New Release, "Love Me Tonight" and a chance to win 5 stories...

“Love Me Tonight” is included the newest AmberPax Collection from Amber Allure, “No Tell Motel.” My contribution to the Pax is a tasty little story about a secret assignation at a seedy little motel. Here’s a little bit about this steamy story.

Title: Love Me Tonight

Author: Adrianna Dane

Click to Purchase or Find out More

Genres: Gay/Contemporary

Adrianna Dane Website

Amber Quill Press/Amber Allure

ISBN: 978-1-61124-517-2 (Electronic)

Blurb:

At Hotel Draysden, management fraternizing with staff is a no-no. Casper Rosabella knows the rules, but he also believes that sometimes rules were meant to be broken. Sometimes it was worth taking a risk, especially when the man Casper craves is as hot as Lando Madrid.

Eye contact leads to a need to experience more, and through phone calls and texting, the men start to learn about each other. But then the lines blur when Casper and Lando make arrangements to meet for one night of unfettered sex in a seedy motel room, when taboo passions will culminate between two men who work at the same place, but certainly shouldn’t play together.

With secrets shared and desires revealed, the men are drawn deeper into a burning need to know more about each other. But considering their situation, could the relationship become something other than just a one-night stand?

Excerpt:

"You decided to come," Casper said.

Stepping farther into the room, the door slamming shut behind him, Lando efficiently blocked out the rest of the world. And now, at last, it was just the two of them. Lando smelled of fine, clean things. Casper inhaled sharply. Musk, maybe some vanilla, earthy sandalwood perhaps. The mix of scents was intoxicating. Lando gave Casper the shadow of a smile as his gaze rode over him assessingly.

"Your invitation intrigued me."

"Do you get a lot of propositions like this?" Casper couldn't help asking the question.

Lando shrugged. "In my position, I get a few. Usually from women. It took a lot of guts to approach me the way you did. I admire that in a man. But are you certain you know what you're asking for?"

"I've asked around. Discreetly, of course. As far as I can tell no rumors of rudeness or disrespect or otherwise. Most of the people I spoke with have the greatest respect for you, at all levels, and that's not easy to do. I've been watching you for the last year."

"Watching me?" Lando asked a little sharply.

"Not the way you think. We can't help but stumble across each other on occasion, you know. But it wasn't until I saw you in the Cascade Bar that I thought maybe... Well, until then, I didn't know you were gay, so all I allowed myself to do was... Well, enjoy the view so to speak. But when I saw you in the bar, then I knew. You keep your private life very close, don't you?"

"I guard my personal life. It's nobody's business." He shrugged. "What I like, who I like, and how I like it is my business. No one else's. And I expect my privacy to remain that way."

"Yet, you're here. Do you trust me to keep your secrets?"

Lando circled the room. He studied the candles, the new sheets on the bed, then he turned back to Casper. "I don't know yet. But I've asked around about you, too."

"We don't travel in the same circles."

"No, we don't. I'd bet we grew up differently as well. I'll bet you went to private schools and expensive universities. I went to public school and just barely stayed out of the gangs. But, when it comes down to it, in a place like this, we level the playing field, sí?

Casper licked his lips. He was so ready for the games to begin. "But I bet we have similar dreams, similar fantasies. Or we wouldn't be here, would we?" Casper paused. Lando remained silent. "No promises," Casper finally said.

"None," Lando agreed. "No strings attached."

"No strings," Casper echoed.

Casper took several steps toward Lando. Casper's cock was already hard. He reached out, but, like a striking viper, Lando grabbed his wrist and stopped Casper from touching him. The grip was not so punishing, but Lando certainly made Casper aware of who had the control. "Have you done this before?" Lando asked.

"No. Not in a long time," Casper responded, not fighting the firm grip on his wrist.

Lando glanced at the bed. "You did as I requested."

"Yes. Do you like them?"

