Writer Wednesday – A few of my favorite things

A lot of writers get asked what kind of tools they use when writing and editing.  Here are a few of mine:

Books

The Romance Writer’s Phrase book by Jean Kent and Candice Shelton – It’s a handy little phrase book, used for tag lines, body language, etc.

A more updated version would be The Emotional Thesaurus by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi.   I use these books when I’m in the layer process of my book.   I used to use them during the rough draft, but found I got too bogged down with particulars rather than just writing the damn book.

The Novel Writer’s Toolkit by Bob Mayer – I have an old copy of this, but found it useful for understanding aspects of the business like Sell-thrus and royalties.   I believe he has an updated version.

And of course I have a Thesaurus, Dictionary and Two Style Guides.

Online Tools

Pinterest – I use Pinterest to store a lot of my pictures for characters, setting, clothes, etc.   Of course you can totally get lost on there.

First Draught – I have to give a shout-out to these ladies, because they cover a range of topics and they talk about everything from craft to publishing.  I love their Vlog!

Jenna Moreci – Jenna is a YA Indie Writer and she has this Vlog where her topics are humorous and based on her writing experience.   I highly recommend this if you are exploring Self-publishing or are a YA writer.

Google Keep  – I sort of stumbled across this recently and use it in place of Scrivener.    I make up all these little notes on characters, settings and scenes I need to write and then I can have it on the side of my Google Doc.   I’m sort of envious of Scrivener, but the feature I was really wanting was to replace my post-it plotting system that I learned from Cherry Adair.

Last week I covered the importance of finding your tribe, and of course my tribes are some of my favorite things.

~Tina

 

 

 

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Saturday Sexcerpt – Nightwalker by Rhonda Print

Welcome back naughty boys and girls!

Today we are reading an excerpt from Rhonda Print’s Nightwalker available at Liquid Silver Books.

Ian took my hand and led me to a glass-enclosed atrium. Stars glittered above me through the glass ceiling and the desert outside was backdropped by the mountain range. A jetted spa that trickled a waterfall into a large swimming pool illuminated the room. Palm trees surrounded the edge of the spa, providing privacy. Wow.

“It’s like an oasis in the desert.” I spoke softly so as not to disturb the natural peace in the room. Like talking in a library.

Ian walked over to a large stone bench and sat. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his pale skin and muscles hidden beneath. I silently gasped and felt a wave of desire heat my body. Each muscle flexed and tensed as he moved to kick off his boots; then pulled his socks over his feet. As he bent and exposed his back, I couldn’t help but admire the breadth of his shoulders, my eyes following his spine down to his narrowing back and waist. His wavy black hair fell over his face and I was left with a view of his neck. I had the sudden urge to run my tongue along his exposed neckline to his kissable mouth. I wanted to slide my hands over the strong shoulders and let them slowly caress a path down his chest and along the expanse of his stomach, tracing the trail of soft, dark hair that led from his navel and disappeared under the denim of his jeans. I wanted to feel his hands fist in my hair as I explored his body.

I shook myself out of the thought.

My face blazed red as I saw Ian’s eyes bore into mine, the look of passion on his face that a man gets when he knows you’re interested in more than just conversation.

You can buy Rhonda’s Book here:

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Saturday Sexcerpt – Beauty and the Bastard by David Bridger

Beauty and the BastardThe bedroom and attached bathroom were still slightly steamy from Rebecca’s shower. He smelled fresh hay and grasses and honey. Her fragrances. He breathed in her presence for some moments, before twisting the shower tap and filling the tiled room with billows of new steam.

The tension of his neck and shoulders always surprised him, and he zoned out for a while under the strong hot jet. But his thoughts returned to her, as they’d kept returning to her all day, no matter how many times he turned them away.

Sitting just a few feet away from him, right now, glowing from her shower. Brushing her hair last night, striking sparks and shooting stars through the velvet darkness of his imagination. Holding onto his arm as if she’d never let go when they ran to safety after the attack. Standing naked in her window, smiling, using both hands to twist her hair into some kind of knot at the back of her head, her pert breasts and lovely nipples lifting towards him while the firm swell of her belly and luxurious red hair of her mound enticed him.

