Showing posts with label ebooks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ebooks. Show all posts

Monday, December 31, 2007

The Erotic Ritual of Recreational Reading

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what's your ritual?

Happy reading,

Adrianna

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Tempt Me Not - an excerpt from my latest release


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

Friday, July 06, 2007

A new podcast for Nights in White Satin


Each week I post a new first chapter story excerpt. Here's where you can find them. Or check my profile at myspace.


Title: Adrianna Dane, Author of Sensual and Erotic Romance
Episode: Nights in White Satin (an erotic excerpt)

Adrianna's Podcast

Enjoy and have a great weekend!

Adrianna