Writing Through Stress

 This seems like the perfect time for this post, as my life is very stressful and I’m trying to write through it.

Stress can be a career killer.

I had this happen in the past. Due to some incredibly stressful situations in my worklife, I didn’t write original fiction for almost seven years. Oh, I tried. At first, daily, and then, when it got to be too hard, I didn’t open up the manuscript for weeks. It was this black cloud hanging over me and I didn’t seem to be able to get beyond that to write anything. The stories were in my head, but my anxiety didn’t allow me to move forward.

Last August, my job situation changed. I was laid off with zero notice, and as I was a contractor, there were no benefits, no unemployment to claim. To make matters worse, several months of pay were in limbo for months.

Stress Number One, achieved.

Since then, I’ve been dealing with a major medical crisis—two actually, I’m an overachiever, have lost three of my cats, have set up a new business, and a couple of weeks ago, my husband lost his job with two days notice, no severance package, nada, not even payment of expenses owed :/

So…stress upon stress central here at Casa Alexa. You’d think that if one situation (above) had blocked my writing, this would have paralyzed my muse and had her rocking in a corner somewhere, right?

You’d be wrong. For some reason—some blessing in my psyche I don’t even dare to understand—I’m writing more than ever. I’m writing so much that I’m astounding myself, my word count spreadsheets are showing wear and tear, and my poor hands are begging for someone to save them.

This time, my muse is far from rocking in a corner, she’s dancing a jig and throwing me plot ideas faster than I can jot them down. And I couldn’t be happier. Writing is a huge stress relief, a way for me to get out of my present worries and into someone else’s issues.

I wrote my Naughty Escapes story—Get Away—in two days. Yes, two days! The story is 13,000 words and even my beta reader couldn’t keep up with my productivity. She finally threw her hands up and said she’d read it at the end rather than a s a work in progress. I chewed my nails down to bloody nubs wondering if Kell and Bry would strike a chord with her. She’s a tough beta, so I expected the worst. What I got back was anything but. She loved the story. And furthermore, she…er…“encouraged” me, with help from my evil little muse, to write a follow up story for them, and maybe even another story featuring Kell’s sexy guitar player, Ace. I’ll be revisiting Kell and Bry in the Naughty Literati fall anthology, coming in September.

It is funny how my workplace stress caused my writing to grind to a halt, while my homelife stress, which is so much larger in scope and impact, is giving me more inspiration to write.

The brain is a funny funny thing!

To check out the story of Kell, a former boyband singer, and Bry, an A-List Hollywood actor, check out Get Away in Naughty Escapes, out now!

Going Back In Time...

I have always had a strange reaction to historical places.  As a little girl, my mother took me to a place in Georgia called Kolomoki Mounds. Covering some three hundred acres, it is one of the larger preserved burial mound sites in the United States. The mounds consist of Georgia's largest great temple mound, two burial mounds and four smaller ceremonial mounds.  Mounds A, D, and E, which form the central axis of the site, align with the sun at the spring equinox. Mounds F and D form an alignment with the sun at the summer solstice. It is not hard to understand that the ancient culture designed their worship around the heavenly bodies...as have many civilizations.

The first time I visited the mounds, I was about eight years old. I remember looking up at my my mother--who was part Cherokee Indian--and telling her I felt 'funny'. To this day I remember her smile and nod and what she said: "I knew you would. It is the spirits you are feeling. They know you."  Instead of being afraid of her words, I was oddly comforted by them. I could feel a closeness around me like welcoming arms and that was not the last time I felt that way.

In the ninth grade, my BBF and I took a trip to Savannah for the weekend with my parents. We visited Fort Pulaski on Cockspur Island. It is an old civil war-era fort that was used as a prisoner of war camp. As Marti and I strolled through the fort, I had the feeling we were not alone--though no one was near us. I could feel the presence of the spirits watching me and at one point I stopped, asked her if she saw the young man sitting in the shadow-filled cell. She just stared at me and I knew she didn't. From that moment on, the sensations bombarded me left and right until tears were streaming down my cheeks. From that visit I wrote my novel IN THE WIND'S EYE. 

