Like a Virgin

By Pamela L. Todd (Guest Blogger)

Every first time is different. Some are spontaneous, most are well thought out with the details finely tuned. As my first time approached, I was skipping along with my head in a puff of pretty pink clouds, blissfully unaware of what was to come. Slowly it became very apparent that there was a heck of a lot I had naively overlooked.

The fear of the unknown overshadowed that delicious anticipation of the act itself. Like any first-timer, the maiden voyage can be an intimidating prospect. You have no idea what the other party might be thinking, what they expect of you…the actual, er, ‘mechanics’ of it all.

But let’s go back to the beginning. Before I even knew my first time was an actual possibility.

I had just finished my first full length erotic novel. It had been written, rewritten and rewritten some more. I finally felt like it was ready to submit. Then comes to hard part: synopsis and query letter. Writing a 90k+ novel, for me anyway, is a piece of cake compared to submissions. To make it easier, it really pays off to properly study just what the person you’re submitting to is looking for. Some want a very short synopsis, others more detailed. Some want to know the ending, others don’t. Squeezing my novel into 1-2 pages is a mammoth task but not an impossibility. What I find really difficult is the query, or covering, letter. Show personality. Don’t be nutty. Be unique. Don’t be mental. Compliment. Don’t kiss-ass. I usually end up writing more drafts of this letter than I do my entire novel.

But once your submission is sent off, that’s when the agonizing part begins: waiting. As soon as I click send I suddenly spot a hundred things I would change. Will they get that joke? What if they think I’m a nightmare? What if the book is rubbish? Why didn’t I mention this part in the synopsis? I basically drive myself nuts until I hear either way.

In this instance, I was put out of my misery fairly quickly. I heard back within a week and…they wanted my novel! Cue insanely happy dance.

The next few months were a blur of waiting and working, waiting and working. Initially, the publisher suggested some changes that would make the book stronger so to start with I had a few more rewrites. After that it went through the editing process.

I know some people who found this the challenging part of losing their publishing virginity. You pour your entire self into writing a book. It becomes your baby that you love and cherish. And here comes someone who doesn't like this sentence, doesn’t get why this part is necessary or thinks this bit could be chopped out. Some writers can get defensive and will pretty much refuse to change anything they deem important (which can be the whole thing). I really lucked out with my editor. She really got the story, loved the characters and totally got where I was coming from as a writer. I felt like she had my back during the entire process and every change suggested came from a purely simple place - making the book that much better. So for me, edits were fun. I looked forward to receiving the next batch as we went through the various rounds.

Then the edits are done, the book is complete. There are still a few months until the publication date. To keep busy, I started work on another project and mostly put the other book to the back of my mind, safe in the knowledge that pretty soon I would see it published.

But then I got an email that would eventually become a game changer for me. The publicity team from the publisher got in touch to discuss the PR for my book. Ooh, that sounds exciting! A blog tour! EMagazine features! Author interviews! USA Today! It all sounded unbelievable…all this for my little book. I’m not a hugely confident person. I like to hide behind my computer screen, creating new worlds and characters. Online I can be witty and outgoing. Real life? Not so much. Fake it till you make it and all that. Which was basically my game plan for all of the publicity. But then something was mentioned that really made me nervous. Facebook party.

I didn’t even know what a Facebook party would entail. But what I did know, was that I would struggle to keep it secret. On Twitter, I am a very open person. I talk about my life and my writing. On Facebook I am the complete opposite. I never talk about my writing and rarely share anything acutely personal. Facebook was where I knew real people - Twitter was for like-minded people and industry friends. I have a young son in primary school and I am friends with a few school mothers on Facebook and I couldn’t stand the thought of people I saw everyday finding out about the career I kept quiet.

There aren’t many people close to me who know about my writing. One or two close friends, my husband and a small handful of family members. The majority of people I know have absolutely no idea. And that was the way I liked it. Remember I said I wasn’t a confident person? This was why no one knew. I got it into my head people would take the mick, no one would understand and I’d be subjected to ridicule. I’d rather remain anonymous than risk ‘real’ people knowing that part of me.

I tried to find ways around the Facebook party - alternative profile, author page, anything to keep ‘me’ separate from it. But mostly, the whole thing gave me horrible anxiety that would keep me up at night.

