Friday, October 31, 2014

Happy Halloween! Today is the last day of Manlove Fantisies. Tomorrow I will be picking two winners to win Strandbucks from Bookstrand. 1st prize is $10.00 and 2nd $5.00. I will be picking the winners from my comments during the month of October.
Enjoy the last Manlove Fantisies post.


Posted: 30 Oct 2014 12:01 AM PDT

Gabrielle Evans grew up in a small town in southern Oklahoma. We are talking one red light that may or may not work depending on the day of the week. She married her high school sweetheart and the rest is pretty much history.
They have two very active boys and one high-strung wiener dog that keeps her constantly on the go. For now, she parks her car in central Indiana, but who knows what tomorrow will bring.
I love hearing from readers! Drop me a line at follow me:
Q: Let’s start getting your shine on. Tell us who you are beyond an author.
A: Beyond and author, I’m also a mother and a wife, which actually takes up quite a bit of my time. Between tutoring, soccer, track, and the endless piles of laundry, my poor husband tends to get left out sometimes, but he takes it all in stride.
I don’t have any cool hobbies other than reading, and I’m kind of a hermit. My favorite color is red, I’m hopeless when it comes to cardinal directions, and I’m absolutely terrified of cows. Yes, you read that right, cows.
Q: Tell us your preferred writing genre and the genre you prefer to read.
A: Looking at my backlist, I think it’s pretty safe to say that I really enjoy writing paranormal romances. Though a lot of paranormal stories share the same elements, each world is so unique and the rules are whatever you want them to be. If you want your vampire to be allergic to grape juice, well, by Sally, that’s your choice—just be sure it makes sense.
In a striking contrast to the books I write, my favorite genre to read would probably be mystery, thriller, and/or horror books from Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Ted Dekker, and the like.
Q: Do you write every day?
A: Actually, I do. It may not always be the next book everyone is clamoring for, and I may only write 500 words that day, but I do try to write every day. It’s just a good habit I’m trying to get back into.
Q: What about writer's block?
A: After writing nearly 60 books, I don’t think I so much got writer’s block as I just got burned out. Then I went through a period of health issues, namely with migraines every day for months at a time. Life just kept getting in the way, and when I would find the time to sit down and write, nothing happened. I just couldn’t think past the constant distractions in my head. Once I finally cleaned house, so to speak, ditched the distractions, and got myself to a healthier place, the words finally started flowing again.
Q: What is your normal day like?
A: My husband works from home, and he’s constantly on conference calls and doing stuff around the house, which I find incredibly distracting. Plus, I’m really just a night owl. It’s so much quieter without the neighbors’ barking dogs or the mailman ringing the doorbell.
So, I tend to sleep during the day. I crawl into bed around 8:30 after my youngest gets on the bus for school, and I’m usually not awake until 4:30 or so in the afternoon when the kids are getting home from school and soccer practice. Once I’m awake, it’s the pretty basic routine of shower, “breakfast” and coffee—LOTS OF COFFEE! After that, I head up to my office and get started on busy work. That might mean scheduling blog posts, answering interview questions (as I am right now. *wink*), or doing research for a new project. When the kids are bathed and fed with homework finished and headed to bed, I curl up on the sofa and start my writing day.
Q: Which comes first, the story, the characters or the setting?
A: For me, it’s definitely the story. There have been a couple of times that a character has popped into my head and wanted to have a story told, but nine times out of ten, the plotline comes first. It’s all about the “what ifs.” I’ll see two people walking through the supermarket and barely avoid a collision, and my mind starts in with, “But what if they hadn’t avoided each other?”
Q: When did you know you wanted to be a writer?
A: I really can’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing. Before I even knew my alphabet or could write my own name, I was telling stories and drawing pictures of stories. Throughout school, I wrote a lot of poetry and essays. I even won a scholarship in high school for an essay I wrote on medically assisted suicide. Yeah, it was kind of morbid, but apparently, I’ve always been opinionated.
Q: Do you have any unfinished projects sitting around?
A: Not as many as I used to have. I got pretty good at whittling down the WIP folder. I might have 2 or 3 projects that I’ve started and had to put aside for a while, but nothing major. However, I do have a folder overflowing with story ideas, outlines, research, and notes for future stories!
Q: What was the biggest obstacle you had to overcome to become an author?
A: Funny enough, it was not having my own computer. LOL! Of course, there was the initial self-doubt. It took me six months to write my first book, Leap of Faith, because I kept stopping and second-guessing myself. Was I really good enough? Could I really do this?
I wrote the entire first draft of my manuscript with pen and paper. We were pretty broke at the time, and we only had one desktop computer in the house, which I had to fight three boys for if I wanted to use it. When I did get time on the computer, I was constantly bombarded by, “When are you going to be done? Are you done yet? Why aren’t you finished?”
Finally, however, I convinced my husband I was serious about this whole “writing thing,” and he agreed to buy me a laptop. It was a cheap, older model, but I had it for two years before I finally just wore it out and it stopped working!
Q: What is the strangest source of writing inspiration you've ever had?
A: The entire Gods of Chaos series spun out in about 30 seconds from the opening minute and half of Hellboy!
Q: If your muse were to talk behind your back, what secrets would he/she tell?
A: I talk to myself…a lot! I talk out loud when I’m writing. I may or may not change my voice for different characters (I totally do). I argue out loud with my characters in public. It’s very embarrassing for my children, because, teenagers.
Q: What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author? What has been the best compliment?
A: Hmm, I get a lot of bad reviews. LOL! I think it just kind of comes with the territory. Not everyone is going to love everything I write, and I accepted that a long time ago. I guess the harshest criticism came from a reviewer who said I couldn’t write my way out of a soggy paper bag. That was about the extent of the review, but it hurt.
The best compliment I’ve ever gotten is much easier to pinpoint. I don’t want to embarrass anyone, so I won’t use names, but at a conference one year, I met this gentleman who was aspiring to be an author. When he arrived at my signing table, he teared up, and it took several minutes before he could speak again. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that, and I probably won’t ever again. I got up from my chair and hugged him, and we just cried together.
Q: Do you have any advice to give to aspiring writers?
A: I’m not an expert by any means, but I’m always happy to share the knowledge I’ve acquired over the past few years. I’ll help anyone who asks for it, but I can’t lay out a twelve-step guide of how to write a book and get it published.
There’s no magic bullet, so don’t expect one. You have to work for every word, every sentence, every book, acceptance letter, reader, and sale in this business. And it isa business. Sure, it’s fun, and we love it, but there’s so much more than just sitting down and writing a book.
Read—a lot. Know your audience. You can write whatever your heart desires, but you have to market it to the right readership. Write the book you want to read. Don’t worry about trends, they’ll be over before your book is finished. If you love the story you’ve written, though, chances are, readers will, too!
If you’ve made it this far, I’d like to offer a giant and heartfelt THANK YOU!! I’ve made so many wonderful friends, both readers and authors, since I began writing, and I’m beyond thankful for each and every person who has supported me. I’d be absolutely no one without my fantastic readers, and as I always say, you’re the cheese to my macaroni. Without you, I’d just be another wet noodle. JHappy reading!!