When I was our church's secretary, my desk in the office of the old converted automobile showroom where I worked for seven years sat on the exact spot where Bonnie and Clyde's death car had been put on display. There were stains on the concrete floor that came up through the carpet. Spots no one and nothing could get out. It's said the spots are blood that dripped from the bullet-riddled car. All I know for a certainty is that I never liked being alone in that office with no one else in the huge building. The feelings I had weren't comforting and I never felt at ease. Shadows moved that shouldn't have been there and there were cold spots near my desk that made the hairs stand up on my arms.

In other words, I am very cognizant of what lies beyond what we perceive as reality. I do not commune with spirits but I can feel their presence. Whether they are sad, lost, happy or angry...I seem to be able to pick up on their long ago emotions. That has been a comfort to me since my husband's passing in 2009. I've heard him, seen him and felt him many times. The last time I saw him alive was in our bedroom and in that very spot there is a warmth that never leaves the room. I now sleep on the side of our bed where he used to sleep because I knew I would never be able to look at his side without seeing him there as I did that last morning. I might have swapped sides but so did he. The very expensive memory foam mattress that should not hold an indention of the side where I used to sleep developed indentions a few days after his funeral--indentions where a heavy person's upper body and feet would be. My sons have turned the mattress over and yet the indentions return. They swapped the head for the foot and the indentions come back. They turned it over and swapped head for foot and yet the indentions are always there. No one believes me until they have actually seen those indentions for themselves.

The summer of 2007, my husband won a trip to Cancun, Mexico for his work with AFLAC. We were really excited because we wanted to visit Chichén Itzá, the sprawling pre-Columbian city built by the ancient Maya people. It was a hot day in August, sweltering when our tour bus drove into the parking area. Getting out of the air conditioned vehicle, the humidity slapped us in the face with a heavy hand. Within minutes I was sweating profusely. As we ventured into the ruins, the old familiar feelings began to creep over me and my body temperature declined.  I remember reaching out to take my husband's hand because I was being flooded with emotions I did not understand. He put his arm around me when I shivered for he knew I was experiencing once again--as I had at the Little Big Horn, Fort Robinson (where Crazy Horse was killed), and all the old battlefields we'd visited over the years. Things he could not comprehend, could not feel but accepted as part of who his wife was.

It was a dusty spot with sparse grass back in 2007. No commercialization had ruined the starkness of the ancient buildings. No greedy merchants were hawking plastic and plaster souvenirs. No ropes circled the old structures to keep tourists from climbing and exploring. Pictures of Chichén Itzá today make me very, very sad. No one is allowed on the great pyramid El Castillo, the Temple of Kulkulkan. Back then you could wonder through the observatory, the buildings, clap your hands at the ball court and marvel at the acoustics. You could climb El Castillo to see the jaguar throne. How thankful I am my husband climbed the ninety-odd steps to the top of that giant pyramid to look out over the lush jungles. Although I held my breath as he descended those short steps--fearful he would fall--it was one of the highlights of his life he told me.

At one point, I stood staring at a shimmering haze near the Cenote Sagrado (a large natural sinkhole where human sacrifices were made). Only one other person standing nearby seemed to be experiencing what I was. He looked at me and smiled knowingly. I nodded for I, too, felt the sadness and terror emanating from that weed-choked hole. I felt cold even though the air around me was steaming. When the authors of Naughty Literati decided to write about holidays and vacation spots for our summer anthology NAUGHTY ESCAPES, I jumped at the chance to write a story about Chichén Itzá. The memories, the feelings, the sensations I felt there--and brought home to Iowa with me--were so vivid, so intense they have stayed bright and sharp all this time.  

As I sat down at my desk to begin writing The WyndMaster's Escape, I felt the presence of my husband hovering nearby. On our plane ride home from our vacation in 2007, I entertained my husband with the tale of a futuristic warrior who went back through a wormhole into Earth's ancient past to visit Chichén Itzá during the Summer Solstice when a rare occurrence takes place. Thousands gather there each year to witness the phenomenon. Of how he found his destiny among the ancient ruins. Tommy had been fascinated with the tale and even suggested the names of the characters but I had never put the story to page. Once I began writing, the story of Santos and Marisol took on a life of its own. In fact, it was such an engrossing tale for me I went far beyond the set word count the NL has for our stories. Because my editor didn't want to cast aside the story as it was, we decided to split it into two stories. You'll be able to read the second part of Santi's and Mari's love story The WyndMaster's Homecoming in our autumn anthology NAUGHTY REUNIONS.