Breaking point came when I was offered an amazing opportunity. I was put in touch with an outside PR firm to arrange press for me. And they wanted to talk to my local press. I live in a small place. Local press is the same as walking down the street naked - everyone knows about it. So what was my reaction to this amazing news? Flat out terror and actual sobbing - the kind that isn’t at all cute or feminine but more resembles a snot outburst. I called my husband, fully believing he’d know where I was coming from. Instead he asked ‘so, you don’t want your book to do well then?’ Because logically, I would be blowing a huge opportunity that could potentially gain me a lot of sales. I talked it over with a few very close friends who understood why I was so upset, but were extremely supportive. And mostly kicked my butt. The only person who didn’t believe in me, was me.

After a lot of back and forth, I decided to get proactive and rip off the plaster.

I came out on Facebook. I wrote out a long blog post explaining pretty much everything I’ve just written above. I talked about my writing. I talked about my insecurities. And then I posted the link to it on Facebook, along with the link to my book. And you know what happened? Nothing but good stuff. The outpouring of support was incredible, and really humbling. It took some getting used to, but I didn’t have to hide anymore. It actually felt quite liberating, and I was proud to show off this amazing book that I had created.

In the end I did set up a new profile page, dedicated to my writing. I write under a pen name, so I wanted readers (if they wanted to) to be able to find the author me and see book news etc. Also, that way I could attend my Facebook party as my author self. Most of ‘my’ Facebook friends have since become my author friends, so really it’s not much different anymore!

The party itself was incredible. I was so touched that four of my fellow authors came out to support me, and to join in the party themselves. It was a great night and I had a lot of fun. I was also contacted by the lovely owner of this blog, Lisabet Sarai, who offered me a spot to do a guest post. She and Ashe Barker, whose support has been incredible, agreed to do peer reviews. (Go here to read the one from Lisabet!) Other authors have friended me on Facebook and followed me on Twitter. It was brilliant to connect with other people who have been through this process themselves and I really felt like I was welcomed to the Totally Bound family with warm, open arms. I feel like part of something amazing. The girls within the publishing team were awesome. They were so patient and kind and helped to talk me down when things started to get stressful.

Losing my publishing virginity was an experience I’ll never forget. At times it was euphoric, others it was terrifying. But it was a journey I had to take to appreciate not only what I have accomplished, but how amazing all the people who have helped me along the way are. I’ve no idea if other virgins experienced such an emotional roller coaster…I’d like to think I’m not the only one who had panic attacks! But I am proud that I overcame the fear because what happened afterwards has made me not only a stronger writer, but a more confident person.

Next time around, I’ll be more experienced. And I’m sure I’ll learn a new move or two!

Blurb

Invisible. A ghost. No one sees her. No one knows her. Until him.

For the last seven years, Jo Carpenter has been a ghost in her own life. No friends. No permanent address. No long-term job. And that is exactly the way she wants it… Until a typing error lands her on Nate Harding’s doorstep in the city of Edinburgh, answering his ad for a roommate.

Nate and his luxury house are a different world for Jo. Tall, rugged and with a voice that seems hardwired to Jo’s sex drive, Nate is a distraction Jo can’t afford, but neither seems able to fight the growing tension between them. Nate’s touch brings Jo back to life and every encounter leaves her craving more. As they grow closer and intimacy creeps its way around them, Nate knows there are things Jo isn’t telling him. What he doesn’t realize is the less he knows about Jo and her past, the safer he is.

For years Jo has been careful—hasn’t let her guard down, got too comfortable or let anyone get close enough to see the person beneath her protective armor. Soon it isn’t just Nate that Jo has fallen for—it’s his whole family, from his adorable niece to his eccentric sister, Suze, who quickly becomes the best friend Jo has ever had. Against her better judgment, Jo let’s herself believe she can have a normal life. In Nate’s arms she forgets the things that haunt her, and the reasons she should leave that innocent family become all the reasons she can’t.

Excerpt

The front door opened and closed, Nate’s tall frame filling the doorway a moment later. My cunt tightened as I imagined his back arching as he thrust into that woman, the sheen of sweat on his skin and the feral look in his eyes when he caught me watching them.

Nate’s eyes flickered between me and Suze before settling on me, still brandishing the spoon. “Has she been naughty again? I keep telling her about this behaviour but she pays no notice.”

Suze rolled her eyes. “Ha ha. She was just about to give me that spoon, so bugger off.”

Nate came farther into the room. “What is that smell? Are you baking?”

“Muffins.”

He grinned. “I always knew my timing was perfect.”

Suze huffed. “And so is someone else’s. Come on, Tilly.” She picked up her daughter and we got the lovely smell of her nappy as they walked out of the room. “And don’t you dare touch that spoon!”

