairy tale that involve the human heart and the mechanical heart. Two men, one woman, a mystery, and love and possibilities.

Valentina Peacock of the Kingdom of Hartfall is a hearthealer guilder; her lover, Flavio, is an automated man with a ruby heart. Valentina's past is lost to her and her craft of mending broken hearts and her lover at her side are all she needs or wants. Suddenly her calm, well-ordered world is shattered when Flavio brings her a summons from the heart-king--it is a royal command to attend his court. Will a journey to court bring back her memories of a passionate forgotten love? Or will it shatter her finally and forever?

Available from Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat

ISBN: 978-1-60272-641-3

An Excerpt:

“I would say you’re working at optimum levels,” she said as she slowly unwound her legs from around his body. Her bare feet met the hard, cold surface of the cobbled red slate floor of her workroom. She stepped away from him and then straightened the folds of her skirt to cover her nakedness.

Yet he was still bare, hard, rippling muscle, fashioned perfect and handsome. Not a line misplaced. His was a body that it seemed she had known forever, fashioned to conform perfectly to her. She reached up to stroke his thick, wavy hair. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, crushing a kiss to the palm.

“What is it?” she asking, sensing things were amiss. She knew there was something he had to tell her.

Releasing her hand, he walked across the room to his long, blue woolen coat that hung on the heart-shaped hook beneath the narrow window. As Valentina watched he removed a white envelope, then he turned back to her.

“From the newly crowned king,” he said as he held it out.

Something nudged at the back of her mind. She didn’t want to know the contents of the envelope. But she found herself reaching out to take it. Then she looked at Flavio.

“He means to take you from me, doesn’t he?”

He didn’t answer her, and somewhere in the vicinity of her golden heart, a sharp pain twisted and then shafted through her chest, bright and fierce as being struck by a lightning bolt. It wasn’t possible, of course. That type of pain was only a memory from when within her chest had nestled a truly human heart. It was only remembered pain of loss, not something she could truly experience with her gold heart.

Her fingers whitened as she gripped the white envelope emblazoned with the regal gold seal. She looked down at the small square of bright white etched with a bold hand.

Flavio turned his back to her and began dressing, offering her some privacy in which to peruse the missive. She wanted to have Flavio again—to forget the majestic monarch who had written the note encased inside the envelope.

Her heart ticked faster. She smoothed her fingers across the flap, then broke the seal and opened it.

Read another excerpt at my website.

Mixing It Up

2011-12-21T16:48:00.000-08:00

Recently, to help out my granddaughter to work toward her Brownie badge, I ordered several new-to-me magazines. The first one, which started to arrive last month, was "Whole Living," an interesting healthy living sort of magazine. Apparently you can find them on Twitter at @wholeliving.

So nearing the end as I browse through the issue I received today, and it being just before dinnertime after a nicely productive writing day, I'm glancing through a short article, "Character of Your Content," more or less about shaking up the brain pans. Nice to know someone agrees with sort of my thoughts on things when it comes to types of reading material and stuff to watch to keep the creative juices flowing.

Such as --

--when it comes to apps and newsletters, rather than toughing it out because you think you "should" read them, so they hang around for no good reason, or you sign up out of some sort of duty-thing, it's time to pass on it and let it go when you dread the thought having to read it. Re-energize your brain with sort of what excites it, not bores it.

--Expose yourself to new books and magazines - [and I really like this and follow it - who knew it was a really good idea in like this general sense of things? As a writer, I guess it's just something I do] - shake it up - different words and ideas get the brain moving and - and this is what I love - encourages creative thinking, Yes, thank you, ma'am. Gina Rudan, author of Practical Genius, says, "You don't know where your next project or idea will come from, and you may find it where you least expect it." You betcha!

--And when it comes to the television and DVRing - shake that prime-time rut up. Don't keep on the same hamster-wheel programming. Mix it up. Jump-start the brain, don't keep using the TV as a mindless time filler. [Personally, I don't watch a lot of regular programming, though I will say I'm enjoying "Once Upon a Time," and "Grimm." And I love "The Good Wife" -- that show just keeps getting better. I digress. I try not to be religious about it. Like last weekend I surfed around and found some cool stuff on the Discovery Channel. And believe it or not, it really was in line with a story I'd just finished writing. Now that caught my attention.]

Anyway, think I'm going to be checking out the book, "Practical Genius" by Gina Rudan.

And that article I read? It's on page 113 of "Whole Living." Did I mention this is a new-to-me magazine? Yeah, love when I feel like I'm running a little ahead of the game. That's cool.

And by the way, there's a very nice article on p. 116 entitled, "What's the Best Way to Give Criticism?" Three folks responded to that question -- A Buddhist, a Career Coach, a Writing Instructor. Interesting stuff.

Pumpkin Walnut Bread Recipe

2011-12-12T10:03:00.000-08:00

I did some baking this weekend and though I'd share the recipe for my pumpkin bread. I love my orange veggies-pumpkin, sweet potatoes, squash. I made some sweet potato soup several weeks ago that came out very good, and it's not a cream-based soup. Lots of flavor. Today I'll share the pumpkin bread recipe, perhaps you'll find it useful.

"Pumpkin, nutmeg, and walnuts combine to yield a moist, tangy and slightly sweet bread with an indescribably good flavor. Serve partnered with meats or cheese, or simply lightly buttered." I tend to leave out the walnuts. I'm fond of the buttered slice and a cup of coffee perhaps flavored with eggnog. Sitting in the dark, the house quiet, thinking about the progression of the next story I'm working on perhaps. How would my protagonist spend Christmas?

This recipe adapted from "The Cook's Encyclopedia of Bread" by Christine Ingram and Jennie Shapter.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cups pumpkin
6 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon nutmeg, grated
1/4 cup butter, melted
3 eggs, lightly beaten
3 cups white flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup walnuts chopped (optional)

1. Grease and neatly line a 8 1/2 x 4 1/2 inch loaf pan with parchment paper. Preheat the oven to 350 d F. (I don't line the pan)

2. If using fresh pumpkin (use 1 1/4 lbs. pumpkin, peel, seeded, and cut into chunks), place the pumpkin in a saucepan, add water to cover by about 2 inches, then bring to a boil. Cover, lower the heat and simmer for 20 minutes, or until the pumpkin is very tender. Drain well, then puree in a food processor or blender. Let cool.

3. Place 1 1/4 cups of the puree in a large bowl. Add the sugar, nutmet, melted butter and eggs to the puree and mix together. Sift the flour, baking powder and salt together into a large bowl and make a well in the center.

4. Add the pumpkin mixture to the center of the flour and stir until smooth. Mix in the walnuts.

5. Transfer to the prepared pan and bake for 1 hour, or until golden and starting to shrink from the sides of the pan. Turn out on to a wire rack to cool.

(If fresh pumpkin is not in season, canned pureed pumpkin in the same quanity makes a fine substitute. (I use 1 small can of Libby's pumpkin).

Christmas Eve will find baked ziti, garlic bread, merlot wine, chocolate pie with homemade whipped cream. Perhaps a bit of anisette in the coffee.

Christmas morn is when you'll find the pumpkin bread on our table, along with strawberry omelets, bacon, orange juice, cinnemon rolls, and coffee.

I hope everyone has an enjoyable holiday.

A Fertile Imagination - Creating the Midnight Pearl Brotherhood

2011-07-25T15:57:00.000-07:00

When I started writing "The Exile" series, it began with a certain premise and that was a 19th century secret society called "Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl." I "met" Alonzo, and he intrigued me. Took me a bit to get some of his secrets out. I began to write some backstory for him, and so the world building began. I felt there was so much more to tell.

The biggest problem is having an imagination that doesn't quit. So, I wrote a couple of "The Exile" stories, then created the www.midnight-pearl.com website to collect some of the shorter bits and pieces of backstory because I really liked Alonzo and the world I was creating...as backstory.

I began to play around with the hierarchies, the personalities, the men of authority, the initiates, and it just sort of gained a life of its own.

I love fantasy and I love research, and I love combining the two. We deal with real life on a day-to-day basis, we need fantasy, we need HEAs, we need freedom to let our mind explore other realities. The Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl is one such exploration into the sensual erotic world of the men who love and care for each other, challenge each other in their own way, and find a certain level of communion on the island of Mannos.

This is where it starts, we're back at the beginning - more or less. Meet Alonzo Smith, who comes to the island looking for something, finding more than he thought he would. Writing in the erotica genre is more than about the sex, this series is about how these men relate to each other, and the things they learn about themselves, and what they need from each other, from themselves. But intimacy is a huge part of the process. And they are free to explore in a fantasy environment with no limits.

Join Alonzo, and meet the men of Mannos, and experience a world far removed from civilization and societal constraints, a place with its own set of rules, its own hierarchy. It is a place fashioned of gods and of men. Forged with the fire of passionate natures.

A little about the first story in this gay erotica series...

Shy boys, well...they are members of a very select secret society after all. But now they're out and ready to play and to share their world with you.

Hot young men, in need of training, in need of loving, in need of each other. Good boys with bad boys, boys needing freedom, boys needing discipline, boys needing a fine immortal master to show them the way to have a spanking good time.

Alonzo has just arrived. He's an intelligent young man and so very eager. The captain of the ship knows how eager he is. And Squire, Alonzo's first trainer, meets him at the dock ready to take him in hand. Alonzo and his fellow newbloods are about to be challenged in a way they never have been before. Some will make it, others won't.

Fantasy Island as you've never experienced it before. Eager young men and their raging libidos, more than willing to take a chance and embrace a whole new way of life offered only to a select few--only to those of that mainland secret society, The Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl...

Welcome to Mannos...

Tales of the Midnight Pearl Brotherhood: Newblood Initiation (#1)

by Adrianna Dane

ISBN: 978-1-61124-148-8 (electronic)

Genres: Fantasy Gay Erotica

Publisher: Amber Quill Press/Amber Allure

Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/TMPB_NewbloodInitiate.html

Author Website: http://www.adriannadane.com

Midnight Pearl Website: http://www.midnight-pearl.com

Blurb:

The ancient myths of the Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl tell of an island formed from the depths of the ocean, in the midst of a sea of mystical, sapphire beauty. It is an island paradise built on love and devotion to a common belief, a society made up entirely of handsome and desirable men. And Alonzo Smith is on a journey to discover his place among them. Here begins the path to Alonzo's destiny. He enters this world as a newblood, a young man who will give his all in service to someone special. But just as Goldilocks sought the right bowl, the right chair, the perfect bed, so Alonzo is in search of the right master. And perhaps the right collar to embrace his neck. Thus, upon arrival on the island, Alonzo's sensual journey begins with service to Squire, and his introduction to the hierarchies, laws and boundaries of the Mannos Society of Men.

To purchase or to read an excerpt from this story visit the Amber Allure website.

Read another excerpt at: http://www.midnight-pearl.com/tmpb_newbloodinitiate.htm

Watch for these currently scheduled blistering hot M/M stories in this series:

Camaraderie (#2)...Alonzo becomes closer acquainted with the other initiates. An unexpected interlude of erotic passion among initiate brethren ensues... (Available - August 2011)

Trailmaster Phelix (#3)...Alonzo is presented with new challenges–a dangerous jungle and demanding service to Master Phelix... (Available - September 2011)

Primordial Impulse (#4)...Alonzo becomes acquainted with his "wild man" soul and the possibilities afforded by primordial jungle abandon... (Available - October 2011)

Public Lives, Private Pleasures Nominated for Best in Erotic Romance (Non-Traditional) - EXCERPT

2011-03-06T07:58:00.000-08:00

I was very excited to receive word yesterday from Carole at The Romance Reviews that Public Lives, Private Pleasures has been nominated for Best Book of 2010 in the category of Erotic Romance (Non-Traditional Lifestyle).

Word is that voting will end March 31st. Find out more, and read the review, at: http://www.theromancereviews.com/bookvote.php

And just to get your morning off to a steamy start here's the blurb and an excerpt from Public Lives, Private Pleasures.

CAUTION! Never underestimate the power of first-kiss attraction...leading to hot male menage, naughty voyeurism, dance-slide-and-moan choreography, spank-me sex...And the endless possibilities of a once-in-a-lifetime romance.

That didn't stop you? Okay, then. Read an excerpt from my hot contemporary gay erotic romance, "Public Lives, Private Pleasures," now available from Loose Id.

Public Lives, Private Pleasures
by Adrianna Dane

Publisher: Loose Id
ISBN: 978-1-60737-872-3
Purchase Link: http://www.loose-id.com/Public-Lives-Private-Pleasures.aspx
Author Website: http://www.adriannadane.com
Genres: Erotic Gay Contemporary Romance
Length: Short Novel

Blurb:

Forbidden desire. Sex walking and talking. Francisco "Frankie" Raphael is every secret wet dream that Adrien Langtry ever had. Yet accepting the sexy dancer's invitation could destroy not only Adrien, but Frankie as well.

