Friday, September 28, 2012

An Ugly Friday

Ugh. I'm battling a case of sinusitis that seems to have come on me in the blink of an eye. One minute I'm fine, the next my sinuses are inflamed. My head feels like a balloon, and I'm coughing and blowing my nose every three seconds. I've had this before, twice actually, since moving to Bend. And we've had some really smokey days here because of a fire in Sisters. So between the fire, the pollen floating around during the warmer weather, and the general dryness of climate, I'm not surprised I can't breathe.

I have today planned as a writing day, so I'm going to ignore the impulse to go back to bed and instead sit in the shower for a while. Maybe the steam will help. Then, writing, writing, and more writing. 

Hope your Friday goes better than mine.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Wednesday Words: KATE UNDONE

I thought I'd share a really fun novella with you, since I shared Namesake last week. Kate Undone is the second in my Voider Possession series, though I've been admittedly slow in following up with book 3. (Tommy Chen's story is coming...slowly, but it's coming. sigh A good bit more of him is seen in this story, FYI.) In any case, Kate Undone is a stand-alone m/m/f novella where anything and everything goes. If this doesn't heat up your Wednesday, nothing will. 

OF NOTE: This is a m/m scene between the heroes Logan and Jesse, who are part of a Ravager pack. Ravagers are like werewolves, except extremely sexual. Enjoy. :)


Jesse glared at Logan and shoved the rest of his clothes in a bag. “Fuck you. I’m tired of waiting.”

“So am I, but this is how it’s done.” Logan glared right back at him and shoved a hank of dark brown hair out of his face. His bright amber eyes glowed with resentment. “You think I like waiting on her to claim me? Fuck, Jesse. I want Kate as much as you do, but she won’t come to me.”

“Why?” Jesse had to know. He’d been taken with the stubborn female since the day she’d been brought into Eric’s pack. At first he’d cared for her like a big brother. But as they’d both matured, he’d sensed the possibility that she’d make a fine mate. Problem was, a Ravager female ruled her family unit—her pack. As much as he wanted her, he couldn’t claim a revered female.

He’d thought his dreams had finally come true when Kate publicly announced their claim in front of the clan. But for some reason she wouldn’t make the first move to seal their mating bond.

Logan sighed. “I wish I knew why she won’t accept us. At first I thought it was because she didn’t like us together, you know.” He and Jesse fucked daily. Ravagers needed sex, and Jesse and Logan shared a bond that went beyond clanmates or even packmates. They fit with each other. Deeply, truly, but there was still a hole only Kate could fill.

“Then I thought it might be Vicki. Kate doesn’t seem to like her, and well, we did help Eric mark her.”

Jesse remembered the occasion with fondness, when he and Logan had helped mark the prime’s new queen, folding her into Eric’s pack. “I don’t see where she’d have cause for concern. Hell, she helped Diana mark Sean, and I’m okay with it.”

Kate had fucked Sean, and he wasn’t okay with it. But Ravagers didn’t do jealousy. As sexual as they were, sharing partners, even sometimes among mates, happened.
Logan frowned. “I don’t like thinking about her with anyone else.”

Surprised Logan experienced the same pangs of envy Jesse did, he felt better about the odd feelings he refused to admit. “Your idea to give her space isn’t working.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Logan huffed and dropped into the thick chair by Jesse’s bed. “Seriously, what’s with the packing?” He nodded to Jesse’s bag.

“I’m done waiting. I don’t care about mating tradition. Isn’t it Prime’s idea that we try to fit in better with the Norms? The men around here take what they want. I’m taking Kate.”

Logan sat up. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m tired, I’m horny and I miss her.”

“How do you think I feel?”

“Who the hell knows?” Jesse considered his best friend. Logan still laughed and teased. The lighthearted member of their little family never let anything keep him down.

“I fucking miss her as much as you do, asshole. Just because I try to keep a positive attitude about things doesn’t mean I don’t care. One of us has to be upbeat.”

“What does that mean?”

“You walk around all day moping and pining. Yeah, I said pining.” At Jesse’s look, Logan shrugged. “Vicki’s word, not mine. But it still fits. You’re a brooding pain in my ass, and I can only take so much of your negativity.”

