Wednesday 27 February 2013

Vampires, and Werewolves, and Writing. Oh My!

Hey guys I got to sit down today with the lovely and talented Nicole Fergusson  to talk about writing Vampires and Werewolves and all manner of unworldly creatures. Check it out:
About Me
Nicole has been writing for almost as long as she can remember. Her writing career started in grade four with Enid Blyton's *Naughtiest Girl in the School* fan-fiction and quickly spread across to problematically titled short stories about a group of school kids with super powers called *Twilight Zone*. (12 year old Nicole was unfortunately unaware that there was another popular series sharing this title...)

Her biggest inspirations were writers like Isobelle Carmody who had first novels published from an early age. At 24 years old Nicole had her e-book published and now, five years later, she has released the new novel *Gothic*, first in the 'Shadows of Melbourne' series.

Her books can be found on
 Amazon (kindle)

Barnes and Noble (nook)

And the publisher website
 Leap of Faith  

Currently Nicole has contracted the second novel in this series *Revelry,* with Leap of
 Faith Publishing, and is working on the third novel. Nicole works part-time in order to keep her head out of the books sometimes and to socialize with people who live outside of her head.

She lives in a townhouse in Melbourne, with two cats and a bottomless cup of tea.
 

Monday 25 February 2013

Undercover Lovers #7: Human Trafficking

This story was hastily written at the last minute because I somehow spent the entire week completely stressing myself out and accomplishing nothing - which, amazingly, stressed me out even more. Seriously, I have spent the last two weeks or so in this self-loathing bubble, unable to properly function as a human being which really sucks because I am a human being. I just have to keep reminding myself that it's almost March - though I don't know what that will do.

 
It's my ADHD kicking into high gear and emphasizing my already lazy tendencies. I'm screwed. Okay enough about that, this is another Undercover Lovers episode however there isn't going to be the usually lighter tone that the others have had. The situation below is completely fictional and really the scenario is completely from my imagination since there aren't many resources on this part of the situation. This does bring up the subject of being well-informed when writing - especially when it comes to crime and police work - which I'll be talking more about in a few weeks when I launch my new series Forensic Fridays where one friday per month is spent discussing proper forensic and police procedure.
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I'm crazy.
 
 
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Friday 22 February 2013

Nina Post on Productivity for Writers

Story Time: I met Nina Post during a Twitter Chat hosted by Curiosity Quills. And I was immediately blown away by her focus and output of writing so I asked her to stop by and share some of her secrets.

From her Website:
Nina Post is a fiction writer who lives in
Seattle. She is the author of DANGER IN CAT WORLD, THE LAST CONDO
BOARD OF THE APOCALYPSE, THE LAST DONUT SHOP OF THE APOCALYPSE, and
ONE GHOST PER SERVING.






Wednesday 20 February 2013

Mary's Tears Blog Tour Announcement

I am looking for bloggers and reviewers to help me spread the word about "Mary's Tears" a Novel written by Aryea Hunt.






Mary has been running most of her life, from her past, from people, from emotional attachment. She has survived much and enjoyed little, now her biggest task is at hand. She must return home to Newfoundland, home to the place where her demons were born, and where her past still has the substance to haunt her.
The book was published on February 11th 2013 and is now available for ebook purchase on Smashwords (link provided above).
 
From March 10th-16th I'm looking for lovely people like yourselves to sign up to be part of the tour. If you are available, there are free copies available for reviewers but Aryea is very excited to do interviews, character interviews and guest posts - or anything else you can think of. If you are unable to host I ask that you post the blurb or send out a quick tweet to your followers.
 
If you would like to sign up let me know in the comments below:
  • Your blog URL and Title
  • What Day(s) you would like
  • What type of post
  • The best way to contact you (email)
Thank you all for the support and I'll see you in March!
 

Monday 18 February 2013

Undercover Lovers #6: Indiana Jones

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

No seriously, it's actually my birthday today.