Descended from an old, very influential Virginia family with conservative views, and forced to hide his gay identity, Adrien has no desire to carry on the family's political tradition. But his younger twin brother, Marsh, is the one to take up where their father, Senator Douglas Langtry, left off. And with his brother's budding political career in jeopardy, there's no room for mistakes no matter how much Adrien hates living a lie.

It's not until Adrien meets sexy Latin choreographer, Frankie Raphael, that his lethargy evaporates, and Adrien questions his personal sacrifices that now seem unacceptable. Beautiful, passionate Frankie offers Adrien a glimpse into a world he'd only ever dared experience through the safety of the lens of his camera.

Dare Adrien jeopardize Marsh's political aspirations? Will Forces beyond his control slam the door shut on a life he's only ever dreamed of? Will public lives be forever altered by the shocking revelation of their private pleasures, ultimately altering the lives of these men?

　
EXCERPT:

It was as he was washing his hands that he happened to glance up in the mirror and then stilled as a pair of blazing green eyes captured his attention. He wiped his hands on a brown paper towel, tossed it, and then turned. For the moment the bathroom was empty except for Frankie and the man with the gorgeous green eyes. And the black silver-tipped cane.

"We’ve met before," Frankie said. Yes, he was familiar, but if it hadn’t been for the cane, Frankie might not have recognized him. Long black hair that was now slightly disheveled and hanging loose about his shoulders almost hiding his face. Black mascara and liner that emphasized his eyes, pale complexion. Tonight he wasn’t wearing a conservative suit, but a pair of black jeans and black T-shirt that showcased his trim physique. The jeans outlined the thick bulge of an erection. The shirt was tight enough for Frankie to glimpse the outlined temptation of pierced nipples. God, he was even more tempting than the other night. He had to have this man. "Tad," he said.

Tad’s eyes widened. Frankie could now see the green was ringed with gold, and he stepped toward the man. "You remembered," Tad said.

Frankie smiled. He reached out a hand to trace a nipple through the fabric of the T-shirt. He gripped it with two fingers, twisted lightly, heard Tad suck in a breath. His pretty pupils dilated, almost obliterating the gold. "Yeah, I remembered." He tugged, and Tad staggered forward. "God, I love your eyes. I’m surprised to see you here. I wouldn’t have thought it was your sort of hangout."

He kneaded the nipple rhythmically, watching Tad’s expression, saw his gaze grow heavy with lust. But still he made no move.

"I-I come here now and then."

"Do you? I don’t recall seeing you here before." He released the tit and slid his hand suggestively down the front of the shirt to rest at Tad’s narrow hip. His fingers splayed at Tad’s waist, slid around to cup Tad’s sweet, tight ass, pulled forward until they were groin to groin.

"Oh, God," Tad said and released another shuddering breath. Music pulsed in the background, making Frankie’s body throb.

"Do you want me?" Frankie asked. "Because I want to fuck you. Come home with me." He led, his hand gripping Tad’s more firmly, leading into a slow grind. The cane clattered to the floor, and Frankie took Adrien’s weight easily. Feet slid across the floor, away from the cane, circling slowly, undulating to the music. Frankie felt Tad weakening, the rise in his body heat, the smell of arousal permeating the air in the bathroom, blending with his own scents. "I-I can’t."

"Do you want to, Tad?" Frankie pressed him closer, both his hands now cupping Tad’s ass. "Do you want to do it right here? Right now?"

"W-what about your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend? Oh, you mean Kurt?"

The one you were—"

Frankie peered closer at Tad. "Were you watching us, Tad? Is that it? Do you get off watching people?"

Frankie saw the red flush creep up Tad’s neck and flood his face. "You were watching us. Which would you prefer—the handjob or the blowjob? Or maybe both."

Suddenly Tad jerked back. He stumbled and righted himself, drew in deep breaths, and then turned to face Frankie once again.

"You don’t know the first fucking thing about what I want." There was so much pain attached to the words that Frankie almost winced. Pain dripping with desire.

Frankie leaned back against the sink, studying Tad. He narrowed his gaze. "Who are you, Tad? That’s not your real name, is it? What are you hiding, I wonder?" He tugged the black leather billfold out from his back pocket and pulled out a card. He replaced the wallet and then moved to Tad. First he bent down and snapped up the cane and handed it to Tad. Tad leaned heavily on the cane. Then with one hand Frankie pulled at Tad’s waistband. With his other hand he slipped the black and silver business card down the front, fitted it snugly between the moist, hot flesh of his abdomen and the rock-hard penis. Frankie took his time about fitting the card into place. He stroked a finger slowly along the veined erection, over the ridge of Tad’s glans. He smeared the liquid of preejaculate across the head before removing his hand. God, but he wanted this man so damned bad. He was a tenacious hunter, and he had the scent.

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

Across the Back Field and Perspective

2011-01-28T17:02:00.000-08:00

I have to say when it comes to writing, I'm somewhat of an adventurer. I can't help myself.

We each look out at the world and see things just a bit differently. That's why there are so many interesting ways one can approach storytelling. And the story changes, deepens, twists and turns and we interpret what our creative mind reveals to us.

My husband called me outside the other night to see the sky. There are moments that can't be put off. No matter what I was doing, it was a time to drop everything, which involved cooking dinner at the time, grab the camera and head outside. What each of us sees in that moment, be it me, my husband, my son (who is visiting us), or even our dog, Marley, is often vastly differing, even as writers approach an idea, a theme, a plot, we see things through a different lense. And, by the way, I didn't burn the dinner.

Some may see the broader picture--a panoramic landscape--and a novel will be born. Others will focus in on one object, one small glimmer of idea, one thought, that will blossom into a short story, a poem, a novella. Or maybe it will be the atmosphere--dark, light, stormy, calm--a color, a season, a time of day, a location...a memory, a mood. We all take something different away from the image of our mind's eye tempered by our individual thought processes. Maybe it's an impression, a reminder, a fear, a pleasure, a spark that infuses a creative idea.

Take time to meditate, to explore. Maybe it's not time to write the full story just at this hour, but catch the thoughts within the butterfly net, or a journal or notebook, maybe a computer program set up to capture ideas. Words that incite that feeling. Words to invoke the image. Take that picture in your mind, on the screen, on the paper, play with it, shape it and reshape it, stretch it and then stretch it again. Make it come alive in a way only you can do. Give it the flavor only you can give it. Step into your world and be prepared to absorb every corner of that world. Watch and listen and learn. For that space of time let it consume you. Don't let fear stop you from appreciating this new environment and those beings, vegetation, or other entities that populate it. This isn't the moment to think of style of writing, of publisher guidelines, of readers, of reviewers.

This is the moment to assimilate information, to allow stream of creativity to flow unbridled. This is that most exciting moment when a new world unfolds before your mind's eye--the storyteller's vision.

Perhaps your mind's eye isn't even seeing the landscape of this world that's right in front of you. Perhaps it's another place, another time, another dimension. Make what you will of it. Break down the boundaries, and let your imagination and creativity have it's way with you. There is a moment when you know you've passed that comfortable boundary, where you're in a new place and you've reached farther than before. When you might just think you're crazy, and you're absolutely certain you can't do this--you shouldn't do it. There's a tingling that starts low in your belly, an excitment tinged by fear. It slowly spreads.

That moment when you say to yourself, "I've never done this before, I can't do it. I shouldn't do it." That moment when all the rules you've learned, that have been hammered into you about the right way of doing it and the wrong way, try to force you back into conformity. And yet, in this moment, you turn your back and step into an amazing new reality. You've locked the editor away in a back room of your mind, pocketing the key until you need it. And you break free of the boundaries of constraint. This is the art of storytelling.

I must do it!

You are at that place when you've passed your safe borders, that minute when you reach for something more, outside your comfort zone, moving from shallow to deep waters. Because you're a writer and you must take that leap. This is the place of excitement, adventure of the mind, of imagination. This is where you were meant to go--as a writer, a storyteller, an artist, a photographer, an adventurer of life.

This is where you soar!

I have a habit of beginning research and discovery far ahead of the actual writing of a story. Sometimes it takes months, sometimes years for a story to achieve that certain temperature when I'll actually begin the writing. Until that moment I gather information, jot down notes about characters and story and just let things percolate. In my research for an upcoming story, I unearthed a National Geographic article titled "Kayaking the Amazon" by Piotr Chmielinski. Things to remember, not so different from writing.

"No one had done it before...Much of the area was unexplored and unmapped...We had to make a deal with the Amazon, to accept its power...We had to keep moving, to take that next step...For some it had been adventure enough...I pushed on..."

In approaching a new story idea how better or more exciting to come at it than from the mindset and perspective of an adventurer willing to risk all for a dream?

A New Year and Symbols

2011-01-04T08:55:00.002-08:00

Last year seemed to fly by and now I'm scrambling to get ready for 2011. Being very fond of Brian Froud's artwork and often using and feeling particulary connected to "The Faeries' Oracle" cards created by Brian Froud and Jessica Macbeth, for Christmas I picked up the new "Heart of Faerie Oracle" cars by Brian and Wendy Froud.

To help me become more comfortable with the cards, I starting the year out by choosing one card each day.

Today's card happened to be #61, The Temptation which refers to enticement, wise choices. To me, that sort of means stop procrastinating.

"The Heart of Faerie Oracle" books suggested choosing a second card to help establish what the temptation might be with an eye toward being able to better deal with the situation. So, the second card I chose turned out to be "The Hero," #25. Strength, courage, unconditional love.

I found this interesting as just a few days ago, I did a yearly layout from "The Faeries' Oracle." In the first or twelfth position, depending on how you call it--instinct told the pull was meant to be read backwards--I pulled #4, He of the Fiery Sword. This card refers to action, will, movement, force, fire, illuminates truth, dispels non-truth.

I'm not sure where these symbols will lead me just yet, but I'm open to the signs and trusting my instincts.

I took a moment to pull out my symbol reference, or one of them at any rate )(An illustrated Encyclopaedia of Traditional Symbols by J.C. Cooper) and found a lot of info on the symbil of the sword.

"Power; protection; authority; royalty;leadership; justice; courage; strength; masculine principle, the active force, and is phallic with the sheat as the receptive feminine. On the metaphysical level the sword is symbolic of discrimination; the penetrating power of the intellect; spiritual decision; the inviolability of the sacred. It possesses supernatural powers, either on the earth, under the earth, or under the waters and is associated with giants and supernatural beings such as the Lady of the Lake; it is also wielded by the cosmic or solar Herom, conqueror of dragons and emonic powers..."

And on New Year's Day, just across the street from the house, a young eagle granted us with his presence and so I had to look up that symbol as well.

"Solar; the symbol of all sky gods; the meridan sun; the spiritual principle; ascension; inspiration; release from bondge; victory; pride; contemplation; apotheosis; royalty; authority; strength; height; the element of air. Thought to be able to fly up to the sun and gaze unwaveringly upon it and to identify with it, the eagle represents the spiritual principle in man which is able to soar heavenwards..."

I think it's going to be an interesting year. These seem to me to be some pretty powerful symbols. Guess I better keep my eyes open and my instincts honed.

I've added a new wallpaper to my computer just to remind me of the beauty and breathtaking imagery that's all around me.

The new year has just begun and already I have an additional two new story--no make that three new story ideas percolating. Going to be a good one I think!

Hero or Villain?

2010-04-09T10:18:00.000-07:00

"Science continues to leech all the romance out of madness and suggests our fascinating character flaws are just chemical imbalances. Romeo and Juliet are no longer star-crossed lovers, they're codependent. Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights is no longer a brooding melancholic madly in love with the wrong woman, he's a depressive..." --The Power of the Dark Side by Pamela Jaye Smith

Which way would you take this? Would you try to refine the reasoning behind the actions more minutely (scientifically) if your character was a hero or a villain and how would you go about it? What would be the differences in the words that you used? How would they alter if you were describing the hero as opposed to the villain? I'm always fascinated by word use. The word "cold" could be aligned with a season, an emotion, a sensation, an evil presence, etc.

So many times I start out thinking I'm creating a villain and end up deciding he's actually the hero. I had this happen recently in a story with a character I had anticipated to be the villain. But Lel's personality is very complex. Highly intelligent, a fetishist, not quite human, obsessed with someone not quite male nor female nor... Well, it's complicated.

Labeling. I have an intense dislike for the term "labeling" as we use it in society today. Would this story be stronger if I tried to obviously label my hero with a mental disorder? Sexual disorder perhaps in that he has a taste for a certain type of...? Relationship? Does he suffer from some sort of dissociative disorder because of the nature of his upbringing? Or is he intriguingly "remote"? Or is he just a scientist who as a matter of course dissects emotions and people as a natural and expected personality trait? Would using those terms associated with mental disorders add to or take away from the "ambiance" of the story and the romantic mystery of the man? I would guess it depends on the story and on the character.

And then there's dimensionality to characters. That depth of dimensionality can make us empathize with a villain's action, as well as despise the action of a hero. Multidimensional characters are fascinating be they the good or evil.

I'm not saying one shouldn't do their research and understand the foundation of what they write as in discovering the symptoms of a disorder. But taking what we know and crafting it into passionate fictional storytelling with layered, mesmerizing characters--well, that's something else again.