That hurt, but Jesse wasn’t going to stick around to defend himself. He wanted Kate back, and by damn, he was going to get her. “I’m outta here.”

Logan shot out of the chair and knocked Jesse to the ground. The minute his friend brushed against him, his cock hardened like stone. Logan tried to force him into submission, but Jesse didn’t like to be topped. Instead, he grappled with the idiot until he pinned Logan under him.

Logan’s eyes flashed with heat. “That bulge in your pants is hard to miss.”

“Back at you,” Jesse panted. He licked his lips, aching for release. “I thought we agreed we’d wait until we had her with us.”

Logan groaned when Jesse shifted his weight. “We’re waiting. No sex. But dammit, you keep moving like that and I’ll come in my pants. Stop,” he barked when Jesse intentionally rocked against him.

“Tsk, tsk. Have some control, pup.”

“You’re a shithead, you know that?” Logan groaned when Jesse leaned up on his elbows and ground his pelvis against him. “Fuck. I said stop,” he rasped even as he arched up, increasing the friction.

Jesse could take pain. His early years had been nothing but fighting, holding on to survive amidst the chaos and ferocity of Ravager life in their homeworld. But Logan hadn’t known the savagery of the slums. He’d been raised in a caring pack before escaping sure death into the Voids. He knew a gentler way of life, though he hated being reminded of it. And though he’d never admit it, Logan needed sex more than most Ravagers. Going without was hurting him needlessly. No reason Logan should suffer just because Kate was being so stubborn.

Jesse sat up and straddled Logan’s thighs. He unbuttoned Logan’s jeans and slowly pulled down his zipper.

“Jesse, man, we agreed not to—”

“Shut up.” Jesse watched Logan’s cock spring up the moment the fabric parted. His ruddy cockhead leaked at the tip, and the darkened shaft blushed with arousal. Scooting back so he could lower those jeans, Jesse pulled them down and made sure to free Logan’s heavy sac.

Logan groaned. “Oh man, I’m so fucking hard.”

Jesse salivated at the sight and scent of his packmate. Kate’s pack, he reminded himself. And in her absence, he’d take care of their mate as he saw fit. “She should be doing this.”

Before Logan could agree, Jesse lowered his head and took Logan deep, all the way to the back of his throat. His mate bucked and cried out, then grasped Jesse’s hair as he jerked and tried to move deeper.

“Need you so bad,” Logan panted and ground against Jesse’s lips. Two more short pumps and he came hard, jetting down Jesse’s throat.

Logan’s throaty cries made it hard to resist his own orgasm, but Jesse deserved the painful frustration. If he’d taken care of Kate the way he’d wanted to, they could have avoided this mess. But no, he’d tried to respect Kate’s wishes. Hell, he’d gone so far as to take Logan’s advice. And he knew better.

“Oh my God. Jesse,” Logan breathed. “Man, that was so fucking good. Thanks.”
Jesse pulled away, kissed Logan’s still semi-hard cock and tucked him back into his jeans. 

“You needed that.” He stood stiffly and adjusted himself.

“Looks like you need it too.”

“I’ll wait.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Then what the hell was this all about? Still trying to protect me, the weakest member of the pack? That’s bullshit and you know it. You may be an inch taller, but I can outrun you any day of the week.”

“Whatever, Logan.”

“No, not whatever. Look, I need sex and touch. So do you. We’re fucking Ravagers. And even though you’d rather be tortured than admit it, you need affection just as much. Wanting to belong doesn’t make me weak, and denying it doesn’t make you strong.”

“Hell no. We’re not getting into this now. Not when we have Kate to save. You want her? Then get your ass in gear. It’s past time to claim Kate for our own.”

“Don’t think we won’t talk about this later.” Logan stood on shaky legs and straightened his clothes. He pulled his shoulder-length hair free of his shirt and readjusted a few buttons. “Shit. You mean it about going after Kate?” Cautious excitement replaced Logan’s annoyance. “What about Prime?”

“What about him? Eric has the clan to worry about. Besides, he’s busy with Vicki, Dom and Malcolm. Kate’s ours, Logan. It’s time we showed her that, once and for all.”