The Legend
The laws of the paranormal world are few and simple, but they are absolute. The most sacred of these directives is also the simplest—no human shall come to perish by the actions of a Nightkin.

For centuries, the Nightkins lived in secrecy and peace amongst the humans, but not all were content with their blessed life. In their arrogant, misguided hatred of the mortals, four tribes of shifter Nightkins—pumas, bears, wolves, and eagles—banded together and fought against the humans, killing and burning everything in their path.
Saddened by the savageness of their children, the great Ancestors sought to not only punish them, but to teach them compassion, tolerance, and love. Cursing the four tribes, the Ancestors decreed that no longer would the shifters have control over their beasts, but that their beasts would control them. Each member of the tribes would live as their animal counterpart, sentient, but unable to change between forms.
Every twenty-five years, on the night of the summer solstice, the shifters would be granted their human skins. During their reprieve they would seek out their mates, because only the gift of love—both given and received—could break their curse. If a Nightkin could not find his mate by midnight on the winter solstice, however, he would become a beast one more, alone and forgotten.

The curse is theirs forever, and as immortals, forever is a very long time.
Cursed to bear the sins of his forefathers, Chey Black has spent more time running the forest as a wolf than he has lived as a man. Finding love and breaking the curse during his brief reprieves is nearly impossible, especially when the world he once knew has moved on and forgotten him. So, why bother when being alone is easier?
As a guardian, it’s Quinn Augustine’s responsibility to help Chey acclimate to the changing world and aid him in his search for a true mate. Befriending the gruff wolf-shifter is fine, but attachments only complicate his job. Chey’s chiseled body and roguish charm prove too tempting to resist, though, and before long, Quinn’s protective walls come crumbling down.
What starts as mere animal magnetism soon evolves into something much deeper, but breaking the curse won’t be that easy. Someone seriously wants Quinn dead, and unless Chey can find and eliminate the threat, he’ll be doomed to walk alone forever.
Groaning when he finally completed the change, Chey rolled over on his back and stared up at the ocean of stars above him while he tried to shake off the dizzying disorientation. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked without actually looking at the vampire sitting beside him. “Where’s Sammy?”
“I’m Quinn Augustine, and I’ll be your new Sentinel. Why, yes, it is a lovely night, and you’re welcome that I dragged my ass out here in the middle of nowhere to help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“On the contrary, you mostly certainly do need my help. Your file says this is your ninth twenty-five-year cycle. Aren’t you tired of it?”
Of course he wanted it to end, but after the first century, the curse had kind of taken its toll, and he’d given up hope of ever being free from it. Pushing himself upright, he leaned back on his hands and finally turned to look at the vampire. “Why are you even here?”
“I’m your new Sentinel.”
“Where’s Sammy?” Chey didn’t particularly enjoy having a babysitter, but he and Sammy had formed an understanding. The shifter offered assistance when Chey needed it but otherwise stayed out of his way. In exchange, Chey didn’t eat him.
“Sammy had a bit of an accident,” Quinn hedged.
“What kind of accident?”
“He tripped. Fell down a flight of stairs and caught his throat on a set of werewolf fangs.” Rising to his feet, Quinn brushed the dirt off his well-shaped ass and offered his hand to Chey. “We should get going.”
Realizing he didn’t have any other options at the moment, Chey took the guy’s hand with a grunt and hauled himself to his feet. “Fine. Where are we going anyway? There better be food involved, because I’m fucking starved.”
Quinn shook his head and snorted. “I see Sammy kept you up-to-date on modern vernacular. It’s nice how you’ve added variety and color to your vocabulary.”
“I’m also well-versed in sarcasm.” Chey gathered his long hair in one hand and lifted it away from his neck. “I need a haircut.” He used his unoccupied hand to rub at the thick, course stubble on his chin. “A haircut and a shave.”
“Well, to answer your original question, we have a two-hour drive back to Spokane. I have some clothes for you in the pickup, and yes, we can stop for food on the way.”
“Burgers.” Just the thought pulled a groan from deep in his chest. “With cheese fries. Yes, there needs to be cheese fries.”
“I think I can swing that.” Quinn laughed quietly as he walked beside Chey through the dense forest. “Your file says you prefer men, so I can show you around some of the gay hotspots once you’ve had a chance to settle in. We’ll also hit up some of the Nightkin clubs. Things have changed a lot in the last twenty-five years, but I’ll get you up to speed in no time.”
Chey didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone talk so much. Running the woods, hunting and killing his own food, and sleeping on the ground didn’t provide many opportunities for conversation, and the only person he’d actually spoken to since 1989 was Sammy, who wouldn’t be doing much talking anymore.
“Slow down, Quinn, is it? I just want a hot meal, a hotter shower, and a soft bed to sleep in for the next six months. I have no desire to find someone.”
“Of course you do,” Quinn answered in a matter-of-a-fact way. “Look, I’m new to this whole guardian gig, but I want to do a good job. It’s kind of hard for me to accomplish that if you’re going to fight me every step of the way.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Maybe you could just cut me some slack? You might even like me, and not in a you-taste-good-with-ketchup kind of way, either.”
Chey didn’t dislike the guy, exactly. He just didn’t have much involvement with people, and what little interaction he’d had with them in the last century or so hadn’t made him eager to repeat the experience. Quinn Augustine didn’t sound like the type of guy to take no for an answer, though, and Chey had a feeling the miniature vampire would force companionship on him whether he wanted it or not.
“Fine,” he relented, more in the interest of self-preservation than anything. “I’ll let you dress me up and parade me around like a dancing monkey, but I get to pick the targets.”
“Dates,” Quinn corrected. “They’re called dates.”
“Whatever.” A quick drink and a hard fuck would suit him just fine, neither of which involved romance. “Tell me about this file you have on me.”
“It’s not a file, per se. It’s more like a notebook…with notes.”
“Imagine that,” Chey mumbled. “Okay, what does this notebook of notes say about me?”
“Gods, you sound like a freakin’ toddler.” Jumping up from the bed, he marched over to Chey and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Because you scare the hell out of me! Because I can’t control myself around you. Because it’s not just sex, and you damn well know it. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
A wicked grin stretched Chey’s lips as he grabbed Quinn around the waist and jerked him forward. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
Without giving the hotheaded vampire the opportunity to debate him further, he slanted their mouths together, teasing the seam of Quinn’s lips until he opened on a lusty sigh. Their tongues tangled together, twining and sliding in a slippery dance that Chey felt right down to his aching balls.
Holding Quinn even tighter, he backed them toward the mattress, only breaking the kiss long enough to pull his shirt off over his head. “You are entirely overdressed, Mr. Augustine.”
“You are entirely too distracting, Mr. Black.” Groaning, Quinn whipped his own shirt off and tossed it over the side of the bed. “This is a bad idea.”