The afternoon light beamed brightly through the window of Kesselbaum’s dominium. His trinex stood before him awaiting his inspection and approval. In looking at Silver, the flash of her newest modifications, Lel could not help but feel some sense of pride in ownership. And yet, there was another emotion wrapped up in his approval of her. Something he dared not name.

Villian or hero? Or perhaps a little of both?

The Frittata Recipe

2009-09-23T10:26:00.001-07:00

Okay when you've put yourself on a healthy regimen, you're always looking for new ways to make food interesting. I picked up Prevention Magazine the other day and it had a recipe for a delicious-looking Frittata, with some variations as well. Hubby has been out of town this week, so it was a good time to try out something new without poisoning a family member. :-)

I've made omelets before, but this looked a bit different and so tasty. So I made it this morning with a bit of variation of my own. Here's the recipe for anyone who might be interested.

Adrianna's Parmesan Frittata

2 eggs
1/8 to 1/4 c. grated Parmesan cheese or variation
freshly ground black pepper (to taste)
olive oil
fresh chopped onion
Italian seasoning or parsley or what pleases you, to taste, and to add some color

[Note, the recipe in the book also calls for salt, but I don't add salt to my food, so I've omitted that from this recipe. That's not really a new thing, I've never added much salt to stuff. But lots of pepper--love a spicy bite to my food. Just like my reading and writing, I guess.)

1. Heat oven to 400 degrees

2. Beat together eggs, cheese, pepper and Italian seasoning, a splash of milk (optional). I use Vanilla Almond Breeze milk alternative as it's lower in carbs.

3. Heat oil in oven-proof skillet (preferably nonstick, but I use a small iron skillet and it worked fine for me) over medium heat. Add onion and cook until just soft and lightly brown. About 5-10 minutes, depending on stove and heat level. Pour egg mixture into skillet and reduce heat to low. I found that was about eight minutes or so. Cook only until Frittata is almost done, but top remains glossy and still slightly runny.

4. Put Frittata (still in skillet) into oven. (Prevention Magazine suggests covering handle with four layers of aluminum foil, if it's not ovenproof. My iron skillet, which I picked up at Wal-Mart by the way, is ovenproof, so I didn't have to worry about that.) Bake for about six minutes or so.

5. Using potholder (thought I better say that), remove from oven and with spatula or some other flat utensil (I used a small metal cake server that I've had forever) and slide Frittata onto plate.

Oh, don't forget to turn the oven and burner off. Some of "us" can get a bit forgetful, you know. I'm just saying...

Yum. There are many variations of this. I like this recipe because it's low in carbs (eggs and cheese), uses olive oil (also healthy) and most importantly, is really, really simple to make. And delicious.

There are other variations, of course--this is my tweaked recipe based on the one in the magazine altered to suit me and my tastes. I printed another one out from the site which is a cheese and pepper Frittata. That one uses Monterey Jack cheese and bell peppers and basil. That sounds good, too.

Oh, I added a side of medium picante sauce which gave it just the right zing for my taste.

Thought I'd share.

Speaking of Inspiration and Validation

2009-07-20T08:28:00.000-07:00

The writing life can be rather isolated and it's always interesting to hear how others create. Sometimes it validates our own process--let's us know if we are crazy when we hear those voices, at least we're not alone. :-)

This morning I listened in on a Dean Koontz interview. Here's what he has to say.

Emerson and Randomness

2009-07-04T13:21:00.000-07:00

I received my copy of The Writer in the mail yesterday. There are some pretty good articles this month.

On Emerson (p.8)

"My Journals...are full of disjointed dreams, audacities, unsystematic irresponsible lampoons of systems and all manner of rambling reveries..." And as Robert D. Richardson (author of the article) goes on to say, "the aimlessness and lack of system were part of the point..."

You wouldn't believe how many notebooks I have with bits and pieces of this and that.

Snippets of dialogue... "I've been a lot of places you don't ever want to be. Done things you can't imagine." And thus Destrie speaks to me of his character and who he has become.

A Call for Change in RWA

2009-06-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

I am providing you the most current information available regarding RWAChange. I am a member in good standing of RWA and support this call for change.

Again, for more direct information on this group visit: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/RWAchange/

To receive updates on Twitter, follow: http://twitter.com/rwachange

Watch for hashtag #rwachange

All the best,

Adrianna

***Permission to Forward Granted and Encouraged***

I’m a member of the movement within RWA looking to bring change in regard to digital publishing. There are some conflicting thoughts currently being passed around considering what is being supported and what is hoped to change. A Mission Statement has been written and it has been pasted in below. It clearly states what the movement is about and what it is looking to accomplish.

--Romance Writers for Change Mission Statement--

Romance Writers for Change was formed to help educate and create awareness about digital publishing for all RWA members. We fully support and believe in the RWA organization, and hope to partner with it in a positive, constructive way. To that end, Romance Writers for Change members support the following statements:

--RWA members should be offered educational opportunities regarding all aspects of digital publishing and rights exploration/protection.

--The creation of a new Digital Liaison seat on the RWA Board of Directors is in the best interest of all RWA members.

--RWA’s Publisher Standards should incorporate publisher criteria that recognize digital and small press publishing as legitimate and valid models.

--RWA’s Published Author standards should be revised according to a set of criteria that recognizes the specific digital publishing business model.

--All romance publications published by a royalty-paying, non-vanity/non-subsidy publisher should be eligible for the RITA, provided the submission meets minimum industry-standardized format requirements. Format requirements should be based on neutral criteria that endorse readability and ease of judging, and should not be based on the method of production or distribution.

(--End Mission Statement--)

Though Romance Writers for Change is 600+ members strong, Romance Writers for Change can’t do this alone. If you support the push for change, if you wish to see the above changes implemented, your proxy for the AGM at Nationals ’09 is needed. If you’re not attending nationals, or if you’re attending, but are not going to the AGM, send in your proxy so your voice can be heard.

What is a proxy? A proxy will allow you to appoint another member of good standing who will be attending the AGM to vote in your place. It is crucial to achieve as many proxies as possible to be heard at the AGM. Instructions for filling out your proxy and sending it in (hard copy or electronically) can be found here: http://www.courtneymilan.com/proxies.php

Early Morning People Catch the View

2009-06-06T07:47:00.001-07:00

Wolf1
Originally uploaded by adriannadane

Well, there are definitely times when it pays to be a morning person. Although I was trying to be a bit of a sluggard this a.m. I have to say, this was a pretty big guy and breathtaking to observe. And I guess I was thankful that most mornings at this time, I'm out in the back field walking my dog. And she's not big...at all.

I wasn't certainly, exactly if this was maybe a coyote or a wolf. I'm not good at identifying them. Hubby thought a fox at first, but way to large for a fox. He was big and confused.

The odd thing is, hubby is not a morning person, but he was up because he had a 7 a.m. conference call this morning.

This is the first time we ever seen wildlife such as this in our rural backyard.

Now I guess I could use a cup of coffee. I'm still not quite awake.

June 2009 Newsletter/w new contest - Now Available Online

2009-06-01T17:48:00.000-07:00

The last few months I haven't been able to get out a newsletter as I would like. But I have spent the weeks upon my return from the RT Convention revamping my schedule and routines. This month, I hope I'm starting out right.

To enter the contest, subscribe to the newsletter at my Torrid Tidbits Newsletter Yahoogroup, and read details in the newsletter. Find the newsletter online at: http://www.adriannadane.com/newsletter-archive/torridtidbits-jun2009.html

The Story That Burned to Be Written

2009-05-25T09:46:00.000-07:00

Sometimes a story sits in your heart, a scene, a moment, an experience--blazes out and says "write this story!" That's what happened with my story, Jebediah's Promise. Jebediah's Promise is rooted in Army life and the sacrifices of a wife for the husband she loves and the determination of a husband to return to the wife he can't live without.

In 2003, my son-in-law was deployed overseas and my daughter was pregnant. One of my sons was also deployed overseas during that time, just winding down his year overseas. First my son shipped out. In March, as I packed and prepared to move to another state, my attention was glued to the television screen. I went three weeks without communication at a very trying time. It was only after the move that I received a call from my son to inform me that he was safe. The relief was immense. He couldn't say much but to hear his voice was the best sound in the world.

And then my son-in-law was deployed. My daughter was near term and so I flew to Ft. Bragg to be with her for the birth of my granddaughter. My sister, who lives in New York, put together a long-distance baby shower, gathering gifts from friends and relatives around the country. Everything packed into their SUV and the family drove down to North Carolina, surprising my daughter.

My other son flew in for a week's vacation. Now, how many babies do you know that are born on their due date? Would he be here for the arrival of his new niece? Well, you know how that goes. Except in this case the stars were aligned correctly, I guess.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so, knowing my granddaughter, but she was born right on her due date. Just seven days from my own birthday. What a birthday present! My son played chauffeur, and I was there for the birth of my granddaughter. It turned out to be a C-section delivery--my granddaughter apparently having second thoughts about whether she was quite ready to leave her mother's womb, but alas the Navy doctor thought otherwise. A week later, my son who was deployed, returned to the U.S. and he joined us as well. He was stationed in Georgia at the time.

Once my stay was over, my mother-in-law flew in for three weeks to stay with my daughter. Family and friends are so important at times like this.

I spent time prior to the birth with my daughter, doing errands, meeting her friends, attending one of the family update meetings, learning about the phone trees established for military families to communicate information, going to the Post Office in sweltering heat, standing in lines because the packages to her husband were prepared and sent often. The strength necessary to continue day-to-day, waiting for that phone call, watching for that communication that keeps one going each and every day, maybe a moment online. These are images and experiences and emotions that are indelibly branded into memory.

I didn't actually start to write Jebediah's Promise until about a year later, but the idea refused to fade.

This is where the glimmer of a story began to form in my mind. This was a story I had to write. It is dedicated to my daughter, her husband, and my son, as well as to all those family who sacrifice for our safety. To my father who served in the Korean Conflict, my uncle who served in World War II, my other uncle who served in the Vietnam War, to my husband's family who have served, as well as all those who have come before and those will continue to serve.

It is a story of love, commitment, and sacrifice, first and foremost, sensual and erotic in its telling.

I thought today might be an appropriate day on which to share an excerpt once more.

Jebediah’s Promise by Adrianna Dane
Genre: Erotic Contemporary Romance
ISBN: 1-59279-473-4 (electronic)
Publisher: Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat

Also available in the Tapestry of Desire Paperback (a collection of erotic romance) available at Amazon.com.

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

Author Website: www.adriannadane.com

SYNOPSIS:

Captain Jebediah Holliday is a soldier who serves his country with pride and holds the heart of his wife Trudy, keeping him strong. Dedication to duty requires strength and commitment in separation for both Jeb and Trudy. Jeb’s pledge to do his duty and return to Trudy safely is jeopardized when he is taken hostage on a routine mission. Trudy has faith that Jeb will return home to her, keeping his promise. A hero’s face and courage comes in many guises.

EXCERPT:

"Hey soldier, how about buying a girl a drink?"

Jeb paused in the act of raising the glass to his lips and smiled to himself. He set the beer back on the bar and swiveled around on the stool, knowing exactly whom that sultry, sexy voice belonged to.

Schooling his expression so as not to reveal his anticipation, he surveyed the compact little strawberry blonde posed next to his stool. Mm-mm, damn fine looking woman. With cherry-lush lips curved into a seductive half smile, a slender golden brow arched upward, and the taunt-the-devil flash in her eyes, she presented the kill-me wallop of some of his grandpap’s finest homebrew. The now familiar burn flashed bright, tracking a path through his insides, heart to groin.

Drawing out the sizzle, he took his time in answering as he measured her with his eyes, drinking in the sensual image she presented. It was a vision he’d never grow tired of seeing. The loud country music blasting on the speakers faded away, his total concentration centered on the hot little package standing in front of him. He always had been a man who liked to take his time unwrapping presents slow and easy.

"Well, evenin’, good lookin’. What brings you into a place like this?" His body throbbed in response to the picture she presented in the tight black jeans hugging her rounded hips, and his gaze appreciated the full firm breasts his hands itched to hold.

The jade shirt she wore matched the color of her eyes, reminding him of springtime back home in the mountains of Tennessee. Lip smackin’ good as his grandpap would say.

Good thing he’d learned some gentlemanly manners over the years, or he’d be giving her the pinch test on that nice tight ass of hers, and probably warrant a slap in return.

She knew what he was thinking. He could tell by the twinkle of mischief in her eyes she knew exactly what was in his mind. And that pouty mouth dared him to try it. She stepped closer, reached out, and placed her palms against the tops of his black jean-clad thighs.

"Mmmm, nice. That’s what I like—a man with a fine pair of rock-hard legs." Her words curled around him like smoke from a campfire reaching for the sky, and she sure as hell was stoking a fire that was ready to break out into a pure red-hot blaze set to ravage his skin. She pressed her fingers against the dense fabric covering his thighs just enough, and he felt his cock respond. Oh, she had a nice grip—firm, yet gentle. Her long fingers released, tightened, repeated the action as she shifted closer to the throbbing dick waiting to be loosed.

