I’ve always been a sucker for a romantic title. Linda Banche’s LADY OF THE STARS makes me feel all starry-eyed and swoony-romantic inside.
Romance novels titles have always been a source of sweet pleasure for me. And, of course, if the title got me, back in the good ole days, especially the 80s, I would read the blurb, or whatever was on the back of the cover, then decide if I wanted to read a few pages. If I liked what I read, then I bought the book. Actually, I would also read whatever romance novels my sis sent my way. She did big time buying and, also, trading at a used bookstore.
In titling my own erotic romance novels it’s been magical, at times. There it is, the title. Or enough of it that I could easily pull it from my Muse. ALL SHADES OF BLUE PARADISE is an example. At other times, either my Muse was on strike, or I just wasn’t listening well enough... or, who knows? The creative process is mysterious at best... sometimes.
One title I had dickens of a time with was RED LIONESS TAMED. I had originally titled the novella with the heroine’s name, Sun Rocket Kahoqua of the Windgrass Clan. Okay, that was too long for Liquid Silver Books. And, that turned out to be a good thing. Tina Burns, the acquisition editor at that time, suggested Lioness Tamed. Good, but it didn’t quite have that special panache-bang that appeals to me, as a writer and a reader.
So, during my twilight time, between sleeping and waking up, there it was, repeating over and over in my mind... Red Lioness Tamed... perfect because my heroine’s lioness coat is red in color, and because that title sang inside me.
Recently, I finished a short story, about 5,000 words. It’s been submitted for an anthology call. The idea for this particular erotic romance came to me before I knew about the anthology. The working title was Weightless and Wanted.
I had recalled that opening scene in the campy, sci fi B movie, BARBARELLA... where Jane Fonda peacefully floats inside a weightless environment. My story evolved from there and from research I did on weightlessness. I mean, hey, what is it like to make love while floating weightless?
It’s the old ENQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW... if you’re from my generation you’ll recall that popular saying.
Yep, ever the curious cat, and because my heroine and hero began nagging me non-stop, and because the challenge of writing this story GOT ME in its claws... well, I yielded. However, I was never satisfied with the working title.
Yeah, it conveyed my story. But! It wasn’t romantic enough for my sensibilities. Not by a long shot. And being a devout romantic at heart, I had to do better.
So, after days of pondering, typing out various titles and generally tugging at my brain cells, finally the title arrived. Ta-da! WEIGHTLESS INSIDE HIS WINGS.
And here’s a blurb-summary ~
Striker of the Kalluv Windworld is a warrioress for her people. An adept at protecting herself from every known method of mind control, her missions take her across the galaxy to search out and stop those who enslave other races. Her last memory is hunkering down during a sandstorm. Now she finds herself floating inside an anti-grav sphere.
Dhray Zorr of the Vjemic Realm is a warrior on his planet-world. His kind, a hawk-panther shapeshifter, has been genetically designed to battle for freedom, then to hold it against would-be tyrants. However, there are few suitable mates on his world, and the population is declining rapidly. Now, he must face one more duty. He is called upon to take an alien woman as his mate.
So, what are some of your favorite romance novel titles?
HAPPILY EVER AFTER AUTUMN DAYS ~
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
I can think up some weird titles.
The title of Lady of the Stars, my Regency time travel novella, is not too crazy. But what about Pumpkinnapper, my Regency Halloween comedy?
What's a pumpkinnapper, you ask? Here's the one line blurb: Pumpkin thieves, a youthful love rekindled and a jealous goose. Oh, my!
As further examples of my penchant for weird titles, here are some of the titles of my posts:
Oh, No, Not Another Author Blog!-- My very first post. Probably shows it.
How I Started--Writing, That Is--My beginnings as a writer. Yawn.
To Blog Or Not To Blog, That Is The Question (My Apologies to the Bard)-- Blogging takes a lot of time. Does it help sell books? You got me.
And How Did You Become An Author? Success out of failure. Or maybe I'm just too stupid to give up.
And then we have my blog's Shameless Promotion series--subtitled Linda's Adventures in Promotion Land:
Shameless Promotion II
Shameless Promotion, Again
More Shameless Promotion (Does She Ever Stop?)
Shameless Promotion. Again??!!!
