Tag Archives: Author Spotlight

Wrong place, right time? ‘Fresh off the Starship’ #humor #WomensFic #SciFi @ann_crawford1 @GoddessFish

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to Ann Crawford and her story Fresh off the Starship!

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I’m a fun-loving, world-traveling, high-flying, deep-diving, and living-to-the-max author of eight books. When I’m not flying planes, scuba diving, climbing every mountain (on the back of my husband’s motorcycle) or riding the world’s fastest roller coasters, you can find me in my writing nest with a view of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains out the window. I’ve lived all over–from both oceans white with foam, to the prairie, and now to the mountain. Yes, a little backwards, but what the hey.

My bestselling and award-winning novels go as high and deep as I do—they’re profound yet funny; playful although poignant; heart-opening and heart-lifting; thought-provoking and inspiring; and edgy while universal. I’m also a screenwriter and award-winning filmmaker and humanitarian.

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Website ## Amazon Author Page ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Pinterest ## Goodreads ## Instagram ## Linkedin

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I asked Ann Crawford, “What is the best and most rewarding thing you find about being a writer? Want to share what you think is the worst and most frustrating thing you find about being a writer?” and here is the response.

This is such a great question. The best thing about being a writer, for me, is all these wild, wonderful, way-out-there characters who come knocking on the doorway to my mind, saying, “Write my story!” How could I refuse?

I have to be a writer…there’s nothing else I would do (well, given that I don’t have a rockstar singing voice, LOL). In all honesty, though, it’d be like not breathing.

Writing is not the easiest of paths, however. I actually tried not writing for a while, trying the “practical” route. Ha! That worked like a charm—not.

The hardest part is the amount of time it can take to get established plus the seemingly endless marketing authors have to do, even when traditionally published.

My favorite part is hearing feedback from readers. Writing is the gift I love to give; when readers tell me about how my books have touched them, made them laugh, and lightened up their day, well…that is one of the best feelings of my life.

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Love to laugh? You’ll enjoy this feel-good tale.

A starbeing skyrockets to Earth from the other side of forever with a specific assignment: to help steer humanity away from the collision course it’s on. But we all know how travel can get drastically diverted–instead of landing in Washington, D.C., where she could assist on a grand geopolitical scale, she ends up in…Kansas!

Wrong place, right time? Join our shero on this whimsical journey as she pursues her purpose as well as discovers the beauty of life and love on Earth.

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Matt hands her a large drink with a little mountain of fluffy white stuff on top, with stripes of brown dripping down the mountainsides.

“Here, got you extra whipped cream and lots of car’mul on top, just the way you like it.”

Missy takes a lick of the whipped cream and her eyes go wide. “Oh!”

“Well, yer not supposed to lick it like an ice-cream cone. Sip it.”

She does and then slaps her hand on the table.

“Missy! You okay?”

“Oh, my! How can you beings ever complain about anything?”

“How’s that now?”

“Nothing.” She takes another sip and moans again. Several customers seated nearby look over at her.

“Missy, sweetheart, can you calm yourself a bit?”

She takes a bite of the round treat on a stick he’d set down by her. The moans escalate.

“Geez,” Matt says, trying to sink farther into his seat, “I feel like I’m straight out of When Harry Met Sally.”

“Who’s Harry? Who’s Sally?”

“The main characters in one of yer favorite movies. You made me watch it at least half a dozen times.”

She takes another sip and bite. The moans escalate even more. By this time everyone in the café is looking at her.

“Missy! Perhaps we should eat these in the car.”

“Wherever you want!”

The customers in the café receive one more rendition of “Ohhhhhhhh!” as Matt leads her out the door and she takes another sip of her drink.

Okay, maybe it’s not thaaaat bad here.

~ * ~ BUY ~ * ~

Amazon: US The book will be on sale for only $0.99.

~ * ~ GIVEAWAY ~ * ~

Ann Crawford will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. CLICK HERE to enter to Win! Readers, follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates and places can be found here: Tour Schedule

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Ann Crawford, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

may bring it all together or destroy everything ‘Spice & Vanilla’ #Gay #BDSM @KatherineWyvern @evernightpub

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to Katherine Wyvern and her story Spice & Vanilla!

