Eleven Reasons Not To Pick Up Knight's Fork!

I'm delighted to welcome Rowena Cherry to join us on Title Magic to tell us about her latest sci fi romance in the series about her ALIEN DJINN royal family.

My thanks to Helen Scott Taylor for inviting me to write a guest blog about Knight's Fork, and also to Savanna (your chocolates are in the mail) for the warm welcome, and also for the inspiration to do my own version of a Don't Buy list.



ELEVEN REASONS NOT TO PICK UP KNIGHT'S FORK

11. Disrespectful words such as tallywacker and joystick are used with reference to male body parts

10. It's long. (Not the tallywacker—well, it is, but you don't wish to know that—I meant the book.) Knight's Fork has 340 pages, and most new Chapters do not begin on a fresh page.

9. It has a Prologue and an Epilogue. That's two beginnings, and two endings!

8. It's going to take about eight hours to read.

7. The hero is a 28-year old virgin and proud of it.

6. The heroine is locked in a chastity belt, and she doesn't have a key

5. The family tree is so complicated they needed to spread it over two pages.

4. If you read in bed, your significant other might be disturbed by your giggles and snorts.

3. The F- word is used, but only by villains, and only in conversation

2. If you read it in public, someone may ask why the naked man on the cover is lying in a puddle

1. If you don't read every paragraph, you may ask yourself why the naked man is lying in a puddle.


IMHO, my "Eleven Reasons…" is the perfect companion piece to my Mission Statement.

I write to entertain… myself and others. I expect to provide my readers with six to eight hours of amusement, a couple of really good laughs, a romantic frisson or two from the sensual scenes, something to think about when the book is finished, a thoroughly satisfying happy ending, and possibly some useful information.

For a start, the list is more amusing, but makes substantially the same points about what I write, and what my weaknesses (or strengths) are. Secondly, I seem to have been officially saddled with "wacky" as a one of the twenty most important words describing Knight's Fork.

I don't think a seriously humorous futuristic romance about a Knight on a quest, a Queen in search of a sperm donor, and a right royal scandal is … that… so I should very much like to condition booksellers and librarians to read "wacky" and think "tallywacker".

Do you think it is doable?
Do you think that is wise?

From the heroine's point of view:

Knight's Fork is about a Queen whose life depends upon giving her King an heir. (Very Ann Boleyn!!!) The problem is that she is an alien on his world, and they are genetically incompatible. She cannot fake a pregnancy and adopt, because these hairless aliens don't wear clothes.

She needs a sperm donor! One who doesn't advertise. One who is the soul of discretion. Only one green-eyed god-Prince has the right stuff.

From 'Rhett's point of view, the last thing he wants is to become entangled in any sense of the word with an Imperial Princess who is not only an enemy King's consort, but Tarrant-Arragon's sister. He has no desire to play a latter day Prince Paris to her Helen of Troy.

The Magic of Chocolate Chip Cookies

First, everyone, I just checked our calendar for Title Magic. And, yay, I’m so excited. The fantastic Rowena Cherry will be blogging with us tomorrow. She is the author of FORCED MATE and INSUFFICIENT MATING MATERIAL ~ with her latest release being: KNIGHT’S FORK. A few days ago I had the privilege of reading her excerpts and I absolutely can’t wait to read all of her books.

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I’ve always believed chocolate chip cookies were magical. So, why wouldn’t I include these gooey perfect goodies in one (actually several) of my stories.
Volcano, my hero in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS has developed a fondness for the heroine’s baking skill. Whenever he taps into her memory, he can’t quite re-create the baked goodies his Sedona craves, and hasn’t enjoyed for years, from the cherubim ethers...at least, not as well as Sedona can bake them up by using the ‘manna’ ingredients he provides from the heavenly storehouse.
So, for fun, and because recipes came up as a way to promo our books on the Siren-BookStrand Author blog ~ I came up with this scene, which occurs after the novel ends, and coordinates with Book II, tentatively titled: Butch Volcano and the Sundance Angel ~
And, yes, Virginia, this scene has some adult moments...it ain’t all chewy goodness and chocolate chips...beware, if you care...