As you read The WyndMaster's Escape, I hope you will think of those who came before us. Of how much we owe to the shades and spirits who walk the ancient ruins of Chichén Itzá and all the other places were great happiness and sadness has visited the civilizations. And when you do, think of a woman who journeyed there with the great love of her life...the last vacation two lovers would ever take together. Then you will know why this particular story has such great meaning for me.

I wrote "The End"! by Suz deMello

Very little compares to the bliss of finishing a project, whether it be a 100,000 word novel or a 7K shortie, like the one I completed last night.

Yes, I got to write "The End" on the short story I wrote for the Naughty Literati's autumn anthology, due to be published on September 25.

This boxed set is called Naughty Reunions, and that's its theme--a return to romance between lovers, former lovers, or not-yet-lovers--or any other combination that our clever band of authors can invent.

As for my story, it's about one of these:

image by Rene at da.wikipedia

who can transmute into one of these:

image by Ben69jamin

who is loved by one of these:

image by Beercha

and is liberated from one of these:

image by Figaro at en.wikipedia

but not without hassles, of course--what's a story without some conflict? Boring, that's what.

I hope you'll love it as much as I loved writing it!

Or, rather, as much as I loved finishing it. 

So what do authors do when they complete a project? 

Well, we all have different styles. I sometimes drink Champagne or go out for a nice dinner. But I've been very social lately and wanted a quiet evening at home. So I sat down with one of these:

public domain image
from wikimedia commons

and one of these:

image by Kumano3
from wikimedia commons

and this:

and had a lovely time.

What a Sexy Man Can Do For You

Sit back and fantasize with me about sexy men and how useful they can be.

Things a sexy man can do:

1. Give you a massage. Just imagine those strong, masculine hands molding your flesh as you lie serenely in a panting combination of bliss and desire. He starts by your shoulders and then his hands travel lower, lower, lower.

Are you squirming yet? How about when he begs you to turn over so he can do a complete job?

2. Wait on you "hand and foot". Picture him telling you to relax while he serves you a drink called "Sex on the Beach". Then he disappears into the kitchen to whip up a romantic dinner for two...wearing nothing but a VERY short apron, a smile, and a cute bow tie.

Did you reach out to touch his hot body?

3. Prepare a bubble bath for two. He leads you into the bathroom and turns on the tub's faucet, adjusting it so it's "just right". After adding the bubble bath soap, he removes his clothing...slowly, and swivels his body in all directions so you don't miss a thing. Next, he offers to undress you before you both step into the tub, bubbles popping, so he can help you enjoy a relaxing soak.

Do you run your fingers down his muscular body as he begins to unbutton your blouse?

4. Satisfy your sexual needs. He leads you into a bedroom where he's lit dozens of candles to add ambiance to the room. The aroma of lavender, roses, vanilla, or whatever is your favorite, mingles with his all-male scent. He's placed satin sheets on the bed...in your favorite color. You lie down, and he tells you to enjoy the evening, since he plans to cater to your every wish. Your urges and requests become his dedicated demands.

Have you told him what you want done first, fast, and all night?

Now that I have you panting with images of that special sexy man you've always desired, you can answer the questions in your dreams. You will dream about him tonight, won't you?

Marianne Stephens
http://www.mariannestephens.net
http://www.romancebooks4us.com
http://naughtyliterati.com
Naughty Literati Anthologies:
Naughty List
Naughty Hearts
Naughty Flings
Naughty Escapes

What is Plus-Size?

I write plus-size heroines. Always have. Always will. That's what my tag line, "Romance with Dangerous Curves" actually means to me. It means a Francesca Hawley heroine is a big girl. A girl with curves.

In modern parlance, plus-size seems to mean anyone who isn't a size 0-2 or 4. By modern standards, Marilyn Monroe is plus size. That just seems whacked out to me. Marilyn was a round, healthy girl. But times have changed, and not always for the better.

The modeling world classifies models who are size 12 and above to be full figure models. That's nuts. But considering that the modeling industry worships a size 0, so I suppose I shouldn't expect anything different . Sad but true.

My view is that any woman size 16 and over regardless of how the weight was distributed is a woman with "dangerous curves" and she might be one of my heroines.

