Cassandra's Birthday Celebration - Guest Author Christa Maurice

Hey ya'll! Welcome to my birthday party! My friends and I will be posting more later today, so check back and see what new fun we've got going.

Friend and author Christa Maurice is here now to share a little music with everyone and a free ebook! Read more to find out how you can get her book VICTIM OF LOVE for free today!

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Christa in Venice

Everybody’s life has a sound track. (Doesn’t it? Tell me it’s not just me.)

I have this amazing ability to get lost. Seriously, wildly, awkwardly lost. When I went to Venice, I didn’t stay in Venice (my first mistake) I stayed in a town called Mestre, just a short bus ride from Venice.

Should you ever plan to go to Venice, I suggest three things. One, stay in Venice. Two, condition for the trip because you will be doing a lot of walking and a lot of stairs. Three, waterproof shoes.

On the first day I got on the bus no problem and when I arrived in Venice I noted the bus number and parking spot and then went off to enjoy Venice. I walked and walked and walked in inadequate shoes. At one point I was headed down a sidewalk and either didn’t notice the water or didn’t think it was a big deal. It was the tide. I ended up wet to the knees in my inadequate shoes. Did I mention it was March? Cold, wet, inadequate shoes.

At the end of the day I went to catch my bus. Which bus was it? Bus two in space six! I hopped on the bus and rode back toward Mestre. Except nothing looked at all familiar. The longer I was on the bus, the less familiar the scenery got. I asked people on the bus, showing them the post card the hotel had given me with the address and a map of the neighborhood, but I was in an Italian city and the only language I speak fluently is English. The other riders were able to communicate that I was on the wrong bus and nowhere near where I needed to be. The bus driver had enough English to tell me which bus to catch after he left me off. When I got on the second bus, the driver had even less English, but he looked at my map and pointed to a spot on the floor right next to him. Then, when we got to the stop nearest my hotel on his route, he used hand gestures and the map to explain to me how to make my way back to my hotel. I was never so happy to see a hotel in my life.

And what song do you supposed was running through my head that long day as I walked around Venice and Mestre on my numb, wet feet wearing jeans that were still wet and stiff to the knees with sea water? The Proclaimers, “I Could Walk 500 Miles” because, what else would be stuck in my head? (Want to sing along? Check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84CPo4bVkMk)

What song is the story of your life?

Want to read the first book in the Rock And Roll State Of Mind series, VICTIM OF LOVE, for free? Sign up for my newsletter at http://eepurl.com/4VZuD and receive a free copy of VICTIM OF LOVE.

Website: christamaurice.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ChristaMauriceWriter/
Twitter: @christamaurice
Email: christabellemaurice@gmail.com

The Cottage Next Door by Natasha Moore

It’s tough to grasp a second chance at love when you’re holding on to the past.

Thanks to Cassandra for inviting me as her guest today to tell you about my new release, The Cottage Next Door. It's a second-chance-at-love beach romance and this morning, with the temperature only 50 degrees outside, I could use a little beach!

Blurb:

After his wife died in a car accident, bestselling author Hunter McCaffrey stopped writing—and stopped living. He’s rented a beachfront cottage to try to get his head on straight, and start the long climb up from his pit of despair.

Instead of pounding out a first draft, though, he runs the beach, drinks away his pain, and tries to ignore the vibrant woman in the cottage tucked next to his.

Still floundering months after the loss of her adventure-junkie husband, Sylvie Chase hopes some beach relaxation will help her decide what to do with the rest of her life. Instead she’s wondering what to do about her unexpected attraction to Hunter, who makes her body long for the feel of his arms around her.

As Sylvie drags Hunter back to the land of the living, soon they’re agreeing to a short fling. Just to get past their sorrow, not because it means anything. But when emotions get in the way, it’s a struggle to leave the past behind and dare to love again.

Excerpt:

“Can’t sleep?”

Sylvie started. Hunter’s disembodied voice sounded loud in the darkness. She couldn’t see a thing on the deck next door, but had to assume he was sitting in his usual deck chair. Had he heard her moan?

Her heartbeat slowed back down to normal. “No.” She held her breath, waiting for him to swear and stomp into the cottage for intruding on his want-to-be-alone time. Or make a sarcastic comment about what she’d been doing when she thought no one was there.

“This is my favorite time at the beach,” he said, surprising her with his deep, pleasant tone.

“Because you can’t see the hundreds of people around you?”

His soft chuckle surprised her even more. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Partly. But there’s something about the ocean at night. Do you hear it? Right now, this isn’t the fun-loving shore where kids splash and make sandcastles. It’s more primitive.” He was silent for a moment, and Sylvie got caught up in the roar of the waves as they crashed onto the beach. The sound pulled at her, called to her.