"Mighty familiar there, don’t you think, ma’am?" He reached out and clasped her forearms before she got any farther, pulling her between the rock-hard thighs she seemed so fond of. She fit close and perfect against his aching crotch. "Damn that feels good. Too good for sitting in the middle of a goddamned bar. One drink and we’re out of here, Tru."

Her grin widened and he knew he was in for trouble. She lifted a leg and rested her boot-shod foot against the rung of the barstool. His eyes widened and he sucked air as he felt her knee graze against that sensitive stiff tool confined behind the zippered front of his pants. Slowly she rubbed in a circle. The paddle fans stirring the air from above did little to cool his mounting temperature.

"Miss me today?" she murmured, adding a mere hint more pressure.

Reviews

5 Angels!! Adrianna Dane accurately captures the essence of the military life and does so with skill. The sexual encounters are satisfying and show the connection between Trudy and Jeb. ... Adrianna Dane creates multifaceted, in depth characters the reader can identify with... --Tracey, Fallen Angel Reviews

5 Hearts!! Adrianna Dane creates a wonderful story of two people meeting for the very first time and it is love at first sight. I was deeply moved by reading this book and I found myself urging Trudy on as she struggled with day to day routines on an Army base and I cried with her as the Army Chaplain knocked on her door. The book is very realistic and a definite keeper! --Linda B., The Romance Studio

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

Happy Memorial Day.

Adrianna

Man Power - Now Available at Amazon.com

2009-05-22T11:28:00.000-07:00

Purchase Link: http://www.amazon.com/Man-Power-Adrianna-Dane/dp/1602728739/ref=pd_rhf_p_t_1

The Reviews...

For Captivity--

Recommended Read and 5 Angels!! Captivity by Adrianna Dane is yet another demonstration of the author's ability to bring a thought provoking and entertaining story for our reading pleasure. ... By the end of the book, both men had me viewing them through a different outlook... --NeNe, Fallen Angel Reviews

For Opposing Forces--

"...Something quite different, Opposing Forces is a special kind of love story. ... Opposing Forces has an unusual premise for a plot but somehow manages to stay away from turning into a comic book and showcases a poignant love between two men badly scarred inside and out... --Lisa, JoyfullyReviewed.com

For Hot Male --

"Hot Male doesn't just bring us one fantastic man, but three delicious morsels. ... Adrianna Dane's characters each has his own frailty, and will need the love and devotion of the other two to move forward. The bond shared by these three men is strong enough to heal all wounds... If you enjoy star travel combined with D/s and light BDSM, then pick up a copy of Hot Male..." -- Scandalous Minx, Literary Nymphs Reviews

A little about the stories in Man Power:

Three erotic worlds fused together to unite the fierce passion and lusty friction of the ultimate in dynamic man power. Love and domination, frailty and fate, alien passion and cyber sex. All male, all desirable. All looking for love.

Previously available only in electronic format, these three stories of gay erotic romance have now been combined for a paperback edition! Included are the tales...

# Captivity
A winged man known simply as "the wild thing" has been free to roam the jungles outside Bendar City until he's betrayed, captured, and sold to a powerful lord who values the stunning birdman's unique beauty. Lord Adolpho Serratin of the Kalamadur Oasis maintains a collection of unusual discoveries, many one-of-a-kind, and "the wild thing" soon becomes the most beloved of Serratin's possessions...in more ways than one. He is given the name Orion Birdwalker, tamed, and trained to serve his new master in all ways, including those duties involving intimate service. But when Orion is presented with an unexpected chance for escape, it becomes the hardest decision he will ever make, since he knows he can't have both his freedom and Lord Serratin, the master he has come to love. Will he choose to flee, or remain a captive to his own passions?

# Opposing Forces
Having been passionate lovers before a laboratory explosion changed their lives, Paz Jones and Nikki Lozakis finally meet again under very different circumstances. Both men are changed, one now known to the world as Silverhawk, who believes in justice and uses his new powers to help the world, and the other a mutant going by the name of Steele, a rogue with superhuman abilities, intent on destroying the mad scientist who made him what he is. Can two men with scarred souls and the superior potential to guard humanity save themselves and re-ignite the love they once shared even though they are no longer the men they once were? And can they come to terms with what they have become, and what they have lost?

# Hot Male
Leo Southworth is into a very hot male on the new .man network. Suffering from injuries that cause him constant pain, Leo has shied away from physical relationships, and talking with Sirras online is what keeps him going. It isn't only about the cyber sex—it's because Sirras can take him places he's never been before. But Sirras, consorting with a human online, is breaking every law known to Avvarian "travvellers." Yet there’s something about Leo that Sirras can’t resist. As if that isn't bad enough, who should appear in Sirras's life at the worst possible moment? Raddlack, the mage-lord with whom Sirras had shared a night of sizzling passion. Sirras and Leo...two lonely men who aren't looking for love, who connect online, thinking it would be enough to satisfy their need for companionship after taking some hard turns in their lives. But love is what happens when three hot males physically come together, and it will blow apart all their worlds and ignite something brighter, hotter, and more lasting than any of them could have ever imagined...

Read excerpts at my website.

An Obsession with Genres and Subgenres

2009-05-15T17:14:00.000-07:00

This week the project was not as expected. There are some weeks when I tend to delve into craft before moving on to the next story. This week I was reading about structures and conflicts and scenes and stuff like that. Often, I make notes as I read.

So in doing this craft reading this week I got to a section about genres and subgenres with a listing. I was reading through the list and I was thinking this might be a good time to make up a decent genre reference list. I think it's important before blending genres to know what the foundations are that you're working with. Sometimes it helps in merging and providing new ideas for mixing and matching plots and characters and themes.

So I begin this little project, starting with the list in the book. Well, I wasn't satisfied. I didn't like some of the descriptions, I thought some of the subgenres were actually theme types rather than actual genres and so my short project turned into something much more as I began researching genres and subgenres.

Several days later, I have now completed the initial project. I'm still looking at it and thinking I need to do more, but I already sat here through lunch, and about to do so through dinner. So, my list is now thirteen pages.

I thought it might be nice to share it and you can now find it on my website at: http://www.adriannadane.com/genresandsubgenres.html. You can also download it from that page as a pdf file if you scroll to the bottom.

Now, I really need to get some dinner. I hope I can now stop obsessing over this list at least for a little while.

Probably not.

Adrianna

A Response from Amazon and some resolution

2009-04-13T21:18:00.000-07:00

I emailed Amazon this morning about this widespread problem and my concerns. Tonight I received the following response:

Hello,

This is an embarrassing and ham-fisted cataloging error for a company that prides itself on offering complete selection.

It has been misreported that the issue was limited to Gay & Lesbian themed titles - in fact, it impacted 57,310 books in a number of broad categories such as Health, Mind & Body, Reproductive & Sexual Medicine, and Erotica. This problem impacted books not just in the United States but globally. It affected not just sales rank but also had the effect of removing the books from Amazon's main product search.

Many books have now been fixed and we're in the process of fixing the remainder as quickly as possible, and we intend to implement new measures to make this kind of accident less likely to occur in the future.

Further, I'm sorry to hear that you had an unsatisfactory experience when you called us previously.

I do apologize for any misunderstanding that may have occurred and I have passed your feedback along to the appropriate people in our company.

Thanks for contacting us. We hope to see you again soon.

On its face the email reads like a form letter sent to many others, but I did note in the closing paragraphs several things were addressed on a personal level. At least it gave me the feeling that the person answering did read my email. It was signed, but I don't see the necessity of posting the name of the person who signed the email.

I have noted that front-page search, as well as ranking, have been restored for my books.

Would resolution have taken place as quickly without community support and outcry? Probably not. But Amazon has responded, and done so quickly.

Hopefully this will not occur again, but it always pays to watch closely and to speak out.

#amazonfail

2009-04-13T12:23:00.000-07:00

I feel there's been quite a bit posted in the last few days regarding this debacle and doubt I need say more on the subject. GLBT has been hit hard by Amazon, but also hetero erotic romance has been hit as well. Two of my six paperbacks have been deranked.

Let's take my erotic romance collection, Esmerelda's Lovers. I checked the metatags for this story. The only tag that matches the other of my books that was unranked is: Adult, Fiction. It is the only tag NOT listed for my other four titles that are still ranked.

Click on pic for larger view.

Now, when you search for "Esmerelda's Lovers," you get this:

And when you search for Esmerelda's Lovers by Adrianna Dane, you get this:

Click on pic for larger view.

Thongs? You'll sell a pair of thongs, but not my romance?

In order to find this book, you would need to go to the drop-down menu, click on books, specifically, and search for this book by title and/or author name. In other words, this book is now excluded from general searches. And no longer has a rank. And I just did this search a couple of minutes ago.

Click on pic for larger view.

And for Carnal Carnivale. Meta-tags are: Adrianna Dane; Carnal Carnivale; Amber Quill Press, LLC; Erotica; Erotica, Fiction; Romance; Adult, Fiction; Short Stories (Single Author, Romance), General.

Here's what you get when you search for Carnal Carnivale:

I find this unacceptable. Shame on you, Amazon. Shame.

The Human Condition and Creating Character

2009-02-06T09:11:00.000-08:00

As a writer, I create stories with both male and female perspective. Of course, fiction does tend to be larger than life. Part of creating realistic male POV in fiction, especially when you're female, is listening closely to the men in your life. Watching and trying to understand. Talking to them. Always observing.

As a female writer, it can be a bit easier to hone in on a female response. Writing from a male perspective can be rather trickier. One must dig deeper.

But the bottom line is emotion. All of us, male or female, respond with feelings in some way. Sometimes it might be simply an internal reaction, sometimes both internal and external. And sometimes life situations direct our outer responses and we hide behind an image of expectation.

I am forever fascinated by the human condition in all its myriad facets. Talking to people is important, but even in that sometimes we are presented with a facade, so in delving deeper into the psyche, I read a wide variety of books, both fiction and nonfiction. It's always interesting to read other authors' works and get a glimpse into their perceptions. I do not pull from other fiction when I'm creating character and personality.

I write from a sense of person and not place. Although place does have an impact upon person. And sometimes I personify place or thing.

What are some of the nonfiction books I use to delve into psyche? Here's a list of recent reads:

"The Heroine's Journey" by Maureen Murdock
"Owning Your Own Shadow: Understanding the Dark Side of the Psyche" by Robert A. Johnson
"She: Understanding Feminine Psychology" by Robert A. Johnson
"He: Understanding Masculine Psychology" by Robert A. Johnson
"The Interpretation of Fairy Tales" by Marie-Louise von Franz
"Shadow and Evil in Fairy Tales" by Marie-Louise von Franz
"Psychology for Screenwriters: Building Conflict in Your Script" by William Indick, Ph.D.
"King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine" by Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette
"Meditations on Violence: A Comparison of Martial Arts Training & Real World Violence" by Sgt. Rory Miller

I do, of course, also have other lists of references for writing various aspects of erotic romance, that do not include "craft" books, per se--but that discussion is for another day.

So that's the short list in researching the human condition. These are among the books on my keeper shelf and I draw on them as I develop characters, in hopes that I create people and personality and not just stereotypes.

I highlight and mark passages that particularly resonate for me and instill thought.

"Creativity sometimes needs the protection of darkness, of being ignored." - The Interpretation of Fairy Tales.

Which is why I call my office "the dungeon." It is introspection and listening to the characters that drives my fingers across the keyboard. I write best when I am alone, in silence in order to hear what is revealed.

This phrase reminds me to fight through the block and put the first word on paper.

"There are people who have the task of writing on a theme but say it is dull and does not appeal to them, but after investing some libido in it they discover an inner flow of creativity. Many lazy people wait for inspiration until they are eighty and none comes; however, there are situations where one cannot wait, one has to make the first move and invest one's own vital strength in the task before it reveals its meaning." --Shadow and Evil in Fairy Tales

Oh, yes, I like this one. This moment, when a character reveals some deep facet of him or herself is one of the most exciting moments in writing.

In my most recent release, "Lonely Hearts" this moment occurred for my character, Jim. Jim lives with hidden guilt and a skewed sense of deep responsibility which is ruining his life. There were several instances with Jim of revelations from his past.

Each veil lifted to reveal more and more of why Jim came to be the man he is. Moments and decisions in his life that profoundly affect how he relates to other people. How he trusts...or doesn't trust.

I have to admit there are times when I worry about following those "revelations." Many times they are dark and very extraordinary.

Such as in Caution: Wet Paint, when a particular facet of Clara's personality was revealed.

In a menage romance, such as Caution: Wet Paint for me and for my characters there must be a special symmetry that draws these three characters together. And it is through revealing the inner workings of the heart and soul that binds characters in a strong enough way to make the relationship individualized and believable.

