Friday, June 30, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
By day she's a dedicated gynecologist. By night Dr. Ella Cinder escapes reality by secretly performing in her own erotic adult version of Sinderella.
When sexy colleague Dr. Roarke Stephenson shows up in the Sinderella audience on the same night her Prince Charming stands her up, Ella seizes the opportunity to make Roarke into her Prince Charming for one night of hot blazing sex in front of an audience.
Dr. Roarke Stephenson is immediately captured by the lusciously curvy actress who hides behind a mask and is known only as Sinderella. For some insane reason she reminds him of his klutzy co-worker, Ella. But that's not possible. Ella would never have the nerve to do the wickedly delicious things Sinderella does to him ... or would she?
Available now at Ellora's Cave.
Jan Springer is a phenomenal author and my hero! If it hadn't been for a class she taught a year and a half ago, I wouldn't be where I am today. Thanks again, Jan. :)
I'm SExing today--come over and read about my first upcoming Chippendales experience!
"A man's kiss is his signature. " ~Mae West
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 12:05 AM
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Just as in real life, characters in fiction need jobs. They need something to do besides sit around, eat bonbons and worry about their troubles. Unless they're independently wealthy (which happens sometimes) or landed gentry (which also happens sometimes), they need a visible means of supporting themselves. Even if what they do is not quite on the up-and-up, they still have to pay bills and eat.
How they spend their time, even off camera (outside of the story), goes to what's at the heart of all fiction: a character's desire. What he wants, and what he's willing to do to get it. Jobs of all types can add nuance and complication. If the hero is a bartender, what's it like for him? Does he wish he were doing something else? If so, what? Does he have hobbies competing for his time and attention?
Jobs also give characters a reason to be or not be at certain places at certain times. And in some books, a character's job may take center stage, molding the character's conflicts and tensions.
When I begin fleshing out a story, I have a character interview sheet I use that has all those questions about things I should know about my character, from What color are his eyes to What's his favorite color/food/movie, etc. All of these sorts of questions help shape the character. But to really find out who a character is, I pay close attention to what he does, and why he does it. Let's face it. A character who has to be at the hospital or library or research lab has a life--one the reader can be drawn into. Occupation adds dimension.
Occupation gives purpose. The hero can't just lay around butt-naked all day. Well, he can...
... but he really needs to be more than just a pretty face attached to a muscular body. Really. He does.
I'm over at the NCP blog today, talking about men. What else?!? Come on over!
"Love is... born with the pleasure of looking at each other, it is fed with the necessity of seeing each other, it is concluded with the impossibility of separation." ~Jose Marti
Monday, June 26, 2006
From Francesca Hayne at Just Erotic Romance Reviews:
"The plotlines surrounding this story... are utterly exciting and invigorating... I found Max to be exceptionally sexy and his added animalistic features are carnally delicious. His dominant and confident personality makes for a spicy plot focus. Cat is also quite confident and when her dominant individuality clashes with Max's, it makes for a sparkly show of passion... If you are looking for a hot plot with spicy sex scenes... The Praetorians: Discovery would be a good read for you."
Read an excerpt or buy.
The latest installment of All's Fair is up at Indulgence. Check it out.
"Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other." ~Rainer Maria Rilke
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:00 AM
Sunday, June 25, 2006
I'll be over at Ebooklove today, chatting with readers with other AQP authors. The chat starts at 1:00 EST, and my time slot is 2:30-3:00 EST. Hope to see you there!
"Writing is a lot like sex. At first you do it because you like it, then you find yourself doing it for a few close friends and people you like. But if you're any good at all... you end up doing it for money." ~Author Unknown
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 7:00 AM
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Coming July 1st to Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, part of the Summer Sizzlers Anthology:
The third story in the seasonal theme, Hot Time in the City is Brandt de Winton's tale.
Back at Friends, Incorporated co-owner Brandt de Winton has come face to face with Dakota Jennings, the woman he'd loved and lost through his own short-sightedness. Now she's back, asking for his help. Can he convince her to give him another chance, to forget and forgive old hurts? Maybe, but there's a price to pay, and it involves the use of his handcuffs...
“Why do you have to have a goddamned summer wedding, anyway?” Brandt stared down at his cousin, trying to steel himself against the pitiful look in her slate-blue eyes. He tossed the last orange peel from his late lunch into the black mesh wastebasket beside his desk. “It’s hot as hell out, humidity’s up. It feels like a fucking sauna outside.”