“I know.” It wasn’t, but if Quinn needed excuses to make him feel better, Chey could let him have that much. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Melting into the mattress, Quinn turned his head to the side, giving Chey more room to kiss down the column of his throat. “Deal,” he panted, arching his hips to push his pajama bottoms down his legs. “Don’t stop.”
Chey had no intentions of stopping. He finally had Quinn right where he wanted him, and nothing and no one would interrupt them. Continuing his exploration of the vampire’s smooth, velvety skin, he pushed his own shorts off over his hips, moaning when his swollen cock sprang fee and slapped against his lover’s belly.
Gods, he’d been too hard for too long, and he had serious doubts he could make this last long enough to not be embarrassing. However, as a shifter, he had excellent endurance, and even if the first time passed too quickly, there was always round two…and three. Running his hands down Quinn’s sides and trailing kisses across his collarbones, Chey shivered when his lover’s uninhibited moan sent a current of electricity coursing down his spine.
Minutes passed as they touched, kissed, teased, and groped. Apparently, Quinn had grown impatient with the slow seduction, however, because he pushed at Chey’s chest and wiggled around until he could flip over onto his stomach. Digging through the drawer of the nightstand, he produced a small, barely-used bottle of lube and shoved it into Chey’s shaking hand.
“Please,” he begged. “I can’t wait anymore.”
Popping the cap open with his thumb, Chey coated his fingers generously with the clear gel. “Turn over, Quinn.” Hard, fast, and dirty had their time and place, but this first time, he wanted to look into Quinn’s eyes, to watch the pleasure and passion play over his face as he writhed in ecstasy beneath him.
It didn’t take much coaxing for Quinn to turn once more, rolling onto his back to stare up at Chey. “Please,” he repeated in a strangled whisper as he locked his legs around Chey’s waist. “Please, Chey.”
“Shh, easy, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.” Insinuating his hand between their flushed bodies, he rubbed two fingers over Quinn’s opening, encouraging the muscles to relax as he pressed their mouths together again.
It took quite a bit of coaxing, but the tight ring eventually loosened to his touch, allowing him to insert the tip of his index finger. Pumping slowly, he worked his way up to the second knuckle, and finally, he had the entire digit sawing in and out of Quinn’s warm, silky channel. By the time he worked up to two fingers, Quinn’s moans had grown in volume, and each loud cry made Chey’s head spin and his cock throb in anticipation.
Not wanting to rush and end up potentially hurting his new lover, he took his time, moving his fingers within Quinn’s yielding body until the tense muscles relaxed enough for him to insert a third digit. By that point, however, he couldn’t wait any longer, and judging by the way Quinn squirmed against him, the vampire had reached his limit as well.
With as much care as he could muster, he eased his fingers from Quinn’s hole and grabbed the lube again, upending the bottle to drizzle the contents over his engorged length. Clenching his teeth together, he stroked his cock, slicking the shaft before he lined the head up with Quinn’s fluttering entrance.
“Deep breath, baby.”
Easing in slowly, he watched Quinn for signs of discomfort, pleased when he saw only a slight tightening at the corner of his eyes. When he’d seated himself to the root, Chey paused, expelling the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in whoosh of air. Remaining completely still while Quinn adjusted to the invasion almost proved too difficult, but thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long before his lover nodded, giving him the go-ahead.
Arching his hips back, he pulled out of Quinn’s snug channel until only the crown remained, paused for just a heartbeat, and then surged back inside with a rumbling groan. Quinn cried out, and his fingers dug into Chey’s shoulders as his inner walls clamped around his cock in a vise grip. More than just the physical pleasure, though, Chey had never experienced something so profoundly intense that it literally stole the breath from his lungs.
Posted: 30 Oct 2014 12:07 AM PDT
Jordan Ashton is a writer and wife whose passion for reading romance novels led her to writing them, too. She believes love can conquer all and that it makes the world go round, not money. Her heroes, heroines, and the worlds she creates bring this belief to life. She is and will always be a true romantic at heart.
Tell us your preferred writing genre and the genre you prefer to read. I love to write and read erotic romantic suspense stories. I also enjoy reading romances of any sub genre, murder mysteries, horrors, and thrillers.
Tell us where we can find you on the internet.
Do you write every day? Yep, I’m a creature of habit. I’m the most productive and creative early in the morning, so that’s when I set time aside to work on my stories. I first write in pen a chapter or two and then use Dragon Naturally Speaking to get it transcribed into a Word document.
What about writer's block? I learned a while back that it’s just a state of mind. If your mood and timing are right, you can pretty much avoid it. I know I’m more productive in the early morning hours, ergo that’s the time I’ll work on my stories. If I hit a snag with one, I have another story I can fall back on until I can overcome the snag.
Which comes first, the story, the characters or the setting?Each story is its own creation. In some the characters come before the storyline or the setting. Others it’s the setting, while others, the storyline itself. I just let the muse guide me wherever it may.
When did you know you wanted to be a writer? I was in high school when I got the revelation. I loved reading stories where the hero or heroine was a writer and realized I had many of the traits these characters had, so I figured that must be my calling, too.
To tell you the truth, I believe it’s everyone’s calling to be a writer. It’s just up to the person if they want to pursue it or not.
What are some of your hobbies? I read, draw, paint, cook, hike, and on occasion knit or crochet.
You come back from the dead as a spirit, what message are you trying to get across? I’d send sweet messages to my family and my husband to tell them that I love them and will always be with them.
If your muse were to talk behind your back, what secrets would he/she tell? That I’m a strange person and have way too many annoying quirks, like the ritual I go through each morning before beginning to write. I have to something sweet, like a piece of dark chocolate, and my desk and working area have to be organized. Clutter drives me bananas.
It’ll also say that my brain is mush until I have a double dose of coffee in the morning. After that, it gets pretty noisy up there when I start rolling out the list of what I have to do in the day.
What project are you working on now? I’m writing two MM erotic paranormal romance novellas--Book 2 Rowan in the Harbor of Lost Souls series and Book 4 Cry of the Hungry Wolf in Shifters of the Claiming Kind series.
Do you prefer stand-alone books or series? I prefer writing and reading series stories mainly because having characters grow and change from one story to the next makes it much more interesting. You can better connect with them and their plights and struggles this way, and cheer for them when they get their own story and finally fall in love.
Do you listen to music while you are writing and if so what music is it? I listen to music all the time, while I write, work, cook, or am just relaxing. It ranges from jazz, instrumental, New Age, rock, even chamber music. I find the more diverse my music range, the more alert, creative, and energetic I am in whatever I do.