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Writing: Kids Are People Too

Today was a first for me. I talked to my son's second grade class about writing. I've talked to adults about writing, discussed the craft with friends and fellow writers, and attended workshops geared toward character and voice and pacing. But this was the first time I'd geared a talk for kids.

Now I know what you're thinking, because I was thinking the same thing. Erotic romance and children don't go hand in hand. But I wasn't pimping my books to seven and eight year olds. The name Marie Harte never came up in the conversation. We discussed writing, where to get ideas, what plagiarism is, what  dedication is, and all sorts of terrific questions only second graders could ask. They did ask about my books, and I told them about the young adult story I'm nearly through and about the children's book I plan to write for my boys. They liked that. 

It was refreshing to see such young, intelligent and creative minds opening to allow the room for possibility. It's okay to turn your annoying little brother into a a book. Or to throw your dog into a pool of sharks because he's actually SuperDog there to save your favorite toy from being eaten. And of course, he'll survive the a story. 

Talking to them reminded me of why I like to write. To bring joy to others, and okay, myself as well. Anything is possible in fiction. There are no limits, no boundaries to what's allowed. It's imaginary, but how wonderful to find a place where gods dine with mortals, the boogeyman likes disco, and happily-ever-after is a staple, not a rarity. In my world, kissing is more than okay. But in my kids', girls and boys never cross lips (ever), and play wall ball and video games that come to life. A heaven on earth in the mind. 

I have to thank the teachers, Mrs. S. and Mrs. F., for allowing me such a wonderful opportunity, to plug in and recharge my creative juices. Because I found an idea this morning, staring at those wide eyes measuring me for my worth. I hope I entertained them, answered their questions, and encouraged them to write. Because a mind without imagination is like a playground without play.

Monday, September 24, 2012

No Cavities, Ma!

So I visited the dentist today. No cavities! Hurray. Now I can "sink my teeth" into the deadlines I've roughly set for myself that I've stretched wide all over the place. (Gotta love that segue, right?)

I just don't understand why I'm dragging my feet on my current project, as it's exciting and different than anything I've done before. A YA story for fun, done in 1st person POV (Point of View). And man, is that way different than writing in 3rd person POV. You have to come up with a lot of creative ways to get around "I."
Example: 1st POV-- I fought the urge to shiver, because he kept staring at my neck like he hadn't eaten for weeks.
3rd POV--(from his point of view) She shivered, because he kept staring at her neck as if he hadn't eaten for weeks. And he hadn't, because he'd been waiting to nibble on her...
I. I. I. It's everywhere in my YA novel. And my characterization is also limited because all that delicious backstory and other character thought, which adds dimension, isn't there. My heroine can't know what the hero thinks, or why the gods have done what they did, or how the berserkers found her--not unless she risks certain death to ask them.

So providing information is a challenge.

I've got another week before I hit Killer Thoughts, the last in my PowerUp! series, and then Love in Electric Blue, the third in my Westlake Enterprises books (for Samhain). And good news... I just signed a contract for another shifter book! When the deal's officially sealed, as in, I have a copy of my contract signed from both parties, I'll share more. Until then, fingers crossed I get this project done within the next week.

Well what do you know? It's not a crappy Monday. That's three in a row! Woo hoo, and it's a Wicked Wolf Coffee day. Maybe that's part of my joy.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

The Late Wednesday Words

Whoops. I missed yesterday. Was in a mental fog I've thankfully broken free from. So here's a steamy excerpt to heat up the start to your weekend, a scene from Namesake. (Note: It's rough and forceful, nothing gentle about this scene. But it's part of the pack way of doing things, and the female is always treasured above all else in Ravager existence.)