Syd crossed her arms, her look going from pleading to glaring in a split second. “You have been like a bear with a bee up his butt since you got back from Akron three months ago. You haven’t stopped cussing, either. What’s your problem?”
He ground his teeth together, refusing to answer. What could he say, anyway? That he’d totally fucked things up for himself when he was in Akron? That he’d condemned himself to live half a life because he’d been too damned stubborn to accept the gift he’d been given?
That he’d thought Dakota had been too good to be true, and had set out to prove it only to be slapped in the face by the truth? The truth that she was good and honest and so goddamned sexy he got hard just thinking about her?
No, he couldn’t tell anyone what a total ass he’d been. He was too ashamed of his callous behavior. Too hurt by the memory of her tear-stained cheeks.
Raking a hand through his hair, he swore under his breath. “Fine,” he muttered, turning from her to sit behind his desk. He rotated his shoulders, trying to ease the knots that had been there since April. “Fine. I’ll stand with Turner and be co-best man for your fiancé.”
“Thank you.” Syd walked forward and perched on the edge of his desk. Her voice soft, she asked, “And the other? Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” When she would have said more, he held up his hand to stop her. “Really, Sydney. I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing to discuss.”
She got off his desk and walked out of the office. “Okay, okay.” Pausing at the door, she looked back at him. “But if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”
He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, where a headache was forming. Damn it. Four months, and he was walking around like a lion with a thorn in his paw. He couldn’t get Dakota out of his mind, wondering how she was doing, what she was doing, who she was doing.
And that was what made him the craziest. The thought of all that silken skin bared for another man, her lush breasts hard and ripe for another man’s mouth, her beautiful, swollen pussy spread for another’s possession.
He should do something about it. He could. But he had no right.
Not after the way he’d treated her.
Closing his eyes, he saw her again as she’d looked sprawled beneath him, her face flushed, eyes dark with desire. Voice throaty and pleading as he sensually tortured her.
“Hello, Brandt.” Her husky voice intruded, crawling through his nerve endings, setting them on fire.
He hunched his shoulders. His tortured thoughts had conjured an audio hallucination. God, it was confirmed: he had lost his fucking mind.
Looking up, he saw her standing in the doorway, a tremulous smile on her face. She was really here. He shot to his feet, knocking his chair back against the wall. Striding to her, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her into the room, slamming the door behind her. He released her and leaned against the door, blocking her exit.
His first thought was to keep her from leaving.
His second thought: Damn. She looks good.
Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
"Women with 'pasts' interest men because men hope that history will repeat itself." ~Mae West
Friday, June 23, 2006
... is in the hands of my critique group. If you've been tracking my progress meter on the right sidebar of my blog, you'll see it is finito! It took a bit longer to finish than I'd like--I had company, then I got sick, and even after I was on the mend I couldn't seem to concentrate. Thankfully... I got better. LOL
So, now it's onto the next project. I'm thinking of trying a short to submit to Ellora's Cave for their 2007 Cavemen series. I've got my critique group roped into a brainstorming session next week. I've got a glimmer of an idea and a rough outline, but I need some help with character goals and motivation. These women are fantabulous at that, so I've got no worries there!
And, of course, I'm still working on Beyond the Beast--I'm now over 50% through, and I think I'm finally getting back into the groove with it. Yay!
"Never mistake activity for achievement." ~John Wooden
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:10 AM
Thursday, June 22, 2006
... or is that a gun in your pocket?
Wait. Officer, I was just kidding. Really.
Okay, no. I wasn't. Come closer. You can handcuff me anytime, as long as you promise to show me how you use your, er, equipment.
"To hear many religious people talk, one would think God created the torso, head, legs and arms, but the devil slapped on the genitals." ~Don Schrader
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:20 AM
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
From New Publishing Concepts, new opportunities for authors:
We have many new projects we're working on throughout this year and the next, and we're very excited about these themes. These lines/series are open to all authors, so please spread the word to any writing groups you're on or to your writing friends. Also, please be sure to include the series title in the Subject header of your submission.
