By S.C. Dane (Guest Blogger)
Beyond romance? Nah. I’m smack dab in the middle of
it, quite by accident. Blithely, several years ago I began writing
the story taking shape in my convoluted brain and finished up with a
paranormal love story.
Did I know I was writing one? Not a
clue. I’d never even read paranormal romance, why would I think I
was writing a story for a genre I didn’t know existed? But, write
one I did, which meant plunging my eyes into every paranormal romance
book I could get my, ahem, paws on.
I started hunting my prey, intent on
sizing it up, learning its habits. What I found was a colony so vast
all my appetites were slaked, my curiosities calmed. Here was a place
where my weird eccentricities weren’t even a blip on the radar.
In fact, there were loads of writers
far more imaginative than I. What fun!
What a learning process. By the time I
wrote the second and third installments to Luna: Book One of The
Luna Chronicle, I’d learned a thing or two about my quarry. By
the time my fourth novel No Little Thing hit the virtual
shelves, I’d memorized my hunting grounds. Words became my weapons,
punctuation my fangs.
Marketing? The bane of this writer’s
existence. A necessary evil. Why can’t I simply hunt and hone my
craft, the better to provide my fans with more from our beloved
characters. I love being at the epicenter of romance. Where else can
a girl snuggle up with a living fur coat? Use her tongue for
something other than wagging?
Er, hoo-kay. Beyond Romance. Obviously,
I’m not and I’m loving it. My life before was so practical, so
predictable! I’m glad I shed the ordinary to prowl the unknown.
Come with me. No way will you regret it.
Blurb
Beth's
and Alec's love for one another ignites the power of the Luna that
courses through her veins, and she must learn the laws of being wild
wolf if she is to live with Alec and his pack. But they are not the
only wolf-people who covet the blood of Luna, and she must learn to
harness the consuming power of her Luna and use it to safeguard her
new family, even if it means giving up the very thing she was born to
protect. Set in the countryside of Maine, this novel unfolds as Beth
surrenders her body to its absolute essence while she is protected by
the loyal wolves she is destined to love. But their world is not only
precious, it is also perilous, and her freshened passion for life
just may be the catalyst for her death.
Excerpt from Luna,
Book One of The Luna Chronicle
That same evening,
we found a cozy place to bed down for the night at the edge of a
field, and lay on our backs to watch the stars blink on. Lightning
bugs bobbed around us, and a soft breeze rustled the tips of the tall
grass. I reached for Alec’s hand and clasped it. He returned my
grip.
Encouraged, I
crossed my foot over his bare leg and he slid himself under me, then
gently rolled us so that I was on my stomach while he braced himself
over my back.
He glided his tongue
down my spine and trailed his fingers down my thighs. He retraced his
path to my buttocks, circled his tongue round my nape and pressed his
sharpening teeth into the muscles at the base of my skull.
I gasped, spread my
thighs for him.
He peeled himself
away from me and his departure from my body was staggering. “Stay.”
He returned without
a word, and draped himself upon my back, pinching his teeth to the
soft skin at the juncture of my neck and collarbone. Droplets of his
sweat curled down my ribcage and dripped onto the crushed grass. His
pelvic bones lifted briefly, then pushed upon my buttocks as he
penetrated like a key through its slot, uniting us.
His hips rolled
methodically, deliberately, teasing until I whined and swiveled my
hips to quicken him. I felt him stiffen as he pumped harder, faster,
and fought to keep his body from shifting.
His growling was as
suppressed and urgent as his thrusting, filling me until I writhed
for release; the waves built and broke, slicking me so he slipped
back and drove deeper, over and over until he trembled rigidly, then
surged inside of me.
He collapsed across
my back, his heart thumping madly against my spine. He clasped my
hands in his, and tucked his face into the hair behind my ear. We
remained together on our bellies while we quieted, his weight and the
wooded scent of him constricting my heart, tightening my throat. For
me, as he'd done the last time we'd made love, he'd struggled to
remain human.
He softened and slid
out of me, and we coiled together to fall asleep beneath the
twinkling of the stars.
~S.C.
Dane
Author
of Paranormal Romance, who travels around the country on an American
version of a walkabout.
2 comments:
Hello, S.C.,
Welcome to Beyond Romance! I resonate with your post - sometimes we really have no idea what we're doing when we write. We're just following the muse, trusting and blind.
Good luck with the book and the series.
Indeed. And thanks for the opportunity to share my story.
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