Romance Giveaway Hop

So from the eighth through fourteenth of October, Celebrating Romance is sponsoring a Romace Giveaway Hop. You know what that is, right?
 

If you visit the blogs listed at their site, you'll have the opportunity to win a romance novel. Heck, you'll have the opportunity to win something at every site listed. And yes, this is one of the stops.
 

So what can you win here? That would be a kindle ebook of A Knight in Cowboy Boots. And why should you want to win it? Well, I may be bias, but I think it's a great story. "Why should you believe me?" you ask. Ah, the world is full of skeptics. To help you decide, here's an excerpt.


“Let me get that there drink for the lady, Pete.” Mr. East Texas Drawl stepped up to the bar. “That is, if the lady don’t mind?”

She turned her head cautiously, afraid moving too fast would blur her vision.

Mr. East Texas was watching her, waiting for a cue his offer was welcome.

Maddie cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

Oh, crap. She sounded all Marilyn Monroe breathy.

He handed the bartender a ten. Maddie expected him to pull up the next barstool. Instead, he shoved it over with his foot and leaned one elbow against the bar. “So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Maddie laughed. It should have sounded old, trite, and corny, but nothing said in that drawl could sound anything but enchanting to her. Her laughter lit something deep in Mr. East Texas’s dark eyes. Maddie suddenly felt warm. Sitting-in-front-of-a-raging-fire-on-a-cold-winter-night warm. The flutter in her heart moved into the pit of her stomach.

“Don’t tell the bartender, but I’m casing the place to see if I want his job.” Maddie said, keeping her voice conversational. The bartender's eyebrows rose, but he didn’t comment. He’d no doubt seen this dance often enough.

“Ah, well. Looking for employment. That’s respectable then.” Mr. East Texas nodded sagely. “Though I gotta admit, I was hoping you was here for less reputable reasons.”

“You mean like looking for a man to take me away from all this?” Maddie's open-handed gesture included the entire bar.

“Even the best watering holes have a long tradition of that sorta thing. Why, my daddy met my mamma in a place a lot like this.”

Maddie fought to keep a grin from breaking out across her face. How long had it been since she’d engaged in light-hearted banter, never mind flirting? It seemed like eons. “Really?”

“Well, maybe there wasn’t as much brass and mirrors. Or the selection of beverages this fine establishment has. And there ain’t no straw on the floor nor fiddle player in the corner . . . ” He looked away as though seeking a fiddle player. “And they had dancin’.” His nostrils narrowed with an indrawn breath. His eyes came back to hers. “Damn. A man oughta take a woman dancin’.”

The flutter in Maddie’s stomach moved lower.

“What kind of dancing do you do to fiddle music?”

“The spirited kind.” He let a beat pass before he continued. “But I think you’re the kinda woman a man takes slow dancin’. Someplace where there ain’t much light, so’s nobody’d see when I kissed you.”

He held her eyes, waiting for her response.

Someone down the bar hollered for Pete’s attention and he moved away. Their audience gone, Maddie swiveled on her barstool to face him straight on.

“What if I didn’t want to be kissed?” she asked, knowing her body language sent a completely different message.

“Why, ma’am . . . ” He leaned slowly closer as he spoke. “I don’t think I’d ask first.” His lips brushed hers lightly. Just a gentle touch, as though she’d been kissed almost in passing. He pulled back, but only a couple of inches. Neither of them had closed their eyes. Maddie swallowed, trying to work up some moisture in her suddenly dry mouth.

“My daddy says sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than for permission.”

“Does he?” Maddie forced out.

“Oh, yeah.” His tone was heartfelt. “And I think I may need a passel of forgivin’,” he said just before he kissed her again. 


So now that you're convinced, you're asking, "How do I win a kindle copy of this?"

It's simple. Leave a comment on this blog. On the 19th, I'll get out my magic eight ball (aka Excel's random number generator) and pick the corresponding commenter to win. You can check back on the 19th, or even better, make sure I have a way to contact you to let you know you won.

Make sure you visit the other stops on this hop as well 

Is it Erotica?

I'm published now and that's a wonderful feeling, but there are still a few things that confuse me. Okay, there are a lot of things that confuse me, but we're only going to talk about one today.


I chose Pink Petal Books as my publisher, at least in part, because they have such great covers. (See? Over there on the right. Isn't mine fantastic?) Traditional publishing seems to be falling apart at the seams, so the decision to go with an epublisher made sense to me. Epublishers pretty much got their foot in the door with erotica, and I think, in some people's minds, that mostly what you find there. Now you can find anything from sweet romances to hard-core erotica. I don't know if the numbers still show most of the royalties being paid to erotica authors, but for a long time, that was the common knowledge.


So what am I confused about?


I'm confused about what earns a book the label "erotica."


You see, when I was trying to figure out where my story fell in this wide spectrum, I read some erotica authors like Emma Holly. Some were good, some were not to my taste, but what they had in common was the intense focus on sex. And usually, sex long before there was any sort of emotional bond. Often, at least one of the characters had very liberal views about sex partners and sexual activity (bondage, threesomes, orgies, etc.) Yes, they had a story. Well, the better ones did, but in most cases, I don't think the audience for these books are reading for the riveting plot.


I was saddened. Mostly because I could see I was not going to be getting any steaks from this cash cow. I knew I couldn't write like that. Not comfortably anyway. Yes, my stories are sensual. Spicy. Sexy. I don't close the bedroom door, and I don't wait until the end of the story for my characters to consummate. Love is the payoff, not sex. For me, the emotional lives of the characters are the heartbeat of the story.


So imagine my surprise when I saw that my publisher had listed the book on several distribution sites as, not just erotica, but as five-chili peppers hot erotica.


I cringed. I considered asking them to change it. I knew anyone who expected an Emma-Holly-type story would be disappointed.


In the end, I decided to let it stand. This is their business, after all, and I'd chosen to trust them with my baby. I don't want to second guess their every decision, but it has led me to question how one decides what is erotica and what isn't. Is it like my definition of kinky? (Kinky = something I wouldn't do. This is a wonderful definition, BTW, since it means that if I'll do it, by definition, it isn't kinky.)


Isabel Allende is quoted as saying, "Erotica is when you use a feather, porn is when you use the whole chicken." So maybe erotica has to do with the size of your feather because there's a whole world of difference between a chicken feather and an ostrich feather.

So help me figure this out. What makes a story erotica in your mind? Where do you draw the line? 

Six Sentence Sunday - A Knight in Cowboy Boots #9 & a Giveaway

This week, in addition to sharing a six sentence snippet, I'm going to give away a copy of my ebook A Knight in Cowboy Boots to one lucky commenter, so be sure I have a way to contact you if you win.

This scene is between our hero and his sister. Rachel is the concierge at the hotel where Zach's lady love works. She's also the oldest girl of a very large family, so she can be a little on the bossy side.

Rachel spun toward him, dropping his arm to point a threatening finger at him. “No!”

Zach set his jaw. “I’m getting a little tired of being told ‘no’ by the women around here like I’m a puppy who’s just piddled on the carpet. I got no interest in working my way through your staff, but if I did, you couldn’t stop me.”

“Really?” She said, her voice dripping wicked speculation.

 
     Zach’s body instinctively tried to suck his balls inside.  
 

Don't forget to leave a comment to win a copy of A Knight in Cowboy Boots.



Other six sentence excerpts of mine can be found here.


If you want to see more Six Sentence samples, go here for the list of this week's participants.


If you want to participate in the future, here's a FAQ.