Where did the week go??

I find myself asking that question more and more often. Well, this coming week will be a relatively busy one for me, with a couple of unexpected appointments, and working every day at the EDJ, since the other clerk is off in the Dominican Republic sunning her buns. I just wish there was less ice on the ground. I wouldn't feel so anxious about having to do so much running up and down. I'm a terrible wuss when it comes to ice!

LOL...

Move Over bunny ears...

Obsession of the worse kind

We just moved, yet again, and I just finished cleaning the old apartment. I now remember (as though I ever really forget) why I hate cleaning so much. I become completely obsessed with it. Every little spot must go. Even though I know they are going to paint before the next tenants come in, I was compelled to wipe down the walls in my son's old room because apparently he had to prove ownership every time he entered the room by marking the door and walls with his hands. Oh, and did I mention using scissors to snip out tiny blobs of grease on his carpet? All mothers of skateboarding sons, beware! Invest in an area rug for your sons' rooms. Changing the trucks is messy work!

Anyway, I spent the entire day cleaning, and honestly could have spent another couple of hours on it. Very, very strange, the change that comes over me when I'm cleaning. I'm totally invested in it. I don't think about writing. There's no plotting, day dreaming, nothing but cleaning, and planning what to clean next. I clean things that I don't even think are on the list of things they want cleaned before you leave, and that's a pretty comprehensive list. It was a long, ugly job, and I know it would have gone smoother if I was more inclined to clean that way regularly, but I'd really rather name the dust bunnies than vacuum them up. Besides, it's so much easier cleaning an empty apartment.

The only other time I become that obsessed with anything is when I'm writing, but even that isn't as single-minded. Good thing I only get like that when we're moving--on average once every two years--or I'd have no time for anything else!

Six Sentence Sunday!

Wow, the last week has flown by, and here we are, Sunday again. This week I thought I'd give a taste of my up-coming Samhain release, What the Mistress Did written under my erotica pen name, Anya Delvay. This was one of those books that almost wrote itself, and kept surprising me at each turn. I'm a pantser by nature, but recently I've been working with an outline, just so I don't write myself into a corner and have to waste time trying to figure out how to get out of it. With this book, the heroine, Lady Marianne Gillingham, went about her in search for lusty revenge, and took me along for the ride. I hope you enjoy the following, which happen to be the very first six sentences of the book!

Anya

Such a delectable morsel.

Standing in front of the fireplace, fingers knotted into the sides of her skirts, Miss Annabelle Frasier tries to stare me down. The generations of aristocracy in her lineage allow a credible effort, but it isn’t enough. No matter the careful styling of her wig into a powdered coiffure fit for a queen, the width of her panniers or richness of her accoutrements. To me she is a fledgling, sweetly young, trying wings not yet adult enough for the journey attempted.

The sight of her moves and angers me, stirring feelings I never imagined experiencing under such circumstances.

Six Sentence Sunday!

It's time for Six Sentence Sunday again, and I thought I'd continue to give a little taste of how Claire and Xavier's relationship develops in Breaking Free.

Xavier Westbourne would be a gentle lover, she thought, until passion overcame him. Then perhaps the beast dwelling in all men would come alive, taking over and driving him to roughness, releasing him from control, throwing them both towards and over the edge of passionate madness. She licked her parched lips, and was rewarded with a sound emanating from deep in his throat—the sound of the beast stirring. With another shiver, a delicious spasm of expectation suffused her entire body.

“Perhaps I shall, Mr. Westbourne.”

She pitched her voice only high enough to reach him, seeing him exhale, as though he had been holding his breath.

Shake, stir and see what comes out

What do Steampunk, a modern-day Realtor, a megalomaniacal cat and a tortured Viscount have in common? They're all elements of various stories fighting for my attention! No sooner have I settled in with one tale than another starts clamouring for me to get back to it.

Luckily for me, crit partner Amy comes to the rescue again. Hearing about the Passionate Reads pitch contest, she dared me to enter. I did, with a pitch for my partially completed erotic Steampunk novella, Beyond Prudence. So now, no matter what else I'm tempted to get into, that particular book has to have first dibs on my time. I'm afraid Ellora's Cave editor Grace Bradley will actually be interested, and I won't be ready.

Fear really is a great motivator...

If you have a moment, please do pop by and vote for me! Voting on the pitches opens on January 8th, 2011 and ends on the 15th.

Anya Revealed...sort of

So, the ladies at The Long and Short of It asked if any of the Samhain erotic writers would be interested in being interviewed for their Whipped Cream Erotic Romance Review site, and I said yes. The questions were really fun, and I had a blast answering them, but when I realised they wanted a picture to go with the interview, I was stumped.

I don’t like having pictures taken. My driver’s licence could belong to a hardened criminal, the photo is so bad. My hair is in that in-between stage where there is nothing to be done with it except find ways to con it into believing it can behave. I hate studio portraits even more than candid...

...Okay, I think you get the gist.

Maybe one day I’ll be forced to give in and get a really nice picture taken of myself for publicity purposes. In the meantime, please meet Anya Avatar (top left), who will be standing in for me in any situation where my image is requested or needed. She’s the version of me I like to portray to the world...a little sassy, fun and smiling. Please note the red dress and shoes (it’s my favourite colour despite (or because of?) the fact my mother didn’t much care for it) and the hair that looks sort of stylish instead of just out-of-control!

My son was candid enough to point out I seem to have, um, exaggerated a few attributes (I’ll leave you to guess which) but I stuck my nose in the air and told him that was what artistic license was all about.

Damn these young know-it-alls. I hope I live to see him have a bunch of kids who are just like him!