Lando released Casper's wrist and walked over to the bed. He ran his hands across the sheets. "Very nice." He checked the corners on the bed. "I am impressed. Perfect corners. I wouldn't have expected a man like you to make your own bed so well."

"I possess a certain skill. My father was in the military and he was a bit of a taskmaster about certain things. If the corners weren't right, he had a habit of ripping all the bedding off and making me do it again. Maybe you don't know as much about me as you think you do."

"He sounds harsh," Lando said. "Any brothers or sisters?"

"No. Just me." He hesitated for just a fraction of a second. "I had a younger brother, but he died when he was two. A blood disease. My mother wouldn't agree to more children after that." Another one of those silences. Lando stared off toward the curtained window. "And you?" Casper asked in order to fill the void.

"Five sisters, one brother."

"Where do you fit in the line-up? I always wanted to be part of a large family."

"It's not as much fun as you might think. Especially when you know you're different. You learn to keep certain things to yourself. I was the oldest, my brother was the youngest, with the girls in the middle. Like bookends who have to shore up the middle."

"Do your parents live in Seattle?" Casper asked.

"No." That was it. Lando turned back to face him. Again, that blue-eyed look that scanned Casper from head to foot. And then his gaze fastened on Casper's crotch. He sat on the side of the bed.

"Pull off my boots. I want to get comfortable. And then I want you to strip for me. And then once you're bare, I want you to bring me a glass of wine. And when you bring it to me, I want you to kneel in front of me. Think you can handle that?"

Casper's pulse quickened. "Y-yes. I can do that." Just by the list of demands Lando had texted him, Casper had developed a sense of Lando's likes, as well as his desire for dominance. Casper might have called a halt to this dalliance right then and there, but he hadn't. In fact, the whole thing had excited him.

Now about that contest...

Keeping in mind that a red car isn’t always simply a red car that looks pretty on the cover, today at the AmberPax blog I'm blogging about what's under the hood, discussing my latest release, "Love Me Tonight," from Amber Allure, and digging deep inside not just the characters, not just locations, but objects and symbolism as well. Stop by and comment, be entered to win a copy of the AmberPax Collection, "No Tell Motel," which includes 5 stories written by 5 different authors: Vivien Dean, Heidi Champa, L.A. Witt, Rick R. Reed...and me. http://amberpax.blogspot.com/2013/11/its-whats-under-hood-that-countsby.html.

Erotic Romantic Domination - Daimaen & Sylvie's Story

Erotic Romantic Domination - Daimaen & Sylvie's Story

This is not a new story, it's ancient as love and sex, as primal and soul-deep as any passion may run. Would you call it animal magnetism? Animal attraction? That primitive recognition of one mate for another, undeniably drawn one to the other - even in modern society, sometimes it can't be ignored.

Desire, romance, love, and secret fantasy aren't always found where we expect. It isn't always politically correct, it's certainly not polite. It's mot always safe.

A powerful, dominating man is a forced to be reckoned with. Some might run in the other direction. And then some will step forward into a world where they have never gone before.

Sexual charisma can blindside so swiftly and completely it takes one's breath away.  But just because a woman may not be experienced, doesn't mean she's necessarily a pushover either. Take Sylvie, which Daimaen certain wants to do, though usually a very caution and controlled sort of woman, may have finally met a man who can reach right into her soul, and draw out the woman within, that secret woman she has always yearned to be. She may be one who is his perfect mate--his perfect submissive. Sylvie has kept control all her life--be it in business, be it during sex, be it her past, or her future. Taking one small risk, may change everything. Sylvie has a gift to give, is Daimaen the right man to receive it?

Sylvie's Gift


Blurb:

Sylvie Taylor has never experienced sexual fulfillment, never felt uncontrolled desire. Her best friend, Allison Hunter, has kept secret her taste for the dark side of passion. Introducing Sylvie to sensually seductive Daimaen Sinclair, a Master of the game, has Sylvie yearning for the forbidden. But someone has made an attempt on Sylvie's life. Can Daimaen protect her, or is he the reason someone wants her dead?