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Katherine is a gipsy soul who lived in Italy, Norway, Germany, France and Spain but mostly in some private universe of her own. She still lives a nomad life between Dordogne and Catalonia, with a tipi as a home and her boots and a horse as only means of transport.

She’s worked as a printer, a welder and a gardener, and been writing since she can remember, mostly poetry, fantasy and erotica, sometimes mixed together in weird ways.

Nowadays, when not busy with walking, horse-whispering or dream-weaving, she is usually painting, embroidering or working her backbone off in the pastures.

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Website ## Blog ## Twitter ## Facebook ## Instagram

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Hello, and thank you so much for having me here today to talk about my new release, Spice & Vanilla. This is the darker, naughtier sister of my previous release, Woman as a Foreign Language, but it can be read as a complete stand alone.

The BDSM element in Spice and Vanilla came about in part because I had just finished reading Katerina Ross’ beautiful novel Tenderly Wicked, so I was in the mood for something a bit spicier than my previous release, and partly because I had this idea for Raphael, the main character, that he would be “in two minds about anything”. He’s gender-fluid, bisexual, and as it turns out, a switch (he is in fact the sort of character that can piss off absolutely every reader on earth, lol).

I always like sex scenes to carry some of the character building in my stories. I think sex is one of the most visceral things we do in life, and the way we have sex with different people and different sex with the same people at different times can say a lot about us, about our feelings for our partners and where we are in a relationship. You can put so much more than smut in a sex scene (although a good amount of smut is most welcome), and when you stray into BDSM that potential for character exploration rises tenfold, because there are so many more layers to it. Why do we feel the need, in a caring, loving relationship, for giving or receiving pain? Why do power and humiliation become a turn on, even a necessity, at certain times? And can these things add more to our relationships than just a passing kinky thrill? Can they possibly become a way to express feelings we don’t have words for? I do not pretend to have full answers to these questions, but I did enjoy searching for them in the company of such complex characters as Raphael and Hugh.

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Time was, when Di could dance all night. Time was, when she could ride any horse in the stable. Time was when she had a fiancée, a future and a home she loved. Until a silver SUV came out of nowhere and broke her life in half.

Well concealed under a sarcastic, spiny hide, Hugh has a darkly romantic, passionate soul. Torn between love and terror, he’s held the talented, elegant, magnetic Raphael carefully at arm’s length since the day they met.

Male or female, men or women, kinky or sweet, top or bottom? Angel or devil? Raphael’s life is a string of unanswered questions. And Lucie, his long-hidden female self, may bring it all together or destroy everything he has.

Be warned: cross-dressing, gender-queer, explicit M/M and M/F sex, anal sex, spanking, flogging, bondage, forced orgasm, sex toys

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Hugh watched him stroking away with great contentment. He was totally worn out after a crazy day at work, and it was not always easy to find the energy to satisfy such an enthusiastic masochist. There were days when he wished Raphael were a bit less fond of being spanked and whipped, but he always did his best to oblige him. The thought of his Raphael going out there looking for release from God-only-knows-whom, and getting hurt for real by some less scrupulous or talented Dom was just unbearable. Still, tonight he would lie back and relax. Mostly. I will have to help him eventually, he thought with a slightly evil grin, but I can take a breather first.

Raphael stroked in perfect tempo. He was one of the most technically exact musicians Hugh had ever played with, after all. Too exact, in fact.

It would do him so much good to let go a bit, to just go with the flow, be wild and imprecise and purely passionate. Then he would not need so much of this.

Tick—tock—tick—tock—tick—tock, went the metronome, and Raphael stroked and stroked. It was a good while before Hugh could tell, from a small furrow between those blond eyebrows, that the unchanging, slow rhythm was beginning to frustrate him. He smiled a bit wider and said nothing, devouring his beautiful quarry with his eyes. He watched, entranced the fluid play of flesh and skin as Raphael’s long pale cock, a nice ruddy purple by now, sank and reemerged into and from his fist, the velvet-like foreskin lapping beautifully over the shinier, silky glans, the testicles bouncing softly to the rhythm as the scrotum was pulled up and released. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw the whole scene to the devil and just take that cock in his mouth and suck it empty.