Tall or short - it doesn't matter. They are size 16 (US) or above. Women deserve love regardless of size and we aren't just a number...we're people. With hearts and minds and souls who yearn for happiness and partnership.

Beauty comes in all sizes. Love comes in all sizes. And I just want to write about women who look like me who get their happily ever after with the partner of their dreams. I also like to write about heroes who love those curves. Men who like big butts. Full breasts. Who dig a woman's jiggly bits. Who see dangerous curves and want to explore every inch of them...more than once.

In my latest romance for Naughty Escapes, Allyson Rayburn is a voluptuous heroine and Ross Morgan loves every inch of her sexy curves. 

Shake it Up! ~ Francesca Hawley
After a mild quake in San Francisco, Allyson Rayburn gets stuck in the same elevator as Ross Morgan, the Dom who’d been at the other end of a flogger at a private club the night before. Her day just got interesting.

Here's a sample for your reading pleasure...

Excerpt from Shake It Up by Francesca Hawley

Copyright © Francesca Hawley, 2015
Chapter One

“Hold that elevator, please!” Allyson Rayburn rushed in as a strong tanned male hand held the doors open for her. “Thanks so much!”
Leaning against the back of the elevator, she smiled at the man who shared the space with her and almost swallowed her tongue. She felt heat rise to her face as she met his discerning green eyes. His gaze slid down to her feet and back up, then his lips curved. Oh, god, she wanted to crawl under a rock.
Last night, she’d had her first flogging at Erotically Bound, a private BDSM club here in San Francisco. The hand at the other end of the flogger had been his. It had been an amazing, sensual experience that had nearly had her crying out with an orgasm. She’d been so close, but she’d been too self-conscious to relax and let it happen.
The club visit was research for her latest book and she’d agreed to participate because Vicki knew the guy and said he was a sensual Dom who wasn’t really into rough S&M play. Ally had fun but she’d never expected to see him again. Not in a million years.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Miss Newbie.”
Her face heated more, but she forced a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Bull.” He laughed. “You couldn’t be more mortified.”
“You’re assuming…”
“Am I wrong?”
He wasn’t, damn it. She was embarrassed. He’d known how close she was to coming when she called a halt. Even now, her nipples pulled into tight little points and her clit throbbed just thinking about it. About him. Her gaze dropped from his.
“I didn’t think I was,” he said.
She prayed this damn elevator would move faster so she could escape. Experiencing a bit of BDSM play was fine because she wanted her story to have some authenticity, but the closeness she’d felt with him last night had jolted her. She’d been in long-term relationships that hadn’t reached that level of intimacy.
“You don’t have to sound so damn smug,” she grumbled.
“Smugness has nothing to do with it.”
“Then what does it have to do with?” She threw back her head, glaring at him.
“Knowing.”
The curve of his lips and the light in his eyes intrigued her, forcing her to remember the stroke of his fingertips on her bare heated back after he’d flogged her.
“Knowing what?”
“That the touch of the leather thongs aroused you. I know it and you’re fearful because I get you.”
“You’re wrong.” She shrugged, pretending unconcern as the elevator made its slow way up inside the building. She looked up at the indicator above the doors. Hurry up. Hurry up!
“No, I’m not,” he argued.
“You’re also arrogant.”
He chuckled. “I’ll own that one, but I wouldn’t call it arrogance. I’d call it confidence.”
“Whatever you may think, no one likes having someone know them too well.”
“Now, you’re wrong.”
She turned to him, ready to confront him when the shaking began. At first gently, but then there was almost a rocking to it. She lost her footing and landed in the corner of the elevator with a shriek. She screamed again when something fell from the ceiling and hit her shoulder before bouncing to the floor. She curled into a ball, covering her head to wait out the quake. The Dom sheltered her body protectively with his own, which made her feel safe. After what seemed like hours but was really less than a minute, the quaking stopped. The abrupt cessation of movement startled her. She remained still, waiting for it to start again.
“Are you all right?” he asked, patting her down.
“Yes.” She nodded, lifting her head to meet his gaze. He was so close they could almost kiss. “Are you?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He sighed, leaning in, but then he shook his head slightly as if telling himself no, before he stood up and pressed the elevator button. Nothing happened. “Shit. I bet the damn elevator is stuck. It doesn’t work very well on a normal day, but after an earthquake it’ll be worse.”
“Do you come to this building often?” Maybe she was worried for nothing. Maybe he and Vicki had a thing.
“Your friend, Mistress Vicki, is my realtor. I just bought some property I plan to develop. I was headed up to sign the paperwork.”
“Oh.”
He glanced at her and she saw a smile return to his mouth, crinkles setting into the skin at the corner of his lips and eyes. He was so incredibly good looking. Not pretty. Masculine. A wild masculine beauty that translated to straight brows, a square jaw, full lips and a hard body. He was her fantasy embodied, right down to the brown hair and green eyes.
What was wrong with her? She’d just experienced her first San Francisco earthquake, but instead of worrying about the elevator car plummeting to the bottom of the shaft, she was focused on this delicious Dom.

