Welcome Brita!

Who is your hero? And why? My husband is hands down my hero. Why? Aside from being handsome, loving and my best friend, he’s truly my other half. He helped me raised my two older children and he loves me no matter who I am on any particular day. That, my friends, is the very definition of hero in my book.

What one event in your childhood had the greatest effect on your writing career? When I was in seventh grade, my teacher, Mr. Green, sent one of my short stories to an author, Hal Borland. I didn’t know anything about it until Mr. G. called me to his desk one afternoon and showed me my story, with lots of notes written in the margins. Mr. Borland had read the story and critiqued it. He said some very nice things about my promise as a writer.

When I took the story home, I was greeted with a lecture on pipedreams and the “reality” of how successful writers really are, and that alone stopped me from writing for a very long time. It also was one of the reasons I started writing seriously.

My dad was a frustrated writer himself and an all-round bitter man. It’s sad that never changed.

Who is your best friend, and what do you like best about him or her? List your best friend’s favorite books. How do they compare to yours? As I said before, my husband is my best friend. He’s kind, loving and the best cook on the planet. Being retired, he really fills in the gaps, doing things around the house that I did for years. I still do laundry, but he really does so much, and that gives me the time I need to write and research.

He’s also the best dad a kid could ever hope to have and he has the best smile I’ve ever seen.

His books – well, he reads what strikes him, but romance is definitely not on his to-be-read list.

What “lesson from mom” do you still live by today? My mother was very old-fashioned, which was one of her most endearing qualities. She taught me how to dress for the occasion, be polite and she was a stickler for manners. I’d say those lessons have served me well.

She also served vegetables every night, which laugh if you will, but parents should do more of that.

Mom was a very simple woman, practical, and family oriented. Her presence was graceful and unassuming – sadly quite different from mine. LOL

What’s the one thing you want to accomplish, or write about, before you die? I really want to write a m/m Civil War story, and will, maybe in the next year or so. I have many notes for the story and have done tons of research, but I haven’t settled into the story yet.

I know it will take place in the north, as I had many ancestors that fought in the Civil War. In my genealogical research, I uncovered some very interesting stories, like a man who joined the Army at the age of 43, leaving at home a wife and two small children. Seven months later, he fought in Cold Harbor, one of the bloodiest battles of the whole war. He was shot in the left elbow, taken to Soldier’s Hospital in Washington, DC, and died a short time later due to his injury. I can only imagine that he’d been left on the battlefield for several days, as many were, while the fighting raged around the dead and wounded. Undoubtedly, infection set in long before he ended up in the notoriously wanting care of Civil War doctors.

If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be? Would you write or read there, or do something else? I want to go to England. We’ve traveled a lot, but we’ve not made it to Europe yet. It would be strictly for pleasure and research. I’d sightsee until I couldn’t stand up. I can read and write at home.

I have a real need to see all the locations I write about in my books and get a feel for England. The pictures I’d take would be phenomenal.

I want to eat in the wonderful restaurants and tour the museums and landmarks and have a real English teatime. Oh, and of course I’d have to visit my friend Aleks Voinov.

Do you have a pet that keeps you company when you write? If so, write about him or her. Has your pet taught you anything about writing? If so, what? We have two pets actually. Our cat Stormee, is thirteen years old. We got him when he was just a little guy and now he’s a cranky old fart, but we love him dearly.

Our other pet is our two-year old Maltipoo, Fiona Dahlia. She is with me all the time, no matter what I’m doing. She usually sleeps right beside me while I’m writing.

Stormee actually makes an appearance in Demands of the Heart, in the epilogue, but Fiona hasn’t and probably won’t. No, they haven’t taught me anything, save for to take a break and throw her puppy toy more often.

What’s the most unusual place you have visited? I lived in Iceland for two years, which was an experience I’ll never forget. It made me appreciate my home country, but I wouldn’t give up those two years for anything. I traveled to Scotland during that time on holiday, and it was an amazing experience.

Iceland is not overly frigid and it rarely snowed while I was there. We actually sunbathed in summer and while chilly, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

The most interesting thing for me was the Midnight Sun phenomenon. While in summer and in fair weather, the sun was out all day, in winter, the Polar Night takes over, during which the sun stays hidden throughout the day, with maybe 3 to 4 hours of sunshine in 24. We read of such things in school, but to experience it for myself was amazing.

Getting to know some of the locals, particularly an 18 year old girl who was our babysitter, was a joy. You should have seen what I had to do to explain to our landlord that I needed a babysitter. Yep, I put my baby on the bed and pretend to sit on him. The only English word the man knew was “Money,” said, of course, with his hand out. LOL

If you could have a quiet dinner with just one author, who would you choose? Undoubtedly, I’d love to have dinner with Aleks Voinov. He’s a clever guy, who thinks in a way that’s extraordinary to me. I’d love to have a couple of hours to pick his brain.