Manna Chocolate Chip Cookies

Spring 2013 after Winter 2012 in WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS

The acrid dust of the long-deserted town filled Sedona’s nostrils, and swirled around them as Volcano slowed his superspeed cycle. They’d rolled through the arid high-elevation of Free Wyoming Territory, what had once been the state of Nevada, for most of the morning.
Now the sun made a brief appearance, a hazy disc of white light above them in a sky which reminded Sedona of the term ‘gray goo’.
"High noon." Sedona spoke once Volcano halted the cycle next to an antique hitching post.
"Gun on my hip, Missy." Volcano shaped his hand like a pistol and planted it on his hip. "Bang." He aimed toward the old west saloon.
The ephemeral spark from his fingertip struck the building, restoring it inside to pristine, yet leaving it the same on the outside.
"Missy? And just what kind of wicked entertainments are you going to want from me, top gun?" she throatily crooned close to his ear.
At the same time Baby Aru poked his head out of his travel bag, and yawned. He pricked his ears, then yipped a small adorable sound.
"First, Missy, you’ll bake me some of those chocolate chip cookies you’ve been talkin’ about craving." Removing his helmet, Volcano whipped around.
"Ooooh, such a demanding cherub," Sedona taunted. "Summon up the manna ingredients, fire up the oven and I’ll bake for you. This time."
Taking her helmet off swiftly, Volcano caught her mouth in a delicious hard kiss. The next moment he twisted back around, and Sedona knew he scanned for any enemy presence using his celestial powers.
"Come on, precious baby, I’ll take you for a stroll around town." As she lifted Aru out, he wiggled sweetly, his dark eyes bright with happiness. "That is, if your daddy says it’s okay."
Leaning over, Sedona set ‘her baby’ down on the cracked hard-packed ground that had once been Main Street. The town had been built as a movie set and for tourism. "Such a big boy now," she praised, then swung off the cycle.
Staying close to her, Aru sniffed, nose to the ground, waiting for Volcano’s signal. He adored running like a wild bush thing, but had learned patience. Always a joy to watch, Aru loved playing with them, his antics agile and impossibly cute.
"Main Street is safe. Only Main Street," Volcano reinforced for Aru’s benefit.
Bounding ahead of them like a gazelle, their ‘baby’ soon shot forward, racing full speed down Main Street, small spurts of dust in his wake.
Dismounting, Volcano wrapped his arm around Sedona’s waist, and claimed her close to his side. Aiming his finger he sent the cycle inside the saloon.
Sedona turned toward him from watching Aru, and caressed her palm up his chest. "What’s going on?"
"Need some communing time, precious woman." Volcano stroked up her back in a way that curled her toes and her hormones. "The Dark Minions are closing in on our target."
"The hidden gold," she murmured. In the following moment Sedona could smell the unique warm fragrance of gold. She leaned her forehead on the strength of his chest. "Your abilities are rubbing off on me."
"Yes, we’re close." He cuddled her close and cupped her head, caressing. "No, your abilities are expanding."
"What next, cherub?" Lifting her gaze, she let his purple silvery eyes penetrate down to her soul.
"Walk with Aru, my Sedona. You’ll know when to return." He stroked up her arms, and drew her to him. Tenderly, he touched a kiss to her forehead. "Then, you’ll bake for me," he growled.
"Yes, oh great demanding cherub," she mocked.
Swinging her beside him, Volcano slapped her butt smartly. Instantly, her body softened and heated to wild need, annoying her no end. With her nipples points of ache for him, she craved his lovemaking far more than she’d been craving chocolate chip cookies–the way she used to make them before martial law hell had taken over the world.
"Who would have thought an angelic being could be so...so, male-primitive!" Sedona glared, then quickly stomped away before he swatted her again.
You love it, he arrogantly asserted in her mind. It makes you steamy sexy hot. Like in those romance novels we found.
Hate it! She threw back to him telepathically, and quickened her pace.
An instant later the ethereal feel of his lips kissing her cheek caused her to smile. As she jogged toward Aru, her fingertips brushed where his kiss lingered. The rustling squeaks of dying buildings surrounded her, while the weaving breezes caused ghost-like moans. From what she sensed there were no discarnate souls left behind.