Shameless Promotion - It Never Ends
And the titles I like the best, from right here on Happily Ever After:
Gorgeous Men in Tight Breeches & Ruffled Shirts
Gorgeous Men in Tight Breeches and Ruffled Shirts II
This series is my ode to Regency gentlemen's clothing. (What did you think it was?) I have to write a few more posts in the same vein. We can never have too many gorgeous men in our lives. **grins**
Do titles catch your interest? What do you like in a title?
Thank you all,
Welcome to My World of Historical Hilarity!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Way back when, I learned what was acceptable in non-fiction wasn't always acceptable in fiction as far as how you write and format many things. Makes sense. It would be strange to see bullets and tables in fiction wouldn't it?
Well, I'm finding it awkward, distracting and sloppy to read fiction with things in parenthesis. What's up with this? Months ago, I came across a new author doing this and just when I wanted to explain to him that you don't do this and to use italics instead, I found a New York Bestseller doing this very thing in her recent work. I was horrified. It left me with a dilema. In critiquing, we teach others how to properly write as far as grammar, punctuation and structure, now I don't know what to tell them.
The other day, I picked up a book from my to-be-read stack and not only did this author use the parenthesis, but he also wrote the story in second person. Ok, now I have another issue to deal with, because I've read on many epub sites as well as agent sites where they only want first person or third person - some even say they don't take second person. Now, not all second person writings are as bad as this book I attempted to read. I have recently read a well written story in second person by an unpubbed and told her not to change it without trying to sell it first even though the road may be tough.
I'm currently reading a book where the first ten chapters is all back story and very choppy as well as full of unfinished scenes. I forced myself to continue and finally the real story began just under half way through the book. A major, major snafu for this NY Bestseller. If I wasn't used to her unconventional methods and hoping she didn't let me down completely, I would have not made it past the first few pages.
In the mean time, I'm learning that most of what I'd been taught in the last five years was nothing but a waste of time.
So, what do I tell these young fledglings who are looking to learn from someone who crossed over from writer to author?
All writers are encouraged to read, read, read the genres they wish to write, but gosh darn it, what if reading them are teaching them bad habits? Guess it really doesn't matter or so it seems by the books passing through editors and onto the shelves. It's really hard to guide these young writers when they are seeing book after book published with all the things I'm telling them not to do.
Any thoughts on this?
How do you handle things you come across which you've been told are no-nos? Do you overlook them? Do they distract you, making you wonder why they did it and why the editor didn't correct it?
Friday, September 17, 2010
Author of paranormal, fantasy and mainstream, Mahalia is following her childhood dream of being an author. The stories are pouring out of her along side raising an active family. Today, she's sharing with us her Interracial story, Flaws and All. I'm intrigued with the fact Nadja is a lounge singer. What a refreshing position for a heroine.
Nadja Mederios knows what she wants after months of watching Donato keep order at Club Mist, and an intervention from her best friend Taleena. As a lounge singer, she portrays a sensual, sultry woman, but she's not the high-maintenance girl people assume she is. In fact, a tomboy lies beneath her protective costume. When the real woman comes to light, she hopes Donato finds her just as sexy as the mask.
Donato Falcone isn't looking for commitment, but when someone touches Nadja without permission, rational thought leaves him and rage steps in. After his temper cools, he sees a different side of Nadja. Her sleek sophistication may well be a front for the girl who could be his forever, if he can find a way to break down her barriers.
"Donato," Deja greeted with a smile.
He looked at Nadja. "I thought I told you to make sure the glass was empty when I returned."
Liquid stung his eyes. He blinked and reached for a napkin to wipe the alcohol dripping off his face and neck. The sheer gall of the temptress in front of him stunned him. Activity around them halted as people whispered. His jaw ticked, and anger suffused his face. He tried counting before reacting, but he wasn't surprised at all when it failed to work.
Pushing Deja out of the way proved difficult. "Move it," he roared, his gaze catching Derek coming through.
"Donato, she didn't mean be so brazen." Deja stood as a barrier.
"Like hell I didn't. I won't be bullied by anyone, Donato, including you," Nadja said, peeking out from around her friend.
"Deja, I suggest you get out of his way," Derek interjected, his hand on her arm. "Nadja's a big girl, and she's not in imminent danger. Plus I don't want to get beat down trying to protect you for something we have nothing to do with."
Deja stuck her finger out at Derek. "She's my friend, and I don't need a punk for a man, so if this is the real you, then we have nothing else to discuss."
Donato chuckled at Derek's perplexed expression. "Nadja, come here."
"I'm fine where I'm at, Donato." Nadja held her ground.