Reviews:

Ms. Dane's story Sylvie's Gift isn't one of the normal BDSM stories. If you're looking for a loving, erotic tale of two people with a mystery thrown in, then grab this one. --Fallen Angel Reviews


 Sylvie's Gift is not for the faint of heart. It's very hot and well written, with good characters, but the main sexual theme of submission is not for everyone. Readers who don't mind their sex on the kinky side will definitely enjoy Dane's offering. --Romantic Times BOOKClub Magazine


Sex, power, and complete control are a few ways to describe this hot number. ...Sylvie's Gift is a powerfully hot book.  --The Buzz

I needed several glasses of ice water to make it through Ms. Dane's novel. --Coffee Time Romance

Excerpt:

Sylvie was nervous and paced the living room floor, her stomach churning. What she had read on the Internet scared her to death. Of course, she was always one to assume the worst.

A knock at the door caused her to jump. She swallowed hard, then walked to the door and opened it.

Very male, very dark, very…arousing. He was dressed in white Dockers and a navy blue polo shirt that set his caramel tan off to perfection. Damn, he looked good enough to eat. Her heart pounded in anticipation. The memory of her Internet search was fading fast.  His eyes slowly surveyed her from her feet to her head. Each nerve
in her body reacted as those rich dark-brown eyes slid upward. Her hands clenched and unclenched. She felt naked beneath their intensity, or maybe it was just the way the cloth of her sundress rubbed against
her sensitive nipples.

He hesitated at her breasts. Her breathing increased and her nipples beaded. She felt them swell, as though demanding to be touched.  Sylvie saw an appreciative golden gleam in his eyes and a smile curved those sensuous well-shaped lips. What she wouldn’t do right now to feel their touch on her body.

“You look beautiful, Sylvie. Quite lovely. Are you ready to go?”

She couldn’t get her voice to work, so she just nodded. She turned and grabbed her purse and a white cardigan to wear over the floral yellow-print sundress.

She cleared her throat. “I don’t know where we’re going—is there anything else I should be bringing? Different shoes, a heavier jacket?”  She was trying to get him to tell her what their destination was.

“I’ll take care of everything. You only need to bring yourself.” He stood aside for her to precede him out the door.

Well, that didn’t get her far. She still didn’t know where they were going.

As she walked past him, he stopped her with a light hand to her forearm. His fingertips trailed a lazy path from her shoulder to her fingertips and she shivered.

She looked up at him, knowing there was uncertainty in her eyes, and most likely, some fear. “This scares me, you know. I think I’m out of my depth here. I get the feeling you’re way out of my league.”

He curved his arm around her waist and guided her to the bank of elevators. “Nothing is going to happen that you won’t like. I only want to give you pleasure. Today we’ll just get to know each other better.  You’ll enjoy it, believe me. Think of it as a little adventure, someplace you’ve never been before. You like discovering new places, don’t you?  Finding a new restaurant is always fun. Discovering new tastes you
didn’t know you’d like, that’s enjoyable, isn’t it?”

Sylvie nodded her head. “Yes, but I somehow don’t think this is the same thing.”

They stepped into the elevator. He tapped the garage level button to take them down, and the shiny silver doors closed. Daimaen turned to her, his heated gaze fusing her to him.

“Do you know how much I want to have you naked right here, right now? I wonder what you’d do if I asked you to strip?”

She was surprised by the jolt of excitement that shot through her at the thought of exposing herself in such a public place. She saw it in her mind, just a flash that made her wet. The hooded, lazy look in his eyes as he studied her seemed as though he knew what the thought of such an exhibition was doing to her.