Having completed his first exploration, Aru circled and dashed back to her. Knowing she would run with him, then cuddle him when he decided to jump into her arms, he pranced toward her, his neck arched. As it always did, her heart flowed toward him with absolute love.
"Your daddy is so bad, sometimes. He knows exactly how to manhandle me." She rubbed her bottom still feeling Volcano’s sensual mark on her. "Make that carnal-handle me."
Bending at the waist, she met Aru’s dainty kiss with her own. "A chip off the daddy Volcano block, that’s what you are," she cooed, then straightened. "You know just how to handle me too."
Backing up Aru flipped his curled tail, then spun on a dime, his invitation for her to chase him. Sedona leapt into a run, her strides natural and strong, the feeling glorious. Her physique had transformed beyond her body’s peak as a mortal human.
For several minutes she sprinted and darted after Aru, who enjoyed his own cleverness at avoiding her.
Soon he teased her, circling like a dervish, then catching her hand with a gentle touch of his fangs. Quickly they whirled back and forth, playing their game of doggie martial arts as Sedona called it. Until Volcano’s message suddenly took over her mind, Come now.
"Aru," she commanded. Instantly, he launched into her arms. He clung as Sedona ran back to the saloon, the safety zone Volcano had created for them.
Volcano stood at the entrance, and once they entered, he sealed it with a sparkling burst of power.
"Safe." He beamed a reassuring smile. "The Dark Minions are psychically sweeping this area. They’ll ignore this blip of energy, but not the entire town."
Sedona nodded, then kissed her baby dog, and set him down. Aru vigorously shook, then began an ambling investigation of his surroundings.
"The oven is fired up." Hope gleamed in the cherub’s eyes.
Sedona tilted her chin, then Mae West cocked her hip. "I think you’re addicted to my baking."
"Yes." He snatched her close, so strongly her breath flew in shallow pants. "I’m addicted to your baking and your essence. Only in a heavenly way," he added, the grin began in his eyes, before it formed on his too sexy mouth. "Gonna bake for me, Missy? Or do I take you upstairs and make you wear a corset for my debaucheries on your innocent flesh?"
"Innocent?" Goddess, she couldn’t breathe, as if she wore a laced up corset.
"Innocent of what I’m plannin’," he growled, his eyes smoldering like supernatural embers.
"What if I like your ‘debauchery’ offer better?" Each word had seemed heaved from her bosom, despite the triteness of the image.
"Then, little Missy, no debauchery until I’ve had my manna chocolate chip cookies."
"Oh, well, in that case, top gun, I’ll have to surrender. Take me to the kitchen. Is there a kitchen?"
Volcano scooped her up in his arms, carrying her. Sedona’s head whirled and she wondered if she’d regain enough concentration to recall how she’d made her specialty cookies.
"The kitchen is straight out of a 90's cooking magazine, little Missy," he answered, elbowing open a huge swinging white door. "When this was a tourist town."
"Dang it, cherub, you boil up my libido something awful, then expect me to bake for you."
"You’re hungry, remember?" With infinite care, his gaze cherishing her, he set her down.
"Yeah, I remember."
Still feeling light-headed, Sedona brought her arm up to her brow. She did need to eat, despite her ongoing transformation. And he was making certain she did. Not that her carnal adorable cherub wasn’t constantly after her to bake for him, once he’d discovered the difference in taste between what he could manifest from her memory, and what she actually baked. No, he asked every time they stopped at a place with a useable kitchen. And his eyes always flamed like a thousand hopeful candles.
Her head clearing, she pivoted, and saw the neatly arranged ingredients he’d retrieved from the ethers, or the manna storehouse as he referred to it. She moved toward the counter, a grin spreading on her face at how he’d created the packaging and the containers. Not that she couldn’t tell what was what. But the honeybear looked like a Grizzly bear ready to attack and the chocolate chip package was as large as a pillow, taking up most of the space.