I don't think I shall tell you how old I am, I shall just let you continue to think me immortal if you wish. But either way, I am back with another Undercover Lover episode. This one has been cheesily titled "Indian Jones and the Island Adventure". Really, it's just me practicing my smut writing so if you have some pointers please leave them in the comments - that can be your gift to me. I think that's it, though; nothing else to report.

ON WITH THE SHOW!

“My friends call me Indy.” He was nearly shouting in her ear but she could barely hear him above the pulsing rhythm beating through her body in time with her heart. The music had such an intoxicating sound, an exotic seduction of words and soul that possessed all the dancers on the floor to do something they’d never done before. For him, it was this; dancing with the woman in the sunset beach dress wrapped tightly around her curves. The drums were almost as intoxicating as her scent, invading his nostrils for the sheer proximity of their bodies. She continued to grind her body to the beat, her limbs flowing perfectly around him but rarely touching. All around them, affairs equally as drunk were grinding and kissing as passionately as the night would take them, throwing caution – and clothing - to the wind. He didn’t remember meeting her exactly and he had no idea when they had started dancing but when her hand came around to cup his shoulder blades and pull him flush against her fiery body, he decided he didn’t really care.

“Miranda.” She introduced herself. He felt a shiver of arousal and he knew in an instant that she felt it, too when her sweet smile became seduction and he knew he was dancing with the devil herself. Suddenly, he didn’t care. She continued her dance and he tried to follow but then she slipped down further against his body, arching her back to him and slinking up without ever losing contact.

She had closed her eyes to the outside world and he knew he had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. It was only when her ass met his front that he placed his hands against her hips to slow her movements down. More pressure in her calculated rolls, and grinds making slow circles as she came around to face him, their eyes never leaving each other’s. He saw the arousal in her eyes, blackened to dark chocolate pools against her bronze skin. Every detail of her being was hard to miss.

And if he didn’t stop her soon, he would be on the verge of doing something he would sorely regret. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“I’m in a relationship.” Her breath was hot in his ear, even as she continued to grind against him.

“Then maybe we’ll make it two.” He offered his hand out to her like a gentlemen which may have been the most ridiculous thing anyone had or would do all weekend. She tilted her head and looked at him, bemused but nodded once and allowed herself to be led through the crowd of forgotten weekends and affairs to remember to the bar in the corner, littered with empty drinks, better left abandoned than unattended.

He summoned a bartender and leaned in close “Whiskey; neat.” He shouted before inviting her to order with a hand placed firmly below necessary.

“Vodka martini,” she glanced over at her new acquaintance with appraising eyes and turned back to the bartender with a smirk “dirty.” The man nodded and bustled about with an air of sex appeal to every movement – a fact accentuated by his shirtless attire and lack of inhibitions towards the guests. It felt like a lifetime in a single moment before the man returned with their drinks, placed on the mysterious tab that he seemed to have everyone set up on.

They held their glasses to each other, close enough to touch. “To new friends.” He offered and she echoed it with a secret smile hidden behind her drink. “So,” he leaned against the bar while she stood before him, clouding his vision more than any alcohol could accomplish “where is your mysterious lover? Surely they have to be crazy to leave you all alone in a place like this.”

She leaned forward, invading all semblance of personal space a long time ago but now, with the added bonus of stealing his breath at the ample display of her breasts uninhibited in her dress. He didn’t dare try to look away; even as she pulled away, having placed her drink on the bar behind him. “He knows he can trust me.” Even had he been breathing, he still would have choked on irony of the situation. But she was already moving on “so what brings you to paradise?”

He almost said it was her that brought him to paradise but he thought better of it and instead played a casual hand to test her limits. “I’m a history professor, actually. Not the most glamorous of jobs but I also do a sort of part time job of recovering ancient artifacts. It takes me all over the world but usually to places not nearly as beautiful as this.” She was watching him with a precise eyes – he was suddenly struck with the notion that her eyes were cat-like; always watching and waiting for the exact moment to pounce – licking her lips slowly as his chest heaved deeper with each swipe of her eyes. “And-” he cleared his throat “and what do you do?”

