Here's a stupid problem. I've written this book. It's a paranormal suspense. I love it. I can't write a coherent synopsis of it. CAN NOT DO IT.
Every time I try it comes out in truly strange fashion. Sometimes I sound like someone else trying to write in Gail Faulkner's voice. Those times stump me. Am I channeling an evil sister or something. I do have a sister and she's published, she's not evil so it can't be her. BTW- she doesn't write erotica, or even romance. Sometimes it sounds like a romantic romp...which it is NOT. It's even sounded like History of Eastern Europe 101. Yeah, it's not that either.
I'm developing a mental block. Not really a block, sorta a "boogy man" image of writing this outline. Guess that is a block. Part of the reason I was so frustrated I wrote an entirely different book in a month was this stupid outline.
I wonder if it's acceptable to have someone else write the outline of a book one submits to an agent? I mean, um...is that lying? The facts are all the same, just written by someone who doesn't sound like a candidate for the "special" school of writing. The one where the person who DIDN'T eat their crayons last night gets a star.
okay....back to the beast, I mean book.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
I DID IT!!
You will not beleive how long I have worked to make this dang thing. It's not even fancy!! I tried doing a moving one and it made me dizzy.
Just so proud of myself. Now I have to make it interesting and junk.
Final Edit on Stealing Carmen
Such a fun write this time. Not every book is this comfortable to write. Some come easy and some make you pay with pieces of your soul to write them.
I can't say one experience results in a better book than the other. That's really for the reader to judge. So far three book have flowed out of me like water rushing to the ocean. Full Ride, Romeo and now Stealing Carmen. Not sure what that says. Romeo and Full Ride are totally different types of work. Stealing Carmen sort of comes between them in the "type" of story.
Hope to hear a publish date soon. Not sure I'll get it before the long weekend though. Setting one of those requires a management meeting and such.--le sigh
I can't say one experience results in a better book than the other. That's really for the reader to judge. So far three book have flowed out of me like water rushing to the ocean. Full Ride, Romeo and now Stealing Carmen. Not sure what that says. Romeo and Full Ride are totally different types of work. Stealing Carmen sort of comes between them in the "type" of story.
Hope to hear a publish date soon. Not sure I'll get it before the long weekend though. Setting one of those requires a management meeting and such.--le sigh
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Why?
Recently a friend sent me an article that told a wonderful story about some celebrates from a bygone age. It turned out only tiny fragments of the story were true.
What I want to know is who starts these Urban/Internet legends? And why? It was beautifully written. Someone has talent. But why do this?
It's not like the thing was harmful. Simply misleading. What is the reason?
See, these pointless things bother me. Not that they did them, I wanna know WHY? Even if its stupid.
What I want to know is who starts these Urban/Internet legends? And why? It was beautifully written. Someone has talent. But why do this?
It's not like the thing was harmful. Simply misleading. What is the reason?
See, these pointless things bother me. Not that they did them, I wanna know WHY? Even if its stupid.
Monday, August 27, 2007
First day of School!!
Oh the joy. As long as its not the first day of school ever, this day is a wonderful joy for both moms and kids
For writer moms its like being let out of writing prison. All that glorious time to write now!
This summer I did get a short book written, but that's the first time I've ever finished something in the summer.
Off to watch for the blessed yellow bus.
For writer moms its like being let out of writing prison. All that glorious time to write now!
This summer I did get a short book written, but that's the first time I've ever finished something in the summer.
Off to watch for the blessed yellow bus.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Test Blurb Stealing Carmen
Would you read this book? If you like it, why? If you dont. Why? Thanks for helping out. These things have to be less than 130 words and sell the book. Needless to say, I hate writing them.
Stealing Carmen
By Gail Faulkner
Jack knew all about secrets. The government trusted him to keep them, find them, exploit them. Home for a short rest from that world, he hadn’t meant to overhear his sexy neighbor’s darkest desires. Being the focus of those wicked wishes was news to him.
Introducing Carmen to the fantasy of being a submissive was a mission he didn’t expect to last long. He certainly didn’t expect her to show him natural sensuality that brought him to his knees.
A lifetime of looking at the other side of the fence brought a man to this. Investing more than he could afford and it wasn’t cash. Carmen came with a dangerous price. One he’d willingly pay to keep this woman safe in his arms.
Stealing Carmen
By Gail Faulkner
Jack knew all about secrets. The government trusted him to keep them, find them, exploit them. Home for a short rest from that world, he hadn’t meant to overhear his sexy neighbor’s darkest desires. Being the focus of those wicked wishes was news to him.