Daimaen’s fingers caressed her arms, shivers ran through her. She held her breath as he ran one warm, thick finger along the inside edge of her halter style top, tracing from her collar bone to the dip between her breasts. “No,” he murmured, a small smile on his lips. “Not today.  Another time, maybe.” He removed his finger and turned away from her as the doors to the elevator slid open and he guided her toward his car.

If you like Sylvie's Gift, be sure to check out Sequestered Passion.

Delicious Sinn - Coming soon as an original free ebook on Goodreads

Hello All,

Are you ready for summer? I sure am. I actually got some seedlings to sprout. Spent some time yesterday transferring the tomatoes and basil to larger pots. So far they've survived the transplant. Keep your fingers crossed because I so have a brown thumb. Soon, hope to be transferring the lavender, rosemary, sweet peppers, and oregano.Yikes! I am so out of my element here.

So how about some steamy summer reading?

I'm taking part in a huge gala writing, and reading, event courtesy of the M/M Romance Group on Goodreads ,called "Love Is Always Write." There will be 149 free stories written by a broad spectrum of authors available for download throughout the coming 2 1/2 months. My story, "Delicious Sinn" will be one of those books. This isn't a "sip" sort of story, it's 30,000 words so fully realized. "Delicious Sinn" will be available to download in a number of popular e-reader formats. Boy, was I inspired by the imagery and reader prompt. Delicious. :-)

Here's a little bit about my story for this event.

Blurb

Two men, born with a Montana-bred sense of adventure. Neither stays, both leave to make their fortune. Each walked a different line, made different choices. Both ended up in Seattle. One a jaded and scarred rocker with no dreams left; the other a young photo journalist who has a gift for dealing with wild things.

Both men have secrets. But one night's chance encounter in a Seattle nightclub, will likely change their lives forever....

Join the M/M Romance Group on Goodreads to see the photo and reader prompt that fueled "Delicious Sinn."

To join the GR M/M Romance Group follow this link:  http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/20149-m-m-romance

To check out the prompt and photo to discover the inspiration behind the story:: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/809235-dear-author-azalea-chosen-by-adrianna-dane

Here's a small taste of "Delicious Sinn."

Excerpt for Delicious Sinn

Will took another sip of his beer, leaned against the bar, and watched the dancers gyrating on the dance floor. His sights were fixed to the tall blond with the wild, naturally curly hair, more wave than tight curl. There was an intensity about him. His black T-shirt, darkened and drenched with sweat, clung to his tightly-packed chest. Black leather pants settled close to lean hips, hugged his richly-muscled thighs, enhancing every nuance of swivel, screw, and thrust. Every flex of his tight ass as he whirled on the dance floor, drew hungry, covetous eyes from more than one corner of the nightclub.

Will was a patient man, perhaps more so than most. He'd waited this long, a few more hours wouldn’t hurt. The cold draft soothed his parched throat. His gaze circled the club, studied the occupants, then returned to the dance floor. Laced leather thongs encircled the rocker’s bulging biceps, slender whips of leather trailed free lashing, swinging with the heavy metal rhythm. A grin crossed the blond’s features as a Medusa’s Thorn tune blasted through the room; the blond’s voice–as lead vocalist screamed the lyrics. Sinn Midnite, up and coming rhythm guitarist, lead singer, songwriter.

Fuck me, beat me, you’ll never keep me. A strong bass and gut-pounding drumbeat pulsed and throbbed through the nightclub igniting the dancers.

The blond surged forward and cupped a hand around the nape of his dance partner, yanked him forward and ground his mouth against his partner's lips. The shorter, younger man was engulfed by the more assertive, tall blond. A thin reed blown, claimed, and tossed about by the fierce tornado; it gobbled him up with little compassion. Lust - dance lust - blood lust. Crushing force. The music screamed, it jarred, it incited.

No way to break me, no way to destroy me. It’ll be me killing you first.