“What is it with you two and the spoon?” I asked, about to drop it back into the empty mixing bowl.

Nate caught my wrist and tugged me closer to him. My breath caught in my throat at the intensity in his eyes.

“Because licking the spoon is the best bit.”

“Suze told you not to touch it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

His smile widened. “And I’m not going to.” Nate dipped his head and took the spoon into his mouth, keeping his eyes on me the entire time. He pulled back and winked.

I was soaking wet. If I claimed his mouth right now, it would taste of chocolate. His tongue would sweep over mine and I would suck it harder into my mouth, devouring the taste of him.

Nate’s thumb pressed the pulse in my wrist and I knew he felt it speed up. His eyes were hooded and he leaned an inch closer. I dropped my gaze and instantly my sight was drawn to thick outline of his erection, straining against his jeans.

I opened my mouth to say something, though I’ve no idea what. Maybe to remind him of Suze’s proximity, but more likely to beg him to finally put me out of my misery.

He smiled and pressed his mouth to the shell of my ear. “Save that thought, okay?”

A shiver snaked up my spine and I wanted to sink into the warmth of his body.

Nate released his hold on my wrist and took a step back. “I’m going for a shower. Save me a muffin.”

I still hadn’t fully regained my senses when Suze brought a freshly changed Tilly back into the kitchen a few minutes later. Every day he was making me care less and less why this was a terrible idea.

About Pamela L. Todd

Pamela has adored books since she can remember. There was no greater pleasure than discovering a new world to venture into, a new character to fall in love with…until she created her own and realised there was something even more magical.

When she isn't locked away at her computer, or scribbling in a notebook, Pamela can be found as her alter ego—namely wife to Matthew and mother to Todd. They also share their home with a schizophrenic cat and two greedy goldfish.

@PamelaRoach  Twitter

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008466468506 Facebook

http://pamelaltodd.com/ website

Coming soon to iTunes, B&N, Kobo and more!

I just found out that Smashwords has approved my new book Slush for so-called "Premium Distribution". That means it will be available soon at iTunes, Kobo, Barnes and Noble and other fine ebook retailers and mobile libraries.

I'll post the links as I get them.

While I've got your attention - are you looking for more holiday reading?

I've got two short stories you can have for free. All you have to do is ask!

Just email me at lisabet [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com and tell me which one you want.

Last Minute Gift

M/M holiday romance by Lisabet Sarai

Silver Bells

M/F/M BDSM erotic romance by Lisabet Sarai

 

Happy Holidays!

Review: Darker by Ashe Barker

Darker by Ashe Barker
Total-E-Bound Publishing, 2013

Darker continues the saga of brilliant, emotionally fragile Eva Byrne and her demanding, dominant partner, Nathan Dark, which began in the first volume of this trilogy, Darkening. That book has an abrupt and shocking ending, as Eva loses consciousness while being caned by Nathan. In my review of Darkening, I objected rather strongly to that conclusion, for both narrative and – shall we say – humanitarian reasons. However, the abortive beating actually provides a promising beginning for book two, a bridge to foster communication and the revelation of secrets.

Nathan is appalled at what he’s done to Eva, but also furious that she didn’t use her safe word. Initially the misunderstanding threatens to tear them apart, but the connection between Eva and Nathan is too powerful to be destroyed even by such a traumatic event. He nurtures her, comforts her, and forces her to reveal her secrets. Their discussions lead to confessions and new accommodations. Nathan begins to realize that despite her devotion and her desire to please him, Eva is not a true submissive, like the other women he has dominated. Pain isn’t part of the equation. Eva enjoys his dark games, but only because of the mutual pleasure they engender. Indeed, she’s too strong an individual to ever be anyone’s slave. Nathan can see that – now he has to convince Eva that he really doesn’t mind, that he wants her, under pretty much any conditions.

Compared to Darkening, Darker is a quiet book, focusing squarely on the developing relationship between the two protagonists. Darkening begins with a car crash on stormy night. Not much happens in Darker, at least in the outside world, aside from a number of soul-searching conversations, plus many delightful and varied sexual couplings (including a searing scene where Nathan initiates Eva into anal sex),  In fact the time frame of Darkening is quite compressed. Most of the action occurs during a single weekend, when Eva and Nathan are on holiday in Leeds. As in the first book, Ms. Barker provides a strong sense of place. I’ve never been to Leeds – I’m not even sure where it is – but after reading this novel, I might well recognize the city.