Releasing November 2006
The theme for this series is psychic powers. Examples include, but are not limited to psychokinesis, pyrokinesis, hydrokinesis, and other superhuman powers. Let your imagination run wild! Stories should be between 10,000 and 35,000 words, but longer novels will be considered. Genres can be historical, fantasy, futuristic, or paranormal/contemporary and can be in any locale or setting. Spicy or erotic sensuality is preferred. Current NCP authors can submit a detailed synopsis and 5-10k words. Non-NCP authors must submit full manuscript. Stories should be turned in for consideration no later than the end of July 2006. Send to submissions@ newconceptspublishing.com (no space)
Ongoing release dates
We are actively acquiring high quality, original interracial and multiracial romances for this line. This line is widely advertised in print media and heavily promoted wherever opportunities arise. Romance genres we are most interested in are paranormal, futuristic, fantasy, and historicalspicy or erotic are preferred. Straight contemporary romances are rarely accepted for this line. Novels should be at least 70,000 words but novellas will be considered for anthologies. Current NCP authors can submit a detailed synopsis and 10-15k words. Non-NCP authors must submit full manuscript. More information about this line can be found on our website: www.newconceptspublishing.com/submissionguidelines.htm (We've had requests for more Domination/Captive themes for this line, but are not limited to this theme alone.) Send to submissions@ newconceptspublishing.com (no space)
Releasing February 2007
The theme for this series is animal shifter clans, either of earthly origin or of the fantasy variety. (Please, no bestiality themes) Examples include, but are not limited to wolf, lion, bear, dragon, griffin, swan, etc. Stories should be between 10,000 and 35,000 words, but longer novels will be considered. Romance genres can be historical, fantasy, futuristic, or paranormal/contemporary, in any locale or setting and use any plot device, as long as shifting is used within the story. Spicy or erotic sensuality is preferred. Current NCP authors can submit a detailed synopsis and 5-10k words. Non-NCP authors must submit full manuscript. Completed stories should be turned in for consideration no later than the end of October 2006. Send to submissions@ newconceptspublishing.com (no space)
Releasing May 2007
The theme for this series is magical enchantments and curses. Examples include but are not limited to retellings of fairytales like Beauty and the Beast, Rose Red, Sleeping Beauty, etc. Stories should be between 10,000 and 35,000 words, but longer novels will be considered. Romance genres can be historical, fantasy, futuristic, paranormal, or contemporary, in any locale or setting and use any plot device, as long as the theme is used within the story. Spicy or erotic sensuality is preferred. Current NCP authors can submit a detailed synopsis and 5-10k words. Non-NCP authors must submit full manuscript. Completed stories should be turned in for consideration no later than the end of December 2006. Send to submissions@ newconceptspublishing.com (no space)
Releasing August 2007
Theme is summer and heat. These stories should be VERY SEXY and should include high sexual tension. Stories should be between 10,000 and 35,000 words. Romance genres can be historical, fantasy, futuristic, paranormal, contemporary, in any locale or setting. Spicy or erotic sensuality is preferred. Current NCP authors can submit a detailed synopsis and 5-10k words. Non-NCP authors must submit full manuscript. Completed stories should be turned in for consideration no later than the end of April 2007. Send to submissions@ newconceptspublishing.com (no space)
"Men are my hobby. If I ever got married, I'd have to give it up." ~Mae West
Monday, June 19, 2006
"Meow! In just over fifty pages, Discovery kicks off a new series with to-die-for men with that little extra something. Now, personally, I could have done without that whole barb-related story line (ouch!). There are just some places barbs should not go, but it certainly does lend itself well to some laugh-out-loud moments between Cat and Max amidst erotic bouts of sex. Don't know what I'm talking about? Well, let me leave that as a little tease to encouarge you to pick up the book. A thrilling futuristic tale that sizzles and satisfies, pick up your copy of Discovery today." ~Phillipa Ann, Romance Reviews Today
Read the full review in tomorrow's edition of Romance Reviews Today.
"Life without sex might be safer but it would be unbearably dull. It is the sex instinct which makes women seem beautiful, which they are once in a blue moon, and men seem wise and brave, which they never are at all. Throttle it, denaturalize it, take it away, and human existence would be reduced to the prosaic, laborious, boresome, imbecile level of life in an anthill." ~Henry Louis Mencken
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Coming July 1st to Whiskey Creek Press Torrid:
What happened after Cinderella married Prince Charming? Dragon's Bane is the story of Adara Tremeirchion, youngest fairy godmother in the guild, and Ruarc of Melthione.
