Showing posts with label Shari Elder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shari Elder. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

How to Feed Captive Shifters (@ShariElderBooks #shifter #romance #food)

Unnatural Allies cover

By Shari Elder (Guest Blogger)

Have you ever walked into a restaurant, in a house, or just down the street when a smell tickles your nose, your stomach grumbles louder than a rock band, and your mind fixates on food? When there’s not a granola bar or several sticks of gum nearby to calm the cravings, do you design ever more elaborate meals to feed those hungers?

In my latest paranormal romance, Unnatural Allies (Shifting Alliances #2), Nicca, my wolf shifter is held captive by a insane fae woman, who casts a spell that prevents her from shifting. Trapped in human form, worried and hungry, she goes a little crazy with the meal planning. I didn’t mean to write this part in, but it took over my brain, and gave me immense pleasure to put it to the page. Since food is another sensual pleasure, I thought it would be fun to share what Nicca created. They are all so scrumptious and provide ready-made meal plans the next time you invite a shifter for dinner.

  • Salmon with potatoes roasted with rosemary and green beans sautéed in garlic butter.
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  • Ribs slathered in Texas barbecue, on top of cheese-crusted mash potatoes followed by mango-raspberry swirled mousse with a wafer as spoon or a wedge of lemon meringue pie with a mint leaf for garnish, ending with cappuccino spiked with Kahlua or amaretto.
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  • Oatmeal raisin cookies with carrot and chocolate chips and a big glass of milk or hazelnut coffee with cream
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  • A grilled cheese sandwich with Portobello mushrooms, green onion and tomato with a side of horseradish coleslaw followed by vanilla-iced gingerbread and a peppermint tea chaser.

Once I started down this track in the story, I couldn’t stop the ideas from flowing. That’s a bit how the book itself came to be. I had written Shifter Trials (Book #1 Shifting Alliances) as a stand-alone story. Nicca and the hero, Evan, were secondary characters. Once I started with them, I couldn’t stop. I’m happy to introduce Unnatural Allies, a love story between a rat alpha and a wolf beta and food is actually a problem. Thanks for dropping by.

Blurb

A World in Transition

Violent fae encroachment on shifter land is heating up. With death tolls rising, the impossible becomes necessary – an alliance among predator and prey shifters.

An Inconceivable Love

Nicca Baron, lone wolf and wolf clan beta, finds herself under the command of Evan Grant, the rat alpha. In different circumstances, he’d be dinner. Or so her wolf keeps reminding her. Evan proves to be a perceptive leader, a skilled fighter and irresistible to her lonely heart.

To rule the rats, you have to rule the pack. Evan is a whiz at managing people and groups. Until he finds himself leading a mission made up of every single large animal that thrives on rat flesh. And not the kind between his legs. The only bright light is Nicca. Her storm gray eyes miss nothing, her brilliant mind comprehends everything and her succulent curves offer the perfect place for a rat to nestle.

An Impossible Future

In each other’s arms, Nicca and Evan discover love and a new perspective in an off-kilter world. But a wolf cannot mate with a rat, no matter the strength of the human attraction.

Buy Links



Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/unnatural-allies-mf

Excerpt

Evan had never seen Nicca look frightened before. Those silver eyes expanded into saucers, and they were still beautiful. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, just hold her close as they both tried to process a world spinning out of control. Even his rat wanted to comfort her.

She was getting under skin and fur.

The last leaves hung limp on the branches, resisting winter’s pull. Away from the sidhe, the air had warmed, although the sky retained a grayish winter hue. Shifter bodies held heat, keeping them comfortable in the most brutal frost. Evan burned hot from continuous movement, the too frequent adrenaline spikes, and Nicca’s nearness. Everything about her fit, like she was made for him. That agile mind, open-mindedness, those lush curves. Hell, she even spouted poetry. He yearned to put a sign around her neck—no trespassing, this woman belongs to Evan Grant.

Except for that whole wolf thing…

Why don’t we find a comfortable place to set up camp near Fairy Falls and call it a day?” he said to get his mind back to practical things, not wishing for something he couldn’t have. He told himself he selected the location as part of the mission. All species declared the pristine, wild falls a safe zone, so they wouldn’t need the wolves or eagles to stand guard. The fact that it was the number one rated site for shifter romances had nothing to do with the selection. Nothing at all.

No one would ever accuse Nicca of talking too much, but she was withdrawn even for her on the hike to the Falls. “Any suggestions on places to sleep?” he asked when her silence got too loud for him.

I’ve, uh, never really been here,” she whispered, looking at the ground. “Just run by it on patrols sometimes.”