My heart always beats faster when I translate what a character is finally comfortable enough to reveal to me. But in this instance, as usually is the case, this marks the difference between one-dimensional stereotype, and that of honesty in a character's development and personality.

With Caleb, in Lonely Hearts, I drew from the male Lover archetype. Caleb is a sensitive soul who hides behind flamboyance and creates perfect moments for everyone else. He loves life, but is missing that vital part--a man to share his life with. His personality is rooted in the Lover.

"The Lover is the archetype of play and of "display," of healthy embodiment, of being in the world of sensuous pleasure and in one's own body without shame --King, Warrior, Magician, Lover

Shame and guilt are exactly what stops Jim from achieving his heart's desire and living a full life.

Lonely Hearts is about weddings, about beginnings, about realization. It's about secrets and guilt and most of all it's about finding love.

"The man under the influence of the Lover wants to touch and be touched. He wants to touch everything physically and emotionally, and he wants to be touched by everything. He recognizes no boundaries. He wants to live out the connectedness he feels with the world inside, in the context of his powerful feelings, and outside, in the context of his relationships with other people. Ultimately, he wants to experience the world of sensual experience in its totality." --King, Warrior, Magician, Lover

This is Caleb. Can he bring Jim into his world? Can Jim learn to experience love in all its many facets? Is he the Lover Caleb has been searching for?

Exploring the human condition in fiction is an exciting adventure and an expression of hope and the endless and boundless possibilities for find that person who makes your life even more perfect.

Happy February--the month we celebrate love...

Adrianna

Sully's Heart in Kindle (excerpt and reviews)

2009-01-28T06:14:00.000-08:00

Now available in Kindle format at Amazon.com.

Title: Sully’s Heart
Author: Adrianna Dane
Collection: You Make Me Live AmberPax
Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/SullysHeart.html
Author URL: http://www.adriannadane.com
Publisher: Amber Quill Press/Amber Allure
ISBN: 978-1-60272-154-8
Publisher URL: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure
Cover Art by Trace Edward Zaber

SYNOPSIS:

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 yarned for more than friendship. With 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.

EXCERPT:

“Sully Vance. It’s been a long time.”

Sully shoved the hat back on his forehead and then shifted to dismount, the sound of creaking leather loud to Luke’s ears at just that moment. The branches of the tree shifted and creaked and the hiss of a breeze shuddered across his bare skin.

He was standing here naked in front of the one man he wanted more than any other. And the one he couldn’t have, not if he wanted to keep his friendship.

Luke drank in the vision of Sully as he stepped down from his horse. The Western cut jeans cupped his tight ass perfectly. Long, muscled legs that carried him closer to Luke, wonderfully broad shoulders, and a chest that had obviously filled out nicely since the last time they’d been together.

He pushed off his hat and strode toward Luke. His thick, blond hair was just as Luke had remembered it, streaked by the sun, like a field of shimmering wheat, darkened at the moment with sweat. And his eyes, those deep blue eyes that seemed to take in everything, study it, and understand it. Calm, strong, and alert all at the same time.

He stopped right in front of Luke and looked at him intently. Luke saw things in those eyes, but it couldn’t be what he thought. It wasn’t possible.

His fingers curled into fists of impotence. He wanted to reach out to hug him close, but he didn’t dare. It would ruin the moment.

Ruin everything.

They stared at each other for a long time, almost a gap of years spanned between them as they studied and tried to learn what the time apart had done to each of them.

“Why’d you come back?” Sully wanted to know.

For you, Luke wanted to answer. Instead he shrugged. “Unfinished business, I guess.”

Sully kept staring at him intently and Luke could feel his cock beginning to tighten in response to that intensity. He was going to shame himself, he just knew it. He should just get dressed and hightail it out of there fast before something happened that shouldn’t.

“How’s your old man? I haven’t seen much of him lately, but I got the feeling he’s turned harder over the years. I’ve asked him about you when I’ve seen him in town, but he just grumbles something about you being a druggie and he didn’t talk to you. If you didn’t send the postcards now and then, I’d have worried you were dead in a ditch someplace. But according to the newspapers, you’re doing real fine. I’ve been wanting to come to see one of your concerts, but you know how it gets.”

Luke still couldn’t look away. He had to wonder what else his father had said to Sully.

He’s a fancy faggot, Vance, not someone you should be associating with. Luke wouldn’t put it past his father saying just that sort of thing.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been wanting to come back for a visit, but, well, there just didn’t seem to be time.”

Another long silence dropped between them. Luke’s gaze dropped to Sully lips. There were so many times when he’d wanted to taste them. He felt his heart hammering against his chest. His nipples tightened as cool air wafted over them.

“I’ve missed you, Luke,” Sully said softly as he stepped closer. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

Luke held his breath. What was he trying to say? He licked his lips, nervous as hell that he was going to say the wrong thing, make a misstep.

“I-I’ve missed you, too. More than you know.” Something changed in Sully’s eyes.

And then suddenly he swooped forward, taking Luke by surprise, and planted a searing kiss on Luke’s lips. Nothing could have shocked him more. He felt Sully’s tongue press between the seam of his lips and plunge deep into his mouth. Sully wrapped his arms around Luke and tugged him close.

Luke was too shocked to respond right away, but then he lifted his arms and wrapped them around the broad shoulders of this gorgeous man and pressed himself tightly into his embrace.

REVIEWS:

"... Sully's Heart is a heart-stopping tale of two men who have the same problem. ... Sully's Heart will warm your heart with their love and sizzle your nerve endings with the heat they have together when they hit the sheets. I highly recommend this entrancing story..." --Raine, JoyfullyReviewed.com

4.5 Ribbons!! Adrianna Dane has quickly become one of my favoriate authors because of her heartfelt storylines and memorable characters... In SULLY'S HEART readers are treated to an inside look at what drives Luke to behave in such a self-destructive manner and what it takes to save him. ... I really enjoyed the intensity of this storyline and quickly read through the whole book just because I had to know how things turn out between Luke and Sully... --Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies Reviews

Tone of Story and Word Choice

2009-01-21T08:55:00.000-08:00

When you write a story, do you take into consideration the genre you are writing?

For example, what words do you use to describe...anything...in a horror story?

What about a mystery?

In horror, do you simply use that tone in the specific scene where a ghost appears? Where a monster makes its appearance and maybe kills a victim? Where does build up begin?

When do you start to seduce your reader into the ambiance of a horror or a mystery or a romance?

The same is true for the eroticism of a story, wouldn't you say? Word choices throughout the story give it the texture and tone for the genre, not just the number of A-into-B sex scenes, or a murder scene, or the swashbuckling warrior scene in a fantasy. It is the whole ambiance.

Would you disagree with that?

When I describe a mountain (such as in Breathless Peaks), a pair of gloves (Skin Tight), a painting (Caution: Wet Paint), in an erotic romance, that item is imbued with sensuality. That is part of the plot. In a mystery, in a horror novel, what are your word choices for bringing a reader into the emotion of that story from the very first page?

From Breathless Peaks:

They both called to her--both wanted her total attention. The feeling was like being drawn to two possessive lovers--neither one willing to let her go. Neither one giving an inch. No matter how far she ran or how deep she tried to hide, they wouldn't let her be. Not really. She'd always felt their presence.

There were times when she thought she'd won, but those times were fleeting. Like a sharpened nail of silvery metal, she was drawn by a powerful magnetism she fought against daily. She was weary of the fight. She wanted to simply let go and go back. To bend to their will, to give them what they wanted. What she needed.

If she went, would she lose her sense of self? Would they press her between them and suffocate the life from her?

Every time she thought about them, her heart beat faster, raced like a ticking bomb, ready to explode. The heat of remembered contact coursed through her like an avalanche that she couldn't fight and she was swallowed whole, buried alive. Not any more. Not now.

She loved them both. More than she should. Both left her breathless, always wanting more. Needing it, and nothing could change that.

From Skin Tight:

The fit was tight, so very tight. Just the way she loved it. Slow and easy. Curving and sheathing until there was no space left to breathe. She sighed as she stroked her fingertips across the glove's supple leather, tracing the outline of each of her enclosed digits one at a time. She inhaled the item's earthy aroma, allowing it to wend its way through her.

Karli loved the scent of finely tooled gloves. And these, oh these, were perfect. They were so tight a fit, she could see the outline of her nails through the stretched fabric. Yet the leather was so pliant there was no problem at all fisting her hand, and her knuckles peaked with shiny definition.

"They look gorgeous on you, Ms. Logan. Almost like a second skin." The saleswoman smiled. This expensive pair would undoubtedly mean a very good sales percentage for the woman behind the counter. "I knew they would," she gushed. "That's why I called you right away. I hoped you'd get the message. I said it was important."

With difficulty, Karli looked away from her gloved hand to smile at the girl. "The service did get the message to me. And I appreciate the call, Wendy. You take very good care of me." Of course, the call had been vetted through several different people before it ended up in Karli's hands, but at least it had reached her. In a gesture of appreciation, Karli's gloved hand pressed the back of Wendy's bare one. She could feel the warmth of the woman's skin even through the boundary of the elegant glove.

No man's cock had ever fit her pussy as tightly as her fingers fit into these gloves. The press and scent almost had her orgasming on the spot. She bit her lip, then soothed the wound with her tongue.

"You have such elegant hands, Ms. Logan. This style looks just wonderful on you." She looked around the small shop, then back at Karli. "Actually," she said in a confidential tone, "I set them aside until you could come in to try them for yourself."

Karli flexed her hand again, enjoying the feel of confinement, the stroke and give of the leather. She wanted to touch herself so badly, to baptize them with her juices. To feel the leather against the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

Caution: Wet Paint:

"It's a very...riveting piece, isn't it? Do you know the artist?"

Clara couldn't take her eyes off the work of art. She felt the heat of a summer sun on her naked body. Sable brushes skimming across her skin, between the lips of her pussy. She squeezed her legs tightly together, trying to deny the erotic sensations that quaked through her.

"Clara, did you hear me?"

"Yes, Maggie, I heard you. It wasn't created by one artist--it was two. You know one of them."

Spread your legs, Clara. Show us your desire. Clara shivered as the ghostly demand echoed inside her head.

"I do? Who is it?"

She felt fingertips stroke gently across her inner thighs. The warmth of a bonfire against her back. The rough texture of a flannel blanket beneath her.

"Arturo."

Maggie turned to look at Clara, her mouth agape.

"I didn't know he ever did work like this. It doesn't look like any of the stuff you have on display at the gallery. Who was the other artist?"

"Samir Zahi." Prince Samir Zahi to be correct. Samir, whose mouth had tasted her, lips hot and demanding on her breasts. Her nipples burned for him as she studied the painting, yearning to feel his mouth on her flesh once again.

And in Body Parts foreshadowing a sense of darkness and mystery:

She studied the exterior of the powerful stone structure. It was built to last the ages and much too substantial to simply be called a house. Right out of a gothic novel, it was one of the most opulent pieces of architecture Korrie have ever seen.

Within seconds, the sun shifted behind a dark cloud and cool darkness settled over the property, shadows grabbing at the structure. And at her. She again looked up to study the architecture and this time her gaze settled on the towers. Just below the spires in the left column she noticed the blackened stone and boarded-up brace of windows. From the early photos, they had once held handcrafted stained glass.

It was a terrible tragedy when the Ransoms perished in a devastating fire that destroyed a great deal of the laboratory on the top floor of the mansion. It was reportedly one of their experiments that had gone horribly wrong. Most of their research papers were destroyed as well. At least that’s the rumor.

That’s what it said in the file. She should know because she was the one who’d conducted the interview with the retired newspaper reporter. One of the many reasons she wanted to come here ﷓﷓ to discover the truth. To walk in their shoes, so to speak. Now was her chance.

The lack of sun set a pall over the house, making it look like a fixture out of one of those old horror movies. A shiver spread up her spine, like tiny fingers gripping and tightening around her flesh. What experiment had the Ransoms been working on when they perished?

Does explicitness equal erotic in every scene?

Does erotic equal a full sex scene on every page?

Does revulsion equal horror in every paragraph?

Does violence equal mystery in every act?

Or is it the word choices we use as wordsmiths, throughout the story, that draws the emotion and keep the reader enthralled?

Can you segment plot from atmosphere, or intimacy from relationship, be it mystery, horror, scifi, fantasy, or erotic? If you do, is that story still firmly planted within a specific genre?

Just asking...

Adrianna
www.adriannadane.com

The Writing Mind

2009-01-02T07:26:00.001-08:00

fountain pen
Originally uploaded by [phil h]

Currently reading "Bullies, Bastards & Bitches: How to Write The Bad Guys of Fiction" by Jessica Page Morrell (ISBN: 978-1-58297-484-2).

This morning I happened to be talking with someone on the phone about how a writer's mind works differently sometimes. After we hung up I turned to reading another chapter from this writing craft book and these few sentences struck me.

"Every writer has his own way "in" to the story. Some plan, some dream, some piece a story together like a puzzle as bits of inspiration slip into consciousness. For most writers, plot and conflict are so entwined with characters that one cannot be known without the other."

