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 – Bedtime Stories for a Stolen Child by Anna Mayle

 

Something was tickling his thigh. Light, almost not a touch, it was moving over the skin on the inside of his leg just firm enough to brush the soft pale hairs there and cause the laughter inducing sensation.

Daniel squirmed and gasped lightly when the touch brushed deliciously close to his balls. He licked his lips and canted his hips just a bit forward to capture the feeling. It was still soft, soft and smooth, some separate touches but others all in a line and held together. The softest razor edge he’d ever experienced. Like a feather.

A feather! He stilled, unwilling to move the blanket lest he see something he didn’t want to. It was like the nightmares he’d had as a child, of being surrounded by creatures who meant him harm and being unable to move in case they saw him. He used to hide his head under the covers and lay there, panting and terrified until the sunlight scared away the shadows, but this time, he couldn’t hide that way. The monster was under the blanket with him.

That touch moved again and the muscles of his thigh jumped, a full body shiver wracking his broad frame. He was ashamed that it wasn’t completely fear which caused it. Near enough, though. It took all of his will to move a hand, slowly, toward the sensation. Waiting for those sharp fangs to bite down, waiting to come into contact with knotted and feather strewn hair.

I shouldn’t be this terrified. I’m a full grown man! I shouldn’t be afraid of monsters in the dark!

He despised the owlish creature for stealing away his comfort and giving him such a childish fear. At least he wasn’t hiding in the closet. God, no, the closet would mean he wasn’t in my bed! Why couldn’t he . . . no, it. It’s an it! One crisis of identity at a time, thank you! Why couldn’t it be a closet monster? Closet monster. Good God, tell me I’m dreaming. This is a nightmare. Delusion. I’m going insane. I never recovered from the accident and I’m laying in a coma somewhere, living a nightmare world inside of my head!

He felt his own leg and shifted the hand inward, down his hip and up around the outer thigh. Any moment . . .

Then he felt it, and his hand clamped down. Jumping into an upright position, he yanked the offending thing up to meet his eyes.

A feather. A single owl’s feather which had slipped into his briefs, probably from that ridiculous nest he’d been laying in before.

He closed his eyes in the exhaustion that only comes from the sudden absence of fear and gave a hiccupping sound. It might have been a laugh if not for the hollow and desperate edge to it. Crushing the feather in his fist, he fell back to the pillow.

Wait, I wasn’t wearing briefs.

His eyes opened wide, and he screamed when he came face to face with an owl’s gaze and that mouth with its Cheshire grin.

“Stole my face,” it accused, and reached for him.

 Daniel slammed his head into the wall when he jerked into wakefulness. He swore and bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed. His cock was straining in his Y-fronts as if he’d had an amazing wet dream, and he drew his legs up to himself, hiding the offending organ from his own eyes, hiding his depravity. Something was wrong with him. But he should be glad, right? It was only a dream.

The feather, crumpled and broken in his fist, mocked him.

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:

BUY

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 – 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.