Hell.” Sean launched himself at Eric, taking the offensive. “Vicki, get out of here!” Before Sean could touch Eric, Jesse and Logan tackled him to the ground.
“No way.” Vicki stepped forward to help when rough arms grabbed her from behind. She squirmed but couldn’t break free, not even when she tried to tap into the male’s energy, which she found blocked.
“She’s strong, we’ll need to hurry,” Dominic rasped.
Eric nodded then motioned to someone behind him. Two women raced in. Both were tall and toned, with long dark hair and glittering eyes. The bustier of the two smiled, showing sharp white teeth.
“Sean, I missed you, baby. I guess when you said you’d be back, you meant later tomorrow, hmm?”
Sean cursed and bucked under Jesse and Logan.
“He’s a fighter, like her,” Jesse said and shoved his elbow into Sean’s gut, knocking the wind from his sails.
“Cut it out,” Vicki yelled. She used everything in her to shove Dominic back. The Ravagers had prepared well for this meeting. It was all she could do to move the blond giant.
He slammed against the wall while she raced toward Sean. Before she could reach him, Eric intercepted her. His arms were like steel.
“Let me go,” she demanded, breathing hard.
“Still fighting. I like that. And so pretty,” he said thickly.
“Eric, let me go!” She threw her all into the effort, but weakened from Dominic and from whatever Eric was doing to block her, she tired quickly.
Sean continued to fight while one of the females, Diana or Kate, ripped his shirt off with sharp nails. She yanked one of the bandages off him and bit over the last imprint one of them had left.
“Get off him!” Vicki panted as she tried in vain to reach Sean. That bite. The Ravager was marking her cousin. Not good.
Sean groaned, pulled the woman closer and forced her to kiss him on the mouth. The fight went out of him and the kiss turned embarrassingly carnal.
“Your turn,” Eric promised.
They’ll own you. Sean’s words echoed in her mind. With a last effort, she kicked with her foot and mind as hard as she could.
Eric hissed in pain and doubled over. He lifted his head, retribution glowing like coals in his gaze. He slowly straightened, backing her toward the wall.
Dominic had the back door blocked. Sean and the women lay between Vicki and the front door, and Jesse and Logan were regaining their feet. With no option left, Vicki darted for the stairs. She ran as fast as she could, hoping to lock herself in the bedroom and leave through the fire escape outside her window. Harsh breath on her neck warned her she hadn’t been fast enough.
In seconds, a hard body slammed her belly-down onto the bed. Claws shredded her shirt and sharp teeth pierced the juncture of her throat and shoulder. The pain stung, but not as sweetly as the drugging pleasure lighting up her entire body.
His scent told her it was Eric. Raw sex and a sultry, alluring perfume colored the area, made more intense the harder he sucked at the base of her neck.
In seconds she grew wet and her body flushed with desire. She squirmed to feel his erection against her ass. He reached around to cup her breast and she moaned, caught in his web.
“You belong to the prime,” Dominic rasped.
“Let’s pick up where we left off,” Logan said on a chuckle. “Vicki, wet and wanting, waiting on hard Ravager cock.”
Eric finally released her neck. He stripped her bare in seconds, his claws slicing up her clothes without scratching her once. He sucked in a breath. “That ass is mine.”
No one objected.
“And that pussy is mine. You’re mine, Victoria Fox. All of you.”
“Prime’s,” Logan said.
“Prime’s,” Jesse agreed.
“Make her pack, Prime.” Dominic had the final word.
Eric propped her up on her hands and knees. “Don’t move.”
Her legs felt like jelly, but she couldn’t have disobeyed even if she wanted to. She couldn’t understand how, but their energy grew, changing. No longer four separate beings, they felt like one entity. And all of it wanted her.
Eric shoved a finger inside her without warning. She groaned as his digit slid in, thick and intrusive, yet without encumbrance. She was so damn wet.
Staring down at her midnight blue comforter, she couldn’t see Eric. She could only feel him as he nudged her knees apart with his naked thigh. He seemed so solid, so powerful behind her. She’d never in her life felt weak, but next to him and the others, she felt vulnerable as she bent before him.
The fighter in her stirred. She tried to shift away but Eric stopped her by imprisoning her hips, holding her still. He groaned. “That’s it. Don’t give in, not yet.” He teased her with the tip of his cock, thick and solid, as he began to enter her. “This is going to feel so damn good.”
“Too bad it’s going to have to wait,” Dominic growled. “We’ve got company.”
Jesse and Logan swore. Eric shuddered behind her and continued to push until he was balls-deep. They remained locked for a moment, the carnal intensity between them palpable.
“Prime?” Dominic said softly.
Fuck.” Eric slowly withdrew and pulled Vicki to her feet, his arm around her belly as he clasped her back to his chest.
Vicki had a hard time understanding what had happened. Her body was on fire, needing him in the worst way, while her mind shrieked at her to escape. She made another halfhearted attempt to break free.
“I’m going to kill the assholes interrupting this.” Eric pushed her hair aside and bit hard.