“I…” she stepped into his space with no more pretence, only lust. When she spoke, her tongue came out to tease his earlobe and he was completely gone “I get turned on by smart, sexy men with dangerous jobs.” He hadn’t realized how far down her hand was until she cupped his crotch and gave a light squeeze before trailing up his thigh with a delicate, manicured finger and grasped his hand. She led him along the edges of the room, away from the crowd to where the pounding beat was no longer a sound but a feeling.

It was surreal to leave the room. Everything was blindingly bright; the air was fresh and everything had a peach haze to it from both the alcohol and the lighting. It was pristine and manicured in its very nature, every floral arrangement on the corner table every scrap of European wallpaper. The pounding rhythm of their former lives was muffled by the double doors that acted like a gateway to a new world. In this world there was no music except the ringing of the phone and the plastered smiles of the front desk welcoming their guests to Paradise. They passed it all in a haze of colour and muffled sound until they reached the elevators.

The moment the doors closed, sheltering them from the outside world, her body fused to his in a searing kiss that melted away the last of their inhibitions. His hand came down to her thighs, pressing into the soft flesh there as he massaged his way higher and higher until he met what was supposed to be her panty line. To prove his theory, his hand travelled to her center and rested there, feeling nothing but her warmth. “You aren’t wearing any underwear, Miss Miranda;” he bit down on the tendon of her neck and she melted against him, her strength long ago abandoning her. This was all him. “Were you expecting something to happen tonight?”

“A girl always has to be prepared.” She breathed against him, sinking into his embrace as his kisses and bites travelled down the side of her neck to the top of her breasts but never further. Her heart was beating out of her chest when he bit softly as the pulsating skin there and she moaned in delight. He massaged her flesh but his fingers never passed her lips, and desire alone – combined with his heady cologne –had her seeing stars. As the car slowly came to a stop, he slowed his movements, lightened his kisses and let his caresses fall short of ecstasy but she was already burning with temptation and there was no way she was going to stop now.

She wasn’t sure how she heard the elevator through her lust-induced haze but the moment the doors opened behind her, she grabbed him by the lapels of his black blazer and shoved him out of the car hard enough that he hit the opposite wall with a stumbling thud. Not that he seemed to mind as he used the momentum to pull her to his hips by the hem of her dress.

They were rolling against each other, their most intimate selves never far from mind or body. The heat of anticipation painted their skin a sweet pink as the battle for dominance continued. They had to break free or they would never make it to the hotel room alive but neither was willing to part. So they kept close to the wall and shoved their way down the hallway, all regard for safety or silence left in the lobby downstairs. They reached the door and he was left breathless when she shoved him against the wall and watched him with a chest-heaving, animalistic hunger.

Really, it should have come as no surprise when she suddenly tugged the material of her dress down, stretching to its limits, so all but her nipples were exposed to his feasting eyes. Admittedly, he temporarily lost focus of the task at hand by visions of what her rosy skin looked like, and smelt and tasted like. He imagined would it be like to take that mound of flesh and dine on her while the only sound heard through the thick fog of desire where her moans of pleasure and her cries of delight.

He was trust back on topic by the site of her fingers emerging from between her breasts with a card key.

They watched each other as she inserted the key into the slot, eyes as fiery and dark as their desire. A breath later they were in the bedroom, both too distracted to register any discernible features except for a king sized bed made neatly by the impeccable service in the establishment - the last of his coherent thoughts were spent remembering to tip the maid tomorrow.

If he survived the night.

His jacket began a short train of clothing from the living room to the bedroom door featuring their shoes, and his belt buckle. His mouth was still fused to the edge of her sanity, nipping at her neck and shoulders while his hand kept her pinned to the door frame; the warmth of his flesh against her, set fireworks through her eyelids on an explosive track to her core.

Something had to be done or she would burst from the anticipation.

She gave up on properly unbuttoning his shirt and he didn't even blink when she gave a firm tug and the sound of misplaced buttons filled the air behind them.