Introducing Carmen to the fantasy of being a submissive was a mission he didn’t expect to last long. He certainly didn’t expect her to show him natural sensuality that brought him to his knees.
A lifetime of looking at the other side of the fence brought a man to this. Investing more than he could afford and it wasn’t cash. Carmen came with a dangerous price. One he’d willingly pay to keep this woman safe in his arms.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
New Contract Offer from Ellora's Cave for STEALING CARMEN
YAYYYYYYY!!! NUTTY HAPPY DANCING.
Now the hard part. They want me to submit a synop with the contract!! Akkk!! It's a new form and I don't like it. I really don't do these things well. At least acceptance of the manuscript doesn't depend on it. Whew!
Rushing off to work on that. Will probably take me longer than it took to write the book.
Now the hard part. They want me to submit a synop with the contract!! Akkk!! It's a new form and I don't like it. I really don't do these things well. At least acceptance of the manuscript doesn't depend on it. Whew!
Rushing off to work on that. Will probably take me longer than it took to write the book.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
How many plots in head head?!
I donno! But two people have asked me today so I'll try to explain.
No way of saying how many story plots run through my mind. Those are endless. Sometimes I write them, mostly- who has the time? Almost anything can suggest a story to me.
The last book I handed in came out of two events that happened over four months apart, combined with several conversations I'd heard, not even participated in.
It's easier to tell you how many manuscripts I have open right now. The answer is six I'm working on. Two more I've set aside. Three that are mostly sketches. One that is just erotica, no HEA.
What does that add up to? 12?
That dozen’t include the last Ghost Unit book, which is plotted in my head but I haven't written a word on yet. And book two and three for a series that I have plotted but not written a word on those two either.
I'm not saying every story listed above will be published. I have no idea if they are even good. The six manuscripts I have open right now I expect to be published, somewhere. But you never know. None of the above list is contracted because I am TERRIBLE at writing a proposal or synopsis. I am so bad at it that I make people want to pay me not to write. It's very sad. Even when a book is done, I can't write them.
No way of saying how many story plots run through my mind. Those are endless. Sometimes I write them, mostly- who has the time? Almost anything can suggest a story to me.
The last book I handed in came out of two events that happened over four months apart, combined with several conversations I'd heard, not even participated in.
It's easier to tell you how many manuscripts I have open right now. The answer is six I'm working on. Two more I've set aside. Three that are mostly sketches. One that is just erotica, no HEA.
What does that add up to? 12?
That dozen’t include the last Ghost Unit book, which is plotted in my head but I haven't written a word on yet. And book two and three for a series that I have plotted but not written a word on those two either.
I'm not saying every story listed above will be published. I have no idea if they are even good. The six manuscripts I have open right now I expect to be published, somewhere. But you never know. None of the above list is contracted because I am TERRIBLE at writing a proposal or synopsis. I am so bad at it that I make people want to pay me not to write. It's very sad. Even when a book is done, I can't write them.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Rainy Monday - Wish I were curling up with a book
The title is NOTHING BUT SMOKE. It's one I can't work on steadily. This story is related to the Ghost Unit, but not one of the series. It's been on my mind for some time and I do bits of it as I can. It's a action/suspense built around a love story, two hearts that dare not touch and can never forget.
By the time the men left again the prisoner’s situation had gone sharply down hill. The ropes had come off but their bodies had been contorted to long. None of them could move as circulation ripped through their veins. So to chain them to the wall in heavy metal collars the guards had kicked them across the floor using the force of boot meeting inert flesh to roll them.
The chain on each collar was not long enough to allow the men to sit or stand. They had to squat to keep from hanging themselves. The collars were new, edges sharp and rough, cutting flesh easily. One couldn’t actually die from hanging himself, the collar would probably sever an artery before he was dead and he’d bleed out. So there they were, crouched with bare feet on freezing stone floor, shivering in the damp, dark cells. The guards flipped off the light as they left. Complete blackness settled around them.
None of them spoke. They had to assume there was a mic in the room.
Damn! This was a major fuckup. They were supposed to be dead. Not captives in some dank, Byzantine dungeon on the wrong side of the line dividing east from west. It was 1970, everyone knew capture was not an option in this silent war. Capture was failure in a big way. It wiped out the fact that they’d succeeded in the original mission. The information they’d been sent for was on its way to Washington. They’d made themselves expendable by getting captured.