Namesake, by Marie Harte

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Right, Left, or in the Middle--Do You Really Need To Know?

You'd think by now that the cold would be killing all the flowers. Yet the temperature highs are in the 80s and even 90s and due to remain so all week. How extraordinary.

And how bad for someone who needs to stay shut in and write.

Ah well, snow will come soon enough, I suppose. Until then, I'm working. But I thought I'd mention something that strikes me as an interesting topic of discussion. 

So many people are making it their mission in life to disparage and discuss politicians as the election draws closer. But do you think it's a good idea for authors to throw in their opinions as well? Do you feel bogged down in the "Facebook polls"?

Not that an author isn't expected to have an opinion, but I'm more concerned that readers like my fiction than my rhetoric, if that makes sense. I think certain viewpoints--having nothing whatsoever to do with an author's work--can be polarizing. 

As a reader, knowing too much about an author can put me off. If Author Susie comes across as a liberal or conservative whack-job, I wonder how I can read her book and not be reminded that she wants baby zebras to run congress. And though I'm all for women's rights, reading about authors burning bras, panties, and their ex-boyfriends to stand up for themselves makes me want to run fast and far, far away.

I have views. I have opinions. I have a definite idea of who I want running the country. But as Marie Harte, author, I don't think any of that is relevant to what I write. Or am I wrong?  Curious...

Monday, September 17, 2012


Sadly, this was me this morning. And then... I was rejuvenated into a creative whirlwind. I've had another stellar Monday--that's two in a row!  

I'm working on edits that aren't that hard (thank you, Ann!), had a good night's sleep last night so I'm not dead tired today, already walked this morning, and had a helluva nice mid-morning all around (thank you, J)...and all before coffee! 

Thinking I must be on a hot streak, I traded on my good fortune and called the IRS, something I'd been putting off. After waiting for nearly 45 minutes, I spoke to a pleasant person and learned that yes, the tax error from last year has been resolved and I'm good to go. 

At this rate, I think I should play the lottery. Now I'm back to La Llave (cuban coffee) and working. BIG smiles, and I'm wondering if I can make next Monday a triple streak of good luck. Hmm.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Under the Gun

I've pretty much figured out that the mind is a contrary thing. Especially mine. Give me too much time, and I get nothing done. Give me a month, a few weeks, and I've written sixty thousand words.

Why is that? 

I wish I knew. But I've learned I have to set deadlines to be productive. Earlier in my writing career they were my own limits. Now, most are dictated by my publishers with my input, securing release dates and furthering my workload.  

I'm actually very happy to have deadlines. My last one was September 1st. I happened to have two projects due on the same day, so I'd retro-planned my summer to handle the work. My next looming deadline is Dec 1st. Same two publishers, same planning to ensure I make the magic happen. I'd intended to take September off, as in, write whatever I wanted to write then return to deadline work in October, but after talking with a good friend, I decided against that.  I'm giving myself some cushion by starting up again on Monday. 

Now I'll have 2 and a half months to make goals. No sweat. Except that I've cut short my free time. Yet, in the two weeks I've been free, what have I done, writing-wise? With the exception of finally updating my Quickbooks (thank you Trudy!!!) I've puttered here and there but haven't finished any of the projects I wanted to have done. I had too much to complete, so instead of picking any one item, I did nothing.


So frustrating, and another reason I look forward to resuming my schedule. Oddly enough, I'll probably end up finishing other projects in between my deadlines. Why? Because I'm weird like that, and I wish I wasn't. But under the gun, I'm much more productive. Go figure. 

Just wondering if I'm the only one or if others work best this way as well. Hmm...