“Think of the hundreds of thousands of years the ocean has been pounding the sand,” he went on. “Eating away at the land, reclaiming it. Taking it back into the bowels of the deep.”

Her body heated more, even with the cooling breeze. His voice rolled over her, as powerful as the tug of the waves. She’d known there had to be more to him than that angry, bitter man she’d seen so far.

“Ashes to ashes? Dust to dust? Ocean to ocean?” she asked softly.

The waves pummeled the shore for several long moments before he replied, “Something like that.”

The words she’d been thinking slipped out easier in the darkness. “I’m sure she would want you to be happy.”

“What do you know?” he snapped, but Sylvie thought his voice contained more hurt than anger.

“I know what it’s like to roll over in the middle of the night and still be surprised to find the other side of the bed empty.”

“It’s like a kick in the gut every time.”

“Yeah.” She wrapped her arms around her knees. “I still save up things I want to tell him about my day…”

“And then remember she’s not there to share those things with anymore.”

“I have to look at pictures to remember what he looked like when he was healthy and fit and eager for the next adventure.”

“I can’t remember what she smelled like anymore.” Hunter’s voice cracked. “She had this soft scent like powder and flowers and I don’t know what, but I used to be able to smell it everywhere in our apartment. It’s gone now too.”

She nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “I used to sleep with one of Matt’s shirts and I cried all day when I realized his scent was gone.” Sylvie was pleased she could say that without getting tears in her eyes. Maybe she’d finally reached acceptance.

The Cottage Next Door is available today!! I hope you enjoy Hunter and Sylvie's story!

Amazon

B&N

Apple

Samhain

To celebrate the release of The Cottage Next Door, I'm giving away a $10 gift card to one commenter. Just tell me where you like to go on vacation? Would you pick the beach...or somewhere else?

Natasha

www.natashamoore.com

Today's Special Guest: Rue Allyn

The Editor and the Author

I want to thank Cassandra for providing this opportunity to share a slice of my publishing life with you. When I began writing fiction, I did so for the love of words and the magic those words created as they came together. This is still my primary motive for writing. I’ve tried to stop, but I can’t function if I don’t write for at least some part of my day.

At some point I decided that publishing what I wrote might be a good idea. So my first experience with editors was not that heady exchange of ideas and commentary that makes a good book great. No, my first experience with editors was that of a supplicant at the gate of heaven. The acquiring editor was the guardian of that gate and as long as my manuscript was under consideration at the editor’s house he/she held power over my publishing life.

Some authors have the extreme luck to find themselves within the gates of publishing heaven very quickly. Some wait decades before the portal opens. My own experience has been somewhere in the middle of those two scenarios. Once the gate was opened and my manuscript accepted for publication, my experience of editors changed. I was no longer a supplicant but a member of a team. The team’s goal was to bring to the reading public the best possible version of my manuscript. (I’ll pause to comment that I’ve been very lucky with most of the editors I’ve worked with. None have made unreasonable demands. All have been kind and thoughtful of my fragile writer’s ego.) I made every effort to submit revisions, return proofs, etc. in a timely manner as well as do my level best to coordinate my promotional efforts with my publisher.

These efforts have been hard but rewarding work that increased my confidence in my writing and affirmed my value as a team-member. In the process my relationship with editors has changed. Those with whom I work are still my fellow team members. However, those who guard the gates to publication at other houses are no longer all powerful in my eyes. With experience, I’m able to recognize that no one holds power over my publishing life but me. Acquisitions editors have become colleagues who accept or reject my submissions on the merits of the manuscript and the fit of that manuscript with their particular house.

Case in point, I received a rejection a few days ago that in my earlier years would have devastated me. The note said, essentially, thank you for submitting but this story doesn’t fit our needs at present. A form rejection, yes, and frustrating in its lack of commentary. However, as an example of the author-editor relationship what is most significant isn’t this rejection itself, but how I handled it. I was so busy with other activities, writing, blogging, promoting, revising et cetera, that when the rejection came in, I barely noticed. I simply made a note to submit the manuscript elsewhere then returned to my current activities.

The author-editor relationship is a living thing and like all living things it changes, usually for the better. I am blessed with my current editor at Red Sage. She helps me keep the story tightly focused on strong emotions and steaming hot passion.

We’re both excited to bring out Off Limits (the first in my sexy sailor series) on April 1, 2012 from Red Sage Publishing.

Here’s a blurb with a link to an excerpt. Please leave a comment here and share your thoughts. I’ll include you in a drawing for a free download of my first erotic romance The Widow’s Revenge. Enjoy!

