The Lion Man

My Sexy Saturday Week #50

  Happy Saturday everyone! It's time for another round of sexy tidbits from the authors at the My Sexy Saturday blog hop. We each share either 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs from a published or in-progress work.

    My latest WIP, the third book in my erotic contemporary romance trilogy, Tracking Tor, is almost finished. But this week I'm offering a snippet from the first book in the series--Mirage.

  In this scene, Julie has just met Tor among the beautiful ruins of Palmyra, Syria. She can hardly wait to get to know him better.

Here's my 7 sentence excerpt from the first book in the tracking Tor Trilogy: Mirage.
 In the courtyard of Palmyra's museum, Julie spotted a weathered bas-relief carving of a lion propped against the trunk of a palm tree. Full-maned and regal, he seemed the very symbol of power. She began to snap some photos from different angles, thinking about Tor, the man she would be meeting at dinner. He had leonine qualities, certainly. Her body began to thrum as she thought about what it had felt like to sit behind him on the bike, the big motor hurling them both through space, its vibrations ricocheting through her body.
  Maybe he'll want to do more than take me riding tonight? 

Tracking Tor, Book Three is titled River, and will be released by eXtasy Books in August. 

Remember that this is a blog hop, so hop on over to the other participants here.

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Still Tracking Tor

My Sexy Saturday Week #49

Happy Saturday everyone! It's time for another round of sexy tidbits from the authors at the My Sexy Saturday blog hop. We each share either 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs from a published or in-progress work.

    This week I'm offering a peek at my latest WIP, the third book in my erotic contemporary romance trilogy, Tracking Tor. Julie and Tor meet while touring the Middle East and enjoy a one-night stand. But Julie can't let him go so easily, and takes on the challenge of tracking him down through the deserts and oases of Syria and Jordan. 

In this scene, the tables have turned, and it is Tor who tracks Julie up the Nile as far as Aswan. 

Tracking Tor, Book Three is titled River, and will be released by eXtasy Books in August. 

Here's my 7 sentence excerpt:

  Julie laughed. “ I was afraid you’d think I was some sort of stalker.” She rubbed her breasts against the hair on Tor's chest and kissed him again. Her tongue slid out of his mouth and along his jawline, down his salty neck, muscled shoulder, to trace the outline of the multi-colored tattoo on his bicep.

  She closed her eyes and smiled. “I didn’t really want to stalk you. I wanted you to come to me.”

  “And now look what’s happened,” he said, embracing her. "You chased me until I caught you."

Remember that this is a blog hop, so hop on over to the other participants here.

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Voyeur

My Sexy Saturday Week #28.

Happy Saturday everyone! It's time for another round of sexy tidbits from the authors at the My Sexy Saturday blog hop. We each share either 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs from a published or in-progress work.

    This week I'm still thinking about what my characters find sexy in each other. A man like Tor in Book One: Mirage of my erotic contemporary romance trilogy, Tracking Tor, is irresistible to Julie. In this scene, they've just made love and since Tor has fallen asleep, she takes the opportunity to feast her eyes.

Tracking Tor, Book One: Mirage will be released soon by eXtasy Books.

Here's my 7 paragraph excerpt:


  When the adhan woke Julie a few hours later, she saw the sun's rays slanting through the shades at a softer angle. One of her arms was asleep, and she extricated it from under Tor's neck, causing him to stir. But he didn't wake up.
  That gave her a chance to study him. His hair had come loose from its tie, and the afternoon light made it glow in golden strands. His lashes were long and dark, the smooth skin of his face brown against the white sheets of the bed.
  She pulled away a little to admire his long back, the dimples on either side of his tailbone, the symmetry of his round buttocks. His legs were long, too, but well-defined, and covered with downy hair.
  She shifted again so she could see the front of his body-- his belly, the hair between his legs, and the now-sleeping penis. Then she looked up to his abs and chest, the symmetrical pattern of soft hair, his corded neck.
  And then right up into his open eyes.
  She blushed.
  "And what do you think you're looking at?" He rolled onto his back, raised his arms and bent them back behind his head, lacing his fingers together. A playful smile teased her as he exposed himself fully to her scrutiny.

Remember that this is a blog hop, so hop on over to the other participants here.

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My tribute to Doris Lessing

When I heard today that Doris Lessing had died, I didn't feel sadness at her death as much as gratitude for the life she lead. After all, 94 is giving it a pretty good good run. I guess I'm a little sad that now I know I'll never meet her. But I can take solace in my autographed copy of her novel, Ben, in the World.

Mind you, I don't think I'd have been up to meeting her anyway. She was too much of a lion to my mouse, too much a literary and cultural giant to my provincial attempts at thinking and teaching. But just because she's dead doesn't mean she's gone. She will always be a part of me because she helped form me. For better or worse, I am who I am because I read The Grass Is Singing, the four Martha Quest novels and dozens of her short stories while I was in my impressionable twenties.

Her words taught me that I could say "no" to the sacred institutions of marriage and motherhood. And as I grew through my thirties, and tackled The Golden Notebook, The Four-Gated City, some of her science fiction, and more short stories, I learned about politics. I learned about politics on a micro level--relationships between men and women, friends, family and community members--and I learned about macro politics on national, global and universal scales.

But the most important thing I learned from Lessing was to be oneself. My self. And if people don't like me as I am, I hope she has taught me to accept that gracefully, and carry on.

Lessing was a brave woman. Maybe she wasn't the most gracious, nor the most likeable. Maybe she was a bad mother, a failure as a wife--I don't know. And maybe, as I've read more than once, her novels tended to be long, rambling, confessional and self-important. But because of her I feel I know a little about Africa, a little about marriage, mental illness, love, jealousy, rage, friendship and loneliness.