Blinding yellow and red lights strobed across the dancers. Will remained intrigued by the potent foreplay occurring on the dance floor. The smaller man with the straggly purple and black hair was no match for the more dominant blond. The younger man easily gave way beneath the dynamic dark energy of the rocker. Will surmised there was no way for him not to break beneath the driving onslaught. The possession would be fast and it would be final.

The blond knew exactly how to play him. Or would have, if he hadn't lacked self-control. On stage, Sinn’s angry forceful immersion into music worked for him. Here, that very same passion worked against him. An instrumental genius, most certainly. But here, with this instrument in his hand–this instrument of opportunity required a steadier hand than his–a very different sort of skill.


In the meantime, while you're waiting, be sure to check out my latest releases, "Joe Gallant," and "White Lightning."

             

Read the excerpts for these stories at:

http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/JoeGallant.html
http://www.loose-id.com/White-Lightning.aspx

Object Personification, or something like that...

I have a messy office,I admit it. But, it's my mess, and I do sort of, go through it now and then. It's a cave, and one might consider it Aladdin's cave of strange and unusual objects, some of which possess magical qualities. To someone else, looking at my office, it likely would be with a sense of horror on how much...stuff or junk to them...I have crammed into such a small space. I look around and I see things that matter. Things with energy, magical, creative energy. I see them differently than what another person will see them.

Sometimes when I write, I like to have images around to inspire me. Sometimes those images end up being three-dimensional items that I pick up that I think inspire me. The first thing that inspired me to write a swan-shifter story was an small snippet of an article that I read in Renaissance Magazine. The article had to do with the discovery of a shrine or temple where it was thought that they had once worshipped swans. I was intrigued. I pulled out my trusty "Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Traditional Symbols" by J.C. Cooper, to look up the symbology for swans, as I tend to have a feeling that certain images, or totems come into one's life for a reason. So I looked up, "Swan." It says...

"Combining the two elements of air and water, the swan is the bird of life; the dawn of day; solar. It also signifies solitude and retreat and is the bird of the poet; its dying song is the poet's song; its whiteness is sincerity."

Thus the idea for a story began to emerge, and Swan's Lake was born.

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 Valliana. Managing to free herself from a brutal captor, Martine, a swanshifter, escapes through the swan arch landing in the enchanted world of Valliana...

So how does this tie in with the objects in my office? Swans--the image of that beautiful, graceful creature. I like visiting second-hand stories for inspiration. I can find some pretty cool stuff there. Hence, I have several "swans" resident in my cave. But they can't just be decorative, they do have to make themself useful, particularly once the story is completed. They have to find their place because space is limited.

I found several swan planters--small ones. One of them has become my pencilholder and sits on my desk. With that long neck, she's also agreed to collar any stray rubberbands, the sort I use for banding my index cards and such. She was sitting on a store shelf, cast out and with nowhere to go. I picked her up ran my fingers across her glossy feathers, and that long elegant neck, considered her, listened to her, and finally decided the orphaned Swann would thrive and do very nicely in my magical cave. Though she has rather an aloof sort of personality, so far, she 's made herself very useful and is a positive addition to the atmosphere.

But she didn't arrive alone. Although Swann requires center stage, on the other side of the room nests a tiny little creature--Thumbelina Swan. Thumbelina has made herself useful by holding mementos from a recent trip, of small, fluffy peacock feathers I'd gathered while in Florida. Thumbelina isn't fond of being alone, so next to her stands her guardian faerie, Blue. Blue was a gift to me from my daughter. Thumbelina displays, Blue stays nearby, within whispering distance and quite a close relationship has developed between the two. Though I can't get either of them to dust the shelf. Seems no one in the office has a passion for dusting. Even me. Oh, well. On occasion we have no choice. I tried to give them at least a once-over before photographing them. They weren't very happy with me. Blue stuck her nose in the air, hands on hips and says, "Dust particles are just important as the rest of us, you know. You're making them very angry." Yes, I could tell, as I erupted into a fit o sneezing. Enough. I swept the little goblins on their way, at least for now.