No one was coming for them. There would be no official acknowledgment, no negotiations. The mission was to get in and get out or die, nice and quiet. They’d been betrayed. Smoke went over it in his head. Each time he came up with the same conclusion. The tangos had been warned. Luckily the action plan had changed in operation so the capture had only worked for half the team.
A traitor. Well, that changed everything. They were not going to die. Nope, escape was required. The anger coursing through him wound around every other consideration with deadly intent. If this operation had been compromised, so had others and the only men who could have known were the ones who never came back. Time someone came back and fixed the fucking problem.
Eight hours later the three men were squatting silently against the wall. Sleeping was difficult. They had to keep half standing to insure circulation through cramped limbs. No one had brought food or water. There were no arrangements for bodily waste. The air around them was thick and fetid already. There was no way to tell time in the unrelenting dark.
Simply leaving them here would have been very effective on most men. Unfortunately, Smoke mused to himself, the three of them could take this almost indefinitely if they were given sufficient water and food to live.
Suddenly there was a hesitant scratching down the wall towards the bars to Blue’s cell. Smoke didn’t start as pale blue eyes tried to pry into the dark. The noise stopped and started again. It was not in the cell with him. No. The other side of the stone wall he squatted against. The sound stopped again, started again and suddenly he could place it. Stone on stone moving. The inching scrap stopped. When it started Smoke coughed. The action rattled the chain securing him to the wall and successfully obscured the noise as a stone in the wall moved.
It was cold, they were all half naked and coughing was a natural noise. It took the person an amazingly long time to work the stone out of the wall. If this was a rescue, someone needed to spend more time on upper body strength. Smoke waited patiently for the scraping to start again, it didn’t. On either side Blue and Pike were silent as they waited, listening. None of them could see shit.
A flickering light appeared from within the wall and they could see the hole. The opening was perhaps two foot high and close to three wide. It was two rows up from the floor and partially blocked by the new bars fastened to the wall. A small hand appeared with the candle held out into the cell. Delicate fingers of the other hand wrapped around cold stone to haul a dark head of hair through the hole. The head turned and he was looking into large eyes with ridiculously long lashes surrounding them.
Smoke could only see the top of her head and the eyes. They blinked at him and then frowned as she struggled to squeeze more of herself through the wall. Finally able to reach the floor and set down the candle stick, she did it carefully without a sound. Glancing at him, head and arms disappeared back into the wall. A second later she reappeared squeezing herself through the opening with grim effort. Her body flowed out of the wall dropping onto the floor at last.
In the pale light of the candle she was actually quiet small as she came to her hunches and gazed at him. Neither made a sound. Her hair was in a ponytail that streamed down her back. She was wearing a dark blue t-shirt with almost worn off images of Peter, Paul and Mary. Below those were beat up blue jeans and what looked like Keds on her feet. He catalogued all that in a glance. It was her face that held his interest. Wide green eyes. Her oval face was perfect with a straight little nose and full lips.
Smoke finally raised a brow in question.
The girl pulled a paper and stubby pencil from her pocked and wrote for a moment, then held the paper up.
“If I scream guards will be here. I will die, but so will you.”
Smoke nodded and raised a brow again. That was some obvious shit. What was interesting was she wrote in English.
By the time the men left again the prisoner’s situation had gone sharply down hill. The ropes had come off but their bodies had been contorted to long. None of them could move as circulation ripped through their veins. So to chain them to the wall in heavy metal collars the guards had kicked them across the floor using the force of boot meeting inert flesh to roll them.
The chain on each collar was not long enough to allow the men to sit or stand. They had to squat to keep from hanging themselves. The collars were new, edges sharp and rough, cutting flesh easily. One couldn’t actually die from hanging himself, the collar would probably sever an artery before he was dead and he’d bleed out. So there they were, crouched with bare feet on freezing stone floor, shivering in the damp, dark cells. The guards flipped off the light as they left. Complete blackness settled around them.
None of them spoke. They had to assume there was a mic in the room.
Damn! This was a major fuckup. They were supposed to be dead. Not captives in some dank, Byzantine dungeon on the wrong side of the line dividing east from west. It was 1970, everyone knew capture was not an option in this silent war. Capture was failure in a big way. It wiped out the fact that they’d succeeded in the original mission. The information they’d been sent for was on its way to Washington. They’d made themselves expendable by getting captured.