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Wednesday Words: Sexy Saturnalia

Ready to light up your Wednesday? How about an excerpt from a sexy story about Roman gods reborn? Check out this excerpt from Saturnalia: Lord of Misrule (Loose Id). And this one is definitely adult-rated.

Each year, Saturn requires special tribute, and he prefers abundance in sexual favor, suitable "sacrifice" for the god of nature and the harvest.Matteo Silvano and Renato Fortuna are up to the task, both charged with continuing their town's prosperity. Used to sharing women, the two are drawn toward something deeper than friendship with the addition of uniquely lovely Allegra Valente.
And when the proper tribute is paid, Saturn will reward not only the town, but Matt, Renato, and Allegra with a very special gift that will last an eternity.


“Matteo?” Renato said quietly.

Matt turned to face him and saw a familiar gleam in his friend’s eyes. Shit. Not now. It was all he could do to hold on. He couldn’t deal with Renato’s lust, too.

“Don’t start, Rene.”

“Come here.”

Matt frowned. “This isn’t a good idea. We need all the time we can get with her before tomorrow. Because ‑‑”

Rene cut off his next words with a hard grab. In two seconds, the large man had his hand down Matt’s pants and wrapped around his cock.

“Rene,” he growled, not in the mood to play games of dominance with his best friend and sometime lover. He was hard enough from Allegra, he didn’t need Rene adding to his frustration.

Then Rene moved closer, and Matt felt his friend’s erection through the silk of their trousers, which made it worse. Knowing he wasn’t the only one affected made it that much harder to hold onto his tenuous control.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Matt whispered furiously, conscious the door behind them could open any minute. Yet he couldn’t resist the large palm molding him, and he pressed deeper into Rene’s grasp.

“You, my friend, need ease. The little witch in there is too tempting, yes?” Rene began pumping, and Matt gave a silent groan at how good the motion felt. “She tempts me as well.” Rene thrust against Matt’s thigh, clearly aroused. “We must focus on the festival. If we move too soon, we’ll lose it all.”

Matt nodded, his mind barely making sense of anything while Rene had his cock imprisoned in that heavenly grip. Sweat beaded on his forehead as Rene pushed Matt’s trousers and underwear down to his knees.

“But what if they ‑‑”

“No one will enter. They don’t wish to displease Saturn.” Rene smiled, his gaze suddenly fathomless, his grin carnal. And Matt was once again reminded that as well as he thought he knew his friend, there were depths to Rene that awed him. “Nor do you. Now spread your legs wider.”

Matt did as ordered, his balls tight, his cock aching, needing more. Rene didn’t disappoint. Licking his finger, he reached around Matt and pried between the cheeks of his ass.

Hissing with pleasure, Matt widened his stance, as much as he was able to with his pants around his knees. Uncomfortable yet sexually frenzied, he couldn’t help moaning his desire.

Rene took away his sounds with a swift kiss. And as he penetrated Matt’s mouth with his tongue, he also thrust his finger into Matt’s ass. Matt shuddered, his cock creaming as Rene increased the urgency of his strokes. Like an inferno, Matt’s lust roared uncontrollably, and in moments he was ready to spew.

He broke from Rene’s mouth, panting. “I’m going to come hard.”

Rene quickly withdrew his finger from Matt’s ass and grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket. Focused now on Matt’s cock, he continued to jerk him off while sucking Matt’s tongue with an efficiency bordering on madness. Visions of Allegra between them suddenly appeared in Matt’s mind’s eye, and Rene groaned into his mouth, as if seeing them as well.

Matt felt the explosion start at the base of his spine and work through his balls as his cum jetted into the handkerchief Rene held. On and on he pulsed, his body frozen in the little death that was so incredibly powerful. It felt like forever before he could catch his breath. With shaky hands, he righted his clothing and watched Rene stuff the dirtied cloth into his pant pocket, the action clearly outlying the massive erection straining his trousers.

Shit. Matt knew what came next, but the need inside him to dominate was subdued again as Rene smirked and unbuttoned his pants. The zipper slid slowly down, the sound loud in the quiet stillness of the study. Matt watched helplessly as Rene took out his smooth, golden shaft, moist with arousal.