Shifters of the Claiming Kind 1
Bane Brooks, an alpha wolf shape-shifter, has been searching for his soul mate for years, but no one has ever stolen his heart, up until he meets Felix Michaels near his ranch. He falls head over heels in love with the hunky, shy human.
Felix Michaels is running from a mysterious gunman who wants him killed, when he falls and blacks out. When the most gorgeous shifter he’s ever seen saves him and brings him to his ranch, he knows he’s safe.
Things soon heat up between these two lovers, until Bane realizes he must mate with a shifter, not a human, to stop the Change. If he doesn’t mate with a shifter soon, he’ll turn to his wild wolf form forever. How can he love Felix, a human, but mate with a shifter?
The gunman is still out there and intent on killing Felix. Can these lovers fight off danger and the Change that threatens to tear them apart, while finding their way to a happily-ever-after?

“Whoa there!” his mate said in a surprised pitch.
Bane stopped and with worried eyes, asked, “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
The man laughed. “No, but you just picked me up!”
Bane snorted. “Yeah, you’re dizzy and your ankle is sprained or broken. How else am I going to carry you?”
Still in shock, his mate said, “Yes, but you’re sweeping me off my feet, literally.”
Bane waggled his brow. “I do that to all the handsome strangers I meet.” He took a deeper than usual breath in order to smell his scent. Damn, it was intoxicating.
Blushing, the man grinned, his dimples making him irresistible. “Usually, I have to know the name of my hero before I let him carry me.”
“My name is Bane Brooks,” he said while he made his way from the woods to the trail. “And what’s yours?”
“I’m Felix Michaels. It’s nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand, but your hands are already full.”
Bane chuckled as he carefully progressed, making sure not to step on anything that could make him lose his footing. Felix gazed down at his arms. Raising his hand, he asked, “Do you mind if I touch?”
Bane purred, “Go ahead. Touch anything your little heart desires. And I do mean anything,” he added with a sidelong naughty and flirtatious smile.
Blushing, Felix placed his warm hands on his biceps, outlining the wide muscular bumps they formed, which sent shivers of pleasure throughout Bane’s body, centering on his manhood. It was a good thing he was wearing stretchy exercise pants, because if he had his tight jeans on, well then things would surely get restricted and uncomfortable.
He grinned at the image and how Felix continued to admire his flexing arms and his rock hard chest.
“Wow, your biceps are huge! Are you a body builder?”
“No, not professionally. But I do bench press three hundred pounds daily. I’m actually a rancher.” He wanted to tell Felix that he was also an alpha wolf shifter, which accounted for his extra tall, extra built physique. But he couldn’t be scaring his mate away before the fun even began.
Needles of sexual excitement shot up and down his body and cock, making it twitch as he imagined the love he and Felix would make when the Change started. He had to admit that Chandler had been right when he said Bane’s hormones were out of whack. All he could think about was having sex with Felix while he held him in his arms and smelled his scent. It didn’t surprise him if he started howling in excitement any second.
Concentrate, Bane. Focus on the trail and don’t trip over anything. Poor Felix baby has been through enough.
Staring at the path ahead, he asked, “So how did you end up lying on the ground behind the bush unconscious, Felix?”
He could have sworn he saw the look of panic on Felix’s face before he washed it away with a deep sigh and several eye blinks.
“My brother’s car broke down and I was trying to find a house or a gas station, anyplace where I could call him to let him know what happened and also a tow truck. I was walking quickly and not paying attention where I was walking. I lost my footing and fell, and everything went black when I hit my head on something, probably a rock. I was out of it until you woke me.”
Bane felt the shiver in Felix’s spine and his seductive scent changed to one of fear. Something bad had happened to his mate.
“Then why didn’t you continue on the road? You had a better chance of finding help that way.”
Felix diverted his gaze away. “You’re right. I guess I was too much in a hurry and wasn’t thinking straight.”
Bane wanted to help him. He sensed his apprehension and unease. But until Felix opened up and told him the complete truth, his hands were tied.
Smiling, he said, “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, because I came along.”
“Yes, you did. And you saved me.” Felix grinned, staring deeply into Bane’s eyes. His long, black eyelashes batted and Bane’s heart skipped a beat with each flutter. He and his mate were connected more than Bane could ever have imagined.
Something told him their bond would continue to strengthen and deepen the more time they spent together.
Posted: 29 Oct 2014 12:11 AM PDT
Let’s start getting your shine on. Tell us who you are beyond an author: I’m a mother, wife, and closet ballerina.