Aleks was the first person to welcome me into the writing world and I’ll never forget his kindness them and all those that have come since. He’s mentored me and aided me in my writing. His friendship is one of those that I truly treasure.

Tell us about your latest release. Demands of the Heart is a story that has been long getting to publication. It’s the first story I ever wrote with the intent of submitting and somehow it required more and more, until several other pieces came before it.

I’m very pleased with it and proud to have it in the hands of the readers.

Here’s the blurb:

In 1807, idealistic Richard Fanshaw and Victoria Bramhill are consumed with each other, their young love blooming amidst a series of carefree soirees and stolen moments.

But jealousy and greed turn what they have into something ugly and twisted. They’re wrenched apart amid vile lies and deceit when Victoria’s freedom is bought to pay her father’s debts.

Six years later, Victoria is widowed and a cynical Richard has just returned to England after years in India.  Having been given the impression that Victoria’s marriage was a happy one, a chance meeting renews Richard’s anger over Victoria’s betrayal and sets in motion a plan for revenge.

One must answer the demands of the heart.

To read an excerpt and purchase, click here: Demands of the Heart

I’d love to hear from you. You can find me at any of these places:

Email address: britaaddams@gmail.com

Website/Blog

Twitter: @britaaddams

Facebook:

Goodreads Page

20% off To celebrate the release of Demand’s of the Heart, Noble Romance Publishing is offering my entire backlist at 20% off. This is for sales on the Noble Romance Publishing site only and only my titles.

There’s no limit. Buy one book, or all seven, you’ll get 20% off your purchase. The eligible titles are: Serenity’s Dream; Lord Decadent’s Obsession; Chocolate, Tea, and the Duchess; The Rogue’s Salvation; A Minute After Midnight; An Evening at the Starlight, and the book I wrote under the name Tina Ordone, Her Timeless Obsession.

The price you’ll see is the reduced price.

The sale will run from midnight, Pacific time, February 20 to 11:59 pm Pacific time, March 2.

This is a backlist sale, so it doesn’t include Demands of the Heart.

I have several contests running during the book tour, ending at midnight, March 2.

Contest #1:

I’ll choose a daily winner from the commenters. I’ll will be giving away an ebook from my backlist at each stop. The only exclusion is Demands of the Heart. One book per commenter, please.

Contest #2:

Demands of the Heart T-Shirt Contest:

If you answer the three questions correctly, you could be one of four winners. The prize will be a T-Shirt with the cover of the book on it. The shirt also says that the cover is model, Jimmy Thomas’s 1500^th cover. There will be four winners, each winning a T-Shirt and other swag.

All answers are found on Brita’s website.

Please do NOT put the answers in the comments section of this blog or on Brita’s site. Email them to Brita, with T-Shirt Answers in the subject line.

1. What book did I write under another name?
2. Who is the character, Lucien Damrill, patterned after?
3. Describe the signature brandy snifter at the Sapphire Club.

Contest #3: GRAND PRIZE

This contest is about Demands of the Heart. Of course, you’re under no obligation to buy or read the book, but if you choose to, this contest is for you.

I’ve put three questions up on my website, all relating to my book, Demands of the Heart. Answer the questions and EMAIL me, with the answers, at britaaddams@gmail.com  Be sure to put GRAND PRIZE in the subject line.

You must have all three questions answered correctly to be entered into the drawing.

The Grand Prize is the entire Sapphire Club series in print, signed by the author. I’ll also include some other signed swag.

Good luck and I hope to hear from you soon.

Thanks so much for coming by Brita! Congratulations on your newest release, best of luck on the sales and wishing you lots of fun with all of you contests and hoping with your tour!

Reblogged from J.S. Wayne:

Edit: Here is the link to the official petition concerning this matter: http://www.thepetitionsite.com/7/stop-internet-censorship/ If you enjoy having the right to write and read what you choose as a law-abiding, consenting adult without interference from financiers, please consider taking time to sign this petition. It’s YOUR right. As Yogi Berra would say: It’s deja vu all over again. A while back, I spoke on this blog about my frustration and anger with PayPal. The issue at the time was that they …

Recently PayPal issued an ultimatum to Bookstrand which boils down to good old fashioned censorship. Read about it in J.S. Wayne’s post and if this strikes you as a cause to rally against, sign this petition: Sign this petition if your passionate against Paypal’s corporate censorship on works of fiction: http://www.thepetitionsite.com/7/stop-internet-censorship/

Don’t hesitate to make your voice heard. If you think the censorship will stop with uncomfortable topics/genres, you’re wrong.

Release Day: Dead Means Dead By J.S. Wayne.

Enough Rambling! Here she is, Sarah, please tell everyone a little about yourself: 

I am a full time author, other than when I’m staying at home with my six kids ages 13 and under. Which is all the time. (Actually, I don’t know how I ever have time to write.) I’m happily married (for a really, really long time, says him) and my husband and I love sneaking away from the kids for some alone time, which frankly does nothing for the kid population. And as for the question everyone wants to know but no one wants to ask, yes, we had all those kids on purpose…almost. We had the first five on purpose. Then I had my tubes tied. THEN two years later we found out about baby #6. She’s precious, isn’t she? Into stuff she wasn’t supposed to be into from the very beginning. (My tubes have since been removed entirely. Hmph.)