After she did her job and got Cinderella together with her Prince Charming, Adara was considered the best in the guild. She also had made an enemy of Cinderella’s stepmother, a devious, powerful witch. When Adara sees Ruarc for the first time, her heart recognizes him as her One True Love. But the wicked stepmother has other plans for both of them. Ruarc is cursed to be dragon by night, man by day. Adara is stripped of her magic, and both of them are sent to the Hinterlands, where the dragons rule. In order to return to his life, Ruarc needs the blood of a virgin. For Adara to regain her magic and once again save Cinderella, she needs the blood and scales of a dragon.
Magic, dragons, wicked witches and True Love. What more do you need?
“Really, I don’t want…” Adara Tremeirchion slapped away her companion’s roving hands yet again. What had Francesca been thinking, to set her up on this date?
A hand slid up her thigh and she picked it up by the thumb and thrust it away. “No! I mean it.”
“Aw, come on, Adara. You know you want me.” Her companion pushed his chair closer, blocking the view of the other patrons in the busy pub. He tilted his head so the light caught and danced across the golden blond strands of his hair. When she saw him glancing at his reflection in the mirror over the bar, she rolled her eyes. She’d admit that he was a handsome rogue. But he knew it and that was a turn-off for her.
She was twenty-six years old and still a virgin. She wanted to find a man who would love her with a passionate, endless love. A man who was strong and brave and had a body to die for, but wasn’t vain. A man who would please his woman because he wanted to, not because he wanted something from her.
This guy wasn’t it.
“I don’t want you,” she said, batting at his hands.
One big hand grabbed both her wrists and held them. His other hand fondled her breasts. “Francesca said you’d play hard to get. Said I’d have to cajole you.”
“You call this cajoling?” Adara shook her head. Men. Why couldn’t she find just one who knew the difference between seduction and mauling?
“Yes, well, I’d say this is far more than playing hard to get. Darling, you’re the most frigid woman I’ve ever met. A real ice queen.”
That was just downright mean. She knew the Ice Queen, and she wasn’t a pleasant person. Enough was enough. She’d tried to be nice, but he wasn’t listening. Fine. She’d show him exactly why she was the youngest fairy godmother in the realm.
With the blink of one eye, she summoned her magic and threw him across the room. Everyone quieted and looked at the big man lying unconscious against the back wall, then looked back at her. She smiled and stood, standing as tall as her five foot four inch frame would allow, and gathered her handbag. “No means no,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear.
The men in the pub raised their eyebrows and then, almost as one person, they turned back to their dinners, shoulders hunched. The women smiled at her, giving her an unvoiced approval. Adara felt like she’d scored one for womankind everywhere.
Now, she had a job to finish. She just needed to dust off her “old lady” outfit and finish her matchmaking with Cinderella and her handsome prince.
Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
Update on one of my works-in-progress: I've finished Obsidian's Flame and it's now in the hands of my critique partners. Phew! This was an interesting journey. I started out planning the story to be about 20,000 words, then as I neared what I thought was the end, I adjusted that to 18,000. In the end, it's just over 20,600, so my first estimate was right all along!
I'm participating in a BIAW (Book In A Week) this week with some writers in my local RWA group. Starting this morning, I'll be head-down and back into Beyond the Beast. Wish me luck!
"Men reach their sexual peak at eighteen. Women reach theirs at thirty-five. Do you get the feeling that God is playing a practical joke?" ~Rita Rudner
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:30 AM
Saturday, June 17, 2006
¡Ay carumba! ¡Muy caliente!
I am such a sucker for strong collarbones, and this guy has 'em. And that tan line doesn't hurt, either...
"Love is the answer, but while you are waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions." ~Woody Allen
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 7:20 AM
Friday, June 16, 2006
So many times, we erotic romance authors write our heroes as men who are in dangerous or physical jobs: cops, firefighters, Navy S.E.A.L.S., cowboys. Or we make them preternatural: vampires, werewolves, hunky faes...
But what about our white collar heroes? Our suit-wearing attorneys, CEOs and, dare I submit, accountants?
While there's something about a man in uniform, there's also something about a man in a crisp suit or, better yet, a man not quite in his crisp suit...
Holy Hannah! Doesn't that just make you want to unbuckle that belt and see what else he's hiding? Follow that little happy trail of hair below his belly button to the treasure lying beneath...
"Sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. 'Yes' is the answer." ~Swami X
Thursday, June 15, 2006
I just came across this review from Autiotalo at Enchanted Ramblings, for Redemption, part of the Zodiac: Pisces duet with Liquid Silver Books:
"Redemption by Sherrill Quinn has one of the best starting hooks I've ever read... I couldn't stop reading this story... with it tender sex scenes and real sense of romance... The ending is tense and exciting--read it for yourself!"