His balls ached and his cock hurt so bad he thought it might burst. He lathered himself with soap and rubbed slowly. The pressure built from deep inside as he continued to rub his cock. In a few more seconds, he would come. He’d never gotten so close before, but he knew he’d almost reached the point of no return.

 He stopped.

His cock throbbed and twitched. Blood pounded in his head, and his heart thudded fit to bust out of his chest. Stars danced behind his tightly closed eyelids as the dangerous rhythmical pulsing in his groin subsided.

This was wrong. So wrong. When he fell from heaven, he’d gained the sexual needs and desires of a human. He didn’t want them, but he’d gotten them. He’d known from the start that it would be a terrible temptation, so he’d decided to remain celibate. His ultimate destination was heaven. Return to heaven. Nothing should stop that. He wouldn’t let anyone come between him and heaven. Not after all this time. Not when he might be so close.

He twisted the tap savagely and rested his forehead on the tiles to let cold water blast him.

Wow…if you’d like to read more about Beauty and the Bastard click the link below.

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Saturday Sexcerpt – Taste of Honey by PG Forte

When I asked PG if she had a sexy excerpt this was her answer.

A:  Here’s one. It’s an oldie but (hopefully) a goodie. This is from A Taste of Honey (Oberon, book 4) and it’s always been one of my favorite scenes.

Dan opened his eyes again when he felt Lucy crawl up from the bottom of the bed to slide on top of him.  There was a steady fire burning in her eyes now, and a tiny hint of a smile on her lips.  But before he’d had a chance to process any of it, she’d lowered her head and kissed him, full on the mouth; her tongue practically demanding entrance, sinking home as soon as he opened for it.

            He reached for her again, half expecting that she’d push his hands away.  When she didn’t, his hold on her tightened.  Wrapping one arm across her back, spearing his other hand up into her hair, he held her motionless, trapped against him, as he kissed her back with a fierceness so intense that even he was startled by it.  He felt the shuddered intake of her breath, and then she was settling herself more fully on top of him, all her softness pressing against him.   

             “Yes!”  He wasn’t sure if he’d growled the word aloud, or merely thought and felt it, as it reverberated through him.  Oh, man, she felt so damn good.  But she was just plain crazy if she thought he could give her up again after tonight.  He rolled until he had her pinned beneath him.  He’d never have enough of her.  Never.  Never.  Never. 

            And he was never going to let her go, either.  So, she could just forget about that part, ‘cause that was not gonna happen.

            He lifted his head, ready to look her in the eye and tell her how it was going to be, but she opened lambent, slumberous eyes to gaze back up at him, and his breath caught in his throat.  The words he’d been planning to say just died on his lips.  Ah, God, he loved her.  He’d always loved her, and he didn’t suppose he was ever going to stop.  But, who was he kidding?  He wasn’t the one calling the shots here anymore.  If he ever had been.  And if she really wanted to go, or wanted him gone, what could he do about it?

            Nothing, that’s what. 

            But nobody was going anywhere tonight.

            He bent his head to kiss her again.  A soft sip of a kiss, this time.  Their lips barely touching, barely tasting, before he’d pulled away to look at her again, to enjoy the heat that flared in her eyes, and in her cheeks.  He altered the angle of his head a little and bent to kiss her again, just as softly.  And then he did it again, and again, and–

            He felt her shift beneath him with restless urgency.  Her breath came out on an impatient whimper.  And when her lips tried to hold to his longer, to draw the kisses out, to make them last, he made them swifter, shallower, even shorter than before.

            Now it was his turn–when she reached up, hands trembling, to hold him still–to pull those hands away and pin them to the bed, to lower his mouth to within several centimeters of hers and…pause there.  Moving–just slightly–from side to side, but never any closer, touching her lips only with his breath.  And then, almost as lightly, with his tongue.