And that makes you sad?” He itched to run his hand down her cheek.

This mission makes me sad.” Her gaze stayed lowered as she walked.

His rat senses perceived a deep despondency wrapped around her like a black aura.

This mission makes you angry, anxious, and confused. Not sad.”

Who are you to correct my assessment of my emotional state?” She gave him a half-hearted snarl. He figured he’d hit an open, raw nerve.

I lead this mission, and I will not have you fall apart on me. Right now, you are not okay.” He opened his arm, aping Rafe’s earlier action, inviting her to him to take comfort. “Let me help.” Let me touch you.

She visibly shook herself, ignoring his outstretched limb. “You’re right. I need space. Let me run as wolf.”

He dropped his hand, then nodded to cover the ripping sound his heart was making. “Stay close,” he said over the lump of disappointment lodged in his throat. “Give me your backpack, and I’ll find a place to sleep. Meet me at the falls when you’re done.”

Relief brightened her eyes. Once shifted, she brushed against his leg, then licked at his hand dangling by his side. He ran his fingers through her thick, gray fur touched with black and silver as she trotted off. “Grab some happy, Nicca,” he said into the air, as she raced out of sight. Come back to me. Accept me.

Alone, he hummed as he walked toward the falls. The low tune soothed his skittish rat, who hated being alone and wasn’t too fond of the woods. Rats felt secure in the pack. The human in him appreciated the red gold of the sunset streaking across the powder blue of the sky, weaving in and out of spiky, hunter green firs that ate up the landscape. Beauty truly did soothe an aching heart. The whirr of winter birds, a chorus to his ears, unnerved the rat. He picked up his pace, following the smell of ice and the roar of the falling water.

When he arrived at the falls, he saw Nicca standing at the edge of the descending water, running her fingers through the stream. That sadness he’d sensed earlier scented the air and dulled those unique gray eyes. Following a powerful intuition, he approached quietly, staying upwind so she wouldn’t notice until he stood directly behind her. She may have rejected his offer of support earlier, but he was determined to try again. His way.

She turned to face him, and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. He pushed behind one ear a lock of hair that was draped along her cheek. The tresses felt like silk, the skin velvet against his fingertips.

Evan?”

He leaned over, touching lips to lips ever so gently. Giving comfort. Sneaking a taste. Exploring what might be. She pressed back, her mouth opening slightly beneath his. He sank into cherry and cinnamon, shyness and heat. She didn’t require a friend; she needed a lover. He desperately wanted to be that man.

He pulled back, falling hard for the blush staining her cheeks a bright pink.

Follow me,” he said, taking her hand, and led her to the camping spot he noticed along the way.

To love a wolf.

About Shari

Hello, I'm Shari. By day, I crawl out of bed, mainline coffee, walk the dog, get my kid off to school, hop on the metro, and save cities within the four walls of my office. Usually by email.

At night, the other Shari emerges. I take off the suit, curl up on the couch and let my imagination play, with words and images until stories take shape (while periodically checking on my teen-ager, hiding out in the bedroom and plotting world domination with her furry minions).  As my alter ego, I save cities in a cape and spangled tights, wander space and time on a surfboard, fly over the Himalayas on feathered wings, make six-toed footprints in indigo talc snow on the sixth planet in the Andromeda galaxy or eavesdrop on Olympian gods while pretending to whip up a bowl of ambrosia.

In all these wondrous worlds, romance and passion blossom. I can't resist a happy ending. And I am particularly prone to writing happy endings for those who have given up on ever getting one. That gives me immense satisfaction. 

Join me on my journey. The best ideas emerge from team work.

Hang out with Shari on the Web





Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Oops. Did I really write that? (@ShariElderBooks #scifi #eroticromance #amwriting )


Race to Redemption cover

By Shari Elder (Guest Blogger)

Thanks for welcoming me to your blog, Lisabet. I write paranormal and science fiction romance because I enjoy building new worlds, almost as much as I love writing the love story. The logical structure, rules and culture of the society run in parallel to the romance arc. Both must make sense. At the broad outline level, this is not too hard to balance. But when the writer drills into the details, it can get tricky sometimes.

Using deleted snippets from latest release, I thought it would be fun to share what happens when a writer gets that wrong. It’s a small example, but a telling one.

Race to Redemption takes place on a desert world. The sand retains minerals and biogenetic materials that allow the inhabitants, who are nomadic, to build and take them down their homes quickly. Like sand igloos. The land is also subject to frequent and often severe dust storms, so the indigenous populations connect their houses to each other with sand corridors, which also link their living quarters to communal places –bath, prayer hall, governance circle and supply hut.