Derek hauled Deja into his arms. "We'll take this up later. Later, Donato."
Donato slid his gaze to Derek. "Good luck with her." As the newcomer walked away with Deja, he had a clear view of Nadja. Anger shone in her glare. The stinging in his eyes had receded, or his anger blocked out the smarting pain. Either way, she was a sitting duck, and she knew it. He continued to gaze at her, keeping his face stoic. "You can't move fast in that gown. The best option is for you to get up and come with me peacefully. You know actions have consequences." As she processed the information, his anger turned to amusement and then lust. Life with her would never be boring, and he'd get accustomed to her fiery demeanor. Who knows—pricking that passionate temper might prove fun.
"Don't fire me," Nadja muttered, sliding off the barstool and walking over to him.
"Smart girl." He pressed a hand at the small of her back, drew her into his embrace. "Firing you is the last thing on my mind."
"What's the first?"
"This." Her scent had been driving him insane all night. The urge to taste her now won as he parted her mouth with his own, sliding his tongue in to taste her spicy essence. Sweet and supple, she tasted of heaven on a warm sunny day. He groaned and wrapped his arms tighter about her, pushing deeper, sealing her taste to memory. Her haggard breathing told him she hungered. Slender arms gripped his own. The background faded, leaving just her. "I can't believe you tossed a drink at me," he murmured, breaking off the kiss.
"Shh. You're not sorry. I saw it in your face." He nipped her lip and rubbed her back, his hand dangerously close to gripping her sweet ass. Remembering they were at work had a sobering effect. He damned his libido and stepped away from her, but not before he made sure she knew how much he wanted her. There. Now. Stepping away, he noticed they'd drawn attention again. Twice in one night he'd put her in the spotlight, and not the one on stage. A private man, he disliked public displays of affection or altercation. He dropped his hand.
"When you're ready to go, have them call me. I have business to attend to." Clearing his head came first, and then he'd figure out what to do with Nadja, besides designing a strategy to possess every inch of her delectable body. If the rest of her tasted like her sweet mouth, he was done for.
"I'll be ready as soon as I change," she replied softly.
Donato nodded and moved out of her way.
Available at: Beautiful Trouble Publishing
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Welcome interracial author, Marilyn Lee. I can't believe I've found another Charlie Chan fan. Warner Olan rocks. Today, Marilyn is sharing her rough road to publishing interracial romance. Thanks for being here today.
My how things have changed—for the better regarding writing and publishing interracial romances. When I first started writing ebooks I wasn’t aware of any other author writing interracial romances. In those days, it was difficult to get a publisher to accept one. Epublishers (like their New York counter parts) weren’t convinced there was a market for them.
Since I had a number of friends involved in I/R relationships and marriages, I knew of their desire to read books that mirrored their romantic life. But getting publishers to agree with me wasn’t easy. After having several manuscripts rejected, I decided I needed to actually get a “regular” romance accepted first and then try again to get some of my I/R books accepted and published as I/R books.
I made all the heroes and heroine in my books Caucasian and was then able to sell a number of them to various epublishers. Once I had a few book-length manuscripts published, I turned my attention back to getting an I/R one published. Instead of trying to convince a publisher to accept a full-length novel, I wrote three short stories. The first had a Caucasian couple, the middle story had an African-American couple, and the third had an I/R couple. It was called White Heat.
I like to think of White Heat as the little story that could because it was so successful that it overshadowed the other two stories in the anthology. That anthology (called Carnal Confessions and published by Ellora’s Cave) even managed to garner a 89 rating from Mrs. Giggles.
I later broke up Carnal Confessions and sold White Heat to Zane who published it in Chocolate Flava in 2004. Six years later, I am still getting emails from readers who write to tell me how much they loved White Heat.
But even after White Heat was published, it was still some time before I was able to write I/R romances on a regular basis. But happily these days, readers who enjoy reading what I love to write have so many more authors to choose from. Interracial romances now come in all heat levels and genres.
I’ve been fortunate enough to develop a supportive reader base that has allowed me to explore most of them. My forty some published books include interracial romances from nearly every genre. I’ve written an erotic I/R vampire series (my Bloodlust series), an I/R shifter series (my Moonlight series), I/R books featuring bbw heroines, I/R books featuring Native American heroes (the Grayhawks, the Redwolfs, and the Elkhorns), I/R themed books with m/m lovers, and I currently have three published I/R inspirational romances that have generally been well received.