I think I tend to start out being the puzzle piecer type of writer. I have a program I keep open called "RoughDraft" and I jot down bits and pieces of characterization and plot as they come to me.

I think we all know that each writer creates differently but sometimes validating our writing habits and the differences in the writer's mind helps to remind us.

I'm using this picture from flickr this morning because I love writing with a fountain pen. A number of years ago I purchased a box of miscellaneous stuff from an auction back in a small town near where I grew up--Richmondville, New York. Some of the contents of the auction belonged to a newspaper publisher. At the bottom of the box, crammed into a crease at the corner, was an old Parker fountain pen. I cleaned it up and I purchase the ink for it (it doesn't take cartridges) and use it often, especially in my journal writing.

There's intimate ritual to working with a fountain pen. Especially an older pen that needs to be filled and cleaned and cared for. A fountain pen holds secrets, shares secrets, tell stories. It's not a throw-away pen; it's a companion through the writing life and deserves respect.

I use Sheaffer Skrip peacock blue ink, special ordered online from Pendemonium.

Adrianna

Happy New Year...

2008-12-23T07:52:00.001-08:00

icicle
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

Winter's Day

2008-12-22T05:42:00.001-08:00

evergreengroupingsnow
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

Her Own Traditions

2008-12-21T07:15:00.001-08:00

tallevergreensnow-turquoisestars
Originally uploaded by adriannadane

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,

Adrianna

Thoughts To Music

2008-12-20T07:31:00.001-08:00

hollyberries1
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
merged.
Christmas Eve--the most holiest of nights.

December, 1996

Frozen

2008-12-19T06:14:00.001-08:00

WAWinter6
Originally uploaded by adriannadane

Frozen

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.

Frozen.

February, 1994

Winter in Washington

2008-12-18T12:12:00.001-08:00

WaWinter2008-3
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.

Adrianna

The Age of Sexy Maturity

2008-12-17T11:13:00.000-08:00

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?

Adrianna

The Messenger Now Available! (Contemporary Gay Erotic Romance)

2008-12-15T21:51:00.000-08:00

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

Synopsis:

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.

EXCERPT:

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."

"Felice?"

"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

Adrianna
"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"
www.adriannadane.com
http://www.adriannadane.blogspot.com
http://www.myspace.com/adriannadane

What Do You Think?

2008-12-08T07:06:00.000-08:00

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."

Hmmm.

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

Adrianna

Day 2 of Orycon30

2008-11-23T07:29:00.000-08:00

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.

Adrianna

A Weekend of SciFi and Fantasy

2008-11-22T06:31:00.001-08:00

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.

Adrianna

A New Contract, A Stunning Cover

2008-10-24T16:10:00.000-07:00

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.

Adrianna

New Erotic Titles Available - Amazon Kindle

2008-10-04T07:16:00.000-07:00

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.

Adrianna
Passionate stories with adventurous heart

Backyard Bunnies

2008-07-30T07:41:00.000-07:00

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.

Adrianna

New Release - The Horsemasters: Riding Lessons

2008-07-26T15:03:00.000-07:00

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

SYNOPSIS:

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

Adrianna
"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"
www.adriannadane.com
http://www.adriannadane.blogspot.com
http://www.myspace.com/adriannadane

Romance and NASCAR Racing

2008-05-17T07:20:00.000-07:00

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.

Enjoy...

Adrianna

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

2008-05-16T08:30:00.000-07:00

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

BLURB:

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!

--
Adrianna

"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"
www.adriannadane.com
www.midnight-pearl.com
http://www.adriannadane.blogspot.com
http://www.myspace.com/adriannadane

Perspective in Editing

2008-05-15T06:50:00.000-07:00

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?

Adrianna

New Paperback Anthology - Tapestry of Desire

2008-05-12T19:31:00.000-07:00

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.

Adrianna

Be Careful Where You Attach It

2008-05-10T07:48:00.000-07:00

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.

Adrianna

Web 2.0 and Hub Pages

2008-05-09T08:47:00.000-07:00

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?

Adrianna

A Visit to Pittsburgh

2008-05-06T07:34:00.000-07:00

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.waymarking.com/waymarks/WM3NED
http://www.fpcp.org/ (for the history of the church)
http://www.flickr.com/adriannadane (more photos of the church and Pittsburgh)

Adrianna

Esmerelda's Lovers Merits 4 Stars from RT!

2008-04-09T08:52:00.000-07:00

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.

Adrianna

Podcast Excerpt for The Lion and the Rose Now Available

2008-02-15T08:35:00.001-08:00

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

Excerpt:

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.”

“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.

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

2008-02-07T06:01:00.000-08:00

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.

BLURB:

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.

EXCERPT:

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

The Magic of Being

2008-01-29T09:34:00.000-08:00

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.

Adrianna

Vampyre Falls: Morganna's Sacrifice - NOW AVAILABLE

2008-01-27T07:38:00.000-08:00

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

SYNOPSIS:
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?

Excerpt:

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

2008-01-22T07:27:00.000-08:00

Body Parts by Adrianna Dane

Now Available from Loose Id
Cover Art by April Martinez
Genres: Gothic/Horror Paranormal
Length: Novel
Caution: Explicit adult content

Blurb:

Male virility unbound. Eternal lust designed by and for the pleasure of his makers and their thirst to discover the secret to eternal life.

Immortal Youth. All male. An incomparable Frankenstein creation without flaw. Parts melded by alchemy and science, infused and fed by sexual energies of lust and desire, wholly designed for pleasure. Who survives through the acts of pleasure in all its many seductive forms.

Yet a tortured soul who walks eternally alone, forever hungry, driven to hunt for his one, true, perfect mate. That one person who can accept who and what he is. Someone who doesn't see him as a monster, but a man who only wants to love and to no longer be alone. Someone he can trust.

Athan...they all wanted him...

Dr. Sheba Ransom...

My heart hammered loudly as I greedily studied the sheathed, inanimate body. As I slowly revealed the shrouded form, a shiver of anticipation raced along my spine because deep down I knew my desire to see this gorgeous creature animate once more was not fully clinical... From the journal of Dr. Sheba Ransom (March 1939)

Dr. Paul Cathcart...

Paul had been here for a month and during that time he'd grown accustomed to this big, mysterious man. He'd become addicted to the sex. Maybe he needed some distance to regain his perspective. Becoming emotionally attached to any of the men or women he fucked was not in his best interests. He'd learned that lesson a long time ago. His mother had been a great teacher.

People were meant to be used to get ahead and make life more comfortable. Use ‘em and lose ‘em was the motto he lived by, what his mother had taught him very well. But Athan was almost a creature of another world and his fucking was stupendous. Paul had never really thought of himself as gay, but with this man... Mmm, it was hard to think of being with anyone else, let alone a woman. He already felt the desire jolting through him, and they'd just fucked that morning. - Present Day, Dr. Paul Cathcart of the Morgan Institute

Dr. Korrie Odell...

Suddenly it was as if someone else took over her body -- yet again. Arching, she smoothed hands down over her aching breasts, cupped the dampness of her mound as she watched the molten look in his eyes deepen. Reaching up, she worked the button free on the front of his worn denims, peeled the zip open, and shoved his pants down over his hips. He dropped forward, reached under her skirt, and with one quick yank ripped off her panties. Shoving her skirt and slip up, he pressed her slick thighs open, opening and baring her to him. His hot hand cupped her, and she gasped when she felt a finger slide through her juices. Pure primal heat engulfed her as she arched her hips up to meet him, like a plant rising from beneath the earth to reach for the life-giving sun... -Present Day, Dr. Korrie Odell

Yet no one would ever understand what he truly desired...

Athan...

No one knew what living hell was unless they walked in his shoes. And he was certain no one would want that pleasure.

God-play, and he was the result. Combine science, sex, and alchemy, and the good doctors had created him. He lived by pleasure, for pleasure, and because of pleasure. He was fed by sex, the anticipation of the hunt, the sex act, the energy of consummation, and the afterglow.

He was one of a kind, an experiment never to be repeated. One that could be turned monster or man. The Ransoms had wanted the man, but if anyone else found out the truth about him...the monster could be released if the wrong person learned his secrets. He couldn't take the chance, ...

No one was to be trusted, that was the one edict that had been ingrained into Athan by the Ransoms.

Trust no one....

Or did someone understand?

They all want something...

One wanted to give him life, to protect him, and teach him about passion...

One wanted to use him, to own him....or destroy him...

One wanted to love him ...

and one wanted simply to no longer remain alone...

In the Beginning...

In the 1940's the Doctors Ransom hid more from the outside world than anyone could ever have imagined, both in scientific research and in the intimacy of passion. Basing their taboo, scientific research on the controversial works of Dr. Frankenstein, and combining their own knowledge, Sheba and Cornelius Ransom created the perfect male specimen from body parts and mystic alchemy. He is one-of-a-kind and no one will ever discover the true depths of the experiment because in his creation, the doctors also designed the perfect guardian to secure the records containing the secrets of their miracle defined by pure lust. He is a man imprisoned by his roots.

More than sixty years later, Dr. Korrie Odell, a research scientist at the Morgan Institute, a woman betrayed and marked by her past, is in search of the answer to the riddle of immortality, one supposedly unlocked by Drs. Sheba and Cornelius Ransom. Dr. Paul Cathcart, Korrie's ex-lover, and the man who betrayed her, also thirsts for that knowledge and fights for plumb assignment using any method necessary to gain what he wants. A quirk of fate eventually lands Korrie the opportunity she's been waiting for and has her arriving at the Ransom estate to more thoroughly delve into the Ransoms' research. It is there that Korrie stumbles upon the Heathcliff-sexy and mysteriously elusive caretaker, known only by the name "Athan"...

Frankenstein may have created a monster, but the Ransoms sculpted a lover without boundaries, without limits, tied irrevocably to a tortured past. In his mind he is an unspeakable horror.

There are murderous forces and dark, sinister secrets churning on the horizon, ones that contain the power to destroy Korrie and Athan and quench the fiery passion that has only begun to unleash.

Read more about Athan and his lovers at
http://www.adriannadane.com/bodyparts.html

Purchase the book: http://www.loose-id.com/detail.aspx?ID=637

Creating Immortal Treasure

2008-01-11T09:23:00.001-08:00

In 2006, Amber Heat released an erotic romance of mine titled Immortal Treasure. I've recently recorded a podcast of the first chapter of this story and published it today.

Creating Immortal Treasure happened through a series of events. I started out with the story premise of an archeologist/linguist who goes to Egypt on a dig. It was interesting that a series of programs regarding ancient Egypt were broadcast right around the time I was plotting this story. It was around November, just when the large discounts houses have those wonderful glossy gift books out and I purchased one of them on Ancient Egypt. Let me tell you, it's a really big book...and I love it.

Slowly the story began to emerge and change and grow as I watched and read more and more about the mysteries of Ancient Egypt.

I often find that if I go to sleep at night pondering a story, I awake with a scene in my head, or some image that relates to my work in progress (WIP). Thus was created the mythical city of Niveka, lost long ago through the anger of the God, Ra.

In a Google search, I discovered a listing of Egyptian names, breaking them down and providing meaning to the various roots of the names. And so Khafeelamtek, First Vizier and Caretaker of the Secrets of the King, and the other ancient, immortal characters were named in this story.

And here is where the lovely Dr. Cassandra Linsey enters the picture, a woman who is chosen to reveal the secrets of Niveka.

This is what I love about story creation and why my house (let alone my office) is filled with books, books, and more books, and pile after pile of paper. Researching and reading and making notes until suddenly a bolt of lightning hits and just around another corner some exciting new revelation is revealed to enhance and bring the story and characters to life.

I have to say, I didn't want Immortal Treasure to end, there's so much more to learn about my mythical city of Niveka and the people who lived there. This is the type of thing that brings so much excitement to story creation.

A little about Immortal Treasure.

"Destiny and immortality often demand a steep price. The sands of time are running out as a seductively attractive Vizier of ancient Egypt and a beautiful present day Egyptologist are surprised to discover a shared passion that explodes into more than the borders of time, or the gods, will allow."

Listen to the podcast of the first chapter at: http://adriannadane.podomatic.com/entry/2008-01-11T08_31_54-08_00

Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/Amberheat/ImmortalTreasure.html

Read an excerpt: http://www.adriannadane.com/immortaltreasure.html

This story and the research is what led to Jewel of Niveka which is the story of a secondary character from Immortal Treasure, Sahrametatiri and the man who falls in love with her, Ben Solomon.

There's at least one more story to be told and if you read Immortal Treasure, I think you can guess whose story it will be.

Adrianna

Taboo Ideas

2008-01-10T08:48:00.000-08:00

Recently I purchased a set of Goddesses Knowledge cards. I wasn't exactly certain what I was going to do with them, but I have always been interested in the goddess figure and the various representations and archetypes through different cultures.

I shuffled the cards the other morning and chose one. It is interesting that it should have been "Eagle Woman." The Bird Woman Goddess is fearless, yet nuturing. She is in many respects a marriage of masculine and feminine.