Naughty Escapes Contest Winner

Thanks to everyone who entered our contest celebrating the release of our latest boxed-set, Naughty Escapes. The contest was a smashing success with more than 800 entries. Our winner was chosen at random by the contest widget.

And the winner is...
Gloria S. from Chicago. Congratulations, Gloria! You'll be receiving an email. We hope you enjoy the Kindle full of great books!


Happy Reading,
The Naughty Literati

Reminiscing

On April 21 it was five years since Siren published my first erotic romance, “Intensity”. On 1 June my second erotic romance was released at a different publisher and in July I had an MF romance debut at a third publisher. Then in September my second erotic ménage was released by Siren. After five years publishing erotic romance I’m very aware that almost none of the authors I knew then are still writing. Or if they are, they’re using names I don’t recognize.
Today I have 110 unique titles published, not counting ones I’ve gotten the rights back to and self-published or made into anthologies, and not counting print books or audio books of ebooks. Five of the publishers I’ve been with have closed or I’ve no longer wanted to be associated with them. All but once I managed to get all my rights back in time. I’m still very happy writing for three different publishers, as well as doing some indi publishing.

Being part of the Naughty Literati is a new type of venture for me. I’ve self published some old books out of contract for which I’ve gotten my rights back. Some of them I even made into anthologies of similar kinds of books. I have one of male/male romances and another of lesbian romances for example.

I’ve written a story for each of the Naughty Literati’s boxed sets so far. A ménage for Naughty List, “Jewel’s Ménage Christmas”, and MM stories for the next three. “Chocolate-Coated Reunion” for Naughty Hearts, “The Loch Ness Monster, Romeo and Julio” for Naughty Flings, and “Fireworks at the Lake” for Naughty Escapes.
I enjoy reading across a range of genres so that’s the way I write as well, across genres.

Here’s a taste of “Fireworks at the Lake”.
Andrew didn’t want to spend the Fourth of July long weekend with the people from the office so he goes to Lake Superior instead.
There he sees Luke, a blond Viking who arouses every craving for love and lust inside him. But can he overcome his low self-esteem from when Rory rejected his love and open his heart to another man?

Excerpt
Andrew had spent most of the afternoon trying not to stare at the blond Viking stretched out on a lawn chair with the ripples from the lake running up and over his toes. The blond had removed his T-shirt and placed his Stetson over his face, but not before Andrew had seen the intense blue of his eyes and the sharp ridge of his nose. Since then Andrew had spent his time appreciating the Viking’s muscled arms and shoulders, his ripped abs and the long, long line of his legs—right down to the toes currently buried under an inch of water. Long, narrow toes, a fitting ending to the long, lean legs that disappeared inside baggy, knee-length shorts.
Likely, his view of the Viking was going to be the most exciting part of his Fourth of July weekend this year. Still, life wasn’t too bad. In fact, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. A bunch of the people from the office had planned to spend the day at a cookout in a city park. Andrew didn’t mind working with them, but he wasn’t ready to spend his vacation days with them as well, which was why he’d decided to come here to the lake for the three-day Fourth of July weekend.
Originally he’d planned to stay on the shore until the nine o’clock “family” fireworks display, then head back into the small tourist town for a meal before the midnight lakeside fireworks. But now his plans were liable to change. If the Viking stayed here, he’d stay. If the Viking went off with friends, that would be the end of his happy thoughts of getting to know the man. The only problem was, he hadn’t quite worked out how to get to know the blond yet.
Part of Andrew wanted to just sit and wait. The Viking had been lying there for a couple of hours already, and unless he planned to get quite wet, he’d have to move his lawn chair soon, as the tide was coming in. Likely when he stood up, Andrew could catch his gaze and say hello. Or something. On the other hand, it seemed rude to keep staring—or pretending not to stare—and not speak. But then, perhaps it would be safer to do nothing at all and just wait and watch. So Andrew waited and watched and tried to make up his mind what to do. Part of the problem was that his relationship with Rory had damaged his self-confidence.
He’d loved Rory passionately, far more passionately than Rory had ever loved him. Andrew had wanted them to live together, to settle down, to be a real couple, but Rory had never agreed to that. Gradually Andrew had realized that they were drifting apart, no matter how hard he’d tried to keep them together. Finally he’d understood that although Rory had been the man for him, he couldn’t fulfill Rory. After that had come a time of intense pain and anguish. A time when he’d wondered if he’d ever be enough to make another man happy. But that was last year, and Andrew was ready to try again. But only with someone who at least thought he might be able to love Andrew back.
Andrew stared at the Viking. He knew nothing about this man except that the blond was delicious eye-candy. However, something strong and powerful drew him to the Viking. Could this be his chance at happiness? Or would it be just another Rory who couldn’t return his love?

Buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Naughty-Escapes-Eleven-Vacation-Getaways-ebook/dp/B00ZJJ1QSC/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1434251533&sr=1-1&keywords=Naughty+Escapes

Berengaria Brown’s links:
Blog: http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/
Website: http://berengariabrown.com/
Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/berengaria-brown
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Berengaria-Brown/e/B00541R3YQ/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1419237103&sr=1-2-ent
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/berengaria.brown?fref=ts
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BerengariaBrown
ARe: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Berengaria+Brown

Naughty Escapes video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xG3buFFmJrw

Why I Set My Story at Lake Como

Many years ago, I spent some time in northern Italy, studying the language and culture. I had a wonderful few months exploring Milan and Como, checking out museums and medieval buildings and new shops full of the latest fashions and gorgeous silk accessories.

Photo CreditThis work has been released into the public domain by its author, Joyborg at the German Wikipedia project. This applies worldwide. Joyborg grants anyone the right to use this work for any purpose, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.

One of most vivid memories is of Lake Como, driving around it and sailing on it. It has to be one of the most beautiful places in the world. Nestled in the southern edge of the Alps, surrounded by hills and mountains, the lake has some of the bluest water I’ve ever seen.

Small towns and grand villas lines its coasts, often nestled into the sides of the hills. A variety of boats, from small fishing skiffs and motorboats, all the way up to steamers and ferries, ply its waters. During my stay I was fortunate to take an all-day cruise on the lake, stopping at a couple of the towns, where I walked up streets into fabulous, colorful markets.

The place is close to paradise on earth, which is undoubtedly why celebrities like George Clooney have chosen to acquire summer homes (or should I say summer mansions?) there.

And it’s why I gave my hero a villa there. When he asks a former student he’s never forgotten to check out some paintings for him, he meets her there. It was absolutely the most romantic setting I could imagine.

Keeping Sex Between the Covers by Regina Kammer

It's almost July 4th and in the United States we're celebrating Independence Day! I have a special promotion for July. See the end of this post!

I generally write historical erotic romance, although I have also written contemporary, mythological, and Steampunk. But my comfort zone is historicals because I’m a historian and, I suppose, I’ve internally fetishized history to a certain extent.

I’ve written stories that take place in ancient Roman and Victorian England. But my favorite book I've written takes place in New York state and is set in 1777 during the American Revolution.

The General's Wife: An American Revolutionary Tale is an eighteenth-century adventure that’s part erotica (sexual awakening of the heroine) and part romance (a happily-ever-after). Our heroine, Lady Clara Strathmore, encounters three heroes and one villain. Her lady's maid encounters two heroes and the same villain plus half a dozen Hessians. Let's just say there's a whole lot of sexy action along with politics, intrigue, and humor.

It's also an award-nominated novel.

However, the book had a problem. There was a naked lady on the cover of the 2013 edition and Amazon, the world’s foremost retailer of books and ebooks, does not like nudity on covers. So Amazon slapped an Adult Filter on the book making it very difficult for readers to find or “discover” (as the parlance goes).