Ms. Barker excels at expressing the nuances of a relationship. Her dialogue is one hundred percent convincing - her characters’ motives and behavior, too, at least for the most part. Darker gives the reader a chance to get to know both Eva and Nathan far more intimately than Darkening, where each to some extent was hiding behind a mask or playing a role. Darker is more raw, more honest – but also, perhaps, more satisfying because Nathan’s and Eva’s love for one another can no longer be passed off as simple sexual attraction.

Once again, the book ends with a bit of a cliff hanger, though a less disturbing incident than in Darkening. I was soothed by the inclusion of a preview chapter from the third book in the trilogy, which made it clear that the family accident would only bring Nathan and Eva closer to one another.

Obviously, I’m going to have to read Darkest, part three. I know the ending will be happy, but I’m curious to see what happens before that point.

The hardest part about writing is....

By Katherine Hayton (Guest Blogger)

The hardest part about writing is…

...whatever I’m working on right now. When I’m writing a first draft then that’s the hardest part about writing. After all, you haven’t gotten to grips with the characters yet; you don’t quite know how – or whether – the plot is going to work out; you don’t know if you’re going to be able to get into the flow of it and have everything come smoothly or whether you’re going to have to force every word out against its will.

When I’m in that stage everything afterwards seems so much easier. After all, with rewriting at least you have a good idea of what’s happening. Many of the questions you had at the start of the first draft have been answered, and you’ll already know which parts you’ll need to go back and spend some serious time on. So easy.

Until I get into the rewrite. Then it’s the hardest part of writing. Because now a whole lot of things have been set into stone. Find a problem here and not only will you be rewriting a scene from scratch, you may as well start over. And although you knew exactly how to fix things up while you were going through the first draft, you didn’t make notes and you can’t quite remember, or if you did make notes they don’t make sense, or they won’t work with the other eight changes you’ve had to make so far.

But that’s okay. After all, this is the hardest part. It’s to be expected that things won’t go smoothly. At least once this is in the bag you can get a manuscript assessment to make sure that things that are well out of place will be caught, and you may even get a few pointers at things you’ve completely failed to spot so far. The rewrite following an assessment is obviously going to be easier than the one you’re doing know when you’re relying solely on your own judgement.

Well the assessment came back. Very useful. Mostly complimentary. Apart from the changes you have to make to chapters four and sixteen because you hadn’t noticed that your week had nine days in it, and the action at the beginning has to take place on a Monday, and the end has to take place on a Sunday, and there are other key pointers that mean that you can’t quite work out how it’s all going to fit in, and it won’t make sense if you draw it out to a fortnight because then there’ll be too many opportunities to sit back and think about things and no one’s going to believe the characters aren’t going to take those opportunities and you’ve put all that work and effort in and it’s going to go to waste because forget about the rest of it this, this, THIS is the hardest part.

Blurb

Rena Sutherland wakes from a coma into a mother’s nightmare. Her daughter’s is missing – lost for four days – but no one has noticed; no one has complained; no one has been searching.

As the victim support officer assigned to her case, Christine Emmett puts aside her own problems as she tries to guide Rena through the maelstrom of her daughter’s disappearance.

A task made harder by an ex-husband desperate for control; a paedophile on early-release in the community; and a psychic who knows more than seems possible.

And intertwined throughout, the stories of six women; six daughters lost.

Excerpt

On the fifteenth of March 2007 I came home after a short day’s work, and Emma wasn’t there. Jacob was, but he was unconscious on the bed and from the smell of him he hadn’t got to that state accidentally.

There were the police asking endless questions. There was the media attention and my daughter’s photo pasted across the front page of a lot of newspapers. She didn’t look anything like those photos. She was living, breathing, full of motion and life and energy. She would snuggle in next to me on a weekend morning and run a length of my hair through her pudgy wee hands and exclaim in admiration ‘Mummy. You’re so pretty.’

I thought that not knowing was the worst thing I could ever endure. Not knowing if she was in trouble or needing my help or in pain. I worried that she’d been taken by someone that would hurt her, then I worried that she’d been taken by someone who would love her and care for her and in a year or two she’d have forgotten I ever existed. Not knowing was killing me.

But it turned out that knowing was far worse. When I went to the hospital to identify my beautiful girl’s broken body - that was worse than not knowing. When I buried her in the cemetery and compared the size of the gravesite to the other freshly buried bodies - that was worse than not knowing. When I drank myself to sleep on the anniversary of her sixth birthday, and realised that I would likely be doing that until my life ended - that was worse than not knowing.