"Where’s the jar of cloud, o cherub one?" Sedona positioned the stainless mixing steel bowl, and picked up the large spoon she preferred.
"No cloud taste needed, Missy. Just your essence mixed in the dough as you mix." He presented the stick of butter on a small plate, then floated it into the bowl.
"You are becoming the perfect assistant. And, to think, I always baked alone before." Sedona reached for the Grizzly bear. "It doesn’t bite, does it?"
She poured out a tablespoon of the golden dark liquid from the bear’s snarling mouth.
"No. Biting happens later," he smugly returned.
Smoothing his palm over her butt cheek, he lightly pinched. Sedona flared with passion, and felt the juiciness of her sex. Setting the Grizzly bear down, she grabbed the bottle of molasses. Brier rabbit never looked better, his coloring bold and more realistic than on the original bottle.
"Then we mate like rabbits." The words slipped out before she could halt them. Her cheeks steaming, she quickly poured out a tablespoon of molasses. "What kind of nut butter?" she asked, making herself think about what she was doing.
"Almond, my favorite." He spooned in the half cup of almond nut butter, then added two tablespoons of coconut oil. "I could summon up a playboy bunny costume," he naughtily teased.
"So very thoughtful of you. Me, dressed up like a playboy bunny serving you chocolate chip cookies. Your idea of heaven?" Sedona reached for the salt shaker. Carefully she shook a couple of times.
"Bed cookie crumbs, my idea of heaven," he purred close to her ear.
Ignoring her shiver of desire, Sedona picked up the bowl, and spun toward him. "Oven melting or divine melting?"
Placing his hands beneath the bowl, Volcano warmed up the butter until it was liquefied.
"Perfect." Sedona set the bowl down and whipped the spoon around.
"How many cups of brown sugar?" he asked, dipping in the measure cup.
"Two heaped cups." Stirring briskly once he put in the brown sugar, she watched for the consistency she preferred, almost caramel-like. "Two eggs next, my assistant." Gazing at the beautiful brown eggs, she asked, "Manna chickens?"
"No, the manna egg comes before the chicken."
"Yeah, yeah." Sedona giggled.
Volcano suspended the eggs over her bowl, cracking them in unison. Once again, she stirred until there was a whipped appearance to her ingredients. "Did the chocolate come before the chip. Or the chip before the chocolate?"
"Chocolate chips originated in the mind of heaven first," he promptly replied.
"Really?"
"A gift to humankind. How many?"
"I’ve never counted the individual chips," she drily joked.
"You said you liked a lot of chips."
"I did, o cherub mine. Are we taking the bag with us?"
"Manna storage. Don’t need to." He opened the giant bag, then poised the measuring cup.
The aroma of dark chocolate liquor saturated the air, a pure divine pleasure. Sedona closed her eyes, and simply inhaled. "Goddess, I’ve missed that smell."
"We’ll take the bag with us." His voice was barely above purr.
"Twelve ounces," she instructed, sizzling softly over his sweet caring for her. "I think that’s two cups."
He poured in the dark chocolate chips while she slowly stirred, then asked. "How much flour, Missy?"
"Usually two cups. Is it half whole wheat and half unbleached, manna style?"
"Created according to your memory, my Sedona." He scooped out a cup from the old-fashioned, heavy paper bag.
"Looks like a perfect creation," she praised. "Put in one cup first."
Sedona stirred in the flour, and suddenly remembered what it had been like before in her life. A few unbidden tears dripped down her nose.
Volcano gently took the bowl from her. "Another cup?" he asked, handing her a small towel.
Sedona nodded, sniffled, then wiped her eyes. "You want practice stirring, assistant?"
With what could only described as joy, he dumped in another cup of flour, and stirred as she’d done. Picking up the cookie tray, she set it in front of her on the counter.
"Big fat cookies?" he asked, spooning out a large portion of the cookie dough.
"What else?" Sedona watched him plop the dough on the tray, then checked the oven’s temperature. "Three fifty ought to do it. And probably about ten to fifteen minutes, depending on how soft and gooey you like them."
"How you like them, my woman." He held out is dough-covered finger. "Want to lick it off?"
"Isn’t that what you said last night?"
************************************
For the recipe visit ~ Author Recipe ~ Manna Chocolate Chip Cookies ~