He smirked “you’re very aggressi-”

He choked on air as he suddenly found himself flung onto the mattress. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” She lay on top of him, grinding her hips in slow circles while her lips came down on his with a fierce passion, enough to leave a bruise the next morning. He could care less. He was too distracted by the torturously slow motion of his hips against his open pants; the slither of her torso against his burning skin and the surprising gentleness of his palms against his neck and chest like she was trying to keep him grounded while she used him for her own desires.

Maybe he was too grounded – or maybe he was just incredibly stupid – because he was suddenly telling her to stop, pulling her back so she could no longer attack him. “Wait, what about your boyfriend?”

She was rolling her eyes; not literally, but in her head, she wanted to smack him. Again, she leaned down to whisper in his ear, the mere proximity of their skin enough to set them both on fire. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Alright, he was in. She let out a startled ‘o’ when he gripped the small of her back and her thigh and rolled them over, pinning her down and entered her body with two fingers. She lost the power of speech long before static filled her vision but the rest of her senses were alive and fizzling with desire and a prolonged sense of what heaven and hell must feel like at the crossroads. Peace and passion and a burning from the inside out that scorched the skin with pleasure.

He pulled the material of her dress down even further – she swore she heard a tear in the seams – so he could continue his assault of her skin from neck to shoulders, biting at the flesh of her breast until he took her nipple in his mouth and devoured the last of her senses. Every nerve in her body was hyperaware and numb to any sensation but the pricks of his skin against hers until the stars and the static burst into flames and she wasn’t sure if she screamed or flew around the room.

As she came down from the ceiling she held his gaze, still glossy and black with desire and she smiled before hooking her trembling legs around his hips. “This is going to be fun.”

He woke up alone in the bed the next morning. The sheets were still rumpled and stained with their sweat and pleasure. A quick exploration of the hotel room revealed that she was not there so he thought it best to make a hasty exit.

It was practically a treasure hunt looking for his clothes and each article brought on a new memory and a new sensation of his tryst with the island beauty last night. However, it didn’t take him long to realize that two very important articles of clothing were missing; his jacket – which held his wallet and room key – and his underwear.

Well crap; he quickly pulled on his pants and tucked his torn shirt inside before slipping out of the room and heading down to the lobby.

He found her sitting alone in the corner of the dining room, nibbling a blueberry muffin, sipping imperfect coffee and reading the local newspaper. She barely acknowledged him when he slipped into the chair opposite her.

“That was a dirty trick.”

She sipped her coffee, still reading the paper “may I remind you that it was your idea to play Indian Jones while we were here? What else did you expect me to do?”

“Okay, I get why you took my jacket.” He grabbed a large chunk from the muffin and began to pick at it. “But why take my underwear?”

“A girl can’t take a souvenir?” She still hadn’t looked at him and he was this close to just grabbing the paper away so he wouldn’t have to hear her casually smug tone.

“So you’d agree that this vacation was much better than our first one to the Hamptons?”

“Nobody died.”

He hummed and popped another piece of muffin into his mouth “and I think the island life suits you.” He smirked “maybe next time we’ll actually leave the hotel.”

She looked up at him and he was so startled that he barely registered her words. But he never forgot that predatory smile. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

Friday 15 February 2013

Paradise Earth

So we're taking today to talk about Paradise Earth by Anthony Mathenia.

When the ground quakes and blazing balls of fire fall from the sky, a religious sect interprets it as the fulfillment of long-held prophecies foretelling the end of the world. The members flee to their religious sanctuary, believing that this global cataclysm is the portent of a new paradise of eternal happiness. Inside, one cold and starving man struggles to hold onto his hope for the future. He’s sacrificed everything for his faith in the prophecy, including his family. As the tortuous night drags on, he struggles to hold onto his hope for the future and grapples with a lifetime of beliefs, and expectations. If he survives to see the paradise earth, will it be worth it? Paradise Earth is a deconstruction of faith at the end of the world and beyond.





