On this day in history:
1789: George Washington becomes the first U.S. President
1803: Louisiana sold to the United States by France
1945: Hitler commits suicide
1975: The Viet Nam war ends, with the South surrendering to the North
April 30th is also the start of Beltane (or May Day, as we call it). It celebrates the height of Spring and the flowering of life. The dance around the phallic Maypole symbolizes the sacred marriage of the Goddess and God. This is the time of the Lord and Lady -- the festival of unashamed sexuality and fertility. On May Eve (April 30th), bless your garden in the old way by making love with your lover in it. Make a wish as you jump a bonfire (make it a little one, okay?) or a candle, for good luck. Then welcome in the May at dawn with singing and dancing.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
On this day in history:
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Phew! I made it to 100 pages on Beyond the Beast last night. That puts me almost a third of the way through. I'm very happy about that.
So happy, in fact, I thought I'd share a picture of my hero, Ryder. Keep in mind the moon is full, and he's not in a very good mood...
I have my RWA chapter meeting today, and I anticipate coming home fully revved up to write, but tired so I'll probably nap instead. :)
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:40 AM
Friday, April 28, 2006
Words are my life. Words, I hope, will earn a living for me. So why do they come so hard sometimes?
Is it because I don't have the story plotted out well enough? Or that I have it too plotted out and have removed some of the "magic" of the storytelling?
Maybe I don't understand my characters enough to really get inside their heads.
Maybe it's hormones.
I have managed about 2,000 words each day so far, but it's been, well, a struggle. Maybe more so now that I have additional pressure to get this manuscript done.
But I guess that's what life is all about, right? Pressure, put on us by ourselves and by others. I've got to get used to writing under deadline. It's just... what was I thinking?!? I've got 70,000 words to write in a limited amount of time.
Oy. Well, I'll get it done. To fail is unacceptable. And so I leave you now, for today, to sit and write at least another 2,500 words. Hopefully they'll be good words. But if they're not, at least I'm writing.
Have a great one, everybody!
(P.S. It's my author day over at WCP Torrid's Readers Group. Come on over -- I'll be posting excerpts of Chocolate-Covered Werewolves, and maybe even a sneak peek at Hot Time in the City, my Summer Sizzlers story.)
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 5:20 AM
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Hey, I'm blogging over at NCP today, so come on over. I'm talking about dreams (yeah, I'm still hung up on my snake dream. I mean, WTF??? Some people dream of their characters or hot guys, and I get a mutant snake.). Come on over and chat with me so I don't feel so alone.
I'm also chatting over at Pink Posse with the other LSB authors today. I'm there from 5-7 p.m. EST, so if you get a chance, stop on by!
And so my space here isn't so lonely, here's some eye candy for all you crazy guys and gals. It's a tattoo theme...
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:28 AM
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
I very rarely remember my dreams. The ones I do are the ones where I wake up directly following the dream's end, thinking 'Okay. That was weird.'
Here's my dream from last night. I'm sleeping, but wake when I feel something wet trickle down my back. I reach around to wipe it off (it tickles), and my hand encounters ... something. Something soft. Something alive. Almost immediately I realize it's a snake. (And since I'm in Arizona, naturally it was a diamondback rattlesnake.) I grab it (interestingly enough, just under the head so it can't bite me) and bring it around to look at it. The only thought I have is to get it outside.
I don't recognize my surroundings. (I mean, now that I'm awake, I don't know where I was in the dream. I wasn't at home.) But it seemed to take an awfully long time to get to an outside door. And the longer it took, the madder the snake got.
Just as I finally reached a door, he'd had enough. He unhinged his jaw and somehow bent his head and sank his fangs into my hand--right in the fleshy part between thumb and forefinger. (Remember, I'm holding him so he isn't supposed to be able to do that. Lucky me. I get a mutant snake.) I toss him outside and look down at my hand, which had already started to turn bluish-purple, except where the fang marks showed as two white, raised bumps.
That's when I woke up.
Wonder what it means?
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:49 AM
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Atonement by Sherrill Quinn
Review Site: Ecataromance
Reviewer: Candy Bezner
Sensuality Rating: Sultry
Yay!! My vamp continues to seduce and draw them in... hehehe.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:25 AM
Sunday, April 23, 2006
I had a great time at the conference--more so in meeting Kate and Jenna than in sitting through the conference. LOL On Friday we drove up to Sedona and spent about 2 hours there (not nearly enough time), but just getting out of the car and looking at the red rock formations is relaxing. And it never hurts getting out in the sun, anyway.
I heard a lot of great stuff at the conference--some things I knew already, some I didn't. The biggest detriment to paying attention, however, were the chairs. Talk about having a numb bum. Oy. After about 10 minutes (I'm not kidding--they were THAT uncomforable) all I could think of was when the darned thing would be over so I could get my poor behind off the chair. (We actually left the conference early. Jenny Crusie and Bob Mayer were speaking this morning from 9-11; we left at about 9:15 or 9:20. Just couldn't do it to my poor abused derriere any more.)