And this one from Tara at Myshelf.com for Atonement:
"Atonement points out that there is often little difference between the good guys and the bad. Ms. Quinn writes a fast paced story of love and Atonement, with a hero to cheer for and a heroine worthy of him."
There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it. ~Edith Wharton
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:15 AM
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Monday, June 12, 2006
Tombstone, Arizona. The stuff legends are made of.
The town too tough to die... because the residents wouldn't let it. So now it welcomes hundreds of thousands of tourists year after year, charging fees for them to see the most historical spots in the town: Boot Hill Cemetery, the Bird Cage Theater, and the O.K. Corral. The historic buildings are now filled with shops and restaurants.
Don't get me wrong. I like going to Tombstone. It's still full of ambience, even 150 years after history was made there. Take a look:
The most famous "residents" of Boot Hill:
And some of the more "colorful"...
People, you can't make this stuff up! LOL
"That would be a good thing for them to carve on my tombstone: Wherever she went, including here, it was against her better judgment." ~ Dorothy Parker
Sunday, June 11, 2006
You can leave your hat on
Baby, (you can leave your hat on)
You can leave your hat on
Saturday, June 10, 2006
So, I'm watching TV the other day, surfing channels, really, and came across one of those real-life cop shows on Spike TV. I think it was Wildest Police Videos or something like that. Anyway, the particular scene that I came upon was an officer who'd pulled over a vehicle with a female driver. Don't know why, came into it too late. By the time I started watching, they were standing in front of the cruiser (all of this caught by the dash cam) and her hands were cuffed behind her back.
She's clearly drunk, and she's saying, "Do me. Do me." (You know how it is with women and a man in uniform!)
The poor officer, trying to stay in control and remain polite, says, "Hold on, now."
To which the woman responds, "Hold on to what?" and promptly tries to grope him.
The officer immediately does a quick two-step to get out of range but still retain hold--and control--of her.
Thus begs the question...
Even in handcuffs, if a woman can wrap her fingers around a cop's, erm, equipment, who's under whose control?
"When women go wrong, men go right after them." ~ Mae West
Friday, June 09, 2006
At least, according to my most recent reviews, I do! *G*
Kerin at EuroReviews recently read The Claiming and The Praetorians: Discovery. Here is what she had to say about both:
"Sherrill Quinn's writing is utterly addictive! Once again, she's penned a highly erotic... adventure-packed story that left me begging for more. The love scenes are so intense I had to check more than once for scorch marks. In addition, Ms. Quinn's sense of humor is delightful -- how she turned "purple spiny one" into a sexy endearment is just one obvious example of her brilliant writing ability."
Read the full review here.
"The Praetorians: Discovery was my introduction to the writing of Sherrill Quinn and... her writing enthralled me. This book is full of fast-paced action, very hot love scenes, and an abundance of humor that had me laughing out loud... If you're a fan of Lora Leigh's Breed series, you'll absolutely love this book. I've added Ms. Quinn to my "auto-buy" list and look forward to enjoying more of her work..."
Read the full review here.
How exciting is this? I am dancing on the ceiling, people. On. The. Ceiling! Yee-haw!!
"Achievement seems to be connected with action. Successful men and women keep moving. They make mistakes, but they don't quit. " ~ Conrad Hilton
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Beauty takes many forms.
From the Arizona Sonoran Desert Museaum: A wildcat snoozing in the mid-morning heat:
A wolf, pausing during his morning run:
A cactus flower, delicate upon its base of thorns:
From Sabino Canyon, a wall of rock rising from the canyon floor, majestic against the clear blue sky:
Sometimes, we get a reminder that wild beauty can be hazardous:
From Mt. Lemmon, pine trees and blue sky at the top of the mountain. On a clear day you can see into Mexico:
Today and all your tomorrows, I wish for you to find beauty in your day and peace in your heart.
There is a beautiful Indian apologue, which says: A man once said to a lump of clay, "What art thou?" The reply was, "I am but a lump of clay, but I was placed beside a rose and I caught a fragrance." ~ William Morley Punshon
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
He sat and waited, tired and hungry. How long could she keep shopping? When would she be satisfied? When all his hard-earned money was gone, that's when. He tried to put his foot down, he really did, but all she had to do was look at him with chocolate-brown eyes and full lips that pouted, and he was a goner. He could deny her nothing.