He raised his head again.  Her eyes were dark, smoldering coals.  Now, he thought suddenly, ask her now!  If he asked her for anything right now, she’d give it to him.  She’d promise him forever as the price for just one kiss.  But what good were the words she spoke tonight, if tomorrow they’d be recanted?  They’d be even more worthless than his own foolish promise had been.  Never to ask her for anything more?  How could he ever hope to keep to that?

            “Dan?”  Her voice was barely a breath of a sound.  Her tongue ran nervously over her lips, and he could read desire and worry and confusion in her eyes.  And if he thought he saw anything else there, well, what of it?  There had to be something left of all the love they’d shared, didn’t there?  A faint trace, one tiny spark.  Whatever it was, it was his.  He smiled as he gazed into her eyes.  His.  He’d put it there, and it belonged to him.  And if he chose to use that spark tonight, to warm away all the cold places in his soul, well, he had that right.  

            He felt her breath catch, felt the tremor that went through her, and then her lips curved up in an answering smile.  And if he chose to believe that the worry and confusion he had seen in her eyes a moment earlier had disappeared, swallowed up by the heat; if he chose to believe that his spark had caught fire, and that the look on her face now, was one he’d seen there countless times before, well he had that right, too.

            Even knowing it was probably illusion, a mirage, an echo from a lifetime ago, he would take it.  Even knowing that it was a dream that might melt away come morning, and that tomorrow she would most likely look at him, instead, the way she had earlier today, and all last week–  But no, he wouldn’t think about that, right now.  He wouldn’t think about tomorrow, or forever, or any time beyond tonight. 

            And tonight…tonight he wouldn’t think of anything at all, except the woman in his bed.  He let go of her hands then, and he bent his head, and he kissed her, hard.  And when he felt her hands reach up to hold him, and when she kissed him back, he gladly went up in flames for her.

Remember you find PG here:

website:                    www.pgforte.com

blog:                         www.rhymeswithforeplay.blogspot.com

yahoo group:            http://groups.yahoo.com/group/pgforte/

newsletter:                www.openzine.com/oberon

myspace:                   www.myspace.com/pgforte

facebook:                 www.facebook.com/pgforte

twitter:                      www.twitter.com/pgforte

Thanks for joining me today.  See you with a new author next week.

Tina

Saturday Sexcerpt – Double Dare by Jeanne St. James

Here is an excerpt from Jeanne’s newest release, Double Dare

            When Logan glanced up again, he saw a pink vision stalking toward him and he sat up straighter. Shit, the cause of his earlier hard-on was coming his way.

            Shit, she looked determined and she still had a grip around that glass like it was a lifeline.

            She stopped directly in front of him and put one hand on her hip.

            “Are you Logan Reed?”

            Oh, shit. “Yes?”

            “You don’t know for sure?”

            “Oh, I’m sure.”

            “Are you fucking anybody right now?”

            “Right this minute?” He glanced around to see if anyone else was hearing this surreal conversation. Luckily, no one was paying attention.

            “No. Do you have anyone who is going to get mad if I ask you to dance?”

            “Uh. No.” Well, hell, that was a unique way of asking someone to dance.

            She placed her drink on the table and he asked, “Is that still your second one?”

            “No, third.”

            “I was afraid of that.”

            She grabbed his hand and pulled but he was too heavy to lift, so he unfolded himself from the chair to accommodate her.

            “Are you asking me to dance?”

            “You have a problem with that?”

            “Not at all.” He interlaced his fingers with hers and led her to a corner of the dance floor. Luckily for him, the D.J. had turned the lights down and was playing a series of slow tunes. Ones he could dance to. There was no way he was doing the chicken dance or line dancing. He had his limits.

            As the slow, wailing tune blared through the large speakers, Logan slid his palms around her waist, his splayed fingers coming to rest at the small of her back. The fabric of her dress felt terrible and he didn’t know why women wore shit like this and suffered. The dress certainly wasn’t flattering.

            But it wasn’t the outer package that mattered, it was what you found when you unwrapped it.

            He stepped in a little closer and pulled her hips closer to his. He swore he heard a little gasp. He smiled into her over-styled, dark blonde hair and nuzzled it. Underneath all the hairspray, he caught a scent of wildflowers. It smelled nice.