This is without exception the best use a metronome was ever put to.

Raphael’s body was developing a number of small, charming tics and twitches. He briefly lifted his left knee from the mattress then relaxed again. His right wrist was pulling on the strap from time to time, and his breath was coming in slightly ragged bursts.

Still it took a long time. Too much control, thought Hugh, smiling. Tsk-tsk.

Tick—tock—tick—tock.

He slowly unfolded his hands and moved to sit between Raphael’s legs. He spit on his middle finger and watched Raphael’s face, half hopeful, half anxious, as he slowly approached his anus. He didn’t hurry. He let Raphael wait for it. He would beg, in time, Hugh knew, but there was no need for that, not yet. He finally pressed his fingertip to the twitching, tight, live rose of flesh and felt it jolt and spasm. He massaged it in circles, with relish, and didn’t even try to penetrate it. Raphael was shaking all over, trying to press down on his finger, but there was just so far he could stretch, tied as he was. His belly muscles went taut. They were contracting in random, jerky convulsions. Hugh had never seen anything so beautiful.

Then Raphael missed a beat. His hand had picked up pace, ignoring all orders. Raphael whimpered, trying to compensate to get back in the right tempo. The double change of pace made him squirm all over. He swallowed twice and missed the beat again. This time Hugh slapped the inside of his thigh, very hard. Raphael could take a long regular series of well-spaced blows with relative ease, but a single hard slap coming down out of the blue like that drew a ragged cry from him.

“You do know what tempo means, I asked?” Hugh said, in a plain chatty voice. He had never had any taste whatsoever for histrionics. He was not, he had never been, a theatrical Dom. He wasn’t in it for setting up a show. He just got the job done.

“Yes. Yes!” said Raphael, a bit frantic. He managed to stick to the rhythm for a minute longer, until Hugh gently stuck his finger just within the ring of his anus. All of Raphael’s body twisted, and he lost all track of the cold, mechanical rhythm of the metronome.

And that is exactly what you need, my love. Too much playing by the rules, too much fucking control. You need to find your own tempo, and just let go.

Five or six fast hard strokes followed. Hugh slapped him twice, on his thigh, and, when he turned suddenly, on his butt. And then Raphael came, on the third slap, as he flopped flat on his back again, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both. It was hard to tell. Semen spurted out in beautiful, long, arched white streamers, splattering over Raphael’s belly, chest, and even his face.

It is difficult to aim while being spanked hard.

Hugh watched him coming, avidly.

He was so naked. So vulnerable, so unguarded. Hugh, who felt, every day, that he might shatter like glass, on Raphael’s unearthly, impossibly graceful, self-possessed beauty, lived for these moments, to watch him released of all self-consciousness and all bonds. Strange, how it took a bunch of leather straps to get him to do that.

“Ah, oh, shit. That hurt,” Raphael whispered after a minute. “Not complaining, mind,” he added, with a small edgy laugh, wiping some drops of sperm from his lips and eyebrow.

“Good,” said Hugh, quite composed, despite the erection straining in his pants. Watching Raphael twitching and jolting while covered in glistening semen was not a sight to leave him unmoved. He reached out for the metronome, stopped it and lowered the weight a tad, then started it again.

This was a faster, business-like tempo.

“There you go, hot lips,” he said to Raphael, who was still breathing hard from his orgasm.

“What? Wh—but…”

Hugh gave him a small devilish smile. Raphael was perfectly capable of coming two or three times in one night, but, like most men, he needed a while to recuperate in between. Well, tonight, he wasn’t getting it.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

You can also find an exclusive excerpt on my website, here.

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Evernight Publishing ## Amazon

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Katherine Wyvern, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey

a past that pursues her #Fantasy #Romance #DLieber @GoddessFish

Hey folks! Today I’m happy to introduce you to D. Lieber and her story The Exiled Otherkin!