Six kids…holy hell…guess that means there was a lot of research going on….right, right?! wink wink….ok, I’ll quit…maybe.

When and why did you start writing? 

I took a stab at nonfiction—and I don’t know what made me do that—not long after my fifth baby was born. A few months in, a friend suggested I try writing a novel. I said nuh-uh, no way. No sooner had I said I couldn’t, it hit me: I said I couldn’t! And I don’t like being told I can’t do things, not even by me. So I started writing Down in Flames. It took me six months to finish it, and it was picked up by the first publisher I queried. It became my first release in June 2010, just two weeks after that uber-persistant baby #6 was born.

Does listening to music have an influence on your writing?   

Not in the conventional way. I am now writing my seventh book and I’m on my second CD since 2008. I listen to the same thing over and over when I write—first Miranda Lambert’s Kerosene and now Jason Aldean’s Wide Open—and I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like the moment those first notes play, I’m in writing mode. It’s like Pavlov’s dogs and the slobber. I heard the music—well, not any music, but that music—and I write. It has no bearing on the mood of the story, but rather my ability to write it. (It=anything. At all.)

Wow, good for you girl… shoot, if I hear a song one too many times I stop hearing it if you know what I mean. It’s like my brain goes…yeah, yeah, next… It sure would save me some money if I didn’t have to keep a constant rotation in the playlist.

Any favorite authors? Who inspired you when you were young? And now? 

When I was a kid I devoured the Nancy Drew Case Files. Devoured them. Once I got out of high school I didn’t read much more than parenting magazines, but after I wrote my first book, I downloaded a free read from Harlequin Intrigue. I was HOOKED. That story was Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch from B.J. Daniels, and my love for romantic suspense began right there. Most of my work since has been romantic suspense.

Do you ever get stalled in the middle of a story? If so how do you get past it?  

Meh. (In other words, yes. LOL.) Usually when I stall it’s because either something doesn’t feel right or I have something on my mind—another scene or a plot thread nagging at me. So I just skip a couple lines in my WIP and start writing whatever DOES come to me. Once I spit that out I can go back and write in sequence, no problem. And what’s really nice is when I catch up to the part I wrote ahead, it’s a fast edit. (Good for morale, LOL.)

I bet! Yeah, sometimes the best solution is to walk away or skip it for a minute…or a  week in my case *slinks away*…finding a method that works to get you beyond that block is great!!!

Who has been your favorite character to write to date and why?  

Oh, this is hard. I usually like the hero in my current WIP the most, but I’m only at the beginning and don’t know him too well yet. *grin* That said, I’d have to say Gage from Unforgiven. He reminds me SO much of my husband. The banter between Gage and Riley is straight out of my marriage (which explains why my husband says we’ve been married for a “long, long time”).

Quick fire questions:

Favorite color:  Blue

Satin or Lace:  Satin

Most attractive part of the body:  Hands. (Which is ironic, because my husband’s hands are rough and they never come clean, but that is SO sexy. And yes, I just failed at quick fire. What did you expect? I write novels!)

Pantser or Plotter:  Panster

Favorite place to write:  In the boat at the marina (I’m there right now!) or in the front seat of our gi-normous truck. Hmmm . . . I guess that means I like both the front and the back seat, but I can’t say which I like more—or for what—because that wasn’t a question. And yes, the boat does rock. Where are you going with this, anyway? *grin*

Hehehe…you said “gi-normous” and “back seat” OH, you caught me! But what else could we expect from such a fabu romance writer?!

Thanks so much for playing along with me today Sarah! Before I let you go could you tell everyone what projects you’re working on and maybe give us a taste of your latest release.

I’m working on LAST CALL, a romantic suspense coming this spring to For the Muse Publishing. Here’s the blurb:

An accidental witness to a murder-for-hire, ex-cop Rhys Clark becomes the target of ruthless killer—one determined to silence her at any cost. Playing dead seems to be the most likely way to stay alive, but when her protection comes in the form of mega-sexy former adversary Nick Massey, Rhys can think of  a few fates worse than death.

Nick Massey may have walked away from his troubles, but he never got past wanting Rhys. Once paired undercover, they’d been nothing but fireworks until a botched assignment ended her career, sending his into a tailspin. Now a mysterious client is willing to pay Nick anything to keep Rhys safe, but it isn’t until fate takes a critical turn that he realizes the devastating truth: he’s been her greatest threat all along.