Anthony Mathenia is a novelist, blogger, and freelance writer. Having spent the majority of his life trapped in a religious cult he now writes on the liberation of the human spirit. His latest project is Paradise Earth, a novel in three parts about the survival of faith and love after the apocalypse, to be published by Curiosity Quills Press in 2012. Anthony lives in Illinois with his wife and daughter. He sincerely apologizes for waking you up on Saturday mornings in order to recruit you.

 


Thursday 14 February 2013

Love: As Told Through The Eyes Of a Lover

 
Every Valentine’s Day for the last two years I’ve sat down at the end of the day and watched “For Lovers Only” which, in my mind, is a fantastic modern love story artistically told, beautifully written and perfectly performed. Against the backdrop of Paris and the surrounding countryside two lovers reunite after being separated for eight years and begin a whirlwind affair across France. But their lives have changed since they were last together and they can’t stay in bliss for long before the real world calls them back. More than anything this is a story about being in love. 


You don’t see that a lot in movies – being in love – for them it’s all about the adventure of falling in love with someone. It dramatizes love until reality starts becoming about the fantasy and the passion and less about love. There’s the other side of romantic movies where it’s not so much passion as sappy romance and Disney movies that everyone criticizes but can’t say what the right way is.
I gave up on finding that fairytale romance that I read about and saw in movies but I still believe it exists. I believe that you can meet someone and become their friend and their lover and that you can look at them twenty years later and still be hopelessly in love with them. I believe there’s no timeline for falling in love; there are no guidelines. You know it’s love because your heart beats faster when you think about them and you can’t stop grinning when you talk about them but when they’re there with you, everything is so calm and easy.
I believe there are many ways you can fall in love but there’s only one way to be in love: you just are. You are yourself, there’s no pretense or games. You’re comfortable. You tell them the secrets that they need to know; no obligations or guilt. Everything about love is mutual and understanding – that gets lost in translation sometimes.
I don’t, however, believe in love at first sight. I believe in attraction at first sight and those aren’t the same at all. You feel an attraction or a chemistry with someone right away but love? Love is slow and burning, drawing out whatever emotions come along with it like a magnet.
Just because you're single doesn't mean you have to be against Valentine's Day. Today isn't sappy couples, and flowers and 80s love ballads. It's about love, plain and simple. Celebrate love in any form: being in loving, falling in love, finding love - the hope for an ever after that I know everyone secretly wants. It doesn't matter if you're in a relationship or if you're single; celebrate love as it is. I know Valentine's Day means different things to different people but one thing it is not about is being miserable. There's no eternal deadline for love (unless you're the Little Mermaid but we'll talk about her later) so there's no reason to be sad today; today is about being happy that there is love in the world. So I see no need to be anti-valentine's day or to be aware of your singleness. I don't care if hallmark claims rights to Valentine's Day, today is my day to celebrate love and compassion.
 The history may be dark but the tradition of Valentine’s Day has become an obligation more than an expression of love and I don’t think that’s how that’s supposed to work. If, in the middle of February, you feel like shouting your love to the rooftops then by god do it but don’t do anything you don’t mean…that’s what it comes down to.
 Mean every word you say to someone you love. Be comfortable in the world you’ve built with them.  
 That’s my definition of love.


Wednesday 13 February 2013

Prossia Blog Tour

I am back with another tour hosted by the amazingly talented Masquerade Crew.

Prossia by Raphyel Jordan

Raphyel Montez Jordan grew up in a household sensitive to the creative arts. As a child, his hobbies were drawing favorite cartoon and video game characters while making illustrated stories. This passion for art never left and followed him all the way up to his high school and college years.

It wasn’t until college when he underwent a personal “renaissance” of sorts that Jordan took his interest in writing to another level. When he was 19, he started writing a novel for fun, taking inspiration from the constant exposure of different ideas and cultures that college showed him while staying true to the values he grew up to embrace. However, when the “signs of the times” influenced the story and the characters to spawn into universes of their own, he figured he might possibly be on to something.

As he studied graphic design at Armstrong Atlantic State University in Savannah, Georgia, Jordan also used his electives to study sciences like Astronomy, Psychology, and Biology in order enhance the reading experience in his story. He eventually made it a goal to have the story published after he graduated, and dubbed the goal “Operation Prosia,” the very same project that would develop into his first published book, “Prossia.”