No one was coming for them. There would be no official acknowledgment, no negotiations. The mission was to get in and get out or die, nice and quiet. They’d been betrayed. Smoke went over it in his head. Each time he came up with the same conclusion. The tangos had been warned. Luckily the action plan had changed in operation so the capture had only worked for half the team.
A traitor. Well, that changed everything. They were not going to die. Nope, escape was required. The anger coursing through him wound around every other consideration with deadly intent. If this operation had been compromised, so had others and the only men who could have known were the ones who never came back. Time someone came back and fixed the fucking problem.
Eight hours later the three men were squatting silently against the wall. Sleeping was difficult. They had to keep half standing to insure circulation through cramped limbs. No one had brought food or water. There were no arrangements for bodily waste. The air around them was thick and fetid already. There was no way to tell time in the unrelenting dark.
Simply leaving them here would have been very effective on most men. Unfortunately, Smoke mused to himself, the three of them could take this almost indefinitely if they were given sufficient water and food to live.
Suddenly there was a hesitant scratching down the wall towards the bars to Blue’s cell. Smoke didn’t start as pale blue eyes tried to pry into the dark. The noise stopped and started again. It was not in the cell with him. No. The other side of the stone wall he squatted against. The sound stopped again, started again and suddenly he could place it. Stone on stone moving. The inching scrap stopped. When it started Smoke coughed. The action rattled the chain securing him to the wall and successfully obscured the noise as a stone in the wall moved.
It was cold, they were all half naked and coughing was a natural noise. It took the person an amazingly long time to work the stone out of the wall. If this was a rescue, someone needed to spend more time on upper body strength. Smoke waited patiently for the scraping to start again, it didn’t. On either side Blue and Pike were silent as they waited, listening. None of them could see shit.
A flickering light appeared from within the wall and they could see the hole. The opening was perhaps two foot high and close to three wide. It was two rows up from the floor and partially blocked by the new bars fastened to the wall. A small hand appeared with the candle held out into the cell. Delicate fingers of the other hand wrapped around cold stone to haul a dark head of hair through the hole. The head turned and he was looking into large eyes with ridiculously long lashes surrounding them.
Smoke could only see the top of her head and the eyes. They blinked at him and then frowned as she struggled to squeeze more of herself through the wall. Finally able to reach the floor and set down the candle stick, she did it carefully without a sound. Glancing at him, head and arms disappeared back into the wall. A second later she reappeared squeezing herself through the opening with grim effort. Her body flowed out of the wall dropping onto the floor at last.
In the pale light of the candle she was actually quiet small as she came to her hunches and gazed at him. Neither made a sound. Her hair was in a ponytail that streamed down her back. She was wearing a dark blue t-shirt with almost worn off images of Peter, Paul and Mary. Below those were beat up blue jeans and what looked like Keds on her feet. He catalogued all that in a glance. It was her face that held his interest. Wide green eyes. Her oval face was perfect with a straight little nose and full lips.
Smoke finally raised a brow in question.
The girl pulled a paper and stubby pencil from her pocked and wrote for a moment, then held the paper up.
“If I scream guards will be here. I will die, but so will you.”
Smoke nodded and raised a brow again. That was some obvious shit. What was interesting was she wrote in English.
Friday, August 17, 2007
OMG two reviews from Two Lips!!!!
Two seems to be a theme. LOL I'm so honored to have two of those talented reviewers reading WANNA PLAY! I so wish I knew how to put a link in here but since I don't, here are excerpts from both reviews.
Writen by Tara Renee
"Jas is the epitome of strength and determination, having lived through every woman’s nightmare. Her attitude only turns Blaster on; it doesn’t discourage him as it might a weaker man. In fact, Blaster may be the only man on Earth capable of allowing Jas the freedom to be herself. He is the ultimate Alpha male, protective of his woman and strong enough to let her protect him. When Blaster and Jas come together in passion, the scenes explode in an erotic delight, leaving the reader desperate for more. I found myself sad to see the book end, as I would have been content to read for hours more of this incredible book."
Isn't that lovely? Here is the next one.
Written by Joni
"What a rush Wanna Play brought to my senses. This story embodies everything a reader could ask for and more in an action-packed, sexy thriller. ... You just never know what comes next. That's the beauty in the element of surprise, which requires the art of timing that only an author who's honed the craft of storytelling can accomplish and this particular author does well time and again. ... Gail Faulkner is truly gifted when it comes to creating stories that are packed with deep emotion, physical as well as sexual prowess of very yummy alpha heroes, with glimpses of evil that leave you spellbound and gripping the edge of your seat as you turn each page. Blaster and Jas will be forever with me as I'm sure they'll be for other readers long after the story has ended. Wanna Play is the third installment in the Ghost Unit series and is just as great as those preceding it. Bravo Ms. Faulkner for yet another job well done!"