Plus, for me, the beds weren't comfortable at all. Too, too hard. The first two nights I barely slept, although I think that was mostly nerves over making a pitch to the St. Martins editor. Last night I slept better, although when I got up my hips and back hurt. And still do. Can't wait to get into my own bed tonight. *sigh* There's no place like home.
The highlight of the conference: Monique Patterson at St. Martins asked me for a full manuscript after I pitched my werewolf story. And, because I had time to pitch another idea (with nothing plotted out, no GMC figured out, and only a bare sketch in my mind of the characters), I've got the green light to send 3 chapters and synopsis of that when I get them done. Which makes any discomfort I had over the last 3 days completely worth it! *grin*
Needless to say, I'm very excited about this turn of events. And, since I have only three chapters done of the werewolf story, I'm going to be rather scarce over the next several weeks. I hope to be able to continue to blog every day, but I'm not making any promises at this time. I've got to get this story done and polished and submitted ASAP.
And now I'm going to go take a nap for a bit, then unpack and do some dinner preparation for the next week, so I spend less time in the kitchen and therefore more time on my laptop writing, writing, writing.
It's good to be home!
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 3:09 PM
Thursday, April 20, 2006
I just came across another site -- it looks to be in Russian or some other slavic dialect, but I can get around enough to do this:
Here's the link so you can have your own sexy fun.
I'll be out of touch more than usual for the next several days... I'll be at a writer's conference in Scottsdale with Jenna and Kate and about 250 other writers. See y'all back here on Monday!
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 5:55 AM
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Someone on a blog a few days ago was talking about going to a zoo. I'd responded that I won't go to zoos anymore, and let me tell you why.
Several years ago, my sister wanted to go to the Cleveland Zoo. Neither one of us had ever been there, and we hadn't been to a zoo since we were kids. So, we got in the car and drove up. When we walked in, to the left was the elephant pen. There were three elephants gathered near a building that had a large door (like a garage door for a motor home storage unit, only bigger). One of the elephants stood there, rocking back and forth, banging her forehead against the door. I don't know why she was doing it, but it broke my heart.
On we went, looking at the various animals, many of which I'm sure I'll never get to see in the wild. It was when we arrived at the silverback gorilla exhibit that I made my decision to never go to a typical zoo again. There was a large gorilla at the front of the exhibit, sitting there with his fingers and toes wrapped around the fencing (fencing in a grid-like pattern, not up and down bars), staring at the humans staring at him. He had the saddest expression on his face, in his eyes... I almost started crying right there. Never again, I said to my sister. Never. Again.
Then I visited southern Arizona and discovered the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum. This place is set up to look much more natural. The animals there are native to the Sonoran Desert, as the name suggests (and as you'll see from the various pictures I have here--the cougar on the left, a bobcat on the right). But the "pens" seem incredibly natural and I don't have as much of a sense that these animals are in captivity, although of course I know they are. But I can fool myself much more easily than I can at a traditional zoo.
Here are two javelinas (pronounced 'have-a-leena') on the left, and a big horn sheep on the right.
There are two places where it's quite obvious the animals are held there forcibly. The reptile habitat, where snakes and lizards are held in aquariums. (Thank you for that!) The first time I went there, I alerted one of the employees to an escape attempt by one of the snakes--I saw the tip of his tail just as he exited from the top of the glass enclosure. I don't remember what kind of snake it was. I don't remember it as being one of the poisonous variety, but it could have been. But, still, it was a snake and he was loose. That's enough for me!
(Here we have a Mexican gray wolf, an ocelot, and a coyote.)
The other place where it's obvious this is a zoo is the riparian area. Of course the birds are in large cages so they can't fly away. (insert sad face here) But at least they're not looking at me with big, sad eyes.
If you're ever in southern Arizona, the Sonora Desert Museum is one place you don't want to miss!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
... and I'm not quite sure how to feel about it. On one hand, I'm patting myself on the back. On the other, I'm a bit anxious about changes that may have been made that I had no say in.
What happened? you ask. I received an email from the editor assigned to me for The Praetorians: Discovery, my May 19th release with New Concepts Publishing. (This is the one where the hero has his DNA spliced with that of a cougar, hence my cougar pic.) In it she wrote: 'Your story is fast-paced and easy to follow. The characters and dialogue work well.' Then she asked a question about one small thing, and continued that once I'd responded, she'd insert that information into the text and send it onto the Senior Editor for publication.
I haven't seen the edits, and apparently I won't be.
So, as I said, while I'm quite pleased that she apparently only found minor, minor changes (i.e., spelling, punctuation, grammar), there is the possibility she changed something I don't want changed.
I'll be sending off an email to the Senior Editor to check, just as soon as I figure out how to be tactful enough that I don't sound like I'm questioning the editor's ability to do the job.