Even though his novel is not necessarily a religious book, Jordan utilizes his Christian faith by urging people to encourage, not condemn, in his story. Best known for ending his PSFC newsletters with “Unity Within Diversity,” he hopes “Prossia’s” success will inspire people to consider and support the positive outlook in the difference human kind can share, whether it be race, religion, or any other cultural difference.
PROSSIA

"A teenage alien girl might endanger her comrades in-arms due to an unknown secret she keeps while fighting in a galactic war. Herself."

Where were you, when you had to grow up?

For a seventeen-year-old Goolian named Aly, it was on another planet called Argutas, a world where she had to "adjust" in order to fit her new surroundings. Daydreaming got replaced with nightmares. Sparring got replaced with killing. Singing to adoring crowds in her father's store turned into shouting for cover. This is what fighting in the war has given Aly, ever since her tribe was drafted. This is the sacrifice she makes while defending galactic order against the Cyogen.

However, there's a danger lurking right among the allies and friends Aly has sworn to protect. It's worse than any Cyogen weaponry, or any being known in the galaxy. It's wrath has the potential of crumbling enemy forces, and bringing allied troops to their knees.

That danger is Aly, herself, and the best part is this: she doesn't even know it. The people she trusts the most are secretly monitoring her condition on the battlefield, and there's no telling what they might be willing to do if Aly accidentally unleashes the power that might jeopardize the safety of everyone around her. Then again, these are the same family and friends who are oblivious to the role they play in an even larger conspiracy blinding the entire known world.


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Raphyel stopped by today to talk about world building (specifically with ailens and science fiction).

Tuesday 12 February 2013

Forbidden Love by Erika Lindsen

And the love fun continues this week with the fabulous, the glorious.... Erika Lindsen author of the Takers Series and Tyran's Thirst. I asked her to stop by and talk about forbidden love because, let's face it, we all love to have a touch of sin and taboo in our fiction (and our real lives, duh).

FORBIDDEN LOVE by Erika Lindsen

Ah, love. What is more beautiful than seeing two people looking into each other's eyes, that twinkle exchanged, the connection of finding their soul mate? Forbidden love, of course.
 I think one of the most classic cases of crossing boundaries in the name of love is Romeo and Juliet. They truly were forbidden, deaths caused from just their families being around one another. Even the best friend got it. As we all know, not even a secret marriage could save these two and they died, well, killed themselves, but I like to think the sunnier side of the story.
Probably one of my favorite examples of forbidden love is Beauty and the Beast. Just thinking about that movie makes me smile (I’m a big kid at heart). What’s more frowned upon than hooking up with a creature? Sure, he was a prince in the beginning and end of the story, but when Belle met him he wasn’t exactly all chiseled cheekbones and long, flowing hair. He did have hair, but maybe a bit too much for Belle to run her hands through. Love conquered the spell and they lived happily ever after.
Speaking on getting with someone not exactly human and love conquering it, you may have noticed a surge in the last five years or so of vampires, werewolves and other love interests with secrets. Personally, I love the paranormal. The thought of having such a huge obstacle, such as he wants to eat you, and either looking beyond that to the real person is truly forbidden love and conquering it.
I must admit to having a serious soft spot for vampires. Maybe that’s why I’ve written so many of them? Probably.
Love truly does come in every shape and size. Some are set to what our parents have envisioned for us, others are the exact opposite. But however we find love, it is always precious and should always be treasured.
Erika's talk of Beauty and the Beast reminded me of this ridiculously awesome video about True Love and Disney so I'm sharing this with all of you for your sighing delight!

 
 So thanks Erika for stopping by and thank YOU for hanging out with me. On your way out don't forget to pick up a copy of Tyran's Thirst and Takers #1: Soul on Amazon.

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What do you like about Forbidden Romance? What's your view about True Love? Tell me in the comments below!

Monday 11 February 2013

Undercover Lovers #5: Sleezy Drunks and Husbands

Happy Monday my darlings and welcome to the Week of Love!