Okay, I should have shortened that more for a post, but dang, I like it to much. LOL
Thank you both. I'm honored you enjoyed the book and wrote so eloquently about it. Now, I have to write a synop, what do you two charge to do it for me????? I wish.
Writen by Tara Renee
"Jas is the epitome of strength and determination, having lived through every woman’s nightmare. Her attitude only turns Blaster on; it doesn’t discourage him as it might a weaker man. In fact, Blaster may be the only man on Earth capable of allowing Jas the freedom to be herself. He is the ultimate Alpha male, protective of his woman and strong enough to let her protect him. When Blaster and Jas come together in passion, the scenes explode in an erotic delight, leaving the reader desperate for more. I found myself sad to see the book end, as I would have been content to read for hours more of this incredible book."
Isn't that lovely? Here is the next one.
Written by Joni
"What a rush Wanna Play brought to my senses. This story embodies everything a reader could ask for and more in an action-packed, sexy thriller. ... You just never know what comes next. That's the beauty in the element of surprise, which requires the art of timing that only an author who's honed the craft of storytelling can accomplish and this particular author does well time and again. ... Gail Faulkner is truly gifted when it comes to creating stories that are packed with deep emotion, physical as well as sexual prowess of very yummy alpha heroes, with glimpses of evil that leave you spellbound and gripping the edge of your seat as you turn each page. Blaster and Jas will be forever with me as I'm sure they'll be for other readers long after the story has ended. Wanna Play is the third installment in the Ghost Unit series and is just as great as those preceding it. Bravo Ms. Faulkner for yet another job well done!"
Okay, I should have shortened that more for a post, but dang, I like it to much. LOL
Thank you both. I'm honored you enjoyed the book and wrote so eloquently about it. Now, I have to write a synop, what do you two charge to do it for me????? I wish.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Sent the story in!!
Okay, submited STEALING CARMEN this morning. No idea when I'll hear if it's accepted. If anyone keeps track, you'll see how long we authors worry each time a story is sent in.
To celibrate, here's another bit of it.
What he deserved was his ass handed to him. He should have been paying more attention to her. Just watching her from a distance and mooning over that ripe ass and those soft tits had been all about him. He’d already failed her by not recognizing her need and seeing that she was coming to a crossroads. It wouldn’t have been this weekend, or next. But he’d bet within a month she’d have taken her beautiful self up to the big city to investigate a lifestyle club. That shit was not going to happen.
“You will have a safe word. Everything stops anytime you want. Using it is not a failure. You will not be afraid to use it. If I suspect you should have used it and didn’t I’ll spank your ass. Understand?” Jack waited for her to nod. “I have to leave in less than twenty-four hours. If we enjoy this, you’ll have time to make up your mind after I leave. So are you willing? Want to know what it feels like to be a submissive?”
Carmen bit her lip as she stared up at him. Then she nodded.
“No, baby. You need to say the words. Say my name and ask to be my submissive. Then tell me your safe word,” he commanded calmly. There was no way he would ever let her feel he’d taken something she didn’t want to give.
Carmen opened her mouth and closed it again. Her legs clenched as a shudder ran up her body. Jack enjoyed the evidence of her excitement. Having to voice her submission while the wicked device buzzed in her cunt was going to make her desperate. His natural submissive was losing her mind. Yep, he was a very bad man. Knowing this, he did nothing to relieve her. He wanted her to associate her submission with sexual pleasure she couldn’t control.
To celibrate, here's another bit of it.
What he deserved was his ass handed to him. He should have been paying more attention to her. Just watching her from a distance and mooning over that ripe ass and those soft tits had been all about him. He’d already failed her by not recognizing her need and seeing that she was coming to a crossroads. It wouldn’t have been this weekend, or next. But he’d bet within a month she’d have taken her beautiful self up to the big city to investigate a lifestyle club. That shit was not going to happen.
“You will have a safe word. Everything stops anytime you want. Using it is not a failure. You will not be afraid to use it. If I suspect you should have used it and didn’t I’ll spank your ass. Understand?” Jack waited for her to nod. “I have to leave in less than twenty-four hours. If we enjoy this, you’ll have time to make up your mind after I leave. So are you willing? Want to know what it feels like to be a submissive?”