Monday, April 17, 2006
"Hot-Hot-Hot. That is what you get when you read Atonement by Sherrill Quinn. There is the ever sassy, bold, and tough as nails Tessa, and ever so sexy immortal Simon, who, like Tessa, I wanted to throw down on the ground and take what he had to give soon as I read his description. Atonement brings a new twist on the history of Jack the Ripper, one that brings him into the world of darkness and passion that is the immortal world. I found the chemistry between Simon and Tessa amazingly passionate, and Ms. Quinn did an amazing job of capturing that passion in writing. The only thing that can be said about Simon and his amazing mouth, fingers, and other parts is DAMN. Be prepared to take breaks, because Simon will definitely make you need them! An absolute thrill to read, this one is worth keeping!"
That's what I'm talkin' about!
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 7:00 AM
Saturday, April 15, 2006
It's no secret I love cowboys, and there's no shortage of them here in Arizona. We probably don't have as many per capita as Texas, but we've got our share.
The cowboy philosophies on life are something to keep in mind:
1. Don't squat with your spurs on.
2. Don't interfere with something that ain't bothering you none.
3. If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging.
4. Always drink upstream from the herd.
5. Telling a man to git and making him do it are two entirely different propositions.
6. When you give a personal lesson in meanness to a critter or to a person don't be surprised if they learn their lesson.
7. If you're riding ahead of the herd, take a look back every now and then to make sure it's still back there.
8. The quickest way to double your money is to fold it over and put it back in your pocket.
9. If you get to thinking you're a person of some influence, try ordering somebody else's dog around.
10. And never, ever, miss a good opportunity to shut up.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 7:16 AM
Friday, April 14, 2006
I'll be heading up to Scottsdale in a week for a regional RWA conference. I'll get to meet my buds Jenna and Kate for the first time, and scores of other authors whom I know online. (Hi, Chey! Hi, Paige!) I'm very excited about that.
What I'm not so excited about--and I should be--is my one-on-one with the St. Martins editor. Have I started preparing my pitch yet? you ask. Ha! Silly willy. Whatever were you thinking?
The other thing I am excited about is ... I'm not doing a booksigning. If I were, I can only imagine the thoughts going through my mind. What if nobody comes to my spot? What if they do only to tell me my book was okay. Just okay. What if...
You see? Right now, no booksigning=good thing. Especially since I only have four things out. Next year... well, we'll have to see about that.
And interestingly enough--and quite timely--I received the latest edition of The Writer. There's an article in there titled "Handle the Spotlight." It includes tips on going from a private writer to a public speaker. The two I focused on (because I'm nowhere near ready to be on radio or TV) were: booksignings and conventions.
* Be approachable. Don't just sit at the table waiting for people to talk to you--reach out and touch someone by handing out a book. (Of course, with this little pointer, you probably should be prepared for them to hand it right back to you.)
(Can I tell you this? When I attended the first meeting of my newly formed local RWA chapter, I didn't know anyone. Not a soul. I was about 15 minutes early, but already people had settled into tables with people they knew. So I swallowed--hard--walked up to one table and started introducing myself. They looked at me like I was nuts. With a capital N. What do you think I did then? You got it. I pulled back into myself and slunk off to a table where no one else was sitting, plopped myself down, and figured I'd talk to people if (when, please GOD!) they decided to sit at the same table. Nothing's more crushing than being at a table by yourself. It's like always being the last one chosen for the team. Hmm. Been there, done that, too.)
* Don't be shy. (Hmm. Okay, it says that, but it doesn't tell you how not to be shy.) Everyone who comes into the bookstore (or walks by your table), hand them a bookmark that has a picture and brief description of your book.
* Focus on others, not yourself. Decide to make friends with people who inhibit you. (If you're like me, and many writers are, you'll have LOTS of new friends. Cuz, well, lots of people inhibit you. A lot of times I wish I didn't care what others think of me as much as I do. I think I'd have more fun.)
Anyone have any other tips on how to get over being shy? That doesn't involve massive amounts of alcohol? I want to get over being inhibited, not look like a sloshed idiot.
And tell me what you think of this quote: Shyness has a strange element of narcissism, a belief that how we look, how we perform, is truly important to other people. ~Andre Dubus
So, does this mean I'm really a narcissist deep down? I'm not sure I like that...
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:15 AM
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Would you look at that! We received our cover yesterday for the Summer Sizzlers Anthology with Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. My bud Jenna Howard and I have stories in this book, as well as eight other authors. Jenna's story picks up with the third sister, Summer, in her seasonal series.
My story is also the third in a series of four. Hot Time in the City is Brandt and Dakota's story. While each story can be read as a stand-alone, it's nice to read them in order.