Who'd have thought that a hundred and twenty pounds of slender beauty could carry such weight? She crooked her finger and he followed, her willing--sometimes unwilling but ever faithful--slave.
The beauty of his surroundings was lost on him as he sank deeper into his funk. Was this what his life was all about? Work, work, work, and watch her spend, spend, spend?
Nearby, sitting straight and pretty in bright pink, an older lady perched on the side of the fountain. She waited, too.
She waited for the pain to fade, waited for the good memories to replace those that sometimes threatened to crush her with their heaviness.
This had been her favorite place to shop, to spend time with him. And he'd been ever indulgent, satisfying her whims because it made him happy to do so. He never griped about the little trinkets she bought and scattered throughout their home. He never complained about money, though she'd never spent more than they could afford.
Now after spending sixty-five years together... now she was alone. She missed him. She missed the way his big, warm hand curled around hers as they walked through the courtyards and down the narrow alleyways. There'd been nothing more comforting than feeling the slide of his palm and his fingers gently entwining with hers. Being here had always felt like they'd traveled hundreds of miles to an exotic town south of the border. A mini-honeymoon every time.
But never again. She'd never feel the touch of his hand so gently against her cheek, the brush of lips against her own. She had her memories, and that was all. It was enough. It wouldn't be much longer and they'd be together again.
She glanced over her shoulder at the young man sitting on the other side of the fountain. He looked irritated, angry, glancing at his watch and sighing over and over. When a young woman walked out of the glass shop, he stood with a choppy movement and strode over to her.
She watched the young couple walk away, his hand cupping her arm, not out of any desire to touch her, to keep her close, but rather to guide her the way he wanted her to go. She shook her head. The young, wasting time being upset and angry, never realizing--until it was too late--that the things most precious to them could be taken away in a blink of an eye.
In the last beat of a heart.
With a long sigh, she stood and stretched, then started the short walk back to her car. It was time to go. But she'd be back.
And she'd remember.
The above was inspired by the picture of the fountain (also above) at Tlaquepaque in Sedona.
I'm over at the Amber Quill blog today. If you want a good laugh, come on over and visit! And that's all I'm sayin'...
One joy scatters a hundred griefs. ~ Chinese Proverb
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
This one I'm really excited about! To celebrate its 10-year anniversary, New Concepts Publishing is putting together an anthology to be released this fall. I don't know who all the authors are, but I know who at least one of them is.
The Wolf of Cnoc Meadha is a contemporary erotic romance set in Ireland. Connor mac Finnbheara, the son of Finnbheara, the powerful king of the Daoine Sidhe, is sent on an errand by his mother to locate MacKenzie MacCallum. The queen is concerned about Mackey--the young woman had been a favorite at the king's court many, many years before. A favorite wolfhound, that is. The queen had discovered the king in yet another dalliance with a flighty young fae woman, and in retaliation she turned his favorite hound into a woman. In anger, the king banished Mackey to live in the human realm, never to return to the land of the Fae.
The queen thinks to ease two burdened souls at once: Connor will find Mackey and convince her she's better off as a woman, and Mackey will soothe the prince's troubled heart.
There's just one problem. Centuries before, Connor had been cursed with lycanthropy and, under the full moon, will attack anything Fae. Is Mackey human enough to be safe from harm?
Connor watched her weave a special kind of magic over the crowed, drawing strangers close together so they shared their own stories of faery magic, then she invited people to stroll along the grounds, taking in the ruins of an old chapel and stone fortification along another hilltop two kilometers away. "We'll serve a late lunch," she said, "at about two o'clock, so please come back to the main house for that."
She gave a few more instructions that Connor didn't really hear. His thoughts were filled with images of them together in a variety of carnal activities, all of which involved them getting naked. He wanted to strip those ugly denim pants off her and taste her, needed to bury his rod deep inside her.
Waiting until the tourists had wandered off, he approached her. "This is nice, that the owners open up their property like this."
She turned to face him, the smile on her face faltering before her lips curved once more. This time, though, her expression was clearly forced, which made him wonder out loud, "Do we know each other?"
"No." The deep breath she took plumped her breasts, drawing his gaze to the cleavage visible in the v-neck of her knit top. When she gruffly cleared her throat, he looked back up. A muscle flexed in her jaw. "Feel free to look around with the others, Mr. …?"