Show us when you realized you had a passion for writing? Like so many people who write, I started early, when I was in second or third grade. In the beginning it was poetry. I gave that up. I was always telling stories. I used to make up stories to tell my baby brother. When I was older, in my teens, I began to write romances. They were silly and simple and very short. Later, as I learned more, the stories became more involved. I continue to learn and hopefully add depth to the stories and the characters in them. I was also writing stories that were quite a bit hotter than what was being offered in bookstores. I was writing what I wanted to read.
Tell us your preferred writing genre and the genre you prefer to read: I prefer to write ménages in any combination, m/m/m, m/m/m/f, m/f/m… you get the idea. I read m/m.
Going back to the beginning, show us the day you received your publication offer or the first time you saw your bound book: I was leaving work and checking emails on my phone. I read the acceptance of my first book and couldn’t believe it. I started crying and called my husband. I cried all the way home and a good while after getting there. As for seeing and holding my first book in my hand? There was nothing like it. It felt incredible!
Tell us your expectations of an aspiring author approaching you for information about writing/publishing? This has happened to me more than once. I am willing to share anything I know. If I don’t know something, I will point them in the right direction. I was helped by an established author in the very beginning. She kept me from having a meltdown. I want to do that for other authors.
Ready to shine? Tell us the name of your book(S). Alternative titles are:
Cowboys and Pearls (Loving in Silver 5), A Naughty, Naughty Mink (Men of Silver 1), Their Fallen Angel (Men of Silver 2), Fierce Hearts (Men of Silver 3), Eternal Fires, Paranormal m/m/m titles are: Eternal Love (White Horse Clan 1), A Dragon’s Destiny (White Horse Clan 2), Raining Frogs: A Tale of a Troubled Love (White Horse Clan 3). Ménage titles are: Peaches ‘n’ Cream (Loving in Silver 1), With Cherry on Top (Loving in Silver 2), Butterfly Madness (Loving in Silver 3), When Bambi Does the Hunting (Loving in Silver 4), Cowboys and Pearls (Loving in Silver 5), Paying Their Piper with Passion and Love (Loving in Silver 6), Darlings and Disorder for the Dom (Loving in Silver 7).
Do you write everyday? Yes. I write every day. If I don’t, I get twitchy and can’t concentrate on anything else.
What about writer's block? I’ve been stuck a time or two, but usually it’s not for long. Getting out and doing something different for a little while, usually kicks the brain back into gear.
What is your normal day like? I start early to get things out of the way so I can write. I’m not lucky enough to get much uninterrupted time. I’m working on that. I have a lot of pets, so they have their needs to be met throughout the day. I have to get as much writing done as I can before my husband comes home. Then I’m back to writing during the evening.
What would you say is a true hero? A hero in my mind is someone who gives selflessly, without thought of being rewarded or thanked. My heroes are the individuals who stand up for others.
Which comes first, the story, the characters or the setting?Characters, every time.
Do you have a favorite character? Angel Salazar from Fallen Angel (Men of Silver 2). Or it could be Mink from A Naughty, Naughty Mink. Both men remind me of friends from my past. They made me smile and laugh.
Why do you write in this genre? I love writing m/m because it’s freeing. I want to write stories the way I feel the lives of people should be. Everyone should be able to be who they are, and be with the person they’re meant to be with in life.
What was the biggest obstacle you had to overcome to become an author? Negativity, until I learned to ignore it, something that is difficult when it comes from someone who should be giving you their complete support.
How would you best describe your writing style? Free-spirited? I love going with the flow.
What are some of your hobbies? Reading, wood-carving, gardening, bird watching, and watching guinea pig races.
What do your family and friends think about you writing erotic romance? I ask because some people us a PEN name and don’t tell their friends or family they write erotic romance? For the most part, I’m very open about what I write. My family thinks it’s great and is completely supportive. There are only a few people I haven’t told what I write, simply because I don’t want to hear their negative comments. It’s like talking to a wall. I don’t do hate. I don’t speak it and I don’t listen to it. My lawyer and my insurance agent are both very conservative, but I told them both I write erotic romance. The lawyer asked it if was like FSoG and I told him no, what I write is much hotter. He blushed and nodded. My insurance agent chuckled, but didn’t probe too much. He just told me that his daughter is writing and wanted to know if I would be willing to help her out. He also told me she got in trouble in school for writing about women, leather, and other subject matter the teacher obviously wasn’t comfortable with. I admire this man because he’s supporting his daughter, despite the fact that it may conflict with his own beliefs.
If your muse were to talk behind your back, what secrets would he/she tell? Oh, jeez, we don’t want to go there. I have too many secrets.
You are told you have to meet one paranormal creature, no safeguards, what do you choose? What do you bring with you? A sexy, gay wolf shifter. I would bring lunch and dates for the both of us.
You have to ask a fictional character out on a date. Who would you ask and what would you do together? I would ask my yummiest hero, Colt Redford. He’s bad in the best kind of way, and the only man I can think of who could tie me up without any resistance from me.
How did you choose the genre you write in? I write what I love to read.
Have you written a book you love that you have not been able to get published? I have piles of them, but I’ve never tried to have any of them published. Someday, maybe. I have three medieval period novels that I would like to see published in the next couple of years.
What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author? What has been the best compliment? I really have a tough time when someone makes suggestions about my “baby.” It’s perfect, right? I work through it, knowing I’m making it better. I absolutely love when something is pointed out as “great” or “I love it.” Smiley faces are good, too.
Do you have any advice to give to aspiring writers? Don’t give up on what you want to do. Even when the road ahead of you seems impossibly rough, keep going. You’ll love what you discover at the end.
Is there anything that you would like to say to your readers and fans? Thank you always comes to mind first. My readers are the best and continue to support me as I write the stories they enjoy. It’s my pleasure to do so.
When did you seriously sit down, and say to yourself, I’m going to write a novel? When I was in my early twenties.
What do you find the most difficult to write? Dialogue? Back story? Emotion? Back story.
Do you have the support of family and friends? Yes. They’ve all been great. Even the people who don’t necessarily like what I’ve chosen to write, and wouldn’t read it, hope I’m successful.
Do you prefer stand-alone books or series? I LOVE a series. It just lets a good story go on and on.
Where do you get the inspirations for your books? Usually something just clicks in my brain. No, not the on switch… lol. I’ll suddenly imagine a man or woman, a scene, a bit of a story, and then it begins for me.
Do you find it difficult at times to write love scenes? At times I do. Choreographing the movements of several lovers often has its challenges. Keeping the scene flowing, while being certain no one is getting an elbow in the eye or the groin, can be difficult at times.
What is your favourite genre? Ménage
If you could change places with one character from your books, who would it be and why? It would be Peaches Malloy, from my first erotic romance, Peaches ‘n’ Cream (Loving in Silver 1). She’s strong, savvy, and she has a wonderful personality.
Do you listen to music while you are writing and if so what music is it? I love music while I’m working. David Bowie, Billy Idol, Adele, and Maroon Five are at the top of my favorites list.
Are you working on anything right now, and can you tell us a teaser about these projects? I have an m/m/m/m in the planning process. There will be two badass cowboys and…

