On January 26, 2018, I’m releasing my first erotic romance. It’s by far the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written. No, it’s not as dirty as it could be, but I jumped from Romantic Comedy to Erotic Romance, so give me some room to adjust. In this novella, wrote my first MFF scene. In Book 2, I wrote a MMF scene. And I liked it. There, I said it. Now deal with it. I’m looking at you, Mom. Kidding! No one can tell her. Not ever. Okay, okay, she knows but I don’t think she should read this one.
As a little teaser, I’m dropping Chapter 1 of Tarq for your reading pleasure (see below). Each book in the series can be read as a standalone. I’m gonna try to write and release quickly, so y’all be ready. In February, I’ll give a peak at Book 2. It’s way dirtier than the first. You’re welcome. Click here to purchase on Amazon. If you’d like to get free, advanced copies of my books in exchange for an honest review, click on my Contact page and fill in your info. I’m always looking for ARC readers. Happy Wednesday!
Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. I’ve teamed up with over thirty other authors to create a huge giveaway. Up for grabs are: 33 books, 33 prizes, and a $100 grand prize paid via PayPal.
If you’d like a shot at winning, click here. It will take you to the Rafflecopter screen where you can enter by liking pages, following on Twitter, etc. The more authors’ pages you follow, the more chances you get at winning.
Thanks and good luck!
Holy Cheezits, y’all. I just wrote the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written. No, Mom, you shall not read it! I know you wanna be all supportive-like, but I’m seriously blushing over here. And I’m totes inappropriate at all times.
Yes, I’ve read erotica with way more naughty-naughty. I mean, have you read Anne Rice’s The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty? It’s legit. I loved it. However, I’m taking baby steps here, folks. I can’t jump from writing humor with some quality sex in the mix to the sexual enslavement of royal offspring. But I will tell you I wrote my first menage scene and I liked it. I liked it soooo much.
Ah, a new year. It’s like touching a fresh, crisp dollar bill. It’s so shiny and new, so pretty. What’s that? You think our currency isn’t pretty? Alright, Communist. Try this … it’s like a freshly fallen snow, so beautiful in its innocence. Until people drive around and it turns to grey sludge, and you remember it’s freaking cold outside, and you question your life’s choices while shoveling the driveway in -8 temps, while your husband tries to get the dog to pee on the beautiful snow, but she’s a freak of nature and forgot what snow was and limps around like she doesn’t want to touch it.
That moment, right there? That is life. Real life. It’s the reason we can appreciate that untouched first round of snow. If life was all fairies and rainbows, we wouldn’t appreciate it. No, Deborah, I’m not a life coach. I’m just feeling a shift inside (shift, not shit. Jeez. Why you always in the gutter, girl?).
Well, I finally joined Snapchat. It was traumatic. I have no idea how to use it, aside from making silly faces and sending them to my niece. But, seconds after posting the link to my profile, I had at least 10 people click to follow (friend? I don’t know the terminology–shut up, Deborah) me. I added videos to My Story. Whatever in the hell that is.
Do I send the videos out? I had to ask a new “friend” how to even access the pics/videos. I pretended to understand where the Camera Roll was (PSA: it was NOT on my camera or in my gallery). I don’t want to get all creeper-spammy-like and beg people to buy my nonfiction humor book (though, they totes should because that shit is funny). But I might. I mean, it’s got to be better than some of the weird shit men have sent me since the day I got a Facebook account (another PSA: stop using FB to call my computer. I’m not answering, asshole. Also, you will not get a picture from me. And stop sending those damn pics of flowers. It is NOT the same as sending me flowers).
Anyway, I’m trying it out. I have no idea how this is going to go. I feel like a four-year-old with an iPhone. Though, my niece, who is four, has mastered that, so maybe not. If you are an author who rocks the Snapchat, leave me a comment and help a sister out. What do I do once I have the account? How do I connect? Use the app to sell books? I’m open to suggestions, peeps. I’m looking at you, millennials. The under 30 crowd owns this space. Help! …also, I’d really like to know how to access the pics and videos I take so I can send them to my Bro via text message. I found one, but that was luck. Later gators.
Above: Map of the world I’m building…or continent. Whatever. Shut up, Deborah.
For the first time, I am writing something without outlandish, inappropriate humor. It’s been amazing, if not weird, and definitely difficult to stay away from my favorite curse words (i.e. the f-bomb and all its fun variations, such as fuckwad–I really like that one).
I love to read fantasy/paranormal romance, yet, I write mainly New Adult Humor books. Which is odd because I typically don’t read New Adult books; though, I do appreciate a good comedy. Earlier this year, I read a quote that said, “Write what you know,” and it really resonated with me. I do know comedy and humor, and I’ve written it. But I also know fantasy/paranormal romance, if my Kindle purchases are any indication.
Wowzas. I’ve been MIA this month. I’d like to say it’s because I’ve been super productive, but that would be a lie. I’ve been super distracted with small bursts of productivity, all of which surround the new book I’m writing with C.C. Edwards, my brother. The problem lies in the content. Every time I go to edit, I find myself reading, laughing, and wondering what the hell is wrong with us instead of finishing the damn book. Let’s blame C.C. for that, shall we?
It’s official. I have no idea what I’m doing. In life. In parenting. In cooking (shut it, Mom). Now we can add all the stuff that falls under the writing umbrella that isn’t the actual writing of the story–not that I’m great at that, either. I’m talking marketing, social media-ing (is that a word? can I be the one who coined it?), designing book covers, querying, etc. Who has time to do all this shit? Not this girl, and I don’t even have a real job!
My brother and I are wrapping up a nonfiction humor book. We decided to throw a query letter out there. We will likely self-publish, but we wanted to try our hand at being “legit” in the publishing world. Bro left it up to me to write the letter. Big mistake. Huge. Below is how it started:
I Googled and looked at dozens of query letters. They were all so freaking formal and boring. Do publishers like that? Where’s the emotion? The I-gotta-know-more-about-this-author feeling? I know I don’t have that down, but I’m trying.
I attempted writing what the Internet showed me was appropriate. I tried it again. I couldn’t stand it. I’m not good at that sort of thing. So, I decided to write the letter in the same tone as our book. A little rude and a little funny. Unfortunately, I may have pissed off Mr. Man or offended him. Oops. I also may have referenced taking a dump. And by “may have” I mean I totally did. It wasn’t until after I sent the letter I thought, Hmmm, perhaps he won’t appreciate the visual of sitting on the toilet?
Surely, I’m not the first? Oh, I am? I kind of like that. I’m also horrified. I guess I’ll figure out my feelings if Mr. Man contacts me. Either way, it’s kind of funny. Maybe. Dammit. I need validation, Universe.
*If you’re reading this and think you might be interested in getting your hands on the disaster that is our book, click here to sign up to be an ARC reader.