And TIDE OF LIES, which follows my recent release FAMILIAR LIGHT, should see the light of day eventually. It’s under consideration (or under a rug, or perhaps under a high rise with that Hoffa fellow everyone is always looking for). Anyway, hopefully it will get out there somewhere shy of posthumously, and because I want you all to read FAMILIAR LIGHT so you’ll want to read TIDE OF LIES, here’s an excerpt of LIGHT. And keep in mind it’s only $3, and for that you get sex, lies, and murder. And some chafing, but sand does that, you know. ;c)

FAMILIAR LIGHT – excerpt

“Can I help you?” The gruff question trickled through the cavernous space like water leaking through pipes. He seemed to materialize from the shadows as he strode toward her, the rise of heat from the concrete floor keeping him just out of focus.

But her heart knew.

She swallowed a hard knob of regret. “Bridger?”

He couldn’t have heard her—not with the way she clung to his name, as if saying it out loud would be to lose another piece of him. But his step faltered, and the recognition in that interrupted cadence brought the burn of tears to her eyes.

No regrets.

She stood, trembling, as the fifty feet between them dwindled to ten. When he was close enough for her to make out the stubble lining his jaw, his legs stopped moving, but his gaze tore over her. The impassioned glare was without direction, a harsh reflection of the hard lines edging his face. The warm brown eyes she remembered were now a bitter shade of espresso.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

The words, tense with fury, sent her backpedaling against the concrete wall. Too late, she realized she no longer knew this man. They were kids when they’d parted ways, too naïve to realize they’d never keep those breathless promises. At least she’d been that way. His tone suggested otherwise.

They were alone in the deeply shadowed belly of Barrier Shoals Light. And for the first time within those walls, Laney tasted fear.

“Was I supposed to wait for you?” he asked.

Seven years had passed since her weak-kneed promise to return to him. She didn’t have an answer for that.

He took another step, boxing her against the curvature of the rock. He stood close—so close, she had to tip her head to meet his eyes.

And she summoned courage to do it.

“Was I?” he asked, his voice softer now. He leaned closer. The stifling heat morphed into sexual innuendo, his skin slick with sweat, daring her to touch.

She was one careless thought away from taking him up on that unspoken suggestion. Her fingers itched to claw through his hair, to draw him closer until the distance between them evaporated. Memories of frantically grasping for purchase against the stone wall besieged her, curling fear into boundless adrenaline. “Did you?”

Her words coaxed a slow grin from his sensual mouth. “Was I supposed to?”

FAMILIAR LIGHT blurb and links

BLURB

Seven years of longing comes down to just one night.

Laney Kent returns to Barrier Shoals hoping to reunite with her first love, Bridger. She anticipates his reception might be chilly, but what she doesn’t expect is to become the victim of a deadly obsession … or that this night with Bridger could be her last.

Bridger Jansen tangled a lot of sheets trying to forget about Laney, but his heart knew what the rest of him refused to admit: he could love no one else. He’s determined not to forgive her for leaving him without explanation, but when he fails to protect her from a viscous attack, the person he can’t forgive just might be himself.

BUY LINKS

NOBLE ROMANCE  https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/344/Familiar-Light

AMAZON http://www.amazon.com/Familiar-Light-ebook/dp/B0063JH94W/

BARNES & NOBLE http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Familiar-Light/Sarah-Ballance/e/2940013643741

Stalk Sarah yonder here:

WEBSITE  http://www.sarahballance.com/

BLOG  http://sarahballance.wordpress.com/

AMAZON  http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B003WKYEJI

TWITTER  http://twitter.com/#!/SarahBallance

FACEBOOK  http://www.facebook.com/sarah.ballance.author.news

NOBLE ROMANCE https://www.nobleromance.com/Authors/97/Sarah-Ballance

http://thebloghopspot.com/event-page/

Today, if you leave a comment and tell me how you met your significant other, the love of your life, the light in your eyes, you have a chance to win a copy of my book, Sly’s Surrender. Tell me about your love, it’s just as easy as that. Comments will be accepted through V-Day!

And to be fair, I’ll share a little tidbit from my own true life love story. I met my husband at a playground. We were both single parents and had brought our kids to a park so they could get their yayas out. As our kids took turns doing their fly by “Hi Mommy”s and “Hi Daddy”s, we got to talking and found we had a lot in common. As the sun set we had made plans to meet up again and with each play date we set up for our kids we got closer together. After about a month friendship sparked a romance and the rest is history. You never know when and where you’ll meet your special someone and though I never imagined I’d meet mind at a playground, I couldn’t think of anything more perfect.

Blurb: 

By day, Sly is a take-charge, no-nonsense restaurateur, and at night, she plays her hand as a demanding mistress. Sly has everything her heart desires: a successful business with loyal patrons, a gorgeous boyfriend, and a flare for dominating in the bedroom.

Everything she’s ever tried has gone her way, every decision followed to success, every goal achieved, and yet she yearns for more.

One night, she decides to try something new, giving up her customary control to the tall, dark, and sexy Jake. Jake is put in a position to prove to his lover just what he’s capable of, and Sly experiences the new pleasures to be found in letting someone else handle her reins.

