We are pleased to welcome Rosanna Leo to our Guest's Blog again! Her stories are full of sensuality and humor. You should definitely check her books out! If you want to know more about her and the books in question, check out http://www.rosannaleo.blogspot.ca/. Now, we'll leave you to her great post.
"Write it down, dammit!"
I'd like to offer a big thank you to Chris and Ceci for hosting me today. I'm so excited to be here.
I'm here as part of my current blog tour to promote my newest paranormal romance Selkie's Revenge. However, I also wanted to talk a little bit about a day in the life of an erotic romance author, namely yours truly. It can get a little crazy sometimes...
You see, if I had the luxury to be a full-time writer, friends probably wouldn't consider me so quirky. But the fact is, I also have a part-time job at a library and am the mom to two busy sons. Sometimes life does get in the way of my writing, which is understandable.
Even still, the writing tends to creep in, often at inopportune moments.
In order to keep things straight in my head, I carry notebooks, usually one for each book I'm working on. It's not unusual to find me scribbling, even when I'm not supposed to be. However, when inspiration strikes, I need to listen and record it or I'll forget my terrific idea.
So it's not unusual to find me in the grocery line or at my work or in the bathtub, clutching my notebook in desperation, looking like an insane Muse. Anyone looking over my shoulder will likely read something like this: "When they have sex for the first time, make sure he takes her up against the tree trunk. Hard and fast. They can get romantic later. Oh, and keep some of the clothes on."
You get a few looks when people read over your shoulder, I've learned.
My sons also question me a lot. They see Mom hastily making notes all the time and try to peek into my notebook. They know what I write and they know they're way too young to read my books, but they try to get glimpses. One time, I forgot my youngest was near me in the room, quietly reading in a corner. The stealthy bum snuck up behind me, looked at what I was scribbling, and asked, "Mom. Did you just write that word you tell us never to say?"
I had to do some fancy footwork in the backtracking department, let me tell you!
So the moral of my story is this: if you know a romance writer, cut him or her some slack. Yes, she will likely talk and write a lot about sex. If you're married to her, she may just ask you to try out some new positions, to make sure arms and legs don't get tangled. She will likely talk to herself an awful lot.
But the end result will be delicious.
Selkie's Revenge Blurb/Excerpt
On the beaches of Orkney, Scotland, an evil entity stalks mortal women. Machar "Mack" Kirk is a selkie man with a haunted past, one that has prompted him to become a hunter. He prowls the beaches at night, his arrows aiming for the finman who took his first love.
Beth Pedersen also watches the sea. The haunted widow has suffered losses of her own, ones that have crippled her into a state of stony grief. Beth can no longer feel, can no longer see color and life. Until the day Mack Kirk saves her from a mysterious foe, flooding her world with brightness and foreign temptation.
As Mack and Beth fight their inundating passion, the finman escalates his attacks. Before long, Mack realizes he's not just playing Good Samaritan. He wants Beth, too, and will do anything to ensure his lover isn't taken by the finman. But can he protect his mate from a monster with no soul?
As a torrent of emotion coiled up through her core, Beth kissed him. She barely understood his words, barely comprehended her own thoughts, but she knew she needed Mack's mouth upon hers. She smashed her lips against his, and his tongue penetrated the warmth of her mouth, finding its home there. He slid his hands down her back to her bottom, and he groaned, digging into the soft flesh of her behind.
Desire and common sense raged a war inside her head. Common sense told her to pack a bag, purchase a ticket to New Smyrna, and leave Mack Kirk far behind. Desire told her to submit, and it was winning out by a mile. "I don't know what to do. I need you to tell me what to do."
He leaned in, smelling so sweet, like an exotic fruit she just needed to peel and gobble up. "Just let go, Beth. Just feel."
She dared to look him in the eye. "I'm afraid to feel."
"I know. For years I was too." He brushed his lips against hers, and his tongue slipped out to caress between them, making her ache with such yearning. "But I'll help you."
Jamie and Edan arrived with beers. Edan gave Jamie a look as if knowing they'd interrupted something. "I'm heading back to the bar to try my luck with the luscious bartender."
Jamie grimaced. "The old one with the beard?"
"Not him, you eejit," Edan said with a grunt. "The female bartender. The one with the big..." He paused, looking at Beth. "Uh, bottle of vodka. Right, that one." He dashed off.
Jamie winked at Beth. "I'll get to her first." With a smile, he was after his brother.
She leaned against Mack's wall of a chest, wanting to lose herself in him. "Show me how to feel again."
"With pleasure," he growled into her ear. He nibbled her earlobe and then proceeded to slide back out of the booth.
"Where are you going?" she asked, already needy for his touch again.
"Just to the jukebox," he replied, grinning. "You are going to dance with me. And feel."
She watched, glued to her seat as Mack inserted a couple of coins into the jukebox and selected a song. He turned to her, his lips curled in a grin. As the first rolling guitar chords of Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" washed over her, making her want to move, Mack beckoned to her with a finger.
Beth's body moved toward him, responding like a homing pigeon diving toward its destination. He pulled her into his arms and they swayed. Beth had never danced so closely with a man to anything but a romantic ballad, but Mack wouldn't break contact with her. He moved his hard body against hers, his hands on her hips, and his erection was a thick temptation grinding against her stomach. She had to fight the need to drop to her knees, rip down his jeans, and take his cock deep in her throat. The urge, and the depth of emotion accompanying it, made her light-headed. He turned her away from the bar area toward the nearest wall and slid his hands over the curve of her bottom. His fingers dug into her ass, and Beth had to remind herself they were in public. She wanted him to nail her right to the wall. Through the damn wall. She needed him inside her at all costs.
He felt so good.
My mate. Could it be?
He lowered his head so he could whisper against her ear. "Do you feel me, Beth? Do you feel my desire throbbing against you? My need to be joined to you again?"
The song reached its crescendo, and his hips rolled against hers in a heady foreshadowing of what he would do to her the next time they were alone. Beth closed her eyes. The way he moved was sinful. She imagined devils from the most depraved circles of hell might dance in such a fashion. All of a sudden, even her soft leggings felt tight and restrictive. She wanted them off. She wanted no barrier between their bodies. As if sensing her need, Mack reached a discreet hand toward her breast and located her distended nipple through her tunic. He tugged and she had to bite her lip not to cry out.
"Take me home, Mack," she begged in an unfamiliar, wanton voice. "I want to feel more."
Selkie's Revenge is available at http://www.lsbooks.com/selkies-revenge-p813.php
and all ebooksellers!
Rosanna Leo is a multi-published, erotic romance author with Liquid Silver Books. Her books include For the Love of a God, Up In Flames, Sweet Hell, The Selkie, Sunburn and Predator's Kiss. When not writing, she can be found haunting dusty library stacks or planning her next star-crossed love affair.