Carmen bit her lip as she stared up at him. Then she nodded.
“No, baby. You need to say the words. Say my name and ask to be my submissive. Then tell me your safe word,” he commanded calmly. There was no way he would ever let her feel he’d taken something she didn’t want to give.
Carmen opened her mouth and closed it again. Her legs clenched as a shudder ran up her body. Jack enjoyed the evidence of her excitement. Having to voice her submission while the wicked device buzzed in her cunt was going to make her desperate. His natural submissive was losing her mind. Yep, he was a very bad man. Knowing this, he did nothing to relieve her. He wanted her to associate her submission with sexual pleasure she couldn’t control.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Thank goodness for the voices in my head.
Last week was wonderful and terrible.
I wrote a 20,000 word novella in a week. WONDERFUL. I am now terribly afraid it's not good enough, coz of the short angst time during the writing process. Terrible.
We got an adorable puppy. A Puggle, pug/beagle mix. WONDERFUL. We got a puppy! Terrible. Now I'm on infant time again.
I found a delightful blog reviewing my work that I had no idea was doing it- BDSM REVIEWS http://bdsmreviews.blogspot.com is the address, I am still figuring how to make it a link that works. WONDERFUL. The sites I do know are reviewing did not publish a review yet. Beginning to feel pretty low about that. Terrible
Mrs. Giggles reviewed one of my books. I've arrived! WONDERFUL. Mrs. Giggles reviewed one of my book. RUN for cover!! Terrible. Not really. I don't think she likes me though.
I emailed the Goddess-of-the-Corned that I had another book to submit! WONDERFUL Haven't heard back from her. Terrible.
Life is a mixed bag. Things happen and sometimes they don't. Good thing I have the voices in my head, they always distract me from the real world.
I wrote a 20,000 word novella in a week. WONDERFUL. I am now terribly afraid it's not good enough, coz of the short angst time during the writing process. Terrible.
We got an adorable puppy. A Puggle, pug/beagle mix. WONDERFUL. We got a puppy! Terrible. Now I'm on infant time again.
I found a delightful blog reviewing my work that I had no idea was doing it- BDSM REVIEWS http://bdsmreviews.blogspot.com is the address, I am still figuring how to make it a link that works. WONDERFUL. The sites I do know are reviewing did not publish a review yet. Beginning to feel pretty low about that. Terrible
Mrs. Giggles reviewed one of my books. I've arrived! WONDERFUL. Mrs. Giggles reviewed one of my book. RUN for cover!! Terrible. Not really. I don't think she likes me though.
I emailed the Goddess-of-the-Corned that I had another book to submit! WONDERFUL Haven't heard back from her. Terrible.
Life is a mixed bag. Things happen and sometimes they don't. Good thing I have the voices in my head, they always distract me from the real world.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Choose a title
I couldn’t stand it any more! It doesn’t look like I’ll have any one of the longer novels ready for the editor before at least November. That means no more releases ‘til next year! Akkkkk. A girl needs her releases!
So I determined to write a Quicky. 15,000 words and well, it should be simple. Actually I started it Monday and just sent it to my amazing critique partner today. But I failed with the 15,000 word thing. It’s a little over 18,000, sorry.
My problem is, I hate the name I gave the story. Here are three that would be much more interesting. Which one do YOU like?
1. Remember Your Safe Word
2. WARNING: Reading BDSM may cause submission
3. Insatiable
Here are the first couple paragraphs of the book to give you a feel for the story.
Chapter One
“These books should come with a freaking warning. Reading may cause insatiable urges to submit, however, only one real dominant per zip code is permitted.” She laughed at herself and continued. “I’ve only met one guy who might be a real Dom, and that’s discouraging. What’s a needy woman supposed to do?” The phone to her ear, Casey was totally relaxed on the lounge, eyes closed, face turned up to the late afternoon sun.
He’d never seen Casey in a tiny bikini before. Jack’s eyes moved with greedy intensity over the undulating expanse of exposed flesh. Sweet Mother of God! He’d imagined this body over and over again. Usually while trying to block out his ugly surroundings in some revolting location. Looking at the real thing he could see he’d been mistaken. She was actually blindingly fuckable. He’d always called her damn fuckable. But a man could indeed go blind beating off to that vision.
She paused and laughed softly at the response from her phone. Jack wasn’t paying attention to the conversation but the breathy laugh sank into his bones.