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ http://savannakougar.com ~

WHEN A GOOD ANGEL FALLS ~ Where Angels Fear to Tread, 2012 Earth ~ available from BookStrand ~
http://www.bookstrand.com/authors/savannakougar/wagaf.asp ~ http://www.bookstrand.com/

Life in the Day...

Some books, some images, stay with you.
Most likely, everyone reading this blog is a reader. Perhaps, again most probably, this love affair with reading started young. I come from a mountain family, and we were poor. I didn’t learn to read until after I went to school because my Mama wouldn’t have thought to teach us herself—what do we pay teachers for? I learned fast, though. In first grade, I learned to read. In second grade, I remember feeling jealous because the Claunch twins got moved up a grade and I didn’t. By third grade, I was writing poetry and by fourth, I was reading everything my little elementary had available.
Even though we wore hand-me-down dresses in the 70s when skirts were made for flashing, my Mama found the money to order books. And I kept my favorites. Now, my daughter and I are reading them together. We’re three-quarters of the way done with Heidi. She’s reading my copy of The Little Miss of Virginia very carefully—the pages are falling out. We read The Five Little Peppers and then, without knowing it was outside of Boston, visited the author’s house. The house Louisa May Alcott also had lived in at one time before her father went bankrupt. And, yes, I read every book she wrote and kept most of them. My eleven-year old is not as much into Little Women and Little Men as I was, but they are there on her shelf.
Where is this leading? First of all, I thought I’d share my joy in sharing these books with my child. Second, it’s not just children’s books that stay.
I just finished taking an online course about metaphors. I love metaphors. The instructor cited—and I remembered vividly—a scene in For Whom the Bell Tolls. The hero is an American helping fight the rebels in the Spanish Civil War. He falls in love with a fellow guerrilla. The day before she is killed in battle (I could be getting some of the details wrong, it’s been over two decades), they make love. He literally loses a sense of time and it is as if the earth moves.
Now, today, the earth moving is a dead, worn out cliché. When Hemingway wrote those words, no one had made that analogy before.
How did he do it? Well, obviously, I’m not Hemingway, but here’s my thought…use simple words to say something you felt so deeply nothing else entered your mind. Use rhythm in your words to indicate the beat of the character’s movements. Repeat words if the action is repetitive, don’t if there’s speed and action.
“For him it was a dark passage which led to nowhere, then to nowhere, then again to nowhere, once again to nowhere…this time and again…time absolutely still…and he felt the earth move out and away from them.
My wish for you is to create a simple metaphor will resound through your audience—and they will remember the picture in their heads a lifetime later. A big wish, but why not?
What hints/suggestions/thoughts do you all have for writing fresh?

Britain gets Electric

The electronic age finally came to the UK on September 4 this year. A well-known brand of e-book reader went on sale at a high street bookstore chain. Is it going to revolutionise the way that we Brits read?

That’s an interesting question.

You can get a very cosy armful of conventional books for the electronic reader’s retail price. Probably enough to keep a romance reader happy for five or six months. Will shoppers still prefer to go for print rather than hardware? Vogue magazine has put the reader on its “must have” list, but will most people see it as just a trendy, expensive toy?

There certainly weren't hordes of people lining up behind me when I was prodding the display model, on its special stand, in the centre of my nearest shop, but apparently sales have been very brisk. It would be fun to know who is buying it. Older readers with more disposable income, or strictly the youthful gadget lovers?

I would guess that a lot of people over here don’t realise yet that you can download new and original e-books from the Internet and don't just have to settle for preloaded stuff, or an electronic copy of a conventional paper volume, bought from a bookshop. I admit I assumed that the preloaded texts that come with the reader would be worthy and obscure offerings selected by some sort of academic committee - in other words, a bit boring. I was wrong, because one of those already on the reader is English Lord, Ordinary Lady, from award-winning, Harlequin Mills and Boon author Fiona Harper, so romance lovers are guaranteed at least one excellent read, before they have to put their toe into downloading more.

I think, if you stopped a hundred people on a British street today, not many would know that there are publishing companies that release their output almost entirely in e-book form, and they wouldn't have any idea of the wonderful wealth of titles out there. That may soon change as e-books get more publicity on radio and TV.

So what about the future? Is the e-book reader destined to be shunted into a gadget sideline? I hope not. Me? Yes, of course I want one. I'm saving my pennies. As soon as I can afford it I shall be there, with my money in my hot little in hand. I hope they won't have sold out before I get there.

