The Anti-Hero Hero

By Beth D. Carter (Guest Blogger)

I grew up in the 80’s, when Harlequin Presents and Zebra Historicals ruled the shelves. Each story had some type of strong female struggling with an almost insurmountable obstacle guided by the rugged but steadfast, noble hero-no matter if he was a corporate cutthroat, a pirate or a desperado. If there was one thing you could rely on, it was the fact that the hero never gave up on the heroine, never betrayed, and never, ever, cheated. Those heroes made anyone believe that somewhere, out there, was a good man waiting for the love of his life to show up.

Call me crazy, but I always loved the bad boy, the not-quite-sterling-hero. My first crush was a cartoon character named Jason from Battle of the Planet, a Japanese animation brought over to the US in the late 70’s, early 80’s. And there was Han Solo, of course. Forget Luke. I would even root for some of the secondary characters in books, like Ramsey O’Keefe in Amy J. Fetzer’s My Timeswept Heart (of course, he got his own book in the sequel, but he just wasn’t the same).

Stories now-a-days…well, they’ve changed a little. Female characters are stronger, more independent. Taboo subjects like rape and drug use are explored. And, too, the Bad Boy has changed a little. Now he’s darker. Sexier. Sometimes he’s a billionaire playboy, sometimes he rides a Harley. Whatever incarnation he is, he’s able to turn panties into a wet sponge with just a sardonic lift of his lips. He does very naughty things and we love him for it because underneath that tough exterior we know, as readers, there lurks a heart of gold.

For every bad boy there needs to be a woman (or man) who balances him out. There has to be something that draws him to her, something that he’s missing inside himself but recognizes in her. She becomes a flame and like any moth, he can’t resist her. It’s how I write many of my heroines, whether she’s sassy or shy or innocent. I look at the hero first and see his flaws, because flaws make characters real. Flaws makes us care about the bad boy.

Writing a bad boy is a delicate balance of keeping that heart of gold while at the same time having him make terrible choices. I want my reader to want to reach into the book and shake him silly. In Dreamland, Dicen Burke is one such character. He’s a rock star that crashes down to Earth when he overdoses. While in a coma, he travels to 1927 and meets Juliet, who makes him realize that he has to confront his demons. Luckily, he wises up without losing what made him so appealing to begin with. If the readers love him and hate him (at times), well then, I’ve done my job.

Blurb

Dicen Burke had it all. As lead singer in the world famous rock band, Dark Army, the world lay at his feet. But the path to super stardom warred with a painful past and during a performance the demons haunting him finally descended. Unable to stop the self destructive path of alcohol and drugs, when he fell, he fell hard.

He wakes up in a world he doesn’t know. The Twenty-first century rocker is now in the 1920’s, lost and bewildered. He’s taken in by Juliet Fox, a beautiful woman trying to be a positive influence in her brother’s wild lifestyle among the Hollywood Motion Picture elite.

Dicen does his best to adapt, and with Juliet by his side, he discovers a world that offers him a clean slate. But when he’s pulled back to the present, separated by time from the one person that gives him a reason to live, will he find a way to push past his demons as well as find Juliet again?

Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/dreamland

Watch the trailer:
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahvHfXkmOsQ

Excerpt

 

“Damn, a garter belt,” he said. “That’s so fucking hot.”

When Juliet was finally naked he took a moment to look at her. She was gorgeous. Her body didn’t have the stick-thin malnourished look that so many women in his day favored, thinking men liked to fuck skin and bones. Although she was naturally slender, she was soft and round in all the places a woman should be round. Real breasts. Man, he loved real breasts. And an ass he could grab and hold onto as he rode her.

Dicen worked his way down her body, taking a moment to lick her belly button. As he continued his downward path, he bypassed the apex of her thighs, where he could smell her musk beckoning him. God, he wanted nothing more than to sink his steel-hard cock into her wet cunt and pump her until they both splintered apart. But whatever sanity he had left knocked on his shoulder and raised a red flag. 

Did he have the right to do this in her own bed, under her brother’s roof?

Did he have the right to do this when his own situation was so fucked up?

“Baby,” he said.

She looked at him with liquid eyes.

“Are you a virgin?”

She bit her lip and just like that he knew the answer without her saying a word.

“Fuck,” he sighed. 

“I…I don’t want you to stop,” she told him quietly.