White Horse Clan 1
After the murder of his mate and children, war horse shifter Ian MacLauchlan lived alone, all but letting the world pass him by for fifty years. His former bond mate, vampire Malcolm MacNair, made a point of visiting Ian, unable to forget what they had shared at one time. Though they are still mates, they no longer have the unique bond that only a third mate can help them achieve. There is no guarantee that they will ever find another mate to complete them.
During the medieval fair they operate to provide them with an income, Ian and Malcolm catch the very unexpected and elusive scent of their mate. Ian is reluctant to discover its source, not wanting to relive the pain, until Malcolm reminds him of what they were missing. What they find is an adorable gibbon shifter, their future, and another chance to love for an eternity.
The wind caught the tent, making the sides and top roll and pop. It also brought another scent, one which was unwelcome, but had him sitting bolt upright and sniffing as he tossed back the sheet and jumped out of bed. He shoved the gym shorts off and grabbed his jeans. He pulled them on then got a T-shirt from his bag. By the time he was out of the tent he was shoving his feet in his boots and the shirt was halfway down his torso.
“Do you smell that?” It was Malcolm, standing there in a white sleeveless shirt and kilt, broadsword strapped to his side. “I caught the scent over there, by the booth where they sell roses.”
“Yes.” The scent, stronger now, was calling to his stallion. It would be nearly impossible to control the animal part of him. This need to gather mates, to form his herd again, was pulling hard at him. “Malcolm, I can’t do it again,” he whispered, jaw clenching.
“You would prefer to live with this torment for the rest of eternity?”
Eternity. They didn’t have any idea how long they would live. They knew some shifters, vampires, and other creatures that were thousands of years older than they were. Ian closed his eyes for a moment. “No,” he said finally. Though he and Malcolm were lovers, they couldn’t reform their soul bond without sharing a mate. It meant everything to them.
The direction of the wind changed, swirling, carrying the scent to them once more. They turned, back to back, trying to determine the source of the scent as they scanned the area for any likely candidates. Ian wondered if this mate was female or male. Their first mate had been a female. The others had been of both sexes, men and women his stallion’s instincts had forced him to gather. Most had not been permanent mates. Those that were not went on to mate with others. Malcolm had teased him, telling him his life was so hard, that many men would trade places with him. Being physically and emotionally connected to so many had been a burden at times. It eased some, when they found mates of their own and he was no longer their primary mate. Yet, Malcolm did make one good point. The sex had been great.
Ian already knew of one young wolf shifter who would be more than willing to be part of the White Horse Clan. Snorting, he followed the scent, Malcolm at his side. He could do without all the extra sex. If they found their mate, this one they would share, the one which would bind them together once more, perhaps he could ignore what his stallion wanted.
That earned Ian an angry inner snort. His stallion was restless. He was horny, too.
They followed the scent along the path where there were stalls set up. The costumed sellers offered everything from pottery to wooden flutes. His nose curled and the scent disappeared as they approached the point where a troll was doing a pretty good job scaring people. Humans couldn’t smell the creatures, but paranormals could quite easily. They smelled of the earth where they lived. The trolls were mostly stupid creatures. Many were also bad-natured. But they seemed to love working at the fair so he had given them jobs that suited their nature instead of trying to make them go away. The costumer had dressed them as small trees and stumps and let them do what they did best, scaring humans. It didn’t hurt that he could pay them with the food that was left over from the vendors.
“I’ve found it again. It’s that way, through the trees over there!” Malcolm pointed and Ian saw a flash of blue and red. Winding their way through the crowd, they crossed the rope barrier marking the edge of the fair’s land. “Damn! They’re fast!”
They ran as fast as they could. Malcolm was considerably faster than Ian was in his human form, but they couldn’t risk being seen as anything other than ordinary humans. Everyone had a camera these days. Malcolm could even disseminate, going from place to place in the blink of an eye. They couldn’t risk that. Just being around so many humans was a risk they had to take if they wished to live in reasonable comfort throughout the rest of the year.
Malcolm must have thought finding their mate was worth the risk of detection because he suddenly disseminated in mid-stride. Ian kept running toward the northeast. Though he could no longer detect the scent, his stallion seemed to have some instinct as to which way they should go. It wasn’t until they came to a high cliff overlooking a river did he come to a stop.
Ian nearly jumped off when Malcolm appeared at his side. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me?”
Malcolm slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. “No, my friend, I am not trying to kill you. We now have too much to look forward to, to live for.”
Ian wouldn’t get too excited too soon. “Did you find where our mate went?
Posted: 29 Oct 2014 12:11 AM PDT
Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart. You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.

For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit or

AVAILABLE: Monday, October 27th
[Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romantic Suspense, M/M, shape-shifters, vampires, werewolves, HEA]
When a string of murders hit the Vampire District, Lacee Blue becomes the prime suspect. He is the only human proprietor in this seedy district and is the only club owner who has had two bodies discovered on his property. Worse, Lacee has been infatuated with Detective Nate Sullivan for some time, and doesn’t stand a chance with the Were if he can't prove his innocence.

And then body parts start showing up in Lacee's mail. He goes to the only man he trusts, the same man who suspects him of the crimes. Detective Sullivan. But more is going on in the district and Lacee suddenly finds himself being hunted by an elder vampire who thinks Lacee would make the perfect pet. Lacee's life is in danger and if he doesn’t find help soon, he could be the next victim.