The Devil's In the Details

THE DEVIL’S IN THE DETAILS

by Pat Cunningham

So I’ve got my opening scene. The hero arrives at Philadelphia Airport. He spots the heroine burning something in an ashtray. Turns out she’s a witch, and she’s casting a protection spell on her boyfriend’s plane to ensure him a safe flight. And the plot’s off and running.
But –
Plausibility time. Is this scene believable? Not the witchcraft. The other stuff. In these paranoid times, is it possible to start a fire, even a tiny one, in an airport ashtray without security swooping down on you? Do they even have ashtrays any more, given Pennsylvania’s recent ban on tobacco use in public places? (Our Heroine’s first words to Our Hero: “I wasn’t smoking.”)
Not to mention the story’s set in a real city, populated by real people, including real readers just waiting to pounce on any little fallacy. Worse yet, the hero’s British, and his speech will have to reflect that. On top of everything else I now have to bone up on current British slang so I get all the idioms right.
And that’s roughly the first two pages.
Not so long ago I came across a fantasy story with an opening set in Ephrata, Pennsylvania. The protag stopped at a strip mall at the Route 222/322 interchange. I forget what happened next, because I live in Ephrata, Pennsylvania, and when I drove up 322 the other day there was no strip mall at the 222 exit. There’s a Wal-Mart and an Arby’s, and a truck stop across the street. Before that it was farmland. If you want to go to a strip mall in Ephrata, you have to drive down the old road, Route 272, on the other side of town. The writer should have called me first and asked.
Did I have a good laugh at that writer’s expense? You betcha. Would I buy a book by that author? Not likely.
Okay, mistakes of that nature aren’t exactly earth-shattering, not like if he’d put tigers in Africa or had carnivorous cows. The world didn’t end just because he got Ephrata’s geography wrong. It may actually have been a good story. I’ll never know because I didn’t finish it. That opening threw me right off.
This is why I sweat the small stuff. If enough people get thrown off too many times they may never trust me again.
Suppose I put South Street in Germantown. You think Philadelphia would ever forgive me? I don’t want a major US city mad at me. One stupid mistake, like having a poodle shed on the rug (poodles don’t shed), and they’re all over you, and your credibility is toast.
No wonder writers make up towns to set their stories in. Or why Stephen King sets most of his books in his Maine backyard. Write what you know, and if you don’t know, you’d damn well better find out.
Luckily for me, I live within a two-hour drive of Philly, and can hop in the car for a day trip to check out whatever I can’t dig up on the Net. Such as whether or not there are any deer in Fairmount Park so my werewolf hero can hunt them. Otherwise the heroine’s going to have to drive him out to Valley Forge, and the poor guy’ll be clutching the door handle in a panic because she’s speeding down – to him – the wrong side of the road. The devil’s in the details, but so is the fun. Happy researching!

THE BIG IMPORTANT NEWS!!!
Pat’s short story the ‘SNAKE IN THE GLASS’ will be featured in the #7 issue of Beneath Ceaseless Skies, NEW YEAR’S DAY edition.

How wintery cool is that for all those hibernating serpents? And kewl for all the humans who want to curl up with a great story this winter.

Personal Note: Nope, poodles don't shed. They're just horrendous to brush out when their owners let their coats get matted. I know! I could write a book about it!

American Title V

We write, you vote, love conquers.

That's the strapline chosen by the eight finalists in this year's American Title contest.

Voting won't be starting for a while yet, but already the finalists have guest appearances lined up on Sylvia Day's fantastic blog - where all ten Title Magicians were interviewed last year.

And, of course, we'll all be here on Title Magic.

I'll be talking to Mel about my second AT finaling entry Never Coming Home.

I plan to have even more fun, second time around. Keep dropping in to Title Magic to find out the latest.

Nina Pierce ~ Blue Moon Rising

Hi Title Magicians, it’s no secret I have a yen for those furry, fluffy and wild shape-shifters, since I write stories about them myself. And it’s no secret to Nina I love her title, Blue Moon Rising, and her story in the Furry, Fluffy and Wild anthology.
So, I asked Liquid Silver Books’ authoress extraordinairre, Nina Pierce, for her blurb and excerpt, even though she can’t be with us today.
The question of why so many of us authors and readers are fond of beastie shapeshifter tales has been asked and answered many times over. Yet, I’m always fascinated about what others have to say, and what they reveal about why they hunger for these kind of romance stories.
The power, the fiercer passion and the animalistic nature of the hero and heroines are the top reasons given. For example, what would it feel like to be a wolf or wolfess at the height of your physical strength, stamina and prowess? As a kid I would pretend to be different animals. I had no time for baby dolls, and not much time for Barbie. So for me, it’s natural to write about being human and animal, about being able to shift into various forms.
Of course, that certainly may not be true for other authors in the genre. I don’t know.
What I do know is that Nina Pierce has an absolute gift for creating a wonderful erotic love story, and writes with a lyrical simplicity that is awesome.
Nina first visited Title Magic, as a new author, with her very first published book, The Healer’s Garden, which has garnered the acclaim of reviewers. More importantly, the readers adore her futuristic story. Just as the readers have gobbled up Nina’s three-book contemporary series, Blind Love, Love’s Bounty and Arranging Love ~ The Tilling Passion’s series.
By the way, the three Tilling sisters’ covers are to seriously die for. Or, my suggestion, just swoon onto that lovely salon lounge, and wait mere moments for the perfect hero to arrive, smelling salts in hand.
Hey, it’s worth a try.