Off Limits by Rue Allyn

For Senior Chief Hank O’Mara no woman could compare with the sea until he met Lieutenant Bethany Morton. Only the sea could draw two passionate people of such opposite backgrounds together, and only US Navy regulations could keep them apart. Because fraternization between Officer and enlisted is forbidden, both Beth and Hank do their utmost to resist the passion and love growing between them. However, love proves stronger than either the sea or the USN. If they are to be together, Hank must sacrifice his career and Beth will risk the destruction of her professional dreams.

Off Limits ISBNs

9781603107891;1603107894 Adobe PDF • 9781603107907;1603107908 ePub • 9781603107914;1603107916 HTML • 9781603107921;1603107924 MobiPocket

CONTEST ALERT!

Drawing details: I’m giving away a free download of my first erotic romance, The Widow’s Revenge. Only those who comment on the blog and leave an e-mail address will be entered.

Names will be drawn at noon EDT on March 28^th and after the winner is notified he/she will be announced at http://RueAllyn.com.

About The Author:

Rue Allyn: I wrote my first story around the age of five and read my first romance at the age of eight. I’ve been in love with being in love ever since. I’m happily married to my sweetheart of many, many years. We share the home of two cats, who condescend to allow me to feed them and clean their litter box. They occasionally permit me to pet them but demand my love and attention as their right. I am in awe of their feline ability to dominate with half a glance or a mere twitch of tail. I am insatiably curious, an avid reader and traveler. I love to hear from readers about your favorite books and real life adventures. I also love my work. Seriously, what could be more fun than sharing love and adventure with all your friends?

Please visit Rue at http://RueAllyn.com

Guest Author Dee Carney's Intimate Whispers

Please welcome guest author Dee Carney!

Creepy Romance. But in a good way.

Do you remember that whoa movie, The Entity, from waaaayyy back? (Okay, so it wasn’t that way back. It was 1982, but still…) For those of you who weren’t born yet (Dude. Do you know what I was doing in 1982 and you weren’t even born yet? That’s just wrong), or simply don’t remember, it’s a story about a woman who is continually raped by a ghost. Not only that, it’s based on a true story. Freaky, huh? Apparently that story left quite the impression on me. Back to this point in a sec.

I’ve been fascinated for as long as I can remember about stories with incubi and succubi. An incubus is a male (evil) spirit which has sex with a sleeping woman; a succubus is a female (evil) spirit which has sex with sleeping men. I put the word “evil” in parentheses because in the versions in my head, the spirit isn’t necessarily evil. It’s all about the sex. Bow chicka bow bow.

Third point. I write romance.

So what happens when you combine a story about a woman being raped by a ghost, a writer who thinks sex with a spirit is, well, sexy and top it off with a writer who writes romance? You get INTIMATE WHISPERS, my latest release from Ellora’s Cave. Take a look at the blurb:

Intimate Whispers
Dee Carney

Whispers from the dead are everywhere because their greatest desire is to be heard.

Sabrina Turner has found only one way to stop the curse she was born with—allowing an incubus to worship her body in exchange for halting the voices drowning her sanity. Every time she succumbs, it’s still an act of desperation. Yet she’s not sure if she wants to be rid of the bittersweet release.

All Jason Raines wants in this world is to communicate one last time with his deceased brother. When he discovers his seductive neighbor speaks to the dead, it’s another reason to get close to her. Visions and cryptic dreams Sabrina experiences are messages for him, he’s sure of it. Whatever her price, he’ll pay it. When a reluctant Sabrina opens the doorway to the other side, though, he discovers the cost may be higher than he first thought.

Her urgent search for freedom. His crucial need for absolution. A burning love between them offers their only hope in salvation from intimate whispers.

Every person who’s given me feedback on this story has used the same word to describe it: “creepy”. I do believe even my editor called it that. Lol. It’s the perfect Halloween read. With Ellora’s Cave’s new lower prices, pick up your copy today and let me know if you’re now intrigued by the possibility of sexy sex with a spirit. Ouija, anyone?

Happy (creepy) reading,
Dee



About the author:

Dee Carney is a best-selling, award-winning author of both contemporary and paranormal erotica and romance. She promises not all of her stories are designed to keep you peering into dark corners, security blanket firmly pulled up to your chin. Visit her on the web to find out more, www.deecarney.com.


READ EXCERPTS OF THIS BOOK:

www.deecarney.com/bookshelf/intimate-whispers

www.jasminejade.com/p-9629-intimate-whispers.aspx


Intimate Whispers is one of the creepiest, scariest, and hottest books you'll read this year! —Cassandra Curtis, author of The Midnight Effect and Shifting Tides.