Thumbelina and Blue take their job very seriously and guard their space closely. On the other side of Thumbelina sits the blue turtle, Mozy, head reared as Mozy surveys his surroundings, reminding me to go ever forward at my own pace, doing it my own way, because that's the surest way to get to my destination. Blue reminds me that there are worlds unseen, but nevertheless they do exist, I just need to be open to seeing them. Thumbelina reminds me even the smallest, tiniest speck of an idea can grow into something momentous and glorious like Swann.

And the feathers, which came from walks on the beach early in the morning remind me to slow down, breathe deep, and look around, listen closely. There is beauty to be found in the world around me. There are ideas in every object. There's energy and stories to be told, I need to just stop and listen, and look with different eyes, be open to a new way of seeing.

My cave is filled with wondrous objects, each has a story all its own, each object within these walls means something special to me. To the outside it just looks like a mess and mix of weird stuff, to me this is where magic happens.

An excerpt from Swan's Lake.

“She is very beautiful.”

Reynaldo couldn’t look away from the view of the serene lake surrounded by the lush forests. So different from the barren fields and fallow grounds on the other side of the estate.

At one time, the lake had been just as stagnant as the dried up land. Before she came. But only the lake and the surrounding woodlands seemed to have been affected by her magical appearance.

He felt Satrius’s presence behind him, but Reynaldo was focused on the beauty of the swan who was about to take flight. He watched as her powerful wings extended and she glided across the lake, her mirror image reflected in the shimmering, clear blue water, and finally soared into the air. His gaze was glued to the arc of her neck as she stretched out, and he could almost feel the wind against his own face, the freedom of the sky as he followed the perfect symmetry of her form. He felt his soul reach out to her, yearning to soar with her.

His thoughts faltered as he felt Satrius stroke his long hair, drawing his attention back to the room. Closing his eyes, he absorbed the seductive touch. Satrius was a powerful magician and Reynaldo had summoned him to the estate in hopes that his magic would heal his land.

What he had never understood was that his own soul was much like the land, barren and rootless. He had been listless and despondent until the arrival of the magician and his entourage. Satrius had changed everything. He had touched a deep, hidden part of Reynaldo. He felt alive when he was with Satrius, saw things differently.

Reynaldo had been warned of the dangers of summoning Satrius to the estate. His magic was indeed powerful, but also very dangerous. This land was a legacy of his ancestors and he was losing it, yet he was unsure why. He needed help, desperate to restore the land to its former fertility.

Satrius promised it would be as it once was and assured Reynaldo his magic could do what needed to be accomplished given time. He wove a spell around Reynaldo—a spell steeped in dark lust that Reynaldo was unable to combat. Slowly, he was drawing him deeper and deeper into the web of passion from which he now felt no desire to break free. Yet still the land lay barren.

At least he felt something, even if it seemed he moved in a shadow world where he only came alive when driven by his sexual arousal. If Satrius could awaken something inside his dead heart, could he not also revive the land as he promised?

It was the man himself who mesmerized Reynaldo over the many months he had been ensconced at the estate. He had seduced Reynaldo until he could envision no future without Satrius being a part of it. Not only to return prosperity to the estate, but in order to convince Satrius to remain with him, he had finally agreed to act as stud to the protégé who accompanied him. Satrius had convinced him it was the best way to return prosperity quickly to the land.

Reynaldo did not love her. Truly, love played no part in any of the emotions he felt even when it came to his desire for Satrius. He was promised that as a child would grow in Belinda’s womb, so would his land again become fruitful.

There were two reasons to bed the woman. The important one for Reynaldo was that the magic he wove with her would help his land and the people who depended on him. The second was that Satrius wanted the child to train in the ways of his magic. Reynaldo had asked why he didn’t bed the woman himself if he wished an heir, but had been told Satrius was no longer able to sire children.