Excerpt:

Jake had been waiting on his barstool for an hour already and had started to lose patience with his date. Oh, he knew she’d come eventually; she always did. But even knowing Sly’s usual M.O.—that of consistently arriving late—Jake never failed to show up on time, because the one time he decided to be late would be the one time she’d be on time. He sighed and checked his watch again. How much longer would he have to wait?

He called Tony over with a hasty jerk of his hand. The bartender rolled his eyes and shook his head. In his mid fifties, Tony had gray hair—what was left of it—and he wore a white dress shirt under a black vest. The only thing missing from his outfit was the black armband reminiscent of the style at the turn of the twentieth century. Sly told him once that Tony had been tending bar there for thirty years, which could explain his gruff attitude. Jake never had any problems with the old man but thought he had a funny way of treating paying customers. After a minute or two, Tony begrudgingly set a fresh glass of soda on a clean little napkin and sternly eyed Jake.

“Hope she’s worth it, boy,” he said with a grunt and a little too much emphasis on boy, as far as Jake was concerned.

Jake watched the back of the bartender’s shiny head as he turned to tend to a couple patrons who ordered more than a Coke, giving obvious preference to his more lucrative patrons.

Jake sighed again and glanced at the door. Still no Sly. Yeah, she was worth it, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy complying with all her demands—such as abstaining from drinking alcohol. He had to admit she had sound reasoning behind her command; how could she be in control if he was drunk? But her insistence he wait for her late ass all the time drove him crazy.

Welcome D. Dye!!!

!!!!!!  NOW AVAILABLE  !!!!!

 From Noble Romance

https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/393/Zapocalypse–The-Midnight-Special

Zapocalypse-The Midnight Special

Blurb:

Who knew that two lesbians stuck in the middle of some hick ass town deep in the swamps of southern Georgia would become local legends, heroes in their own right?

Gina and Ginger sure as hell didn’t.

But that’s exactly what they became the night of The Midnight Special.

Stuck battling backwoods, redneck hypocrites on a nightly basis at the diner was bad, but battling those same inbreds that now happened to be zombies was a whole different breed of stupid.

With their iPods jacked up and some Creedence Clearwater Revival on, that’s just what they’re doing.

Kicking some serious zombie ass!

With half the town, looking out their backdoors, and the other half fearing the bad moon rising, Gina realizes she and Ginger are thrust into a fight for the town as well as their lives.

Since Zapocalypse-The Midnight Specials  release, I am very proud to say that it hit the #1 Spot on Noble Romance’s Top 10 Weekly Sales List as well as has accumulated some great reviews.

Find me all around the NetVerse;

www.vitchslair.com or Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/vitch36 or Facebook under Dana Dye here: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100002828496100&sk=wall

Want to WIN something?

Well D. Dye has offered up several cool prizes (multiple winners) for simply commenting what your worst ever valentines was? Can be bad-or maybe it was one of those OOPSIE blopper Moments.

Prizes to be passed out include;

• Zapocalypse-The Midnight Special (e-book only)
• I-Tunes Gift of (choose one) The Midnight Special, Bad Moon Rising or Looking out my Backdoor.
• Valentines Swag Bag

Also, for more fun the L vs Z  gang will be hosting a big Chat and giveaway over at Coffee Time Romance & More on Feb 15^th 9-11:00 pm EST. Also be sure and check out the L vs Z page here: http://lvsz.wordpress.com/2011/11/21/welcome-to-lesbians-vs-zombies/

And follow the Whole Gang on Twitter for more L vs Z updates under…

                         lsbns_vs_zmbis

Reblogged from J.S. Wayne:

The firestorm that swept the romance community this weekend seems to have burned itself down from an inferno to a campfire. For everyone who’s been following this issue, you’re probably already aware that RWI cancelled the More Than Magic contest. Taken from their blog at http://rwimagiccontests.wordpress.com via http://www.fictionwithfriction.com/2012/02/06/more-than-magic-contest-cancelled/, the text of the announcement reads: “After much consideration, RWI regretfully announces the MTM Published …

Update on RWA/RWI same sex discrimination.

Image via Wikipedia

You might have heard the news. In case you didn’t, please take a moment to read this letter I wrote speaking out against discrimination regarding same sex story submissions.

If you feel strongly about this, please send an email to:  jackie.rwimagic@netscape.com, and info@rwa.org  Please keep it civil. It would only hurt the cause if hateful words are used. Spread the word if you care to.

Hello,

Ok. I might have asked nicely…  Don’t give me that look… Fine! I might have bribed him with whiskey and a pillow fight, but nothing more than that.

To add to the fun today, K.B. has generously offered up some of his books to a lucky reader who leaves a comment an their email addy. Read through the post for details.

Welcome back K.B. It’s good to have you here today.

Who's got the dollah bills? Ladies?

Hey, Renee, thanks for having me back at your pad. I promise I’ll wear pants while I blo . . .  –looks down-   Sorry. You might have to settle for a snazzy leopard skin Speedo. However, this time I remembered to put the potato in the fron . . .