I’m delighted more publishers have realized there’s a market for I/R romances and writers no longer have to jump through hoops to get such books accepted.
Readers interested in exploring my take on I/R romances can find a list of my books at my website (http://www.marilynlee.org/ ).
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Welcome Cinsearea S. With your love of horror movies, I'm not surprised you've found your passion writing paranormal. Oh, and designing the covers of many. They are fabulous. We're thrilled to you here to talk about interracial relationships, and the writing of them.
Writing interracial paranormal romance was never a big deal for me. Gone *should* be the days where such relationships were considered a sin, illegal, taboo, or were simply unheard of. Unfortunately, there are some people who exist who maintain such an antiquated and outdated mentality, and those that still take a second glance at an interracial couple. I have friends who are either involved in such relationships or are in an interracial marriage, myself included. Why should anyone care about trivial things, such as the color of one's skin when it comes to relationships? The main concern should be how well the couple gets along, their respect for each other, and their love for each other. In short, it shouldn't matter if the person is black, white, yellow, brown, green or purple, as long as they both click. It's all about a spiritual connection; the physicalities are just the asset. We all share the same biology--color should not be a factor in determining who one decides to spend their life with.
Bruce Lee and Linda Emery. Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz. David Bowie and Iman. Seal and Heidi Klum. These are just a smidgen of couples who have been or are still in interracial relationships/marriages.
For me, writing about such a relationship not only is the norm, but fun. In my stories, my heroine, Christine, is of Hispanic descent while her fiance', Ryan, has British origins. Aside from their vast ages, which would probably spark a lot of comments alone, their contrasts in heritage make for a lot of colorful moments, both funny and loving. My characters are not without the occasional 'second look' or snobbish remark from strangers or associates, and I like to have my heroine give them a little verbal slap-in-the-face from time to time. Each one continually learns something about the other, not to mention their continually growing vampiric powers and abilities, in my dark paranormal romance series "ABRAXAS" (http://bloodtouch.webs.com/abraxas.htm)
Remember: Discrimination and hate are taught, not innate. There's enough negativity going on in the world as it is; why add more pointless drivel to it?
BLURB FROM "The ABRAXAS SERIES--Books 1-3"
Christine Vargas is an independent, young, working-class girl, violently swept into another world--a world deemed unrealistic and impossible by many, a world under the mundane one she is so used to. During her physical transition, she has to come to grips with new powers she has been bestowed, and join up with her new 'Lord', Ryan Price, a gentleman of high social status--and twice her age. Her 'new family' is a motley crew of young vampires, and among the family are two rebellious twins trying to dethrone Ryan and take over the clan with their own legion of bloodthirsty--and drug-hungry--vamps. Only Christine can determine the outcome of the oncoming battle and must chose quickly before the unthinkable happens. This is only the start of the strange, twisted, and mystical life Christine is now a part of, as scarier situations present themselves to her, Ryan, and their delicate ABRAXAS clan---and sometimes, the 'monsters' aren't quite what you'd expect...
Visit http://bloodtouch.webs.com/abraxas.htm & discover The ABRAXAS Series...
Editor/Publisher of Dark Gothic Resurrected Magazine
Cover Artist for Damnation Books & Individual Clients
FIND ME ON ETSY! (Mistress Rae's Decadent Designs)
Posted by HEA Authors at 8:11 AM
Monday, September 13, 2010
Prejudice against those who are merely different, not only rears its ugly head between different races of humans, but also, as I found out... well, my hero, Volcano, who is known as a carnal cherub in his realm, isn’t supposed to be with Sedona, my human heroine, even if she is an incarnated angel. It’s ‘oooh-ick’ according to some.
Of course, all of us have a right to our opinions. We have a right to our feelings. And when we’re reading a romance, we have a right to be as prejudice as we want. Sexual desire and attraction is what it is. Who and what turns us on, is who and what turns us on.
So, it doesn’t hurt my feelings if a reader decides any of my books are not to be found on their reading list. However, I don’t think there’s any need to get personal about it. After all, what may be ‘oooh-ick’ and disgusting to you, may be what floats someone else’s romantic boat. It may be their erotic romance fantasy come true.
That’s part of the beauty of the human race, we are all individuals.
August 13, 2010 was the two year anniversary of Sedona and Volcano’s love story, WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS. Last year I wrote their first anniversary scene. And, this year, I didn’t resist...not too much. I was hoping, though, *silly, silly me* that writing their new love/passion scene wouldn’t be like tearing my brain cells out.