Reynaldo had given up a search for romantic passion and thought himself incapable of any greater emotion than that of the lust and need he felt for Satrius.

Until the appearance of the Maiden. Everything had changed since her unexpected arrival. Suddenly he was torn in his desires.

“She is not for you,” Satrius murmured from behind him. He turned Reynaldo to face him, forcing him to looking deeply into the mesmerizing emerald depths of the magician’s eyes. Satrius cupped his face and locked with his gaze, searching for his soul.

“She must have some magic to have healed the lake and the forest. I have run there, I know it has recovered. But why not the remainder of the land? That is what I cannot figure out.”

“She has not the power you think she has. She is weak. She cannot give you what you desire. Only I can do that.”

He looked into Satrius’s eyes, felt his willpower ebbing, giving over to the magician. “Yes, I know you are right.”

Satrius penetrated inside him, Reynaldo could feel the heat blazing from his presence. The lust grew to twine around him. Satrius tilted Reynaldo’s head back and studied him closely through a narrowed gaze. “Do you? She should never have been brought here. She is not of our kind. Her magic is different. You must not allow her to come between you and that which you want.”

Reynaldo felt the heat of him as he lowered his head and his lips claimed Reynaldo’s in a demanding kiss that scorched through him. He felt his cock rise thickly against his leg. Satrius held him fast with his hands and with his mind. He wanted to please the master magician. He needed him and submitted to him, even knowing Satrius used him for his own ends as well. He could not deny him—they had moved far past that point.

Satrius broke the kiss and looked deeply into his eyes once again. “You know what you must do. It is time to send the Maiden away. She and her kind are a distraction.” He stroked Reynaldo’s hair and calmness dropped over him even as his passion soared. Any thought of his desire for the light of the Maiden disappeared from his thoughts as Satrius drew him forth into the passionate darkness.

Even in bringing the maiden to the house when he had found her wounded and unconscious he had defied the will of the magician, a thing he did not often do. Something stronger had driven him and he could not fail her, even knowing Satrius might leave him because of the act of defiance. Satrius demanded obedience in all things and would accept nothing less.

“I will tell her she and the others must leave now that she is healed. I could not send her away when she was so near death.”

Satrius slipped his shirt over his head, baring his muscular chest, taunting him with his flesh. “Soon.”

Reynaldo nodded as he lowered his head to draw one of Satrius’s nipples into his mouth and sucked deeply, hands gripping the magician’s hips. He heard his sharp intake of breath. “It will please me when this is done. Her presence agitates Belinda. If you do not handle this quickly, I fear for the life of the Maiden. Do you wish her death on your hands?”

Reynaldo knew Satrius used the threat to force his hand. He knew Reynaldo was drawn to the Maiden—her magic so different from that of Satrius and Belinda. There was a freshness, a purity in the swan magic. He had tried to keep himself separate from her, but something kept drawing him back to her. His own level of magic was nothing compared to that of the swan, or Satrius. He had never exercised his inherited power, never wanted it. Until now. But between Satrius and Belinda they sapped him completely until he was totally powerless to fight their control.

He looked up into Satrius’s dark gaze. “I do not want to talk of her any longer today.” The dark, seductive magic wove its passionate spell around him. He needed the intimacy with Satrius, like one addicted to opium. His cock grew heavy with anticipation.

Winter 2012 in Washington and Environment in Story

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]

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.

Mechanical Hearts & Fairytales

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.

A Fertile Imagination - Creating the Midnight Pearl Brotherhood

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)

The Human Condition and Creating Character

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

New Release - The Horsemasters: Riding Lessons

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

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

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

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

Primal Magic: Swan's Lake by Adrianna Dane

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


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

New Paperback Anthology - Tapestry of Desire

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

Here's a little about Tapestry of Desire:

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

Included in this collection of stories by Adrianna Dane:

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

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

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

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

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

Read the reviews for these stories at my website.

Adrianna

Be Careful Where You Attach It

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adrianna