“I have no right, lying here with you like this.” He may have said the words but it didn’t make his body move. Hell, he didn’t know if he could move. His higher brain functions must have fled because even after knowing she was still a virgin, all he wanted to do was claim her.

Possess her.

No other man had known her and he damn sure didn’t want some other asshole sniffing around thinking she was free. Because she wasn’t. She was his, and suddenly, it all became crystal clear. He’d been sent here for her, for no other reason than to find the something that would heal his soul. 

To find her.

So he was going to make damn sure this experience was going to be good for her. From now on, it was all about her pleasure and the orgasms he was going to give her. He shifted his body until he was kneeling on the floor and he had pulled her body to the edge. 

“Open for me, sweetheart,” he murmured enticingly.

Exerting a little pressure, she slowly relaxed and let her legs open. He got his first glimpse of her pretty pussy, all plump and swollen with her desire. Moisture glistened around the curls covering the hood. He ran a finger gently through them, barely brushing against her slit, and a moan erupted from her lips. 

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he murmured. Then he kissed her, right on the spot he’d just touched, and her hips jerked up, bumping against him. 

“Dicen,” she breathed. “Oh, Dicen.”

“You taste so damn sweet, baby.”

He pressed his tongue against her again, as far as it would stretch, dipping a little into the slit. She moaned again and the little sound took him over the edge. He had to fully taste her now. 

“I’m going to stick my tongue in you now,” he told her. “I want you to come so I can lap up your cream. Let yourself go, baby, as many times as you can.”

Using two fingers, he spread her until he found her clitoris, and then proceeded to lick her. As soon as his tongue rasped against her sensitive nub, her body arched like it had touched a live wire. Her hands buried in his hair, pulling it almost too aggressively. But he loved it. It gave everything an edge that pumped through his blood, lighting him on fire. He licked and sucked her in, sliding one finger into her heat. She bucked against his hand.

“Dicen!” she cried.

“Fuck, you taste like honey,” he moaned, blowing against her weeping core and causing her to shiver. “So good. I could eat you every night.” 

He pushed another finger inside and took her little clit between his teeth, sucking hard.

“Dicen, please!” she begged. “I need…”

“I know what you need, baby. I want to give it to you. Let go, Juliet. Come for me. Give me your cream.”

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I would love to give away a PDF version of Dreamland! Please just leave a comment and I’ll have my lovely assistant (AKA: son) draw a winner. So please leave a way to contact you! Thanks so much to Lisabet for hosting me today!

Ab

About Me

I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors or corporate highrollers.  I try to write characters who aren't cookie
cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box.  I love writing characters who are real, complex and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love.

I've been pretty fortunate in life to experience some amazing things. I've lived in France, traveled throughout Europe, Australia and New Zealand.  I am a mom to an amazing little boy.  I live in Los Angeles, surrounded by friends and family.  I hate washing dishes but I love cooking. I hate washing clothes but I love wearing them. Writing my bio is difficult because I never know what to say so I hope you like this one.
 
My favorite color is red but I look best in black (it's slimming).  I hate people who don't pick up their dog's crap in public places, people who don't use turn signals, and I really hate people who are rude and condescending. I especially hate discrimination in all and every form.  And although I love holding a book in my hand, I absolutely adore my ereader, whom I've named Ruby.  I love to hear from readers so I've made it really easy to find me on Twitter: 

@BethDCarter  or Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/bethdcarterauthor
Or email me beth [at] bethdcarter.com

www.bethdcarter.com

http://bethdcarter.blogspot.com/

The Lovable Rogue

By Celeste Rupert (Guest Blogger)

There is just something about a bad boy. 

It’s the reason for poems about highwaymen, books about pirates, movies about hitmen and spies and assassins. The scoundrel with the heart of gold has always captured our imaginations. There’s a list of famous villains a mile long, from popular culture and from history.

I do love an outlaw. A gentleman bandit, ruthless and charming.

I grew up reading my grandpa’s Louis L’amour novels, and today I have an extensive collection of my own, only partially “borrowed” from Grandpa’s bookshelves.

He aims to misbehave

LouisL’amour’s stories tell of a West where there wasn’t “good” and “bad”, but simply people, doing what was right for them. His West was filled with strong men and women, living in a mostly lawless land, and guided only by their own sense of right and wrong as they struggled to survive. His characters might have rustled a few cattle, or otherwise dabbled on the wrong side of the law, but they had a strong moralcompass. 