“You’re gonna to have to call the cops,” Angelo said as he stood beside me in the dark alley. It was a warm Saturday night, and the heat had sweat clinging to my body. It was always sweltering in midsummer and tonight was no exception. “He’s human. If you try and cover this up, theywill find out.”
They, meaning the KGI.
I stared down into Jared’s lifeless, milky-white eyes and wondered who could have done something like this. What kind of monster existed who would kill someone and just dump the body? I had an urge to reach down and close Jared’s eyes but didn’t want to mess with the crime scene. “I have no intention of covering this up,” I said.
I just wasn’t looking forward to having the cops crawl through my club. It was bad for business. I cared that it was Jared who was the victim, but I didn’t know him that well. He had been working at Blue Moon only about two months. But he’d been a humorous man who loved to tease and joke.
This was a tragic loss.
“I’ll go make the call.”
I nodded as I continued to stare into Jared’s eyes. He’d been one of my bouncers.
This was the second body in a week that I’d discovered back here, and this was going to cast suspicion on my club. The detectives were still working the other cases, trying to figure out the clues.
A second body just might have the Blue Moon shut down. I was the only human club owner in the Vampire District. While most humans thought I was insane for owning a business in a vampire community, the money was too good to pass up and the other club owners didn’t look at my business as a threat.
They actually thought it was quite laughable that a human would have the balls to open a strip joint in an area owned and operated by vampires.
When Angelo returned, he placed his beefy hand on my shoulder and turned me away from Jared’s lifeless body. “Stop staring at him, Lacee.”
I turned away and strode back inside. The music was still playing, and Brandywine was on stage, only halfway through her number. The patrons had no clue that a dead body lay out back. They continued to enjoy themselves, ignorant to what had happened. I wanted to keep it that way. “We’re going to have to clear everyone out,” I said to Angelo. “I’d rather the customers think that we shut down for other reasons than murder.”
“Not good for business,” Angelo muttered as he walked over to the DJ booth and had a private word with Eric.
By the time the club was cleared out, I had three patrol cars sitting out back, lights flashing, drawing the kind of attention to Blue Moon I’d rather do without.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, the KGI had shown up.
Detective Nate Sullivan stood by the body as he talked with his partner. The KGI normally investigated preternatural cases. Jared was human. I could only guess that they were here because my club resided in the Vampire District.
The KGI were a group of hard-nosed investigators comprised of werewolves. They weren’t funded by the government like the police force and other official agencies. The human taxpayers who still dominated most of the United States refused to waste their hard-earned money on abominations.
Close-minded but true.
The wealthy vampires and the alphas of the various Were population funded the KGI. Even though I was human, I still contributed to that fund. I’d just never thought I would need their services.
Brandywine and a few of the other dancers gathered around me in the dim hallway that led out back, trying to get a look at the commotion outside. Not only was I the only human proprietor down here, but I was also the only person who employed transgender vampire strippers. What can I say? It was a lucrative business.
Brandywine placed her hand over her mouth as tears gathered in her heavily made-up eyes. “That’s Jared.”
“You guys go home for the night,” I said as I turned and ushered them away from the door. I knew Brandywine would take this the hardest. She and Jared had a thing for each other. It had been hot and heavy between them for the last month.
When Brandywine began to break down, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a tight hug. She was much taller than me and had to bend down, but she needed the comfort.
A throat cleared behind me.
I released Brandywine and waved for them to go. The girls clambered down the hallway before I turned to see Detective Sullivan standing at the back door. His shoulders filled the frame, and they also filled the faded leather he was wearing. His amber eyes were inscrutable as he tucked the small notebook into his jacket.
“Mr. Blue.” He nodded toward me. My heart began to beat harder at his deep, masculine tone. I sighed, knowing I didn’t have a chance in hell with this guy.