Neighbours for the last two years, they shared a duplex. Sorta shared a duplex. He was only here for down time. This location was relatively remote but did have a small airport. He’d found it ideal for hiding from his life when he had the time. Casey moving into the other side of this lone duplex had just added to the charm of standing on his back patio. Or looking out his front window, or pretending he was going for a walk in the woods.
The cold beer in his hand was forgotten. He hadn’t expected her to be home form work this time of day and it was apparent she hadn’t heard him arrive twelve hours ago. His entrance was all she would have heard, he’d crashed. Been out ‘til five minutes ago.
It was obvious she almost never lay out in the sun. The expanse of creamy curves was only a light gold. His eyes prowled over gorgeous, plump breasts that nearly spilled out of the stupid little top, bulging in glorious natural abandon to the side of her body. Casey was not slender. Her curves were opulent and she usually covered them with way to much clothing, he’d bet she’d never worn that bikini anywhere but this back yard.
The beer went absently to his lips as his eyes moved lower over softly smooth belly and down to rounded hips. Oh sweet Jesus. The scrap of material coming up between her legs moulded a naked pussy. He’d put money on the fact that shy, sweetly nervous Casey shaved her cunt.
Absorbing that knowledge required he study the evidence. Her legs were slightly parted and the material of her suit strained, moulding the intimate details of her pussy with no springy curls holding it off.
I also don't really like the name Casey for the heroine. But I want something with a K sound. I'm thinking Carolynn, Casandra, Kensington.....do ya like any of those?
thanks for commenting, Gail
So I determined to write a Quicky. 15,000 words and well, it should be simple. Actually I started it Monday and just sent it to my amazing critique partner today. But I failed with the 15,000 word thing. It’s a little over 18,000, sorry.
My problem is, I hate the name I gave the story. Here are three that would be much more interesting. Which one do YOU like?
1. Remember Your Safe Word
2. WARNING: Reading BDSM may cause submission
3. Insatiable
Here are the first couple paragraphs of the book to give you a feel for the story.
Chapter One
“These books should come with a freaking warning. Reading may cause insatiable urges to submit, however, only one real dominant per zip code is permitted.” She laughed at herself and continued. “I’ve only met one guy who might be a real Dom, and that’s discouraging. What’s a needy woman supposed to do?” The phone to her ear, Casey was totally relaxed on the lounge, eyes closed, face turned up to the late afternoon sun.
He’d never seen Casey in a tiny bikini before. Jack’s eyes moved with greedy intensity over the undulating expanse of exposed flesh. Sweet Mother of God! He’d imagined this body over and over again. Usually while trying to block out his ugly surroundings in some revolting location. Looking at the real thing he could see he’d been mistaken. She was actually blindingly fuckable. He’d always called her damn fuckable. But a man could indeed go blind beating off to that vision.
She paused and laughed softly at the response from her phone. Jack wasn’t paying attention to the conversation but the breathy laugh sank into his bones.
Neighbours for the last two years, they shared a duplex. Sorta shared a duplex. He was only here for down time. This location was relatively remote but did have a small airport. He’d found it ideal for hiding from his life when he had the time. Casey moving into the other side of this lone duplex had just added to the charm of standing on his back patio. Or looking out his front window, or pretending he was going for a walk in the woods.
The cold beer in his hand was forgotten. He hadn’t expected her to be home form work this time of day and it was apparent she hadn’t heard him arrive twelve hours ago. His entrance was all she would have heard, he’d crashed. Been out ‘til five minutes ago.
It was obvious she almost never lay out in the sun. The expanse of creamy curves was only a light gold. His eyes prowled over gorgeous, plump breasts that nearly spilled out of the stupid little top, bulging in glorious natural abandon to the side of her body. Casey was not slender. Her curves were opulent and she usually covered them with way to much clothing, he’d bet she’d never worn that bikini anywhere but this back yard.
The beer went absently to his lips as his eyes moved lower over softly smooth belly and down to rounded hips. Oh sweet Jesus. The scrap of material coming up between her legs moulded a naked pussy. He’d put money on the fact that shy, sweetly nervous Casey shaved her cunt.
Absorbing that knowledge required he study the evidence. Her legs were slightly parted and the material of her suit strained, moulding the intimate details of her pussy with no springy curls holding it off.
I also don't really like the name Casey for the heroine. But I want something with a K sound. I'm thinking Carolynn, Casandra, Kensington.....do ya like any of those?
thanks for commenting, Gail
Friday, August 3, 2007
The boy can't help himself....
Unedited manuscript, proceed with caution.