The first story, Careful Wishes, is about Adelaide Langdon, one twin in a set of twins who owns the private investigation firm Friends, Incorporated. She and vice cop Donovan Miles had their differences, the big one was his inability to accept her gift of empathy with animals. Empathy that runs deeply enough to enable her to communicate with them. But a life-threatening event makes him rethink his cowardice, and a matchmaking granny and missing wiener dog help the estranged lovers along.
The second story, Chocolate-Covered Werewolves, part of the Spring Flings Anthology, tells Sydney's story. Syd is Addie's twin, and she handles some of the more unusual cases for the firm. When she was asked by a friend of her mother's to investigate Killian Murphy, she discovered he's not a vampire, as the older lady had feared. Rather, he's a sexy werewolf who makes her howl with ... well, howl. Instead of chocolate bunnies in her Easter basket, Syd's gonna get a chocolate-covered werewolf. Yum!
Now, in Hot Time in the City, we move onto the first story of the second set of twins. Brandt De Winton lost the woman he loved because of his own stubborn insistence on following the rules, even though his gut told him he was wrong. Now Dakota Jennings is back and asking for his help. He's determined to keep her this time, and she just might let him. But it's going to involve some payback and the use of his handcuffs...
Watch out for Summer Sizzlers, available July 1st at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:27 AM
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
A few posts ago I talked about the differences between men and women, in the way they think and their needs and wants.
One of my friends just sent me an email that I believe demonstrates this basic difference quite well:
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who's not a creep
One who's handsome, smart & strong,
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks
I pray he's gainfully employed,
When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
Massages my back and begs to do more.
Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind,
Knows how to answer "how big is my behind?"
I pray this man will love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend.
I pray for a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with big boobs
who owns a liquor store & a bass boat. This doesn't rhyme
& I don't care.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 7:19 AM
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Now, I don't want to seem ungrateful for the two or three people who have come by here to say hello and leave comments. I appreciate it. I do. But a few of the blogs I routinely visit have been quoting song lyrics, which got me to reflect on my visitor traffic over the last couple of days, where few of my usual visitors have, well, visited. Here's my song:
He sounds too blue to fly
The midnight train is whining low
I'm so lonesome I could cry
I've never seen a night so long
When time goes crawling by
The moon just went behind a cloud
To hide it's face to cry
Did you ever see a robin weep
When leaves begin to die
That means he's lost the will to live
I'm so lonesome I could cry
The silence of a falling star
Lights up a purple sky
And as I wonder where you are
I'm so lonesome I could cry
Hank Williams or Willie Nelson, take your pick
Or, there's this one:
Anyone out there (anyone out there) oh, oh
Anyone out there (anyone out there) oh, oh
Anyone out there (anyone out there) oh, oh
Anyone out there (anyone out there)
I like my new friends who're coming by, but I miss my old friends, the friends who used to come every day, or just about. Now ... I dunno. (sniffing my armpits) I'm showering regularly, using deoderant, I'm not being offensive in word or deed ... at least, I don't think I am.
Well? Is anyone out there? Hello?
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:00 AM
Monday, April 10, 2006
Well, I finished the edits to The Wolf of Cnoc Meadha and will be sending it off to my editor this morning sometime, as soon as I take one last look at the sucknopsis. Er, I mean synopsis.
Then, it's back to Past Land's End, another werewolf story. I've got a start on Chapter Three, and my goal is to write at least two chapters per week (that's anywhere from 40 to 50 pages for me, or 10,000 words). That's completely doable at 2,000 words per day.
And (because I can't work on just one thing at a time--I need some variety in case I get stuck. Plus, I'm crazy.) I'm also starting a novella for Amber Quill as part of The Lusty League Amber Pax. Five stories to be tentatively released in July in a superhero-themed pack. Readers can buy each book separately, or as part of a group. I'm still in the thinking/planning stages, but I've got my main character's names and powers. The hero's code name is Obsidian, and the heroine is called Phoenix by the gang she hangs with, because she can throw fire from her hands. Hence, the working title of Obsidian's Flame.
You can keep watch on my progress on both stories on the counters to the side, under Works In Progress.
Also, head on over to Indulgence to read my latest installment of All's Fair. Rissa finally gets what she wants, sort of. And Nick... well, he's going to have a lot to make up for after this. That's all I'm sayin'.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:40 AM
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Make sure you answer all of these questions in order.
1. How do you put a giraffe in the refrigerator?
The correct answer: Open the refrigerator, put the giraffe in, and close the door. This question tests whether you tend to do simple things in an overly complicated way.
2. How do you put an elephant in the refrigerator?
The correct answer: Did you say, open the refrigerator, put the elephant in, and close the door? Wrong answer.
Correct answer: Open the refrigerator, take out the giraffe, put the elephant in, and close the door. This tests your ability to think through the repercussions of your previous actions.
3. The Lion King is hosting an animal conference. All the animals attend, except one. Which animal does not attend?
The correct answer: The elephant. The elephant is in the refrigerator. You just put him there. This tests your memory.