The man who robbed the town bank might be the same man who fought for a woman’s honour, or left food for a family that needed it. Some of the West’s most celebrated lawmen had checkered histories, but in the frontier a man was judged by his actions, not his past.

My first erotic romance,Outlaw Rose, not only features an anti-hero in Tucker, the bank robber who makes off with the gold, but an anti-heroine in Rose.

Rose isn’t as straightforward in her thievery as Tucker and his band of rapscallions, but that doesn’t mean that her intentions were any more honourable. She’s using her strengths – smarts and sexuality – to get what she wants, and she’s not afraid to have a little fun along the way. 

When these two lawbreakers get together, sparks fly in every direction.

Check out the excerpt below, and leave a comment (with your email address) telling me who your favorite lovable rogue is! You can probably guess who mine is. ;-) I’ll chose one commenter at random to win a .pdf copy of Outlaw Rose.

A branch cracked. Rose crouched down in the shadow of a nearby bush and hoped her dark dress and the overcast night would be enough to hide her from view. The footsteps grew nearer and she held her breath. Her heart pounded so loud in her ears that she was afraid it would lead him straight to her. She tried to calm down.

It was quiet. She strained her ears for any sign he was coming closer. The silence pressed in on her as she squinted through the darkness, searching for movement. There was nothing but the faint rustle of nearby leaves in the night breeze. She breathed out a sigh.

He was gone.

She sensed the movement a split second before she felt the hand close over her arm. She fought with all her strength, jerking backwards to try to break his grip, until the loud, metallic click of a hammer being drawn back echoed through the night. She froze.

"That’s better." His voice was a low growl and she felt the steel barrel of his pistol against her cheek. He lifted her to her toes, bringing his face down close to hers. She could smell the coffee on his breath, then his face was close enough to see clearly. His strong jaw and full lips had been hidden by the mask the day before, but she remembered his eyes, which registered surprise as he recognised her. "You! You’re that little snip of a bank teller." He pressed the gun harder into the soft skin of her face. "What the hell are you doing sneaking around our camp?"

"I followed you."

"Why?"

"The posse took off to the south, thinking you’d head for Mexico. I…" She hesitated, until the pistol jerked again. "I took a chance."

"Stupid of you. I can’t let you go now, or you’ll just run to the sheriff." He twisted, and she realised he was looking around him. "I don’t like killing women, but you’ve put me in a bad spot."

"No!" Her heart pounded in her ears.

"No?" He leaned over her menacingly. "Do you have another suggestion? We’ve made plans for that gold, and I don’t plan to let some pretty little bank teller get me hanged before I get around to spending it."

"If you’ll let me live…" Her voice trailed off.

He gave her a shake, bouncing her off his broad chest, his hand like steel on her arm.

"I’ll make it worth your while."

He froze and she collided with him again. "What?" he said.

She relaxed against him, trailing a trembling hand across his chest. She heard him suck in his breath, then jumped when his hand covered hers, holding it still.

You can buy Outlaw Rose here: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=2010

Author Bio

Celeste Rupert lives and writes in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. Her fascination with the Old West results in stories set in the rough and tumble world of the frontier, full of cowboys and outlaws and women who know exactly what they want and aren’t afraid to go get it.

Http://www.celesterupert.wordpress.com

Looking for the Good in Bad

By Elizabeth Lapthorne (Guest Blogger)

When Lisabet so kindly offered me a spot in her blog I was bombarded with all the different things I could discuss here. Ideas are usually not a problem for me – it’s the reining in of them and putting them into coherent order.  Something that really struck me on a number of levels, however, was the idea of how frequently we as authors and readers search for the good stuff in bad things.

I love to read about how a heroine’s bad boy that she grew up with can turn around and help fix a situation when she gets back in touch with him. You know the kind of man I mean, the naughty guy who was the first to ride his motorcycle, who kissed you behind that large tree in the park when your friends and parents weren’t watching and maybe even stole a quick touch of your breast while he was at it.

It’s not just writing these stories that I love, but I read them as well, over and over again. There’s something so wonderful, hopeful and satisfying in knowing that even in abject darkness, when everything seems lost there can still be good in there. Whether it be finding lasting love, discovering the goodness inside a person you thought beyond help or just working hard with others to right the wrong in your circumstances.