Weres didn’t mingle with anyone outside their own kind. But what I wouldn’t give to have a roll in the sheets with him. He was sexy, enigmatic, and anyone’s wet dream. I’d heard through rumors that Weres were aggressive and dominant in bed, but I was still willing to take that chance for one night with Detective Handsome.
“Yes?” My voice was a bit breathy as I tried to slow my pulse. But the closer he approached, the less I could think, let alone calm my reaction to his presence.
“Can you tell me what happened?” He placed his strong hands on his lean hips, making his jacket part to show the badge attached to his belt and a gun holster strapped around his shoulder.
Angelo rolled his eyes before taking a stance behind me. He knew I had the hots for this detective and couldn’t understand my infatuation. Angelo was a vampire, my head bouncer, and took my protection seriously. It could be the fact that I paid him well, but I’d like to think some of his concern stemmed from the fact that we were friends.
“It’s just like last time,” I said.
“Walk me through it anyway,” Sullivan replied in his businesslike tone.

There really wasn’t much to the plan. Sullivan would gather his pack and announce me as his lupine. Benedetto would back off. How Marcus defeated the elder was his business. After all, the coven leader had left me for dead. Let the bastard deal with Benedetto.
I wasn’t sure why I thought we would make plans and then I could go on my merry way. Stupid me for thinking things could go that easily. Nothing had lately, and I should have known I wasn’t going to get out of Sullivan’s with a “thanks for helping me” and a wave.
Some days I wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box.
The detective wasn’t going to make it that easy on me. He pushed from the floor and turned, pinning me to the couch.
“What are you doing?” It was obvious what Sullivan was up to, but that had been a knee-jerk question.
“I am willing to let you go if this isn’t what you truly want. But I’m not going to lie to my pack about you truly being my lupine. We will at least consummate things between us.”
“No biting?”
“No biting,” Sullivan’s voice became softer as he brushed his knuckles over my cheek. I’d fallen back into the couch, lying there like a timid little cat who was afraid of the big bad wolf. Which I was, but I wasn’t admitting that out loud.
At his touch, I became putty in his hands. I arched my back, my body pulsing as I moaned. I wanted my pants off, but I didn’t want to break the connection long enough to remove them. I had never been so aware of my own pulse, the blood flowing through my veins. It was as if my body was no longer my own, but Sullivan’s. It danced to the man’s touch, swayed to his lips, and hungered to be caressed by this man.
His lips traveled over my throat, inhaling me, his canines scraping along my skin. I had just enough wits not to beg the man to bite me. That quickly I was lost in him.
Sullivan’s eyes blazed before he reared back and flipped me to my stomach, pinning me down to the cushions. An animalistic growl ripped from the man’s chest. I shuddered and moaned as Sullivan’s weight settled over me. I wanted nothing more than to get rid of the barrier of clothes.
“You will accept me into your body.” Sullivan’s words were growly and low.
I jerked backward, grinding my ass into Sullivan’s groin. I understood nothing the man said and wasn’t going to bother trying to decipher it right now. I was too far-gone and would have agreed to be the man’s footstool just as long as Sullivan didn’t stop.
That said a lot about my control. It didn’t exist. Not when the heat of Sullivan’s body was soaking into me, driving me insane.
“Will you agree to be my lupine?”
Oh fuck. Would the man just shut up and get on with it? I had been lusting after Sullivan for far too long. And now that I had the man crushing me into the couch, I didn’t want to bother with anything coherent. “Yes!”
Sullivan clamped his teeth down on my shoulder. He didn’t break skin, but I had gotten the point. Submit. Hadn’t I already shown Sullivan that I was fine with the man taking control? Did I have to spell it out for the guy?
My body jerked and quivered as Sullivan curled his fingers into the waistband of my pants and then yanked them down my legs. I felt the cool rush of air slide over my ass. Now we were getting down to business. I hoped that Sullivan remembered lube or I was going to beat the crap out of the guy. I was too wound up, primed and ready to go. I didn’t want to wait around as the man fumbled for some sort of lubrication.
A lightning bolt shot through me when Sullivan’s hand slid down t

1 comment:

  1. I have tried to comment on all the authors. They have some wonderful books coming out.