The Bird Goddess goes far back into foundations of goddess mythology, one of the oldest archetypes of the goddess figure.

My time and thoughts this week have been focused on my upcoming new release, Body Parts, and the edits to another of my stories, An Acquired Taste. These are very different stories, but contain taboo elements. In particular, Body Parts doesn't follow the accepted rules of romance stories. I'm finding the more I write, the less I follow the traditional rules. It must be the rebel in me, or maybe it's just the way the story needs to be told.

Often when we read something, certain words or ideas pop out at us. These will visually be the words that touch on something important to us, that are meaningful and useful in our lives.

I read the narrative on the back of the Eagle Woman card and these are the words that spoke to me today, considering my state of mind.

"...linked with the masculine" "...vessel" [this word holds particular meaning in relation to Body Parts] "...ability to break out of millennia-old stereotypes and find a new definition..."

I didn't know what to expect when I pulled a card the other morning, but Eagle Woman certainly connected with some part of me. Or maybe I just reached out to claim what I felt was mine.

Certainly an interesting exercise for the morning. I guess I was looking for an answer, and I got it.

For more information on the cards, Goddesses Knowledge Cards are published by Pomegranate and can be purchased at Isis Books (www.isisbooks.com) or another online store of your preference.

Adrianna

The Erotic Ritual of Recreational Reading

2007-12-31T05:37:00.000-08:00

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,

Adrianna

Podcast Excerpt for Scent Now Available

2007-12-07T07:54:00.000-08:00

I've just posted a podcast excerpt from Scent. You can listen or download it at: http://adriannadane.podomatic.com/entry/2007-12-07T07_30_50-08_00

Title: Primal Magic 2: Scent

Author: Adrianna Dane

Author Website: http://www.adriannadane.com

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

Publisher: Amber Heat (www.amberheat.com)

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.

EXCERPT:

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.

Julian.

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: http://www.adriannadane.com/scent.html

--
Adrianna
"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"
www.adriannadane.com
www.vampyrefalls.com
www.midnight-pearl.com
http://www.adriannadane.blogspot.com
http://www.myspace.com/adriannadane

Perspectives from the Northwest

2007-12-04T13:05:00.000-08:00

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.

Adrianna

This Week's Podcast Now Available - Zytarri 1: Virgin Blood

2007-10-26T06:26:00.000-07:00

I've just posted this week's chapter excerpt podcast. Listen to a first-chapter excerpt from my dark futuristic fantasy erotic romance "Zytarri 1: Virgin Blood" at: http://adriannadane.podOmatic.com/entry/eg/2007-10-26T05_59_22-07_00

What is Zytarri?

Zytarri is a star system far from our own. There are ten planets and a crimson sun in the Zytarri system. Six planets are known to be inhabited, including the planet Ebonnia.

Ebonnia is the eighth planet from the crimson sun. It is named for the goddess of dreams and the subconscious. It is called home by the Sangorrian race.

The Sangorrian continent is the largest mass of land on the planet Ebonnia. The founding race and the ruling body on the planet are the Sangorrians . They were once known as blood hunters and after centuries of trial and hardship have evolved to become the civilized, ruling body on Ebonnia. There are fourteen houses encompassing the ruling houses who thrive on the continent--seven matriarchal houses in the Aurora Valley and seven patriarchal houses in the Darlinean Mountains, each one named for one of the original settlers who fled to this star system seeking protection from annihilation. Virgin Blood deals specifically with two of the ruling houses--The House of Leah in the Aurora Valley, and the House of Favion in the Darlinean Mountains.

Virgin Blood is an erotic romance, it is a love story, it is dark fantasy, it is a story of a people whose hard-fought way of life is about to be ripped apart.

Wow. There are many layers to VIRGIN BLOOD, and as each layer is revealed, more is learned about the Sangorrian race and the individuals who populate the story. -- RRT Erotic

Virgin Blood. Katriel Saguna is heir to the House of Leah, descendant of an ancient predatory race once labeled bloodhunters. Centuries of vigilance have culminated in a guarded, civilized society able to trade peacefully with other worlds without fear of annihilation. Ingestion of blood is still a requirement for Sangorrians such as Katriel--dragon's blood being the main source for youth and unattached Sangorrians. Without it they would die.

The time has come for Katriel to bond with an offworlder--the Primary Alpha chosen by her mother. His will be the only human blood she will ingest. He will become her partner, her protector, her lover--and her source of life. Mating with him and consuming his human blood will also bring her into her full powers--something she desperately needs for her own protection, but loving him was not something she had anticipated.

But unexpected danger awaits on Ebonnia as a power-hungry, devious bloodsucker of another mutated species seeks to gain control and uses insidious methods to shackle the Sangorrian nature to his will. The civilized society Katriel has always known is about to be torn apart. Will Valyn be able to protect her or is he already too late?

Adrianna Dane is a master at world building and what she's created with Zytarri 1: Virgin Blood is phenomenal. -- TwoLips Reviews

Read an excerpt at: http://www.adriannadane.com/zytarri1-virginblood.html

Purchase Link: http://www.loose-id.com/detail.aspx?ID=329

Read more about Zytarri: http://www.zytarri.com

View the Video trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43HXsich8P0

Fantastic! Riveting! Are just two words that this reviewer can categorically say about this book. -- Fallen Angel Reviews

Read excerpts from more reviews at my website.

Zytarri 1: Virgin Blood

a 2006 Dream Realm Finalist and a Romantic Times July 2007 Top Pick!!

--
Adrianna
"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"

Latest Podcast Now Available - Excerpt of If You Dare...

2007-10-19T07:02:00.000-07:00

"If You Dare..." has that mysterious, dark, edgy quality featuring an attractive alpha male that is so delicious to read, particularly this time of year. Julian is that dominating, fantasy hero who seduces Rachel with a touch, a mesmerizing look, and body language that positively drips with sexuality. How could any woman resist, particularly at the stroke of midnight on All Hallow's Eve...

I envision you curled up in bed, on a bewitching dark and stormy night, reading this story, the only light in the room emanates from the ebook reader backlight and flickering, scented candles burning, your black cat curled next to you, a glass of chilled white wine on the table beside you, and a small, silverplated bowl of decadent dark chocolate resting next to the glass.

Suddenly, from the darkness, a naked male body rises up and turns toward you, his muscular chest covered in dark curling hair mere inches away. You feel a warm hand reach over to nestle at the juncture of your slick thighs and your heart stops beating for a fraction of an instant as those very strong fingers knead your pliant flesh.

You glance over at the shadowed outline of the man lying next to you. A gleam of white teeth, a glitter of intent in his emerald green eyes as his fingers begin to dance across your skin and he inches closer and closer, sending a burning hot blade of desire burrowing deep inside...

You look for your cat who was lying right beside you, but find he has disappeared. The man in your bed presses his moist lips to your sensitive earlobe. He nips playfully and you find it difficult to concentrate as spirals of pleasure undulate through your body. How can you possibly think of anything but the gorgeous male you have conjured to your bed?

You feel his moist breath tickle your ear, you feel his hand travel up your body, beneath your nighshirt....

"Read to me, love," he whispers in a deeply sexy voice, almost a purr, as his nimble fingers play your body like a fine instrument.

You think this erotic story is just the right length to drizzle a little steamy foreplay into what is bound to be a very satisfying night. How can you resist?

If you dare...

Keeping with the Halloween theme this month, this week listen to an excerpt from "If You Dare..." now available from Amber Heat.

Adrianna Dane, Author of Sensual and Erotic Romance

Passionate stories with adventurous heart...

If You Dare... (an adult contemporary erotic excerpt)

Purchase Link for If You Dare...: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/IfYouDare.html

Enjoy!

Adrianna

New Podcast Excerpt Now Available for Fearfully Delicious

2007-10-05T07:57:00.000-07:00

My latest weekly podcast excerpt is now available. This month I'll be focusing on my darker, steamy stories, several of which take place around Halloween. To start out the month I've posted an excerpt from Fearfully Delicious, now available at Phaze.com.

Enjoy!

Adrianna Dane, Author of Sensual and Erotic Romance
Passionate stories with adventurous heart...

He knows what she needs...what she fears...what she desires...

Podcast excerpt: Fearfully Delicious (a contemporary erotic excerpt) (http://adriannadane.podOmatic.com/entry/eg/2007-10-05T06_22_07-07_00)

Phaze Purchase Link: http://www.king-cart.com/cgi-bin/cart.cgi?store=Phaze&product=Fearfully+Delicious+by+Adrianna+Dane

Fictionwise Purchase Link: http://www.fictionwise.com/ebooks/eBook40177.htm

Author Website: http://www.adriannadane.com

View the Video Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2yYmlMvkwpQ

READ AN EXPLICIT EXCERPT AT:

http://www.adriannadane.com/fearfullydelicious.html

REVIEWS:

5 Stars!! ...For so short a story, Fearfully Delicious is fabulous. As the tale begins, Ms. Dane brings us characters you feel like you already know, which is essential when dealing with limited pages. ... Not only did she provide characters to cherish, she managed to have a plot and some steamy sex scenes. ... Fearfully Delicious was a joy to read and I gladly recommend others to pick it up. You will not be disappointed... --Suni Farrar, JERR

4 1/2 Stars!! ...Fearfully Delicious describes this book completely. This short story quickly whets your appetite and definitely delivers a feast for your enjoyment. Although short, Ms. Dane does a wonderful job introducing the characters and their feelings. ... Needless to say, I enjoyed this sizzling story of two people in love with a little bit of fearful suspense thrown in for good measure... --Trang, Ecataromance.com

Adrianna

New Excerpt Podcast Now Available - The Exile: A Seductive Tale

2007-09-29T06:43:00.000-07:00

The Exile: A Seductive Tale by Adrianna Dane
Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/SeductiveTale.html
Author Website: http://www.adriannadane.com

Title: Adrianna Dane, Author of Sensual and Erotic Romance

Episode: The Exile: A Seductive Tale (gay erotic fantasy story excerpt)
http://adriannadane.podOmatic.com/entry/eg/2007-09-29T06_19_54-07_00

SYNOPSIS:

Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl. An island known as the Isle of Men, a place where passion among men is the rule—the only rule.. Linus Masterson, once a powerful man of authority, has left the isolated, mystical Isle of Men to return to mainland life. He left Mannos because of love and desire for one man, an initiate, he couldn't truly possess, but now he meets another man who reminds him of the object of his desire from paradise. Sam, a young, attractive waiter, wearing the double pearl earring, marking him a mainland member of the Brotherhood of the Midnight Pearl draws his heated attention. Sam's a man meant for pleasure and Linus is determined to show him how good it can be at the hands of an immortal, experienced authoritarian. Linus can only hope that in the arms of his new lover he will return to the paradise he had thought forever lost.

Visit http://www.midnight-pearl.com for more erotic stories related to A Seductive Tale.

Have a great day.

Adrianna

Podcast of Jebediah's Promise Now Available

2007-09-14T08:22:00.000-07:00

This week's chapter excerpt podcast is now available. Listen to the complete first chapter of Jebediah's Promise.

Title: Adrianna Dane, Author of Sensual and Erotic Romance
Episode: Jebediah's Promise

http://adriannadane.podOmatic.com/entry/eg/2007-09-14T08_14_57-07_00

Captain Jebediah Holliday is a soldier who serves his country with pride and holds the heart of his wife Trudy, keeping him strong. Deducation to duty requires strength and commitment in separation for both Jeb and Trudy. Jeb's pledge to do his duty and return to Trudy safely is jeopardized when he is taken hostage on a routine mission. Trudy has faith that Jeb will return home to her, keeping his promise. A hero's face and courage comes in many guises.

Purchase the complete story at Amber Heat.

Have a great weekend!

Adrianna

A New Podcast for MacDougal's Rule

2007-09-07T07:38:00.001-07:00

Hey, it's Friday! Yeah...

I've just posted a new podcast. This excerpt is from MacDougal's Rule available from Phaze.com.

Adrianna Dane, Author of Sensual and Erotic Romance

Passionate stories with adventurous heart...

MacDougal's Rule (an erotic story excerpt)

Mix one hot summer night with a little cold water. Add one determined, sensual woman and a hard man with an iron-clad rule–and watch the steam rise...

Enjoy and have a great weekend!

Adrianna

Postcasting and Blogging This Week

2007-08-31T06:39:00.000-07:00

I've added a new chapter excerpt podcast this week. This one is for my historical erotic romance "The Diary of Lillian Manchester: The Stranger." This story is now available at Amber Quill Press (www.amberheat.com).

Slade McCord, scarred by his past, arrives in the Arizona Territory on a mission. Lillian Manchester recognizes him as the only man to tame her restless, wildfire heart. His secret objective and his inability to trust could jeopardize not only their lives, but Slade's last chance for salvation.

Also this week, I was blogging at the Servants of the Muse blog. Find out what I had to say about "Breaking Down, the Muse, and Me." Such are the joys, and inspiration, of owning a car, and having a fertile imagination.