Right, wrong blog, so sorry.

Any-hoo, I’m here today to discuss my new release, ‘Undead Reflections in a Jaundiced Eye.’  Yes, the title is a bit of a mouthful. To simplify, how ’bout we call it URJE.  Oh. Hmm. Sounds like the name of the guy I called for tech support last weekend.  Right, skip it.  We’ll just call it ‘Undead’ for now.

Speaking of Undead, I originally wrote it for another anthology, an up and coming indie horror publisher, a while back. The story was a tad quirky (okay, more than a ‘tad’) and I opted to go more of a conventional route with another submission. Undead languished on my laptop, tucked away in Word like another can of beans on the grocery shelf.  I meant to finish it and self publish on Amazon Kindle like my other works, Dead Fall and Sins of the Sparrow.  Other projects consumed my time and Undead remained in its Microsoft crypt.

Fast-forward two years.  Ruby Green contacted me, inquiring if I’d like to contribute a zombie story for an anthology to be published by Noble Romance.  The parameters being: Lesbians, Zombies, music and a college type setting.  I was intrigued. The concept was quite original and it gave me an opportunity to resurrect ‘Undead.’

The original hook I was going to use for the horror anthology was the ambiguity of the main character’s gender/sexuality. Told in first-person, I wanted the reader to believe it was a hetero male until a crucial moment in the story. Alas, not meant to be, however, I’m happy to see my tale of a group of misfits holed up in a roadside dive during a Zombie Apocalypse reanimated!

I think it fitting to remind aspiring writers or those who are established, SAVE your stories.  You never know when they might be called upon to lumber out of Cyber Limbo!

I’d like to thank Ruby Green for dreaming up the concept and Jill Noble for taking a risk on publishing a non-traditional romance anthology.  I hope Undead provides readers with enough thrills, chills and shivers of sensual delight as well as some food for thought (no pun intended . . . okay, maybe a little).

It is not your usual Zombie fare or erotic romance.

And that is the way I write it!

Thanks also to Renee for hosting me today. The woman is generous, allowing me to ramble on, ‘cuz you never know what the hell I’m gonna say!

I’d like to share a Blurb and bit of an excerpt from Undead Reflections of a Jaundiced Eye.

Annnnndddd… a little treat to the pithiest comment, a trifecta of terror, PDF copies of my horror stories, some laced with simmering sexuality,deviant lust and bit o’ the red:  Dead Fall, Sins of the Sparrow and Killing Apathy.  Please provide your e-mail addy in the body of your post.

You can peek at my work or the inner workings of my twisted mind at: www.kbcutter.com, where there are links to all of my published work.

Blurb:

An undead infestation can be a real killjoy. For a group of misfit weekend bikers holed up in roadside dive, it is the understatement of the century.  One of them, a jaded misanthrope, examines her life as civilization crumbles.  Will true love finally pierce the cynical veil shrouding her heart before the zombie horde devours her flesh?

Excerpt:

Chapter One

A Zombie Apocalypse can be a real buzz-kill.

The jolly Captain Morgan and I, best mates, we were; however, the buccaneer was playing mischief with my sea legs. I stood with said legs slightly apart, swaying as if the bar’s floor were the wooden deck planks of a pirate sloop.

I spotted my prize leaning against the jukebox, booted foot tapping in rhythm to George Thorogood’s raspy lament of “one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer.” Her treasures, encased in snug tight blue jeans that accentuated the tantalizing curves of her ass, were mine for the plundering. Life was good, damn good at Red’s Roadside Tavern, until one of the locals burst through the door.

The first thing I noticed was his eyes. Aside from an unnervingly vacant stare, his irises bore the milky white of cataract-afflicted orbs. His mouth was a crooked maw of blackened gums and jagged teeth; hair matted to his skull, slick with sweat and rain.

At the time, we had no clue that he–it–was the infected, soon to be walking dead. None of us did.

Christ, who would have?

Buy link:

https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/390/Undead-Reflections

H.C Brown is a multi published, bestselling author of, Historical, Paranormal, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, BDSM, Time Travel, Action Adventure and Contemporary Romance.” I write tender erotic romance, always with a happy ending.”

H.C writes under the pen name Pia Moonglow for YA Fantasy. Living in Australia with her own alpha male, HC enjoys walking hand in hand along the beautiful Gold Coast beaches.

Welcome to my pages, H.C.! Could you tell us when and why you started writing?

HC. I’ve always told stories but never had the time to write them down. My published writing career started in 2006. Writing is an addiction or an insanity, it must be due the misery we authors endure from critics and rejections. Then again. I don’t suffer from this insanity I enjoy every minute of it.

Any favorite authors? Who inspires you?

HC. My all time favorite author is Diana Gabaldon because I love reading Georgian era Historical.