Okay, so it was... but, at least, I had weeks to work on it rather than one night. Why these two scenes have been two of the most difficult I’ve ever penned, I have no idea. And, yes, this scene is X-RATED.
Mars, Here We Come
December 21, 2014
Awed, Sedona murmured, “It isn’t a dream.”
“No, my angel woman. We’re flying through the celestial skies.”
Their small crystalline ship slipped through the ether mist, a field of energy thinly blanketing the material realm. Volcano had created the ship for interplanetary travel. The castle-looking structure sustained both their physical bodies and their spiritual essence, and kept them in a balanced state.
“Now this is my idea of traveling in space.” From the corner of her eye, Sedona watched Volcano rotate his palms over two shining crystal obelisks, fine-tuning their resonance with each other.
“Sedona, my beloved, do you know how often I dreamed of you when I was away on mission?”
“No.” The breathy squeak almost lodged in her throat. She swallowed convulsively, not seeing anything for seconds.
“My love.” His voice swept around her, a sweet wind caressing her everywhere.
“I missed you so terribly.” She felt each word pour from her heart as her tears had fallen. Unlike many of her cherub’s divine missions, there had been no telepathic communication between them. No dream-walking with each other.
Aru, their precious dog, had climbed onto her lap often, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes as she stroked him. Now, Aru visited with Volcano’s best buddy in the sacred realm, Jorque, a large canine shapeshifter.
“Whenever I closed my eyes to commune, I dreamed of you instead, my Sedona. The High Council Masters were not amused.” Volcano chuckled, his laughter jovial yet purely masculine.
“Yet, your Good prevailed?” Sedona knew in her spirit he had triumphed. However, the human side of her still wanted to hear him say it.
“Yes. Soon I will properly regale you with the story. We will make manna buttered popcorn.”
His tone promised and teased both, as he loved doing with her.
“This time I get to add the butter,” Sedona tossed, her tone a match to his.
Within a moment, she saw the image Volcano mind-sent of them holding each other in front of their cabin’s roaring fireplace. She smiled, but didn’t wing it inside his mind. A series of harp-like musical tones let her know he focused on increasing their speed.
Enthralled by the prism-colored stars blazing toward them, Sedona didn’t hear Volcano’s steps until he’d moved behind her.
“Mars, here we come.”
His irresistible rasp seduced her to stormfire surrender, as Sedona liked to think of it. Volcano wrapped his arms around her in that way she adored, and Sedona sighed, happiness filling her like the pink radiance of a sunrise. She leaned back into his embrace while he pulled her flush against his sinfully sexy body. Bending to her ear, he sensually enticed the rim with his nose.
Sparks of pleasure danced through Sedona, and she moaned. “Insatiable carnal cherub,” she mock complained.
“At your service, my beautiful woman.”
“Mmmm... I can feel your ‘service’. Beastly impressive.”
Languidly writhing against him, Sedona indulged in his hard masculine frame. She let her arm have its way reaching back to hug his neck. Stroking her palm over his nape several times, she then kneaded the strong column with a leisurely sensuality.
“Wait till I get you on Cydonia.” His growl revved up her desire to the flight speed of his super-cycle.
“What is so erotically special about Mars?”
Arching against him, Sedona looped her arm around his neck, and hugged. The feel of his hands spanning her waist, and caressing, caused her to ache for more of their torrid-tangling passions, despite the previous wild night of lovemaking.
“Unique pleasures will be yours, my woman.”
Palming her breasts, he molded possessively, his hands sliding over the satiny, paper-thin fabric of her bodysuit.
“Volcano.” His name left her lips as a whisper, then became mere breath. Her head lolled back and Sedona lost herself to the molten scorch that owned her loins, then seized her sex.
Red light penetrated her eyelids. Sedona straightened fast, opening her eyes. A ruby brilliance had enveloped them.
“We’re here.” Volcano shaped her sides, her waist with his hands, the kind of seductive strokes that ignited her.
“Here?” Sedona caressed his hands, her love for him gushing from her as it always did. An arch formed before them like a magically conjured ice sculpture. Splinters of crimson light winked inside, a galaxy of them. Drinking in the enchantment, she paused, yet gave into her curiosity. “I mean I know we’ve landed on Mars. But where in Cydonia are we?”
“It’s a surprise. Think of this as our first official honeymoon, my angel woman.”