I’ve discussed this at length on my blog, so won’t discuss it here. But the end result was: if I ever wanted readers to find the book, I had to change my cover. All the sexy bits had to be between the covers, not on the cover.

There was a bit of a risk involved. There is no guarantee that changing a cover will get that Adult Filter taken down. Amazon’s policies on the matter (actually all their policies on all matters) are mutable, vague, and somewhat random. I’ve heard all sorts of stories about how a glimpse of a woman’s bare back was a no-no for one author, but bound hands and a bit of butt is okay for another. And that sometimes it is the combination of the book blurb and the cover, so if your request for removal of the Adult Filter is denied, you won’t know if it is the cover or the blurb because Amazon won’t tell you.

I wanted to do this right, which meant paying for a new cover, with money I don’t have because no one is buying my book they can’t find! So I took the plunge and got a new cover.



[Isn’t it gorgeous?] I uploaded my new cover and wrote to Amazon asking them to please remove the Adult Filter. A day later I got this reply:

After further review, we have decided to remove the search restrictions so your book will now be found in our general product search results.

I squealed in glee! I was ecstatic! So much so, I’ve put the Kindle edition of The General's Wife on sale for only 99¢! I want everyone to read it! I’m keeping the sale going until the end of July.

If you enjoyed my American Revolution short story in Naughty List, you'll love The General's Wife! It's a fun, frolicking, Revolutionary read!

History has never been sexier.

Naughty Escapes - Available Now!

Naughty Escapes is available now! Get your copy

Eleven Naughty Vacation Getaways

including BBW, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark Fantasy, M/M, Ménage, Paranormal & Shape-shifter, from Amazon bestselling authors!

Take a naughty trip around the world with us to a penthouse playroom in San Francisco, the shore of Lake Superior, a deserted island in The Bermuda Triangle, a Mob-controlled nightclub in pre-revolutionary Havana, along the River Cam near Cambridge University in England, a sex club in Paris, a nude beach in Barcelona, the ancient Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza, Lake Como Italy, Germany, and a swanky condo in Zurich.

Sex Me Up ~ Nicole Austin
One night at a Paris sex club—no-strings, complications or inhibitions—just lots of fantasy sex. But in the morning I forgot the most important rule. Never run from a feline predator—they live for the chase.

The WyndMaster’s Escape ~ Charlotte Boyett-Compo
A love as old as time can sometimes lead to a future one warrior never wanted.

Fireworks at the Lake ~ Berengaria Brown
Andrew didn’t want to spend the Fourth of July long weekend with the people from the office so he goes to Lake Superior instead. There he sees Luke, a blond Viking who arouses every craving for love and lust inside him. But can he overcome his low self-esteem from when Rory rejected his love and open his heart to another man?

Punting on the River Cam ~ Lainey-Jo Charles
Having escaped being roped into wedding party activities, two American strangers turn a day of sightseeing in Cambridge, England into a series of passionate encounters.

One Hot Havana Night ~ Suz deMello
Havana, 1958… On the eve of the revolution, journalist Ellie Wheeler dreams of the biggest story of her life. Two hot men make all her dreams come true—even ones she didn’t know she had.

Shake it Up! ~ Francesca Hawley
After a mild quake in San Francisco, Allyson Rayburn gets stuck in the same elevator as Ross Morgan, the Dom who’d been at the other end of a flogger at a private club the night before. Her day just got interesting.

Window Display ~ Regina Kammer
The apartment in Zurich was supposed to be the perfect disruption-free place to finish my dissertation. Trouble is, my room came with a very distracting view.

The Lake by Moonlight ~ Katherine Kingston
Julie Forrester returns to Lake Como in Italy to evaluate some paintings for a former professor–and to re-evaluate her relationship with the man.

Moon Dance ~ Terry Rissen

The Bermuda Love Triangle ~ Belle Scarlett
Castaway on a deserted island in the Bermuda Triangle, Trista finds herself torn between two sexy shifters who desire her, but refuse to share her.

Get Away ~ Alexa Silver
A-list actor Bryson runs into a gorgeous—and very naked—man on a Barcelona beach. Kell looks familiar but Bry can’t quite place him. After a sexually-charged meeting, they go their separate ways, or so Bry thinks. Fate comes knocking with an invitation to a party, and a date with destiny.