Author David Kentner AKA KevaD’s way with words, is a great inspiration, he has a unique voice and a wonderful sense of humor. I believe he inspires most authors who read his work. I wish he would write a historical, civil war perhaps, story. He would bring the era to life.

People inspire me, their stories. I’m a listener.

I have to admit, I’m a pretty big fan of David’s also, and I can’t help but to agree, I find his style is really inspiring.

Do you ever get stalled in the middle of a story? If so how do you get past it?

HC. No, never stalled. Things going on in my life stall my writing, I would write 24 hours a day if I had my way.

Who has been your favorite character to write to date and why? 

HC. Nox King of the Fae— a stunningly handsome bisexual 7 feet tall alpha-male Fae, compassionate yet strong.

If you had the opportunity to meet one of your characters from your books, who would it be and what would you say to them?

HC. Nox-for all the reasons above . . . oh yeah.

” Make me young again, gorgeous, and your slave.”

Quick fire questions:

Favorite color:  Purple

Satin or Lace:  Satin

Most attractive part of the body:  Soul

Pantser or Plotter:  Pantser

Favorite place to write:  Anywhere quiet.

It’s so nice finding out more about you H.C. I especially like your answer to favorite body part.  :)  Soul, the greatest appendage. So, now that we have a good sense of who you are, would you care to share some of your work?

Lord & Master

Blurb:

Lord Reynold Wilton, fearing exposure after a public argument with his sex slave, Lord David Litchfield, leaves England for the Americas. On his return, he finds his delicious man in the hands of a brutal sadist. In a time when homosexuality is a hanging offense, Reynold must use every trick in the book to regain the possession and trust of his young lover.

 Excerpt:

Prologue

London 1769

A rush of pain radiated from Lord Reynold’s clenched teeth and into his temples. The burn from over exertion raged across his shoulders. His sweaty grip slipped on the leather handle of the cane, a narrow strip of birch he had commissioned especially for discipline. With lust, he gazed down at his slave, savoring the crisscrossed, red welts marking the porcelain flesh, the raised prints of his hand on each tender buttock. He bent over the slim figure tied so deliciously on the bench, and licked each crimson cut, using his mouth to soothe and caress. Reynold lapped, enjoying the taste of sweet skin, the rise of gooseflesh under his tongue. The man’s scent of soap mingled with the warm aroma of male sex filled his nostrils.

With the man tied this way, stretched out with both arms and legs secured, Reynold had complete control. The power of dominance surged through him. In truth, he could easily draw blood with his cane if he chose to, yet he loved this man and gave his slave what he craved. This session had been different from those long nights of bliss they’d enjoyed so often before. He needed to conquer his slave, to take back his role as master in a relationship teetering on the brink of disaster. With slow, deliberate moves, he stalked around the bench, running the cane over the sub’s quivering body. He stopped at the head of the young man. “Why do you question my loyalty? I will not tolerate such behavior.” He grasped a lock of the man’s long, blond curls. “Speak.”

“I am jealous, Master.”

Reynold brought the birch down in two swift cuts across the slave’s pristine back. The prone man’s cry sent blood rushing to his cock. Christ, he loved to hear his submissive moan. He threw down the cane. “Of whom are you jealous this time?”

“Lord John, Master.” The slave drew a shuddering breath. “I don’t want you to continue your friendship him.”

“When you are tied to my bed, I am the master.” Reynold met the man’s cornflower blue gaze. “I will not tolerate such demands from my slave. If you continue in this manner, I will have no option but to take my leave.” He ground his teeth. “I warn you, do not think to use my devotion as a weapon to manipulate me to your will. If needs be, I will take a commission abroad to be rid of you.”

“Reynold . . . I beg you—think of my feelings.”

“You would have me weak?” Reynold dropped his breeches. “I think not.”

“No, Master, not weak—never weak.” David’s gaze fell on Reynold’s shaft. “I do not care to share you with Lord John.” He licked his lips. “When you are in his company, I fear I will lose you.”

Reynold growled. “I regret now confiding my relationship with Lord John Henley to you before we became involved. The man is a dear friend but you are my lover. If you don’t believe this to be true, the trust you claim to have in me does not exist.” He sighed. “Perhaps it is you who wants to end our relationship.”

“Christ, I would have no other touch me in this way, and you know this to be true.” David poked out his tongue, and swiped it across the head of Reynold’s cock. He moaned. “I beg your forgiveness.”

“You have my forgiveness, but I cannot allow you to dictate which friends I have. You know I have no desire to fuck any of them. Arguing with me in public has already put us both under scrutiny. Christ, David we can’t be seen together. The risk is too high. What reason would I have to be in your company?” Reynold stroked David’s cheek. “If you cannot trust me, this time we have together—our relationship as master and slave, as lovers, will not survive.” Reynold groaned. “I care for you deeply but I won’t allow you to risk the hangman’s noose because of youthful foolishness. I will not offer you another chance, do you understand?” Reynold tugged David’s hair. “Do you?”

“Yes.” David smiled. “Master, will you allow me to pleasure you? I crave the taste of your seed.”