Volcano swept her upward, and into his embrace so swiftly, Sedona’s arms flew around his neck. Briefly his mouth savaged hers with a kiss that left her reeling, and, of course, only wanting more. So much more.
Once he carried her through the fantastical archway, melodies drifted around them like breezes. Delicate flights and fancies of music harmonized in an unusual way, sounding like the marriage of a flute and harp
“Ooooh... I feel like the music is on my skin... this is trippy ethereal.” Sedona reached out for the notes. “Butterflies... invisible wings brushing me. That’s what it feels like. Oh, Volcano.”
He spun with her, the movement of his body carefree, powerfully joyous. Sedona stretched her torso, then flung her arms out, surrendering. Melodies stroked her bare arms becoming like tiny ecstatic kisses.
“Saturday night fever on Mars, my dancing queen.” Volcano continued whirling her as if they disco-danced together, one of his favorite Earth date nights.
“My John Travolta on clouds,” she sang to him, once he halted and clasped her close.
Their gazes merged and held as she slid down his sculpted frame. Inside their own bubble of loveliest intimacy, they looked into each others’ eyes, their love flowing, shining, a relentless rapturous force that could never be anything but endless.
Moving in concert, they leaned closer touching noses. With the tenderest of caresses, they cherished each other. Until, finally, their lips gently met and they kissed, a long sensual fondling of each others’ lips.
After parting their mouths, Volcano speared his fingers into her hair cupping her head with his palm. “Did you know Mars is a tactile planetary culture?”
His smoldering rasp zinged straight to her sex mound causing a delicious throb. “Tactile?” she murmured, unable to catch her breath.
His fingers combed through her waist-length hair with a sensuality she found utterly luxurious. “Touch. Every sensation of touch is here, Sedona darling.”
“That turn-me-on voice of yours is doing a lot of touching, alright.” Like strings on a musical instrument, every molecule of her quivered, vibrated with passion. “You’re inside of me. And outside of me. Volcano... your voice...”
“Touch is especially amplified in Cydonia.” With a gallant move, he dipped her, as he did whenever they danced. Tantalizingly, his mouth hovered above hers as she remained draped over his arm. “You will remember the feel, the touch of everything we do here.”
She tightened her hold on his neck, basking in the feel of his “Oh, tell me more, great cherub one.”
Frowning because she’d naughtily teased him by calling him ‘great cherub one’, Volcano slid his palms down her back and gripped her ass. His hands tightened with a dominance that always excited Sedona.
Around them, a symphonic storm suddenly raged. The ruddy light flamed with an intensity that made Volcano look like her ancient-god lover. Within their depths, his dark purple eyes sparked blistering her with the power of his passion.
Sedona adored it. Seared to a fiercer need, her arousal soared. Lithe and liquid, she undulated against him pressing closer. “What you do to me... what I want you to do. Wherever we are, since you haven’t told me precisely where.”
“This is a temple, my woman. It was constructed using acoustic technology and the art of magic three thousand years ago.”
That floored her. Yet, within an instant, there was no floor. Waves of fiery crimson light held them suspended while sweetly scalding notes of music seemed to burn away their garments. In instants, they were naked.
Volcano embraced her as if they slow danced. “Sedona, my beloved, my beauty.”
Their bodies mated, skin against skin, her curves belonging to him. The illumination changed as they twined around each other. Bright scarlet luminosity held them like a gentle ocean and they floated. Immersed in one another, they joined souls, and embraced in that eternal way of all lovers.
Yet, not as carnal woman and man, even though the thick hot spear that was his cock nestled against her belly.
Rapture possessed Sedona, feeling new, as though she’d never experienced such heights before. Every particle of her felt kissed, cherished.
“I love you.” The words came easier now. She’d had such trouble saying them for so long, despite the depth of her heart for him. “I love you, Volcano.”
His smile answered her, a warm beam of ecstasy pouring inside her. A sea of gorgeous red illumination pulsed and flashed, reminding Sedona of Valentine’s day.
“Do you know, my angel woman, the human body remembers every touch, and remembers the feel of everything?”
“My body remembers the touch and feel of you. The slightest brush of your wings –“
Before she’d finished her words, Volcano captured her hips, his hold primitive. With a savage undulation of his torso, he thrust his brutally hard cock inside her welcoming sheath.