            “What’s your name?” He murmured into her hair.

            “What?” She turned her head a bit and she ended up nuzzling his neck. Her lips, the shape which reminded him of an archer’s bow, were warm and soft and he could detect the fruity scent of the Slammers on her breath.

            She was average height for a woman, which made her a bit shorter than him, so he had to lean down a bit to place his lips against her ear.

            “What’s your name?”

            He felt the shiver of her body against him, so he traced the delicate shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue. The touch was light enough, but she unmistakably felt it. In response, she arched her back slightly, pressing her hips into his.

            “Quinn,” she finally answered him, her voice breathless.

            “Quinn,” he repeated while moving one hand up her back to the bare skin rising out of her dress. He drew the pad of his thumb along the smooth expanse of flesh, along her exposed spine and then moved up to her neck to cradle it in his palm. His thumb continued to stroke her skin along the vein in her neck.

            He pulled away a little and looked down into her face. Her eyes were heavy and her lips were parted. Her breaths were short and quick.

            He struggled to keep from thrusting against her. If she looked this good in that God-awful dress, he wondered what she looked like in normal clothes. Or no clothes at all.

            Or in just a pair of handcuffs.

            His balls tightened and he released a long breath out of his nose to steady his pulse.

            “Quinn, do you like sex?” He placed his cheek against hers and they swayed to the music, their hips, their thighs brushing against each other.

            Her eyelids fluttered a bit before she answered, “Sometimes.”

            “Why only sometimes?” he whispered against her ear.

            She shrugged slightly and one of her off-the-shoulder sleeves slid down a bit exposing more creamy flesh.

            Logan brushed his lips along her collar-bone. It was delicate and covered with smooth skin. When he got to her shoulder he worked his way back, and in the hollow of her neck he placed a kiss.

            There was a groan. He didn’t know who it came from. Her. Him. He didn’t care. His hand at the small of her back slipped lower, to just where the rise of her ass was. The dress’ fabric kept him from feeling details, but his imagination took over.

            One song transitioned into another and they weren’t even aware of the other couples dancing nearby.

            His hips kept a steady side to side rhythm, while his hand on her back kept her close and in perfect time with him.

            He was hard. There was no doubt she could feel it. Even with the yards of fabric around her midsection, her belly was brushing against his length, teasing his cock.

            “What kind of sex do you like?” His voice sounded low and gruff to his own ears.

            “The kind when I get to come.”

            Logan chuckled against her temple and slipped the hand he had around her neck to her shoulder. His fingers brushed her skin lightly. He couldn’t help but notice goose bumps suddenly appearing everywhere he touched her. That meant her nipples were hard. Probably so hard and aching for his fingers and mouth.

            Her dress had slipped down a bit and the neckline rode low on her chest. The fabric was resting just on the crest of her breasts; he could see she wasn’t wearing a bra. In fact, he thought he could see the crescent edge of one nipple, even in the dim light.

            He wanted to dip his tongue between her breasts.

            “Quinn?”

            “Hmm?”

            “Why did you ask me to dance?”

            “Because my friends…” Her soft voice faded off.

            “Your friends?” he prodded.

            “My friends dared me to. They think I am such a loser when it comes to men.”

            “Ah.”

            “I always pick Mr. Wrong.”

            “Am I supposed to be Mr. Right?” He brushed the back of his knuckles over the rise of her breasts.

            “No. Just Mr. Right Now.”

            “So you just want to use me.”

            “Basically.”

Saturday Sexcerpt – Prime Obsession by Monette Michaels

 

 Welcome back Monette who shares a sexy excerpt from Prime Obession:

            The Prime had witnessed her passage and rearmed the trap.  Even if she’d missed slitting the Erian’s throat properly, the trap would efficiently finish the lizard off.  Her back trail was covered.

            “Thanks,” she said loudly, not sure where or how sensitive the microphones were in the tunnel.

            “You’re welcome, Melina.”