Bio

Katherine Hayton is a 41 year old woman who works in insurance, doesn't have children or pets, can't drive, has lived in Christchurch her entire life, and currently resides two minutes’ walk from where she was born.

For some reason she's developed a rich fantasy life.

Buy her book and she'll be able to retire in luxury. Or in comfort. Or in just-scraping-by-but-at-least-I'm-not-in-the-office-24-7-ness.

Go on.

Buy Links

Kindle: http://amzn.com/B00LNUMCZ2

Paperback: http://amzn.com/0473279932

Author Links

Amazon Author Page: http://amazon.com/author/katherinehayton

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kathay1973

Blogger: http://kathay1973.blogspot.co.nz/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Katherine-Hayton/1481785105415848

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8390059.Katherine_Hayton

Website: http://kathay1973.com

You could win a $50 bookstore gift card! Use the Rafflecopter widget below to enter. 

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Visit all Katherine's blog stops and enter at each one, to increase your chances of winning. You'll find a different post at each stop.

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Sunday Snog #152: Slush

Well, I've finally done it. I've self-published a book! My new holiday short, Slush, is available now at Smashwords and Amazon and will hopefully hit other venues in the next few days.

Of course my snog has to come from this heartwarming story. Here's the blurb:

Hot shot Boston lawyer Ian Pierce has everything but peace of mind. Christmas Eve finds him alone, wading through the slush to his BMW so he can drive back to his lonely luxury apartment. Then everything goes black. He awakens with an aching skull to find himself in a freezing, boarded-up garage occupied by a street kid. At first he blames the dodgy-looking youth for his troubles, but before long he realizes the raggedy girl who rescued him from the gutter may well be a Christmas angel in disguise.

The tale draws heavily on my recollections of miserable New England winter weather, hence the title!

The book is available in all popular formats here:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/499356

And in Kindle format here:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QNMYV5O


After reading my kiss, head back to Victoria's Snog Central for more sexy snogs.

Here's the kiss. Enjoy.

****

He reached out, stroking her golden locks. He couldn’t help himself. Her hair was as silky as it looked. Daisy glanced up at him through the blond curtain, her smile returning.

“How’s your head?” she asked, the brightness in her voice almost believable.

“Much better.” He allowed his hand to drift to her shoulder and down her arm. She trembled when his fingertips brushed her bare skin. “Thanks to you.” He squeezed her tiny hand in his larger one. “You’re my Christmas angel, Daisy.”

He grasped her pointed little chin with his other hand to draw her closer. She didn’t resist. Now her face was mere inches away, her steel-gray eyes fixed on his. Her lips parted. Her breath came fast, in little sighing pants. He ached for that sweet, enticing mouth, an ache that drowned out the residual throbbing in his skull and even the swollen pulse of need in his groin.

He didn’t dare. He was afraid – afraid she’d pull away, afraid of screwing up something simple and perfect with his selfishness .

In the end, she made the first move, leaning toward him just enough to press her lips against his. That was enough. He released her hand to wrap his arms around her and clutch her to his chest, kissing her with a ferocity he couldn’t control. He needed this so badly – the warmth, the softness the illusion that someone cared...

Daisy returned his kiss with equal desperation. She opened to him without any prodding, sucking his tongue into her mouth to tangle with her own. Her fingernails scored his back even through the undershirt as she tried to pull him closer. She plunged her tongue into his mouth, nipped at the corner of his cold-chapped lips, moaned and writhed in his arms when he slid away to nuzzle the hollow under her ear.

“Ian...please...” All at once she broke their embrace. With one fluid movement, she dragged her tee shirt over her head, baring modest but flawless breasts topped with cranberry-red nipples. She didn’t say anything further, just held his gaze as she hiked up her buttocks and rolled the knit long-johns down over her creamy thighs. A gust of female musk rose from the blond tangle hiding her pussy, masking the scents of charred wood, diesel and rot.

In two breaths, Ian’s half-erect penis swelled to full hardness. Daisy lay back on the blanket with her knees raised and her moist sex open to his view, tempting him. He yearned to launch his body onto hers, to mash those luscious little tits against his chest and drive his cock into the hot, wet cleft that exuded such a heavenly fragrance. Something held him back, though. I don’t deserve her, he thought. She’s too young, too strong, too good... too good for a nasty, angry son of a bitch like me.

Get your copy today!

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/499356

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QNMYV5O