Like the mighty warrior he was, Volcano commanded her pleasures with each lunge. Indescribable sensations of bliss swirled through her. Sedona clenched his shaft tight and sank her nails into his shoulders. Her eyes remained open as blasts of scarlet light sang against her skin.
With each powerful strike of his cock, Volcano claimed her, body and soul. His bold taking of her ignited her primal fires beyond what Sedona had known. Wanting him with an impossible wildness, she drove her heels into his ass, giving him more access to her pussy.
Relentless, fierce as a raging thunderstorm, he repeatedly plunged to her core. Bolts of flaming ruby lashed her flesh. Music flowed over her skin, lush and forceful as buffeting winds. There was only the two of them. Their passion. Their intimacy with each other. Their world together.
An explosive ache seized her clit as Volcano continued launching his shaft upwards. Pleasure consumed her, red and ripe as cherries.
Volcano joined her, his cock buried deep. Their mutual orgasmic screams remained silent. Instead, orchestral notes thundered around them, mirroring the ecstasy of their climaxes.
Locked together as one, they entered the realm where time vanished. His rapture pummeled her magnificently, then entwined around the radiance of her bliss.
Back and forth, they sent their sacred essence to each other.
Melodic tones, both exalted and savage as jungle drums, embraced them, a reflection of their carnal union. Within the same moments, scarlet jewel-like facets formed, encircling them.
Sedona wrapped herself around her man. Aglow with their union, feeling soft as Volcano’s clouds, she merged her gaze with his. “Talk about an erupting volcano... Volcano.”
His answering smile glistened as it always did when she lovingly teased him. This time though, as he tightened his arms around her, a firestorm in shades of red ringed them.
“My woman. My mystic fire rose.”
Wild happiness bubbled through her. “You’re in my rose, cherub beast.”
“Always. Even when I am away from you.”
Her heart winged toward him. Her love, transformed to red rose light, swirled around him like ripples on a pond. “Yes, you live inside me. Always, my warrior.”
“Saving the heavenly universe, one world at a time.” His bantering tone teased her, even as his ruthlessly hard body pleased her. As quick, his countenance altered, his gaze becoming serious. “We, my Sedona, save the heavenly worlds.”
“Yes, we.” With her love singing from her soul, Sedona caressed her fingers through his dark mane of hair.
“Remember, my Sedona, our love here. Whenever I must leave for a time, remember.”
She watched his eyes turn powerfully luminous. His features were carved with a bronze resplendence that astounded her. “I will,” she whispered.
Volcano fused their lips in a kiss that might as well have been the beat of their hearts for each other. Once their mouths tenderly parted, the delicate feel of petals touched her skin as if she lay in a bed of roses.
Stunned by the sensation, Sedona glanced around. An immense, unbelievably exquisite red rose embraced them, the petals distinct, huge and glorious. She inhaled a fragile fragrance, yet the rose’s perfume held notes of sensuality and sweetness and passion.
“How?” she murmured.
“Our love is this rose. All we feel for each other created what occurred between us here, my precious woman. This is a Mars temple of marriage.”
Happily Ever After ~
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS
Winter Solstice, December 21, 2012 – The end of the Mayan Calendar
What happens when a world weary, worn out incarnated angel, Sedona, who believes she is merely human has three choices after her old van breaks down? Let the Nazerazzi squad of the North American Union capture her and force her into a FEMA concentration camp? Walk out into the Arizona night desert, let the wildlife have a good meal, with the hope her death will be quick? Or does Sedona trust the mysterious stranger suddenly before her? Handsome as sin and all in black, he emerges from the darkness astride a super-speed black motorcycle.
Is he her savior from the brutal hell of end times, or is he a roving cult member of the New World Order, hunting his next blood sacrifice?
Sent from heaven to help her save humanity, Zerr Dann knows the Divine is playing its last card on Earth.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Kisses are the most wonderful thing. My answer is, it can be. I've seen many of these movies and the scenes never fail to have me holding my breath and melting into a puddle.
I did a search for romantic videos and nearly all the came up revolved around kisses. Wow! I had no idea there was so much interest in kissing that people would make video after video revolving around it. It was fun to watch some of them.
But I chose this Hollywood video to share, because it depicts so many kissing scenes we're all familiar with. However, what I want to know is why wasn't the first kiss between Mary and George [It's A Wonderful Life] included. That scene is the ultimate. Sometimes the emotional waiting, the sensual and desperate need, the struggle of resistance is every bit as hot as the actual kiss.