Adrianna

An excerpt from The Midas Bride (explicit)

2007-08-28T13:04:00.001-07:00

Title: The Midas Bride
Author: Adrianna Dane

Purchase Link: http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/MidasBride.html
Author URL: http://www.adriannadane.com
Publisher: Amber Quill Press/Amber Heat

ISBN: 978-1-60272-097-8

Cover Art by Trace Edward Zaber

SYNOPSIS:

Once upon a time there was a modern woman who wasn't looking for prince charming. Not anymore. But there was indeed a prince who needed to find his princess bride or suffer the full effects of the curse brought down upon his family. He tossed a magic coin out into the world in hopes of finding his true soul mate–the one woman who could tame the beast inside his soul and halt the curse. Only her love could save him. But will a greedy witch find her first and destroy his one chance at happiness?

Excerpt:

This was the first he had seen his bride—a photo of her naked and bound to a bed.

Anger burned inside him. Had it been Darth who touched his bride, or the witch? A red haze blurred his vision. He wanted to rip out their hearts for doing this to her. It was not the way it should have been. He had meant to woo his bride, to show her the human side of himself before unveiling the secrets. He wanted her to love him before he revealed his true self. It was not fair to have brought her to this. She would be frightened when she discovered the truth. She would be angry.

It should have been different and he would make them pay for what they had done to her. The photograph showed her bound and spread out on a bed. They'd undressed her and she lay there naked and exposed. He felt the rage building like a tornado, gathering speed as it gripped him. The beast would overtake him if he wasn't careful.

Maybe that's what they wanted.

This was his woman they had misused. And they would pay dearly for having dared to touch her. He picked up the scrap of blouse that had also been enclosed in the envelope from the desk and lifted it to his face, inhaling her scent. His cock thickened, needy to claim her, to mark her as his.

They would have their map, damn them, though it would do them no good. Having the touch was not something these greedy kidnappers would be prepared for. Maybe it's exactly what they deserved.

He walked to the other side of the room and opened the ornate box, removing an ancient rolled-up map tied with a strip of rawhide. He had sent for it yesterday, as soon as he received the envelope. Their possession of the map would not bring them what they expected. By the time he returned to his home with his bride, Darth and Moreen would have met their fate. They would get everything they deserved for eternity. If they wanted the location of the river they would have it and everything it entailed.

He inserted the map into the inside pocket of his tan suede jacket. He turned back to the desk and picked up the photograph, gazing down at it. Her long hair lay in disarray trailing over the pillow. Her body was lush and ripe, not thin and gaunt as was the fashion. Her mouth, even in repose was sensuously inviting. Her long legs looked silky and he ached to stroke them, to be certain she was real.

He crumpled the picture in his fist. They had touched her, violated his woman, his bride. He felt the change beginning to assert itself. If he allowed it to consume him now, he would never regain control in time to make the exchange. His need for her was too great. If he allowed anything to happen to her, there would never be another to take her place.

He flung the crumpled photograph across the room, whirled around and stalked out the doorway, hurrying toward the elevator and down to the car waiting in front of the hotel. The chauffeur quickly came around to open the door of the sleek car for him. Lyon shook his head.

"No, I'm driving myself."

Adrianna

The Lydian Lion and Temptation's Price

2007-08-24T11:38:00.000-07:00

A while back I was doing some research about coins and I came across an interesting article entitled "A Case for the World's First Coin: The Lydian Lion." Now I don't know about you, but just the name of the coin yelled SHAPESHIFTER!! to me. The more I read about the coin and its fascinating history, the more intrigued I became.

The Lydian Lion, according to this article, preceded ancient Greek coinage which is apparently the basis for all Western coinage. It is thought that these coins were first used by the government and were minted in electrum, an alloy of gold and silver. This first coinage wasn't used in the same manner that currency is used in transactions today, and in fact, may very well have been used for strictly government/official business and controlled by the ruling body, possibly offered as gifts in treaty ceremonies, wedding presents, etc.

So I see wedding presents, and I think "bride price." Oh, but it has ended up being so much more than that...after all, my coin, is a MAGICAL coin.

Bits and pieces from the history revealed in this article is what led to my creation of the myth surround The Midas Bride. It really is exciting to research--one of my favorite parts of story writing. And then I love twisting it around and reshaping, and embellishing, and...

So, guess what? This weekend the Temptation's Price AmberPax is scheduled for release. I'm pretty excited about it. We've created a new video trailer for this collection and you can view it at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPQX4qmcX2Q

I so enjoyed writing "The Midas Bride" and creating its underlying mythical basis which involves King Croesus and King Midas. I'm pleased that I came across that article and which has led to my story and just sort of took off from there with a "what if." It's a bit of an erotic shapeshifting fairytale involving a magical coin (not exactly THE coin). Watch for another of my Midian white lion shapeshifters in an upcoming story.

Enjoy your weekend!

Adrianna

This Week's Podcast: Sea Sentinel, Ep. 1: From the Waters

2007-08-17T06:58:00.000-07:00

I've just broadcast the first chapter excerpt from Sea Sentinel, Ep. 1: From the Waters.

Here's a little about this story:

Elana Del Rio witnessed something that almost killed her. Until, alone in the middle of the ocean, something unknown, only whispered about, rescued her. Half man-half creature, all primitive lover, he breathed life back into her and claimed her in the most primitive, life-affirming sexual encounter she had ever experienced. She had heard rumors of a being who guarded the seas from man-made dangers and destruction and thought it a myth. He was known as the Sea Sentinel and his powers far surpassed any of those known to mortal man.

Listen and/or download this free chapter and others at: http://adriannadane.podomatic.com/

Have a great weekend!

Adrianna

A Change in the Air

2007-08-07T07:06:00.000-07:00

I was standing outside this morning and it was around six a.m. I was waiting for Mikala to finish investigating and I was sipping at my first cup of coffee for the day. I could sense the subtle change in temperature and could feel the pull of autumn just beginning to awaken.

The fall is my favorite time of year. We've lived on the East Coast and now the West Coast and what I love best is the change of seasons. Sometimes we ease quietly one into the other, and sometimes it's a quick burst. But no matter what way it happens, I love to watch the changes around me.

I live in a fairly rural part of the state and I walk out to the backyard where the blackberry bushes, in all their thorny glory, grow and a field beyond that, leading into a forest at the back, and farmland beyond that. So I get a good glimpse as the vivd rust and golden colors of fall begin to erupt and the brisk change in temperature begins to alter. I can smell and taste and see the changes taking place in the land. When I begin to hear the call of the geese as they fly overhead, leaving us for the winter, then I'll know fall has truly arrived in my part of the world.

In some ways the land is preparing for hibernation and I'm just waking up. I always have been a bit contrary.

I find that many of the stories I write take place in late summer and early fall. Several of the stories in my latest anthology, "Esmerelda's Lovers," take place in that time of year.

There's just something about the air in autumn. The clean briskness wakes you up, makes you more aware of what's around you. It's why I've always enjoyed living in areas of the country that court the four seasons clearly. Each one has a uniqueness all it's own. I guess we all have our favorites. Which season stirs the romance in your soul? Makes you feel more alive?

Adrianna

Tempt Me Not - an excerpt from my latest release

2007-08-02T14:04:00.000-07:00

Title: Tempt Me Not
Author: Adrianna Dane
Publisher Purchase Link: TemptMeNot
Author Website: Adrianna Dane Website
ISBN: 978-1-60272-087-9

Blurb:

In a moment of weakness and bad choice, Diantha made a deal with a seductive demon. Zacchias wants something from Diantha that she's unwilling to give. Asher has also made a deal with Zacchias. If Diantha breaks her contract by making love with Asher, she will lose her soul. If she does as Zacchias wants, she could lose much more, including a love she has only just discovered. Scorched by the seductive flame of temptation, love will find a way.

Excerpt:

“I want him, but I can’t have him. The temptation is too much,” she whispered as she opened the drawer and pulled out the dildo she’d used infrequently since her arrival at Zacchias’s stronghold. But Asher Smith drew feelings and desires from deep within her that she long thought were dead and buried. Her body now told her that they weren’t and she needed to do something before she lost control.

There was no relief of daylight here, only the thick, clinging blackness of night, a suitable home for a twisted demon. It was his job to tempt, and he embraced his role with enthusiasm and devilish delight.

Diantha climbed onto the bed and spread her legs, pressing the instrument of pleasure against her wet opening. She leaned back and closed her eyes as she pressed inward, her greedy lips separating and accepting the phallus into her body.

Tonight, for the first time, she’d met Zacchias’s latest mortal acquisition—Asher Smith. One look and her heart had pumped faster than a speeding train heading toward collision. She knew he was the temptation she might be unable to resist.

Using her other hand, she swirled a finger over her clit, driving herself toward oblivion, away from this room. She imagined it was Asher’s cock burrowing deep and she arched and pressed deeper, gasping at the penetration.

He came from her world and still retained his soul. Like her. Dressed in a black tuxedo and pristine white shirt, he’d entered the dining hall accompanied by Zacchias, a soulless woman clinging to each arm.

Diantha studied him from her relaxed position seated in a leopard-patterned armchair situated next to the fireplace. A mantel overpainted with scenes of gigantic, predatory, mythical beasts overpowered the room, standing guard. Waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Just like Zacchias. It was a room she had come to hate. Just like Zacchias.

Presentiment spilled over her as it seemed she gazed into the eyes of her destruction. Rising from the overstuffed chair, she sauntered across the room to greet Zacchias with a kiss to his smooth, chiseled jaw.

“Welcome back,” she murmured. Then her gaze turned to the man and she studied him closely. He was probably not much older than herself, perhaps in his mid thirties. “I see you’ve brought someone with you.”

The women were touching him, sliding their hands over the silky smoothness of the jacket he wore, rubbing against him. One of them inched her hand below to cup the front of his trousers, smiling up at him lasciviously.

“Enough, ladies,” Zacchias commanded. “Leave us.”

The women pouted but did as he asked, slinking out of the room, leaving the three of them alone, silently surveying each other.

Zacchias reached for her arm, linking it through his own, and they moved back into the main part of the dining room.

“Pour us a couple of drinks, my dear.” He walked toward the striped, black and white settee on the opposite side of the fireplace.

Diantha poured whiskey into two etched glasses and tracked across the room to hand them their drinks. First she offered Zacchias his drink and then she turned to the other man. Their fingers touched briefly as he reached for it, and she inhaled sharply at the connection.

“You like him,” Zacchias purred softly from behind her. She straightened and turned toward him, smoothing her expression. She knew better than to expose her thoughts to him.

He was staring at her, studying her reactions. He raised the glass into the air. “To new associations. May they lead to fruitful endeavors.”

Adrianna
"Passionate stories with adventurous heart"
www.adriannadane.com
www.midnight-pearl.com
www.myspace.com/adriannadane

New Podcast for Ruthless Acts

2007-07-27T07:01:00.000-07:00

I've posted the podcast for an excerpt from Ruthless Acts this morning. You can listen or download it at Adrianna's Broadcasts.

Elizabeth Anthony and Isandro Santario are two people who should never have met, should never have loved. But in Esmerelda, anything is possible.

This story is now available at Amber Heat, the erotic imprint of Amber Quill Press.

Ruthless Acts is also available in the "Esmerelda's Lovers" anthology of erotic stories, now available in paperback at Amazon.com

Have a great day!

Adrianna

About Faeries and Podcasting

2007-07-24T06:49:00.000-07:00

I was away this weekend attending the Faerieworlds Festival in Veneta, Oregon. That was fun and I've got some pictures up, if you'd like to see them. Here's the link:
2007 Faerieworlds Festival Pix. I will be blogging a bit about the festival.

Also, on Friday, just before I left, I broadcast my latest excerpt from Graphic Liaisons. You can listen to it, or download it at: Adrianna's Podcasts

It was interesting as I went to check out my podcast site this morning to find that on the front page of podomatic.com, my podcast was listed there among the most active podcasts today. I don't know how long it will stay there, but it was pretty cool to see this morning. Currently, you can listen to podcasts of chapter excerpts from "The Boy Next Door," "Sylvie's Gift," "Nights in White Satin," "No Choice," and "Graphic Liaisons." I'll be broadcasting a new excerpt on Friday.

The other great thing about this weekend was the release of my latest story from Amber Heat, "Tempt Me Not" which is an erotic dark fantasy. Read a short excerpt and/or purchase it at: Tempt Me Not.

Hope your week is starting out to be a great one. :-)

Adrianna

New Podcast for No Choice Excerpt Now Available

2007-07-15T08:16:00.000-07:00

This week's broadcast is the opening excerpt from my erotic menage short story "No Choice."

No Choice is also currently available in my paperback erotic anthology, "Carnal Carnivale" now available at Amazon.

http://www.adriannadane.podomatic.com

Title: Adrianna Dane, Author of Sensual and Erotic Romance
Episode: No Choice (an erotic story excerpt)
http://adriannadane.podOmatic.com/entry/eg/2007-07-13T06_46_47-07_00

Enjoy!

Adrianna