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D. writes stories she wants to read. Her love of the worlds of fiction led her to earn a Bachelor’s in English from Wright State University.

When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s probably hiking, crafting, watching anime, Korean television, Bollywood, or old movies. She may also be getting her geek on while planning her next steampunk cosplay with friends.

She lives in Wisconsin with her husband (John), retired guide dog (Samwise), and cat (Yin).

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Website ## Facebook ## Goodreads ##
Google + ## YouTube – Book Video

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I asked D. Lieber, “How did you get your start in writing and what fuels you to continue?” and here is the response.

Writing for me began as a way to release emotions when I was feeling overwhelmed. When I was younger, I wrote poetry to deal with life. I wrote about everything from first love to the death of my grandfather. At that time, I only really shared my work with family and close friends.

I never thought I was anything special until my poetry professor in college took me aside and urged me to pursue a master’s in poetry. I was flattered, of course, but I was far too worried about feeding myself after I graduated. Oh, how I admire people who throw caution to the wind and pursue their artistic dreams!

In any case, I’d always had a secret desire to write fiction, but I honestly believed I didn’t have to imagination for it. I felt compelled to try my hand at it when an author on a panel at a convention told the audience that she wrote stories she wanted to read that hadn’t been written yet. This struck me in just the right way, and I thought: if I’m only writing for my own entertainment, I don’t have to worry if it’s good or not. Well, once Conjuring Zephyr was finished, I figured it didn’t hurt to submit it to publishers and agents. I mean, if I enjoyed it, others might as well, right? And thus began my journey as a fiction author.

As far as what fuels me to continue, that is the stories and my desire to find out what happens. I still write for myself and my own entertainment. When I get a story idea, it just keeps nagging me until I complete it. It’s the same reason I kept a notepad by my bed at night when I was growing up. The words will torment me until they get out.

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Exiled from Faerie when her father dies, half-Fae Ember is surprised by how much the human realm has changed since she was there last. She takes a dangerous job on a merchant airship, hoping a life on the move will keep her well-hidden. Sure, she misses her brother, but years of apathy have numbed her emotions.

When the optimistic and naïve Reilley follows her, it’s annoying to say the least. But when she starts feeling responsible for him, long-stifled emotions crack the ice around her heart.

Faeries, pirates, and traveling players meet in this steampunk fantasy adventure as Ember tries to cope with feelings long forgotten and a past that pursues her.

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I scanned the crowd, but there was no sign of them. My stomach lurched, and I swallowed my panic. I moved as quickly as I could to the place where Reilley had just stood.

To the right was a dim alley with curtained doors lining the sides. I shot into the shady street.

“Reilley?” I called and received no answer.

Up ahead, a curtain covered the light that spilled into the alley. I rushed for that doorway. Ripping open the curtain, I lunged inside.

In the small room, two men sat on crates playing cards on a box in between them. They looked up as I entered.

“Where is he?”

Neither responded as they returned to their game. I spotted a door at the back of the room and barreled toward it. The two men moved to stop me.

“I don’t have time for this,” I told them as they blocked my way.

The one closest to the door I wanted to get through crossed his thick arms over his chest and lifted his chin, looking down at me with a smirk. His wirier friend stepped toward me and pointed the way I’d come.

“This party is closed,” he said with a heavy accent. “If you don’t have an invitation, leave.”

“I just need to get my friend. Then, I’ll leave.”

He shook his head and grabbed my upper arm to escort me out. “You will leave now.”

I rotated my elbow and broke his grip then pulled back and drove the heel of my hand into his nose.

~ * ~ BUY ~ * ~

blackrosewriting.com ## Amazon ## Barnes & Noble

~ * ~ GIVEAWAY ~ * ~

D. Lieber will be awarding a fancy homemade bookmark (US ONLY) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. CLICK HERE to enter to Win! Readers, follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates and places can be found here: Tour Schedule

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D. Lieber, thank you for stopping by today!

Love & blessings to all! ❤
Jacey