            She recognized that voice.  It wasn’t the male that had issued the distress call, but she had met the man on Tooh 2.

            “Iolyn?  Huw?”  She smiled at the live camera to her right.

            “It’s Iolyn, Melina.  Welcome on board the Galanti.”

             “Glad I could make it.  What’s it look like ahead?’

            “Trouble,” growled a low, unknown male voice.

            Well, not exactly unknown.  That was the voice on the distress call.  And as it had on the jump station, the voice sent fingers of heat throughout her body.  She forced back a low moan as she rubbed at her hip.  Heat like she’d never experienced radiated from the marking that she’d had for as far back as she could remember.  Her birthmark as her mother had always called it.

            “Who’s that?” She frowned, shaking off the unusual sensations caused by the unknown speaker.  “What kind of trouble?  Trap or pirate?” Or, you?

            “Me,” rumbled the same male.

            Mel gulped.  That was what she’d been afraid of.  Damn, her extra senses were really working spot on this trip.

            “Melina,” Iolyn said, his voice practically drenched with suppressed amusement.  “Meet my brother, Wulf.  He is the captain of this ship.”

            “Iolyn, he doesn’t sound very grateful that I’m here to help rid his ship of pirates.”

            “You should have sent one of your men,” snarled Wulf.  “This is no place for a woman.”

            Mel sighed and bit back the harsh retort. Okay, sexy-to-die-for voice in the body of a male chauvinist.  Well, no one ever promised allying with the Prime military would be easy.  Alliance female soldiers would just have to prove themselves. Beginning with her.

            “Sorry, Captain.”  Not.  “But I’m the only one who speaks or reads Prime.”

            She started forward once more, found the Prime words for the engine room and followed the correct tunnel.  “Besides, I couldn’t risk my men.  By the way, I do hope you’ve turned off the self-destruct.  There are now two squadrons of Alliance battle-cruisers lying immediately outside the danger zone waiting for the all clear.”

            “Can you give it now?”  Wulf’s voice was calmer, not as snarly and filled with anger as before.

            She wasn’t sure why she could read this man’s moods so easily, but she could.  And why in the hell did it make her feel calm that he was calm?   She’d never made it a practice to worry about any man’s moods.

            “There’s something blocking external communications,” she explained as she cautiously approached an access panel to a hallway labeled the weapons deck. “We tried to hail you before we boarded the ship.”

            Wulf’s curses came across the speakers clearly.  The growl was back in his voice. 

            Mel laughed.  “Those are some new words for me. I learned your language from ancient texts. My contemporary colloquial knowledge of your language is lacking, I’m afraid.  I caught bhau, balls or testicles, but what is ansu?”

            “You don’t need to know,” growled Wulf. “It is not – – ”

            Iolyn laughed and cut his brother’s next, undoubtedly sexist, remark off.  “In your language, the closest translation is ‘devil.’”

            “Ansu bhau.  Devil’s balls.”  She grinned.  “Can’t wait to use it on an Antarean.”

            “You will never get near an Antarean, if I have anything to say about it,” bellowed Wulf.

            Staying alert to her surroundings, she wondered why Wulf sounded so possessive, because that was how she read his voice.  And since when could she read voices?  Her psi abilities usually only worked when she was in close proximity with the person she read. Maybe his emotions were stronger and traveled farther. She mentally shrugged.

            “Well, it’s a good thing that I answer only to the Alliance Military, then, isn’t it?” She stopped and opened her senses wide, seeking another presence in the tunnel ahead.  “Besides, I killed two Antareans just over sixty hours ago – – and wounded and left to die two Erians in this tunnel.  They’re dead.  I’m not.  ‘Nuff said.”

 Copyright, Monette Michaels, 2009.

Thanks, Tina for letting me come and play at your blog. 

Monette Michaels/Rae Morgan 

Any time Monette!  It was wonderful having you come and visit.