Okay, even if you didn't answer the first three questions correctly, you still have one more chance to show your true abilities.
4. There is a river you must cross, but it is used by crocodiles and you don't have a boat. How do you manage it?
The correct answer: You jump into the river and swim across. Haven't you been paying attention? All the crocodiles are attending the animal conference. This tests whether you learn quickly from your mistakes.
According to Anderson Consulting Worldwide, around 90% of the professionals they tested got all the questions wrong, but many preschoolers got several correct answers. Anderson Consulting says this conclusively disproves the theory that most professionals have the brains of four-year-olds.
(P.S. Jenna's over at Torrid Temptations today -- stop in and say Hi!)
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Except for last-minute edits, once my critique partners get done with it, The Wolf of Cnoc Meadha (tentative title) is complete! And in time to submit for a New Concepts Publishing anthology that's slated for an October release. I hope this makes it.
Now I have to get back into the story I'm going to be pitching at the Desert Dreams Conference in two weeks. Yikes! Somebody get me a paper bag. It's in two weeks.
On another note...
Over at the Indulge Authors group, we're hosting excerpts from four of the ten stories in the Spring Flings Anthology (available now at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid). If you're not a member ... why not?!? Get your booty over there and join now! And, not that I'm hinting or anything, but we could use more guys. Our one poor manly group member--even though he seems to be having fun--is a bit outnumbered.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 7:25 AM
Friday, April 07, 2006
A couple of days ago, a reader and aspiring erotic romance author visited my blog and commented on Chocolate-Covered Werewolves, my story in the Spring Flings anthology available now at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. So I did what I normally do when someone new to me comments on my blog--I looked at her profile and went to her blog, where I saw something that completely surprised me. She'd blogged about me, and Choco-Weres. Check it out.
Is that cool, or what?
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:55 AM
Thursday, April 06, 2006
A husband in his back yard is trying to fly a kite. He throws the kite up in the air, the wind catches it for a few seconds, then it comes crashing back down to earth. He tries this a few more times with no success.
All the while, his wife is watching from the kitchen window, muttering to herself how men need to be told how to do everything.
She opens the window and yells to her husband, "You need a piece of tail."
The man turns with a confused look on his face and says, "Make up your mind. Last night, you told me to go fly a kite."
(Courtesy of Uncle Oscar. The rascal.)
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:50 AM
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Just got it last night from the owner/editorial director of Amber Quill Press -- my cover for The Claiming:
Meet Rhys Valorian, exiled vampire prince from the planet Nosfer. Rhys is in a bit of a bind, literally. You see, his ex-lover, Kassinda Marjani, is hauling him into the authorities on trumped-up bioweapons smuggling charges. She's desperate to free her brother from prison. But Rhys isn't too keen on taking his place. When they crashland on a barbaric planet where men show their love for their women by pleasuring them wherever and whenever they want, Rhys knows it's time to make his move and claim his woman.
Here's an unedited excerpt:
Rhys bit back a grin as her eyes flared with anger. She was sassy, his Kass. Always had been, even when everyone else around him was fawning over him with simpering and snivelings of ‘prince this’ and ‘prince that.’
An exiled royal-turned-smugger was no prince. Regardless of his birthright.
“Get. These. Off. Me.” She struggled in his grip, even going so far as to kick him on his boot-covered shin.
By the gods, she was entrancing. Strong, determined, sometimes even foolhardy. Her pulse beat rapidly at the base of her throat, enticing him with her heat, her very essence. While he had reversed the situation and now held her as his captive, he was like a fly in her web. If he wasn’t careful, she’d have him for dinner.
But what a way to go.
He remembered how she felt in his arms, underneath his body, wrapped around his cock. “Do you still make those little mewling noises when you come, ahya?” he asked, lust making his voice deep and raspy.
When she went to kick him again, he lifted her off the floor by her manacled wrists, dangling her so her face was level with his. When her knee lunged toward his groin, he blocked it with his thigh and then trapped her leg between his. “Uh-uh-uh,” he admonished, giving her a little shake.
He couldn’t hold back the grin as she sputtered and twisted in his grasp.
She was like a frightened kitten, all arched body and spitting fury. It made him want to stroke her into calmness. He sent a gentling thought her way and felt her stiffen against him.
“Don’t even try your damned Nosfer mojo on me,” she hissed, brown eyes glittering with anger. “I didn’t like it five years ago; I don’t like it now.”
“It frightened you five years ago, ahya,” he said, the hurt of her rejection flaring as hotly as if the rebuff had happened mere moments ago. “Why are you so afraid to share your mind with me?”
Renewing her struggles, she fought against him until she was panting heavily and sweat trickled the side of her face. “My mind is my own,” she gritted. With a small grunt, she tried to thwack him with the manacles.
He tightened his grip, knowing he had merely to wait her out. She would tire and have no choice but to give up this fight. She gave it her all, twisting in his arms, kicking out with her free leg.