I just adore that Jackson Travis...
“We’ve cleared up why we both want this. There are no misconceptions or pressures besides the way we affect each other. In the light of logic you know who I am. What I am. I want you Angelina Marie. I intend to have you,” Travis lean into her, his mouth a breath above her lips, “I have no problem playing dirty.”
His fingers slowly lifted off her lips, trailing down her chin to her exposed, slender neck. His hand opened to wrap long fingers around the pale column. “After this moment, I have no intention of playing fair,” Travis confessed softly. “But I promise, you’ll never be in danger. You’ll never be board or lonely. And most of all, you will never need to step off that cliff again.”
His hand on her neck was a warm, firm collar that was all Travis. It didn’t frighten her. His holding her in this dangerous grip was strangely safe. It felt safe. It reminded her physically how much bigger he was. How much stronger. He could hurt her at any moment. The hand was there to make her think about that as she made a choice. Knowing his nature and his intentions made the move so achingly tender. He might say he wouldn’t play fair, but he was. He couldn’t help himself.
I just adore that Jackson Travis...
“We’ve cleared up why we both want this. There are no misconceptions or pressures besides the way we affect each other. In the light of logic you know who I am. What I am. I want you Angelina Marie. I intend to have you,” Travis lean into her, his mouth a breath above her lips, “I have no problem playing dirty.”
His fingers slowly lifted off her lips, trailing down her chin to her exposed, slender neck. His hand opened to wrap long fingers around the pale column. “After this moment, I have no intention of playing fair,” Travis confessed softly. “But I promise, you’ll never be in danger. You’ll never be board or lonely. And most of all, you will never need to step off that cliff again.”
His hand on her neck was a warm, firm collar that was all Travis. It didn’t frighten her. His holding her in this dangerous grip was strangely safe. It felt safe. It reminded her physically how much bigger he was. How much stronger. He could hurt her at any moment. The hand was there to make her think about that as she made a choice. Knowing his nature and his intentions made the move so achingly tender. He might say he wouldn’t play fair, but he was. He couldn’t help himself.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Waiting for Reivews....
As an author I love/adore/need to hear reader response on a book. But I also want to know what reviewers see in the book as.
I'm not here to argue one way or the other on the impact professional reviews have on a book's sales or it's best use for toilet paper ratings. Reviews are a fact of life. They are supposed to be a way for readers to gage.....something....again I sense a hot topic here and am avoiding it.
What I am trying to say, and speaking only for me, I enjoy getting reviews from review sites. I want to know what they think of the book on a scale of One to whatever awards they give out. I wanna know how I'm doing.
So this summer it seems getting a review is taking forever. I can't help but think that means my writing is getting less interesting. It feels like a negative to me. So talking to a reviewer I found out an amazing thing. Reviewers often get and read a great number of books and put off writing the review for up to six weeks.
WHAT? After six weeks and no review I'm sure everyone hated the book!! I'm contemplating taking a hammer to the keyboard after four weeks. Depression has set in, I've quit brushing my teeth and have begun existing entirely on M & M for their medicinal qualities.
Just saying, authors really are needy creatures. Six weeks to wait for a review is torture. Take that into consideration next time you finish a book and love it, but go on to read the next book, putting off writing that review. Somewhere an author just lost a tooth due to chocolate overdose because she's sure everyone hates her book.
I'm not here to argue one way or the other on the impact professional reviews have on a book's sales or it's best use for toilet paper ratings. Reviews are a fact of life. They are supposed to be a way for readers to gage.....something....again I sense a hot topic here and am avoiding it.
What I am trying to say, and speaking only for me, I enjoy getting reviews from review sites. I want to know what they think of the book on a scale of One to whatever awards they give out. I wanna know how I'm doing.
So this summer it seems getting a review is taking forever. I can't help but think that means my writing is getting less interesting. It feels like a negative to me. So talking to a reviewer I found out an amazing thing. Reviewers often get and read a great number of books and put off writing the review for up to six weeks.
WHAT? After six weeks and no review I'm sure everyone hated the book!! I'm contemplating taking a hammer to the keyboard after four weeks. Depression has set in, I've quit brushing my teeth and have begun existing entirely on M & M for their medicinal qualities.
Just saying, authors really are needy creatures. Six weeks to wait for a review is torture. Take that into consideration next time you finish a book and love it, but go on to read the next book, putting off writing that review. Somewhere an author just lost a tooth due to chocolate overdose because she's sure everyone hates her book.
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