Okay that was really cheesy but it was the only way to segue into the week of Valentine's Day. Every day (from Monday to Friday) will be filled with different - awesome things - Guest Posts, Love Rants and Post-Apocalyptic Book Reviews - what more could a girl ask for?

Anyways, we're back with another Undercover Lovers story all about drunks and husbands. That's...kind of romantic, right? If 80s and 90s romantic comedies have taught me anything it's that ANYTHING can be romantic if you look at it through rose coloured beer goggles.

Happy Valentine's Week!

Friday 8 February 2013

Interview with Diana Gabaldon

I am so honored and incredibly excited to sit down with Diana Gabaldon today to talk about her writing and the eighth book in the Outlander Series.

From her site (www.dianagabaldon.com):

Diana Gabaldon is the author of the award-winning, #1 NYT-bestselling OUTLANDER novels...The adventure began in 1991 with the classic OUTLANDER (“historical fiction with a Moebius twist”)...Gabaldon (it’s pronounced “GAA-bull-dohn”—rhymes with “stone”) has also written several books in a sub-series featuring Lord John Grey (a major minor character from the main series)...Returning to her comic-book roots, she has also written a graphic novel titled THE EXILE (set within the OUTLANDER universe and featuring the main characters from OUTLANDER), but told from the viewpoint of Jamie Fraser and his godfather, Murtagh.

Gabaldon is presently working on the third Lord John novel (LORD JOHN AND THE SCOTTISH PRISONER), and the eighth book in the OUTLANDER series (WRITTEN IN MY OWN HEART'S BLOOD). In addition, she is working on a contemporary mystery series, set in Phoenix, and has written Highly Scholarly Introductions (with masses of footnotes) to recent Modern Library editions of Sir Walter Scott’s IVANHOE and Thomas Paine’s COMMON SENSE.

Dr. Gabaldon holds three degrees in science: Zoology, Marine Biology, and Quantitative Behavioral Ecology, (plus an honorary degree as Doctor of Humane Letters, which entitles her to be “Diana Gabaldon, Ph.D., D.H.L.” She supposes this is better than “Diana Gabaldon, Phd.X,”) and spent a dozen years as a university professor with an expertise in scientific computation before beginning to write fiction.

She and her husband, Douglas Watkins, have three adult children and live mostly in Scottsdale, Arizona.

Wednesday 6 February 2013

Since Tomorrow Blog Tour

Another post by the Maquerade Crew and I may be back later this year with a review of "Since Tomorrow". I gotta love a Canadian Setting.

Since Tomorrow

by Morgan Nyberg





Blog Tour Hosted by
The Masquerade Crew

Monday 4 February 2013

Undercover Lovers #4: Swingers

I should note that I know little about swinging so if there's any glaring detail that I got wrong please let me know.

For the time being I feel very caught up with my work load but I sense that could change very easily so please watch for my sanity. If you see it on the floor, please don't step on it and return it to the nearest coffee shop (preferably Tim Horton's).

And just so we're clear on the dress I'm imagining for the classy lady in this week's tale...


Friday 1 February 2013

What I Learned From Last Week's Episode of Castle



There’s no new episode of ABC’s Castle this week and while some of you may not care, Castle is my favourite show, surpassing all past and present television shows in my mind. So when it’s not on it makes me sad and when I get sad I usually write (or sing) so today I’m actually going to be talking about Castle in vague relation to writing.
So first of all, if you don’t know, Castle follows the story of a best-selling murder mystery novelist who shadows an NYPD detective, writing a series of novels based on their adventures together and eventually forming a romantic relationship with her. It stars Nathan Fillion as Richard Castle and Stana Katic as Detective Kate Beckett and is currently in the middle of its fifth season (working towards their 100th episode in April). If you’re really interested, Hyperion Publishing House has published all four books in the Nikki Heat series (the series Richard Castle wrote based on his adventures) and I’ve been told by people who aren’t Castle fans that they’re good so take my word when I recommend them for a good read.