The sight of her passionate anger ramped up his own arousal. His cock grew hot and heavy, throbbing with insistent intent behind the placket of his pants. He wanted to kiss the frustration and distrust off her face, smooth his thumbs over her stubborn chin and full, sensual lips.
With the mood she was in, though, she’d most likely bite him.
If there was going to be any biting being done, he’d be the one doing it. And it wouldn’t be in anger.
Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
Coming from Amber Quill Press in June!
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 1:30 AM
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
So I'm going to this RWA regional conference in a few weeks, right? And I was insane enough to ask for an editor appointment. With someone from St. Martins.
After all, that's Cheyenne McCray and Lora Leigh's new publisher. Two of what is a growing number of erotic romance authors who got their start in e-pubbing. If they can do it... and all that crap.
What was I thinking?
The story I'm planning on pitching has 2 chapters done. Two. That's a 1 followed by a 2. Two chapters out of about 20.
Never mind me. I'm practicing how to hyperventilate, too. I'll just sit over here in the corner, drool dribbling over my chin as I play with my lips and weave baskets with my toes. Because surely sooner or later, they're coming to take me away.
And make sure you make a trip over to Torrid Temptations and say hi to a new Indulge Author -- Anna J. Evans.
Monday, April 03, 2006
I'm so thrilled!
Here's what Fallen Angel Reviews (FAR) had to say about Careful Wishes (part of Torrid Teasers Volume 3), Atonement, and Redemption:
In Careful Wishes, "Donovan and Adelaide will steal your heart from the moment you read their story! I commend Sherrill Quinn for portraying their turbulent relationship so accurately. These two characters also share some smart dialogue and plenty of scorching love scenes to really enhance the storyline. This was my personal favorite of the anthology..." (Sarah W.)
"Atonement is a quick read that offers characters you will immediately be drawn to, some of which you will love and some you will be rooting against. With an action-packed plot and tantalizing chemistry, readers cannot go wrong with this story. Sherrill Quinn has done an outstanding job creating an imaginative story and earned herself a new fan." (Jessica)
"Redemption is a wonderful story about second chances and love. Ms. Quinn writes with great depth about how two people ... are willing to sacrifice everything for that love for each other. Redemption is a fantastic read." (Sonya)
I am doin' a Snoopy dance! This is just way cool -- I am livin' the dream, my friends. Livin' the dream.
AND... Emma Sinclair has my author interview up at her blog. Go over and check it out.
AAAANNNNDDDD ... Paige Burns' latest book is available today at Liquid Silver Books. Riding the Line promises to be a steamy read--check out Paige's blog for an excerpt. And then get on over to Liquid Silver Books later this afternoon and buy this book!
BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! Kate Lang has the latest installment of Fire and Ice up at Indulgence. Go. It's free!
Sunday, April 02, 2006
... on my current WIP. It's slated to be a 20-25k novella for submission to New Concepts for an anthology. My deadline is April 10th, so... I gotta get crackin'. But yesterday I finally went over 10,000 words, so I'm halfway done. Now I've just gotta hunker down and git 'er done.
My goal is to finish the rough draft so my critique partners can go crazy on it and I can make changes and still meet the deadline.
The premise is ... whimsical to a degree. The heroine, MacKenzie McCallum, used to be a dog. I don't mean she was ugly. I mean she used to be an Irish wolfhound in the court of the High King of the Fae. The hero, Connor mac Finnbheara, the oldest son of the High King, was cursed 200 years ago to be a werewolf the three nights of the full moon. Because he only attacks other Fae during his transformation, he is banished to the human realm during those three days and nights. Mackey isn't Fae enough to be in danger. Or... is she? Even so, can she love him for what he is and perhaps be the key to ending his curse?
I've got an unedited excerpt here, but need to give some definitions first:
seis - pronounced "sace", means curse
Danu - the Mother Goddess of ancient Ireland
Fomorian - enemies of the Tuatha De Danann
Tuatha De Danann - pronounced "too-ah day dah-nawn", the gods and goddesses of Ireland (mostly relegated today to being little fairy creatures)
Cailleach - pronounced "cawl-yatch", it's a crone or witch
Daoine Sidhe - pronounced "deenie shee", they are the Tuatha De Danann who remained behind in Ireland, living beneath the fairy mounds (or sidhes).
Now, onto the excerpt:
The East be my witness, the West see my pain,
North wind a squall, South wind a bane.
Dark child of woe, not friend, but foe.
The Wolf's spirit will follow where'er you go.
By our great goddess I lay this seis.
Under the full moon shall we see your true face,
None of Danu's children shall be safe
Until the love of a fae unmakes that which I have made.
Pronounced to Prince Connor mac Finnbheara by a Fomorian Cailleach
* * * *
"Where are you?" Queen Una of the Daoine Sidhe passed her hand over the Well of Sight again and again, the scenes before her changing with each motion. First a small village near the sea, then a bustling city, a fairy ring, a park with a lovely, placid lake …. But she didn't find what she was looking for.