Blue Moon Rising in the Furry, Fluffy and Wild Anthology
ISBN: 978-1-59578-480-3
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books

Could a woman’s past decide a man’s future?

Tension between the cougar and wolf shifters in Lonesome Fork, Montana is spiraling out of control. With the full moon only days away and fear and the body count rising, Chief of Police, and head of the wolf shifter council, Cole Takoda is trying to bring peace to both humans and shifters alike. But with the head of the cougar council, Kurt Hansley, thwarting his attempts, it appears nothing will heal the growing rift. When orphan Jayda Kynslan strolls into town, rumors of polymorphic shifters come to life begin to circulate.
Two men want to claim Jayda as mate: one will stand with her and unite the shifter clans; the other will possess her and reign supreme over the human population. With the Blue Moon Rising Jayda’s decision will determine the future for all of them.

Adult Excerpt:

Cole stared at Jayda’s ass as she sashayed her way to the door. Damn, she had him hot under the collar. He’d wanted to follow her immediately, but the tented fly of his Levi’s would make their intention a little obvious. It wouldn’t do for the Chief of Police to be caught in a compromising situation. When she’d bent in close, the scent and heat of her overwhelming his senses, his body had jumped to attention. Decorum and judicious prudence aside, he needed to be with her. Had she known she’d have that effect? Was this some kind of setup?
He finished his beer in one great swallow and banged it down on the bar just as the door closed behind Jayda. She hadn’t even turned around to see if he was following. Maybe she hadn’t meant what she’d said. Part of him hoped that was the case. Then he’d only have to see her safely to her car, and this whole thing would be over. There was only one way to find out what she intended. His cock led the way.
"Hey, champ, it’s cold outside. You’ll need this." Aaron stood at the entry between the two rooms holding Cole’s leather jacket. The smile on his face was nonjudgmental.
"Shit," Cole said as he snatched the jacket and shrugged into it. They’d been friends since their days on the reservation. Aaron would be the only one who’d know it was lust as much as fear contorting his face.
Aaron smiled. "Shit is right. Be careful, man."
Now that he’d made the decision, Cole headed for the door. He wondered if he’d waited too long, and she’d left. That thought moved him more quickly. He’d have no way of finding Jayda if she walked out his life tonight. He had no intention of letting that happen until he knew exactly what had brought her to Lonesome Fork.
The night air slapped him in the face the moment he walked out the door. He scanned the lot, panic sweeping through him with each pass.
"Over here." Jayda’s quiet voice called from around a truck parked in front of the tavern and off to his right. He smiled at her from the other side of the hood.
"I wasn’t sure you’d come."
The brassy woman who’d propositioned him in the bar had once again morphed into a timid debutante. If not for her voice and the breathtaking smile she flashed, he wouldn’t have known the bashful person holding keys in her hands was capable of offering an uninhibited sexual escapade in her car.
"Jayda, why don’t we go sit in my car?" Reason found its way back to his consciousness. "It’s in the back corner away from the lights." Police Chiefs didn’t boff strangers in the parking lot of the local tavern. But no one could fault him for finding a place for a quiet chat with a suspicious stranger, and at this moment, conversation was all he intended.
"Sure." She lifted a shoulder with the lilt in her voice.
She came around the back of the truck, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. Jayda laid her head in the crook of his shoulder. She molded against him like her body had been made for his.
Cole’s body reacted again to her proximity; the blood rushing to his dick made it hard to think like a gentleman. "We don’t have to do this. I’d understand if you want to back out."
Stopping, she looked up at him. "You don’t want to?"
"No, I ... I mean, yes." Damn, this woman tied his tongue in knots. "What I mean is ... if you’re having second thoughts about being alone with me..."
Her hand snaked into the front of his jacket and pinched his nipple. "Not even sort of. Now, which car is yours?"
Cole hit the button on the remote starter, and the lights flashed.
Jayda clapped her hands and ran into the shadows. "Oh, such a shame, you have bucket seats, I guess we’ll have to snuggle in the back." She didn’t even turn around before climbing in, her curvaceous ass disappearing a moment before he reached the Saab.

Here's the trailer addie. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjjHo0jIDPg ~

Visit Nina at her website: http://ninapierce.com ~

Also, I will be Nina’s guest author on her blog, Around the Writer’s Block ~ on November 10... uh, from the interviews I’ve big-time enjoyed, I know Nina’s not afraid to tie her guests up and use all sorts of inducements to gain their creative cooperation...uh-oh...