"Connor. Connor mac Finnbheara." Watching closely, he saw no spark of recognition in her gaze, although she may have got over the initial shock and was doing better at masking her emotions. He held out his hand and she slowly placed hers within his grasp. When her skin touched his, her brown eyes widened and a pulse in her throat started thrumming, making him want to put his mouth there to feel her heart against his tongue.
He saw her tight nipples pressed against her soft top and decided he'd prefer to have his mouth there. Cocking his head to one side, he tried to picture her naked breasts, wondering if her nipples were the pink of the first hint of sunrise, the soft blush of a fresh peach, or something darker, like rich, ripe berries.
Connor was determined to find out. And seeing the proof of her arousal sent more blood surging to his lengthening cock.
She tugged at her hand, but he held onto it. He'd not had a reaction to a woman like this in a long time--maybe never--and he wasn't about to let loose of her just yet. "And you are …?"
Still trying to get him to release his hold, she muttered, "MacKenzie McCallum."
"Ah, the owner. I'd no idea you'd be so young," he said. "Although I can't shake the feeling that we've met before." Connor searched her face for something--anything--that would shake out a memory.
"You're mistaken," she said, her voice still soft but shot through with a thread of steel. "I'd like my hand back, please."
"And I'd like to hold it awhile yet," he returned, grinning at her deepening scowl. "Did anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you're angry?"
Her lips tightened, but she didn't respond.
"Oh, come now, lass, it's not that big a thing I'm asking of you, is it? Letting a man hold a beautiful woman's hand, standing under the bright sun on the greenest grass this side of Cnoc Meadha." Because he was watching her so closely, he saw the slight dilation of her pupils. His cursed wolf sense caught the acrid odor of rising panic as she began tugging on her hand again.
What was it about him that would cause such a reaction in her?
Thinking he'd get more answers out of her if he wasn't antagonizing her by holding onto her hand, he let go just as she gave a hard yank. With a startled squawk, she flew back and landed on the grass, flat on her rump in the middle of the faery ring.
"For the love of …." Connor stepped between her splayed legs. So much for not antagonizing her. "MacKenzie, are you all right?" This close to her, he could smell the sweet scent of honeysuckle and roses of her perfume, and the vinegary odor of her irritation wafted to the nose of his wolf. There was an underlying aroma that made him lean in closer.
"Are you sniffing me?" She scooted away from him.
She'd put distance between them too late. He recognized the sweetly spicy scent for what it was. She was aroused. By him.
A growl rumbled from his chest and he trapped it in his throat. She was skittish enough as it was. If he started growling at her, she'd slip through his fingers like melted butter. He held out one hand. "Here, let me help you up, lass."
Her brown eyes narrowed. "I've had about all the help from you that I'd like, thanks all the same." Ignoring his offer, she started to get to her feet.
Shaking his head at her obstinance, he bent and cupped her elbow. With a low snarl, she pulled her arm away, losing her balance in the process. Trying to keep her from falling again, he made a grab for her and missed.
This time, when she sprawled on the grass, she was flat on her back and had him on top of her.
Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
May you have warm words on a cold evening, a full moon on a dark night, and the road downhill all the way to your door. ~ Irish Blessing
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 7:01 AM
Monday, June 05, 2006
I've spent the bulk of the weekend updating the look of my website, blog and readers group. While I miss the purple (my favorite color!), I think the new look is sexier. And the more I thought about it, the more I knew I needed to redo my MySpace page to keep everything tied together. (sigh) So, that's what I did. I think I've managed to pull off a sexier look that still manages to be classy.
Also, I've finally settled on my tag: "Follow your passion to the edge... and beyond." It works for me. :)
Today I'm at Love Romances Cafe all day, talking to readers and posting excerpts. Come on over and chat for a bit when you can!
My latest installment of All's Fair is up at Indulgence. Go on over for a free read.
And because I'm having cowboy withdrawal (I haven't posted a pic in a while and I think this one's a repeat, but I don't care. Look at that chest, those abs, those arms. Grrrrrrrowf!) I'm posting this pic for our mutual enjoyment:
"Happiness always looks small while you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and you learn at once how big and precious it is." ~ Maxim Gorky
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 12:03 AM
Sunday, June 04, 2006
It's here! My first release with Amber Quill Press: The Claiming.