I've also learned a little about what it takes for a woman to march to the beat of her own drum.

And the fact that some people might be pissed off? So what?

Thank you, Doris Lessing.

Sexy top to toe

My Sexy Saturday Week 25

   Happy Saturday everyone! It's time for another round of sexy tidbits from the authors at the My Sexy Saturday blog hop. We each share either 7 words, 7 sentences or 7 paragraphs from a published or in-progress work.

    This week I've been thinking about what my characters find sexy in each other. A man like Sam in my sweet contemporary, Just Desserts, might seem aloof, at first. But he's sexy from top to toe and poor love-struck Jackie can't help but find even those toes desirable.

Here's my seven sentence excerpt:

   Every once in a while Jackie snuck a peek at Sam, astounded that he was actually sitting there in her room, watching her TV.
   He's so incredibly sexy, sprawled out on my furniture like that. Those luscious lips wrapped around the mouth of his beer bottle. His body so strong and fit. Even his feet look good in those clean white socks. 
   She had to force herself to look away—she knew he knew she was checking him out.
   As soon as the program was over, he abruptly put his shoes back on and jumped up, saying, “Thanks. I’m off.”

This is a blog hop, so click here to keep hopping and see what the other participants have to say about Sexy.


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That awkward first meeting

 It's time for the Hump Day Hook blog hop for November 13th, where writers tempt readers with a few lines from either a published or in-progress work.

  I've been thinking about hooks--they're first impressions, really. In romance novels, first impressions, like in real life, are often false, or misleading. One convention in romance is the hate-at-first-sight-despite-being-wildly-attracted meet. I wanted to do something a little different in Just Desserts, my sweet romance set in Seattle.

In this scene, Jackie meets Sam for the first time since she was twelve, so she has previous experiences to draw on. But she's also grown up hearing the stories about his wild past. His reputation as a ladies' man has her scared, but she's also curious. The contrasts between what she expects--and what she finds--are set up here.

Here's the excerpt:

  When Jackie got downstairs she saw a black Dodge SUV idling in front of her building. It was immaculately clean, its chrome trim glinting in the morning sunshine. The driver leaned over and opened the passenger door from the inside, his one concession to helping her aboard. Hesitantly she pulled at the door handle and an empty plastic water bottle fell on her foot and rolled onto the pavement. She picked it up, and then found herself staring into the messiest truck cab she’d ever seen.
  It was filled with magazines, newspapers, paper cups, binders, mail, books, food wrappers and more water bottles. She must have wrinkled her nose in distaste because the first words out of Sam’s mouth were, “Don’t worry. It’s not garbage. It’s my office. Come on in.”
  Jackie’s anger dissolved as her curiosity grew stronger. He was moving books and papers from the seat to the floor to make room for her. So she climbed in, then looked from the chaos of the office to the man himself. He was—how could she describe him—exceptionally good looking. Of course he was. He couldn’t be the man she’d heard so much about all these years if he hadn’t been attractive to women. His reputation was intimidating enough, and now she was unnerved even more by his appearance. Anxiety and excitement replaced any residual anger she was feeling. 

Keeping hopping by clicking here: Hump Day Hook.

View Just Desserts on Amazon.


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Doesn't he smell good?

It's Week #24 of the My Sexy Saturday blog hop. I'm finally getting the hang of this hopping thing. I haven't double-posted by mistake for awhile. And I've remembered to include the links to the other participants. Well done, me!

In celebration of having my novel re-instated on Amazon (after its dubious disappearance over a problem with one of the words in its title) I'm going to share another slice from Cult of the Black Virgin.

This week we're posting excerpts that show a character succumbing  to what he or she finds sexy. I've been thinking about the sense of smell lately, and the role it plays in arousal.

Recently I visited my alma mater, and although many things had changed in the years since I last set foot in its halls, one thing was exactly the same--the smell. It transported me back to the past with a speed and vividness that astonished me.

I'm trying to use the evocative power of smell in my fiction, too. And I'm not talking about the smell of musty hallways, or dewy roses or sizzling steaks--I'm talking man sweat here. In this 7-paragraph passage, after Jo is seduced by the way Luc looks, speaks, behaves, her nose gets in on the action. As soon as she smells him up close and personal, she's a goner.

She's just made a phone call from a stone turret converted into a phone booth. Luc 
follows her...

Here's the excerpt:

  “Luc! What are you doing here? Do you need to use the phone?”
  “But of course. Why else do you think I would be waiting here?” His eyebrow arched and a playful smile flit across his face. He moved towards her.
  Jo grew flustered. In her silliness she assumed he’d followed her for some secret purpose of his own. It was embarrassing to have been caught off guard, projecting her own desires, although he couldn’t have known what they were.
  “Oh. Well, then. L-let me get out of your way.”
  As she tried to leave the small tower, not daring to meet his eyes, he moved towards her again, effectively blocking her exit. Then he slowly raised his arms and grabbed the sides of the stone doorway, trapping her inside.
  “Um,” she said, “what are you...?” She knew very well what he was doing. He was playing with her. She didn’t know if she found it juvenile or fun. Until she smelled him.

  Now he was literally looming over her, his long body pushing closer still, almost touching her own. The smell of his sweat aroused her instantly, intensely. Her nipples sprang to attention, rubbing against the rough lace of her bra. She became afraid, backing up a little. 

This is a blog hop, so keeping hopping here: My Sexy Saturday Blog Hop.
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