She searched for MacKenzie McCallum, a young woman for whom she felt a particular responsibility, seeing as it was her fault the lass had been exiled to the human realm nearly two hundred years before.
But at least wee MacKenzie had been given the chance to live as a human instead of a dog. She should be embracing life with every breath, though Una was sure the lass was moping about somewhere like some sort of bridge troll.
"She cannae expect normal when she used to be a dog," Una muttered.
Her oldest son, Connor, walked into the room. "Who’re you spying on now?" he asked with an indulgent smile on his handsome face. His deep tones reflected the cultured schooling he'd received in the human realm, although his voice still carried the lilt of the Sidhe. He was tall and strong, the best warrior the Fae had.
And that quickly, Una knew a way to help both of these wayward children. She would use her son’s kind heart against him, as it were, but for his own good, of course. He’d be just the thing for MacKenzie.
"I don’t think I like the look on your face." One eyebrow rose as he slowed his pace. The lad acted like he didn’t want to get too close to her. She sighed and rolled her eyes. The males of her race were so suspicious.
Of course, it wouldna hae anything to do with the fact that the women of the Daoine Sidhe were known to be a sneaky lot.
"Why, Connor, me love. Whatever do ye mean?" Una pasted what she hoped was an innocent look on her face which, by the dark expression on his, failed woefully.
"You’re up to something."
"Natch." She smiled and patted him on the cheek as if he were a wee boy in knee britches. The gesture would throw him off. "Ye’re just too distrustful, is what ye are."
Sure enough, a scowl crossed his features, showing why he was sometimes called Faolchú Cnoc Meadha--The Wolf of Cnoc Meadha. Where most of the Daoine Sidhe were of fair complexion, he sported the darkest of hair and had skin with a tawny cast. And while the others of the trooping faeries were glad of heart, Connor tended toward the serious and brooding side of things. She’d have thought he was a Changeling had she not birthed the lad herself.
Then, of course, there was the matter of his curse …
And if that wasna enough for the lad to bear, here he was with one blue eye and one brown. Both of which were narrowed on her at this very moment.
She pretended reluctance. "Weel ..." Waving her hand over the Well, she created a picture from her memory, and pointed to a lovely young woman with short, curly blonde hair and sparkling eyes the deep blue of the ocean. "See that lass there?" She watched him lean in for a closer look.
"Aye." He nodded, his gaze intent upon the young woman.
Una gripped her fingers together to keep from clapping in glee. He was interested. So like his da, he was. Show him a pretty face, and other interesting bits and pieces, and he couldna look at anything else. Of course, Connor had more moral fortitude than did his da. She knew her son. Once he committed himself to something, he stayed committed. He was perfect for MacKenzie.
"I've lost track of her. It's important I make sure she's doin' all right."
When she didn’t go on, her son shot her a look of impatience. "Why?" he prompted.
This is where it could get tricky. She crossed her fingers behind her back. "The poor thing has spent the last several years pinin' for a cure."
"For what?" he asked, staring intently at the young woman.
Victory was close at hand. Una fought to keep her feet still; she so wanted to dance in glee. "Her loneliness and isolation; the grief she refuses to acknowledge at bein' exiled to the realm of humans." Una heaved a sigh, looking at her son from under her lashes. "It would mean the world to me if ye'd find her, lad. Just to set me mind at ease that she's doin' well."
Connor trailed a long finger across the surface of the water, making the young woman’s image ripple. He seemed deep in thought, a frown pulling again at his brow. Finally he asked, "But if she's Fae, I'd be a danger to her."
"Ach, she's no' Fae, Connor, no' really. So I dinna think ye'd be putting her in any danger." She made sure she maintained a mixture of concern and hope on her face. He was such a stubborn man. Got that trait from his da, he did.
"We’re still a day away from the full moon anyway," he replied in an absentminded way, still staring at the image of the lass in the Well.
Una wondered at his thoughts. She knew what he saw: a petite woman with a pixie face, stubborn chin and slender body, dressed in a knit top and flirty skirt.
"It shouldn’t take long, should it?" He trailed his finger in the water again, not taking his eyes off the reflection of the young woman.
"Weel, ye could also be about findin' the woman who can break yer curse." Una laid one hand on her son's brawny forearm. When he made to draw away from her, she tightened her fingers. "It's past time, Connor. Ye deserve some happiness, too."
His jaw clenched, the muscles twitching, then he relaxed, though his face remained solemn. "Now's not the time to be looking, Mother. One more day and the full moon is upon me; I'll kill anything Fae that comes across my path."