In the first draft, I put doors with locks on these homes. Which allowed for a fun exchange between my hero and heroine.


Erik knocked again when no one came to the door, then a third time.

I can pick the lock.” 
 
Any other skills of yours I should know about that could land us in prison somewhere?”

She gave him a shrug. “Basic Zoner survival skills—better to pick a lock then be left outside in a storm.”


A later scene referenced this snippet.


Erik always had a pocketknife with him. He used it to pick the lock.

“Well, well, it looks like I’m not the only with breaking an entry on my resume.”

The smile he gave her melted every bone in her body. If it wasn’t so sweltering …


Doors and locks in a sand igloo? Among people who bath together and pool supplies? Did I really write that?

I did, and I resisted changing it. I loved these short snippets. They revealed a common hidden talent and disregard for convention my hero and heroine shared and showed their bond evolving. I didn’t want to lose them.

Sometimes you have to kill your darlings, as they say. Reluctantly, I deleted or rewrote a few scenes, removing doors, locks, and Elaina’s lock picking. Here’s the final result.


That’s definitely something.” Erik knelt to her right and used his pocket knife to lever it out of the ground, then pick the lock.

So, I’m not the only one with illicit skills on my résumé.”
 
The smile he flashed liquefied every bone in her body. If it wasn’t sweltering…


Thanks for stopping by and letting me share a segment of my writing journey. It’s my pleasure to invite you to visit my world—with sand igloos, defiant protagonists, alien sex toys, complex villains, intergalactic race championships and a rebellion simmering underneath it all.


Race to Redemption Blurb

A woman who lost everything

Intergalactic storm racing champion Elaina Carteret had it all – fame, wealth, men – until a horrific accident took it away. To get it back, she agrees to pose as Lainie Carter, medical transport pilot and corporate spy. Her risk-taking attitude infuriates Dr. Erik Johansen, who runs the outpost with an iron hand, a permanent scowl and the tightest bod on the planet.

A man desperate for redemption.

Unable to forgive himself for a past tragedy, Erik works himself into an early grave. He has no patience for the insubordinate Lainie Carter, who can’t take an order, disrupts routine and flames his body to ash.

A planet at risk.

When the outpost is attached, they’re thrown together in a race across the desert to stop a deadly biogenetic weapon As a fragile trust blossoms between two damaged hearts, their pasts resurface and threaten their growing bond.

Be warned: Erotic romance, level five heat designation, gender neutral characters.



Excerpt

Erik tilted his head. Speech didn’t seem to be in him. She followed him to the bathing room at the back of the building. The small lump in the bath couldn’t be Sen. Whatever it was had gill-slits and grayish-green skin, no remaining golden hue of the Ranharran air breathers. No, definitely not Sen.

I don’t understand.”

Biogenetic tampering that forced his DNA to rewrite itself into Den Vedran but it was only partial. His gills are not fully formed, but the Ranharran lungs collapsed. I believe the Den Vedran lungs would have grown over them but not in time. The changes left him unable to take in oxygen from any source.”

She couldn’t get her head around what Erik was saying. Every cell in her body froze into numbness. Her blood stopped flowing. That just couldn’t be Sen.

We should return him to the dust. Sen had a soft spot for Ranharran ceremonies.” How she coughed up those words she’d never know, but it was what Sen would want. If that lump were Sen, which it wasn’t.

Erik shook his head. “He’s not dead. I injected him with a stasis drug. It only lasts about two months. I’ll need to do so some tests on him.” His low growl told her the idea appalled him as much as it did her. She swallowed back an instinctive retort. He didn’t need her crap on top of the pile he already carried.

For Qirta,” she said instead.

Gratitude flickered in those ancient eyes. She took his hand and leaned her head against his shoulder, desperate for touch. He let her without balking. A heart did beat underneath Erik’s scowl.

They stood together without moving for what seemed like a century. Fintarl brought in an air gurney at some point to move the body that wasn’t Sen to the lab. Everyone in the camp stumbled like the walking dead to get through the next hours. Ranharrans did not have tear ducts because their bodies were built to retain every ounce of water. They hummed in grief and the camp was awash in a low, melancholy drone.


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About Shari

I'm Shari. By day, I crawl out of bed, mainline coffee, get my kid off to school, walk the dog, then save cities within the four walls of my office. Usually by email.

At night, I take off the suit, curl up with my computer and save cities on a jet-powered skateboard, make six-toed footprints on the sixth planet in the Andromeda galaxy and bring men and women, who had given up on romance, another chance to find it.

Join me on this journey.


Find Shari