Palming his shaft, he guided it toward his slave’s rosy lips. He sighed as the man’s hot, wet mouth surrounded him with absolute bliss. He loved the way David’s flushed cheeks pulled tight with every withdrawn thrust. Later, he would take the man’s tight arse, and hear his intoxicating screams of delight. He could never have enough of his luscious young submissive. Reynold rolled his hips, his hands cradling David’s, sweat soaked cheeks. Lord, this man knew how to take him to heaven. Tipping back his head, he plunged deeper, fucking the man’s delightful throat.

This session with David had been brutal. Reynold wanted to stamp his authority over the young man. Of late, the possessive nature of his delicious sex-slave had become out of hand. David had grown too demanding. Reynold had no option but to take a stand. The submissive’s teeth raked a path up his aching cock, the man’s agile tongue flicking over the sensitive tip. Reynold bit back a groan and fell into the darkness of forbidden bliss. His slave’s mouth became a whirlpool of ecstasy spinning him into an uncontrollable, shattering conclusion. Christ, David, for once, do as I say. Your jealousy is leading us down a path of damnation.

Chapter One

Three years later—London 1772

Chapter One

Lord Reynold Wilton opened his pocketbook and paid the tailor’s account, grateful to be finally out of uniform. He met the gaze of Mr. Joseph Brown. The man had produced every inch of clothing he had worn since a boy. “Have everything else sent over to Spencer Street. There’s a good man.”

Donning the new hat he’d purchased from Locks in Bond Street, Lord Reynold pulled on his gloves and turned to look in the mirror. The new, delightfully comfortable, clothes fit well. Soft and fresh against his skin, the linen provided a welcome change from his stagnant, uniform shirt and stiff smalls. At last, after three despicable years, he resembled a gentleman again. The new clothes, ordered by letter some three months prior, had surprised him with their elegance. Mr. Brown had tailored each garment in the height of fashion, right down to the fine, lawn ruffles and silver buttons. White silk stockings and a cloak of the finest, black wool lined in silk completed his dress. He rubbed his chin and smiled ruefully at his reflection. The breeches stretched tight about his thighs and bottom, and Mr. Brown had pinched the jacket in at the waist to enhance the width of Reynold’s shoulders. The cravat lay in exquisite folds. Dressed as such, in blue velvet, with his hair tied in a neat queue, he knew how men of his predilection would react to his appearance. Christ, I look like a peacock. In truth, his body had changed from soft to hard and muscular, but a commission in the Americas did that to a man. His face had altered too, but not in a bad way. He had not suffered any serious injury during his time abroad, but the man with haunting eyes in his reflection had replaced the innocent expression of youth.

Although, relieved by the sale of his commission and consequent arrival in England, his thoughts were not on returning immediately to his country estate in Surrey. Rather, he had spent the last two days in his townhouse close to Hyde Park, not wanting to endure the immediate duties of lord of the manor.

Lord Reynold stepped from the shop and glanced down Oxford Street. Nothing of note had changed in London during his time abroad with exception of women’s fashion and the volume of carriages barreling along the dusty roads. He drew a deep breath to enjoy the scents of normality after enduring an eternity of stinking jacks and sweat. The smell of gunpowder and the unforgettable stench of a military camp had combined with horrors a man could never forget.

For three long years, Reynold had remained abroad. Christ, he had little choice. His role as master had become impossible after another very-public argument with David had threatened to expose them both. To avoid the scandalmongers and the chance of prosecution for the act of sodomy, he made the heart-wrenching decision to leave his lover.

Reynold stood for a few seconds to enjoy his surroundings. There had been a meager amount of birds brave enough to negotiate the noisy camps, and his heart lifted to see an abundance of sparrows feasting on a discarded crust of bread on the footpath. Above a blue sky peeked briefly through a profusion of white fluffy clouds. A stream of sunlight bathed a rose bush sitting in a large, yellow glazed pot beside the milliners next door. The rich perfume from the red blooms mixed with the pungent odor of horse dung squashed on the road. The hay infused clumps thrown in all directions by the constant stream of carriage wheels. Everything is so normal, as if no one knows a war of great proportions is looming.

Moving toward the curb, Reynold called out to his driver to take him to Charters, a gentlemen’s club in Vauxhall, and climbed into the carriage. He sighed, rested his head on the back of the seat, and closed his eyes. A familiar memory flooded his consciousness. The vision of a young man, exceptionally featured, with a soft gaze the color of a summer sky, hooded with long, tawny lashes. He groaned, recalling his sweet slave’s sated expression from hours of glorious sex. The young body so deliciously secured his skin damp and flushed from his master’s cane. David.

Buy Link: https://www.nobleromance.com/Authors/40/H-C-Brown

My web: www.hcbrown-author.com

Blog: www.hcbrownauthoroferoticromance.bligspot.com

Thank you H.C., having you here has been fun! Please feel free to come and hang out any time.