"Then ye've no worries here, for this lass isna Fae," she said, and pointed back at the image in the Well. "The last I knew, she was goin' by the name Bridget O'Neill." Una slid her hand up to his wide shoulder and patted it, trying to comfort this wild child of hers, this man so full of sorrow. This had to work. The son of King Finnbheara had borne his curse too long. "Aye,” she said in a soft voice, and laid her hand in the crook of his elbow. "No worries. And a day is plenty o’ time. All ye need to do is find her, talk to her, show her what a wonderful life she has, now that she’s human."
"Now that she’s ..." He cocked one brow. "And she used to be ...?"
"Oh, she was such a lovely wolfhound."
"She was ... a dog?" He looked in the Well again, his frown lifting into a slow grin. "I'm fairly certain I can show her that life’s definitely better as a human than a furry mongrel."
"Weel, now, she wasn’t just any furry mongrel, lad." Even now, two hundred years later, Una still felt satisfaction at the deed she’d performed. Not that Finn had appreciated it. No, he’d not appreciated it at all. "She was ye’re da’s favorite."
He stared at her. Voice a bit sharp, he asked, "You changed Da’s favorite dog into a human? I don’t remember that."
"It happened while ye were in the human realm getting yer schooling," Una told him. "An’ when ye came back with the curse, weel, me changing his favorite dog into a human was no’ such a bad thing, after all."
His lips tightened for a moment, and then he seemed to shake the memories as a smile once again softened his mouth. "Aye, I imagine so. But what did he do?"
Una lifted her chin and crossed her arms over her bosom. "He wouldna dare lift a hand to me," she said in a mock huff, loving this part. "Me husband knows better than to try to best me with magic. He may be the undefeated chess champion of all the Fae--and a wicked strategist--but I’m far stronger than he in magic, and he well kens it."
"That you are," Connor agreed. "Poor Da. He must’ve been furious, though."
"Aye, he was." Una grinned, remembering the way Finn had stomped about the palace for days on end. He had promised retribution, and what sweet retribution it had been. Connor’s younger sister Fionna was the result of that particular season of punishment.
Stay tuned for more, hopefully in an anthology to be released this fall. *G*
P.S. Today's my author day at Torrid Temptations. Even with putting my own post up this morning, it didn't dawn on me that today's the second of the month and that means I'm over at Torrid. Oy vay. But I made it! I've shared some great news about Careful Wishes, and some yummy eye candy (for the gals. Sorry guys.).
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 12:09 AM
Saturday, April 01, 2006
It's here! The Spring Flings Anthology from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. This is a collection of 10 short stories from 10 WCPT authors--including yours truly and three other Indulge authors--Jenna Howard, Anna J. Evans and December Quinn.
My story is titled Chocolate-Covered Werewolves, because, well, there's a werewolf, and chocolate syrup... here's an excerpt (warning: contains adult language):
“Hello.” Sydney Langdon held the telephone receiver to her ear and tried to inject a smile into her voice. “Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call Friends.” It was hard, sounding like she cared, because she really didn’t want to be inside today. Spring was in full bloom and she wanted to get out and breathe in the cool air, smell the flowers, feel the late morning sun warming her face… She had a serious case of cabin fever.
“Sydney. Thank God. I don’t know what to do.” Ramy Roberts’ voice raised a full octave. “My neighbor is a vampire!”
Syd sighed. Again with the vampires. Although she couldn’t complain about it too much. The last time Ramy thought a vampire had moved next door, Killian Murphy had literally slammed into her life. In the form of his truck backing into her car.
And, of course, Killian had turned out not to be a vampire. She’d expected nothing else, because everyone knew vampires didn’t exist. But she’d learned that werewolves did.
My, Grandma, what big teeth you have… She grinned, remembering the first time she’d used that line on Killian. He looked so sexy when he had on just his blue jeans. The top button unbuttoned, showing more of that tantalizing trail of dark hair that led from his navel, tempting her with what lay further down.
Killian, with stormy gray eyes that turned tawny when his wolf was aroused. Killian, with his long, lean body, broad, skilled hands and wicked, wicked mouth…
“Sydney! Are you listening to me?” Ramy’s voice was shrill, bordering on hysterical.
Syd rubbed her forehead. Oy. What she wouldn’t give for a toffee nut latte right now. “Ramy…”
“Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady. I am not crazy.”
“I didn’t say you were, ma’am.” Syd stifled her next sigh and curled the phone cord around her index finger. Why her? Why now? She’d planned on taking the afternoon off and surprising Killian with a picnic lunch.
Complete with dessert. She just hadn’t figured out yet if she wanted him covered in chocolate or honey.
Mmm. Big, hard male smothered in rich, creamy chocolate syrup. Her body moistened and loosened at the thought of licking the sticky substance off his muscular frame. Sucking it off his thick, stiff cock.
Instead of chocolate bunnies in her Easter basket, she’d get a life-size chocolate werewolf.
Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
Also available from WCPT today is Torrid Teasers Volume 4 by Anna J. Evans--two hot, hot stories from this very talented writer.
What are you waiting for?!? Go. Now. Buy.