I think so much of reading regardless of genre, style or author has this within it in some form.

My releases usually are no exception. Whether I’m writing about the fantasy of the student seducing the teacher (Wicked Teacher), retrieving stolen artifacts in Chicago while a magical hit team are trying to track you down (Retrieving Love) or about having that one person you can turn to and trust when Bad Guys are trying to kill you and chase you around London and have kidnapped your father (Flirting with Danger), almost always one part of the story is in making bad situations good again.

My newest release from TEB, Flirting with Danger, is a classic example. Skye Adams is a regular London girl, waiting in a Thai restaurant for her father to celebrate her birthday. Gunmen show up to kidnap and kill her and her day goes seriously downhill from there. Being able to turn to Jack Berick is her only consolation, a man her father informed her was trustworthy and someone she could rely on.

The Agency is a new series I’m beginning at TEB and it’s full of adventure and thrilling characters. I’m delighted to share this excerpt with you and hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Unedited Extract from Flirting With Danger – Elizabeth Lapthorne

Swallowing more of the tea, she replaced the mug on the coffee table with a small sigh, her stomach sated. She turned to face Jack and once again her heart fluttered in her chest.

 

He was so handsome.

“I’m not a lost schoolgirl who needs returning to her parent,” Skye chided him. “But I would definitely like to stick close to you. At least until the vision of that rocket launcher and those four men dims somewhat in my memory. Right now it’s far too vivid for comfort.”

“Hey,” Jack said softly. He leant forward and rested one large, warm hand on her thigh. Heat from his skin soaked through her leg. Skye caught her breath, her gaze lifting to catch his.

 

Chemistry burned between them as they stared at each other in silence.

 

Skye lowered her hand to lace her fingers through his, testing the waters between them. His fingers clenched hers, his grip tight but not painful. For a suspended moment she felt as if they were hovering on the brink of an enormous, sheer drop. They leaned in and their lips touched.

 

The world ignited, her ears rang and Skye felt as if she had just been electrocuted.

 

Tingles shot across her body and without even realising it, she scooted closer to him. Jack moved forward and soon she straddled him, eating at his mouth with her lips as they strained against each other. She ran her hands over his shoulders then down his back, loving the warmth of his body even through his shirt.

 

He threaded his fingers through her short curls, his palm cupping the back of her skull. He wound a strand around his digit, his touch tender, as if he wanted to memorise its texture. She stared into his fiery gaze, ensnared in its depths. Need washed over her as her pussy flooded with moisture.

 

Rocking into him, Skye rubbed her spread centre over his jean-clad erection. Even through the thin denim she could feel his searing heat, the hard, thick length of him straining as if to reach out to her in kind. Their tongues tangled and it took a moment for her to hear their joined gasps as they both struggled for breath.

“This is just a reaction to how close to death you came earlier,” Jack finally managed to pant as he pulled his mouth from hers.

 

Her cheeks flushed and Skye could only shake her head at him.

“Trust me, darling, I don’t want to take advantage of the scare you’ve had. It’s understandable—”

“Can’t you feel the attraction between us?” Skye cut him off. “It’s electric and potent. It wouldn’t matter if I’d met you at the bus stop, Jack. I want you and I need this. Please don’t deny me.”

“I must be mad,” he muttered. Regardless of his words, he cupped her jaw and dragged her closer to him. Wrapped in his warm embrace, Skye gave herself up to the soul-searing kiss they exchanged. She tasted him, his spicy scent enveloping her. Her hands fell to the waistband of his jeans and she struggled to unsnap them and drag them down his legs, realising it was impossible while they were both sitting.

“Not on the couch, dammit,” he groaned as he raised his head again. “If we’re doing this we’re bloody well going to do it right.”

Bio: Elizabeth Lapthorne has been writing professionally since 2002. She has a number of books released and is continually surprised by how much fun she has starting a new book and discovering new characters and situations that they put themselves in. She enjoys going to the gym (usually to chew over her latest problem scene), is rarely without a partially read book and has a weakness for chocolate.

Elizabeth loves to hear from her fans and checks her email religiously. You can email her at elapthorne999 [at] hotmail.com, or check out her website with free extracts of all her current works at: http://elapthorne.mmebj.com/index.html