Saturday Sexcerpt – Safe from the Flames by Sandra Sookoo

This is an excerpt from Sandra’s  recently released Liquid Silver novella Safe from the Flames

 A soft sound from within the bathroom jarred her from her reflection. As Hadyn opened her eyes and debated the merits of peeking out, a hand snaked around the edge of the curtain, wrenching it open. Darren stood before her, his eyes dark with emotion.

“What’s wrong?” Profound panic flooded her insides as she scrambled to cover her nakedness as he stared. “Darren?” His intense gaze raked her from the soles of her feet to the roots of her hair, intimate as if he’d physically touched her.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need to be with you. Here. Now.” He joined her in the tub, fully clothed except for his shoes and socks. Those were missing. “I can’t explain it, and don’t want to argue with it.” With an air of finality, he pulled the curtain closed.

She blinked the water from her eyes as he voiced the same thing she felt. “But your clothes…” Her words died away when he pulled her into his arms. The water drummed into her back. She slipped her arms around his neck to rub her fingers over his close-cropped hair.

“I figure if we’re gonna do this, we might as well start with the cold shower and keep your body heat down for as long as possible.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “And trust me, we’re gonna do this. I can’t ignore the pull anymore.”

Regardless of the constant stream of water, liquid heat shot through her body to gather between her thighs. Hadyn met his gaze, caught in the green depths, willing to drown, then she tugged his head down and captured his mouth with a tentative kiss. He tasted sweet, like cherry-flavored hard candy, and she idly wondered if he kept such a thing in his truck, but then everything flew out of her mind except him. The tensed muscles of his shoulders beneath her fingers, the feel of his powerful hands as they gripped her waist, the masculine smell of him, citrus and sweat combined.

She sighed against his mouth, sucked on his bottom lip and grinned when he groaned and tightened his arms around her. She surrendered herself to him in that moment as she nipped a path along his jaw, stroking the stubble-covered skin with her tongue, tasting salt, and continued her quest down his strong throat, feeling the corded muscle beneath his skin. When she discovered a sensitive spot beneath his left ear, she teased the area until Darren growled and turned them both around, pressing her back into the tiled wall.

Tremors of need built within her, increasing with intensity as he held her wrists above her head with one hand while the other teased a nipple, worked it into a hard, tight bud. Hadyn whimpered and tried to pull out of his grasp. His body blocked most of the shower water. She stood, shivering with cold and need. He rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, holding her gaze, smiling when she moaned. Finally, he released her wrists but used both hands to torment her breasts, giving them both equal attention before he added his mouth.

“Darren, oh yes, like that.” Breathless, pleasure swallowed her words with a sigh when his teeth closed over a sensitized bud. She slid her hands down his wet t-shirt to grip his tight, denim-covered buns. “Get out of these clothes. I want to see you.” She ran her hands around his waist then under his shirt. Her fingertips traced each defined plane, each sculpted muscled on that magnificent chest.

“Not yet.” He grabbed a bottle of vanilla-scented body wash and poured a fair amount into his palm. “I want to feel every inch of you first.”

“Oh.” Her mouth worked, but no sound came out as Darren worked the soap into a rich, thick lather and smoothed it over her shoulders, pushing it down over her arms and chest.

“Turn around.”

She didn’t argue. Her body practically hummed under his ministrations. The soap slicked her skin and Darren’s hands slid all over. He lifted each breast, worked the lather over the skin over her stomach, skimmed along her hips until her fingernails scratched at the beige tiles. “Darren.” She tried to face him, but he nipped at her earlobe.

“Not yet.”

Heat licked through her bloodstream. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart hammered so hard she feared it might explode. His hands caressed her back, smoothed the soap down over her buttocks, but when his fingers slipped between her legs, the heat erupted into a raging bonfire.

Hadyn froze as fear paralyzed her. She would burst into flames right here in the tub, regardless of the water that intermittently trickled past Darren’s broad shoulders. “I need to go before it gets dangerous.”

“No, baby, you need this.” He coaxed a finger along her slit, barely skimming her opening. “And yes, it will get dangerous, but that’s part of the fun.”

You can buy a copy of Safe from the flames here:

www.liquidsilverbooks.com

Until next time – Be Naughty,

Tina