As an Intergalactic Marshal, Kassinda Marjani was all about the job. When her brother was imprisoned on trumped-up charges and she was virtually blackmailed into capturing Rhys Valorian... well, she'd bring in the exiled vampire prince and her former lover to save her brother's life. But things don't always go according to plan, and when she and Rhys crash land on a barbaric planet where men cherish their women and see to their pleasure whenever--and wherever--necessary, Kass realizes she might have to move onto Plan B. If only she had a Plan B.
Good thing she has Rhys.
~ ~ ~
An excerpt from THE CLAIMING, Availabe NOW at Amber Quill Press!
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.
Get your copy now!
"One should count each day a separate life." ~ Seneca
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:01 AM
Saturday, June 03, 2006
When my sister was visiting me just a week and a half ago, we had a fire on the Northwest side of Tucson, which my brother and his family could see from their house. Thankfully, it only burned a couple hundred acres before it was contained. At the same time, there was a fire further south in the Chiricahua Mountains. It has since been contained as well.
Now there's a fire burning in Oak Creek Canyon just south of Sedona. About 30 families have been evacuated, and as of last night this fire had consumed 2,000 acres and at least two homes (read "mansion", since one has--or rather, had--a guest house). Because of shifting winds, the fire has changed direction and is now moving away from homes (good news) and into more rugged territory (bad news--it's harder to fight). They've got 300 fire fighters up there trying to gain control.
Paradise has been scorched.
Back here in Tucson, we had storms sort of roll through yesterday evening. I say sort of because I got no rain where I live. Just clouds and the barest rumblings of thunder. (Our forecast yesterday and today call for "dry" thunderstorms.) But less than ten miles south of me there was a microburst (storm) that took out 7 utility poles.
Before I moved to Arizona, I'd never seen this kind of weather. It's beautiful, in a different way--watching the clouds build up over the mountains, sometimes completely obscuring them. Looking out and seeing it raining 25 miles away while standing under clear blue skies.
Every year we have people who have to be rescued from the washes because, despite clear warnings, they drive their vehicles through when the wash is flooded. The depth of the water and strength of the current is just about always underestimated by these folks, who end up having to pay for the expense of their rescue. (This happens because of our "Stupid Motorist" law. No kidding. That's what it's called. Apropos, oui?) And, unfortunately, it seems every year one or two people die because of flash flooding. It's difficult to realize how much water comes rushing down from the mountains. You don't think of it when the valley hasn't had any rain.
Of course, that changes when monsoons fully hit. Then the streets are flooded and if you live in an area that's surrounded by washes, you pretty much just have to wait it out.
It's an interesting time of year in Arizona. Wildfire season overlapped by monsoon season. Keeps us on our toes, that's for sure.
Friday, June 02, 2006
I'm just finishing up a 4-day promotions class, and there's been a lot of talk about branding.
There were three things the presenter kept emphasizing:
1) You need your name to mean something
2) People remember what they heard most recently first
3) Repetition gets you remembered.
Think of these people: Oprah Winfrey, Rush Limbaugh, Howard Stern, Martha Stewart. When you hear these names, you know exactly who they are and what they stand for.
So, I've been thinking. The branding (tagline, slogan, whatever) I've been associating with my name is "Romance With An Edge."
Does that fit? When people see my name, do they think of that? Or is it not catchy enough? I don't want something that would define me too narrowly, but I need something that's not too broad, either.
So, I did a bit of tweaking with the help of the instructor, and this is what I came up with:
Well? What do you think?
(P.S. I'm blogging over at Torrid today, talking about nasty books. Come on over!)
The Master said, "To see what is right and not do it is want of courage." ~ Confucius
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I saw this email and was prepared for the worst. I need to prepare you, too.
You know that alligators, like their cousins the crocodiles, are apex predators--perhaps the apex predator because they can kill both on land and in the water, unlike sharks that are limited to prey in the water, and most big cats that are limited to land prey. However, gaters can still fall victim to a team effort by a pack of dogs. Dogs that, through hundreds (thousands?) of years of breeding and instinct, have a tight-knit social mentality that enhances their hunting abilities.
In the picture below, note that the Alpha male has a muzzle hold on the gater, preventing it from breathing, while the other dogs prevent the reptile from rolling.
I will warn you, this may not be suitable or younger viewers. Of course, I'm not supposed to have younger viewers on this blog, seeing as much of what I have here is of an adult nature...
Courage is fear holding on a minute longer. ~ George S. Patton
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:40 AM