Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Who has ventured to the dark side?? This girl!

So I have ventured into the world of BDSM. It was an incredible journey with these characters and I love Heather and Jack so much that I may end up writing a sequel to their story. I think they're worthy of it.

Their first time still gets me all hot and bothered when I read it, and I've read that scene many times over.

Their upheaval still makes me teary.

It's a story of growth, and learning to trust not only someone else, but yourself and your heart again. It was a story I lived very closely, though through different circumstances.

I am deeply honored to be a part of this anthology with these incredible authors, and I'm humbled by the support they've all shown not only me, but each other through the process.

Heather Ross vowed after a decade of being controlled by her husband that she would never trust her heart with someone again. That is until her best friend moves in to help her through being a single mom. His gentle, playful nature made her remember what she always wanted in a man, waking desires she thought long buried deep in her soul.
Jack Stevens never imagined that moving in with Heather every fantasy and dream he’d concocted to get him through lonely nights would come true. The day Heather confessed her desire for him Jack swore he would use every tool in his arsenal learned as a Dom to help her trust him completely even with his own lingering skeletons.
Can Heather learn to trust Jack when she has been deprived of her true desires for too long?
Grab your tissues and learn to trust again with passionate sensory play.

All ten of these incredible stories are up for preorder now!! Get the links on Dirtydoms.com today!!! Also be on the lookout for our teaser edition that features 2000 words from each story to give you a little peek into what's to come!

Each story is sure to heat up your screens and your nights!

Ten of your favorite NY Times, USA Today, and Amazon best-selling authors have delved into the world of BDSM Kink. Explore your darkest desires, and deepest secrets under the expert care of a sexy Alpha Dom.

(Capture) Fantasy Surrender by: Lori King
(Corporal Punishment) The Beauty and the Badass by: Lucy Felthouse
(Orgasm Control) Secrets & Lies by: Serena Akeroyd
(Impact Play) Sizzle by: McKinlay Thomson
(Pet Play) Club Menage: Fifi by: Tara Crescent
(Bondage) Binding Her To Him by: TL Reeve
(Fire Play) Kaise by: Jade Belfry
(Daddy Dom) Professor Knows Best by: Juliet Braddock
(Sensory Deprivation) Deprived by: Jordan Ashley
(Medical Play) Electric by: C.P. Mandara


Chapter 3

Heather stopped in her bedroom, staring at the bed that would soon hold both of them, wrapped up together the way she’d imagined for way too long. She knew she loved Jack, but taking it to this level this fast? Was it something she should be doing? She turned to look at him, stopped in her bedroom doorway and knew if she didn’t have his body pressed against her, she might explode.
She loved Jack and trusted him more than anyone else. But this kind of intimacy was scary shit. This meant something deeper, this meant a commitment, especially where she was concerned, and she knew he understood that. Was she really ready for that?
It was a question she wasn’t sure she had for the answer to. She cared deeply for him, and she did trust him, he and Teresa were probably the only two adults in her life she could say she valued and cherished. Jack had been there for her like no one else had been, and she could never repay him for it. 
The back of her knees hit the mattress, and she looked into his hazel eyes, which were quickly turning a shade of green she’d never seen before. A flash of something dark and primal inched its way into every piece of him. He braced himself against the doorjamb with one hand, the other resting on the waist of his jeans was confident, almost egotistically so. At least it’s what it would appear to be if she didn’t know him as well as she did. She knew it was because of their conversation, what he’d learned while they had lost touch with each other. He was beginning to slip into Dom mode. His eyes narrowed, and a look so raw and possessive captured her attention and made her freeze in place.
“Jack?” Heather could hear how her voice shook and knew her sudden fear over the situation was clear as day as she clenched her hands together in front of her.
“Where are you?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her.
She tried to remember the steps of safety he’d spoke of and swallowed roughly. “Yellow.”
He nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped toward her. “If you don’t want to do this, you need to tell me, Heather. We can stop this before it even begins.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted, look down at the floorboards, and focused on the edge of her geometric area rug near the toes of her socks.
“Of what?”
“Losing you. I don’t want to fuck everything up, Jack. It’s what I’m good at, alright? If we start this, and it doesn’t work out, where will that leave us?”
A second passed, and she heard his footsteps coming toward her, stopping within her line of sight on the pale pine floor where she could see the edge of his black and white Nikes. She closed her eyes and took in another deep breath, hating that even that shook. His hands cupped either side of her face and put the gentlest pressure on her jaw to make her look up at him. The distance between her eyes and his was ridiculous. Over a foot taller than her, Jack looked down at her with compassion and understanding.
“I have gone over that scenario too many times to count. What if she rejects this? What if she hates me? What if, what if, what if? But if you spend your life dwelling on the what ifs, you’re never going to enjoy your life. Sure you’ll breathe, and you’ll pay your bills, but will you really live? What did you tell me downstairs, Heather? I don’t beg anyone for anything, but I’m begging you to let me help you live again, beautiful. If you tell me no, I will step away, and we can forget this ever happened. We can forget the conversation and what almost could have happened. But if you don’t—if you don’t, I will make certain every second I get to spend with you, no matter if it’s one night or every night from here on out is lived to its fullest potential. I will give you everything you want.”
Heather audibly gulped. It sounded too good to be true, and yet Jack never lied to her. He’d never deceived her, so what evidence did she have in the last two years that could potentially suggest that he would start now? With Allen, every action was directed to control and manipulation. Jack had pushed her to go to school, to help her make something of herself. He’d stayed at home with the girls while she went out with Teresa and her classmates when she needed the rare night to unwind. Everything boiled down to if she wanted to continue existing with the emptiness she felt widening further with every day, or if she wanted to actually start to live her life again.
“Slow,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. She raised her hands to rest on his forearms, feeling the muscles with her thumbs. “Just go slow and be patient with me.”
Jack leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers a moment before he pulled back and kissed her there. It was a gesture he’d done many times before then, but at that moment, it meant much more than ever before. He lingered for only a moment before pulling away and turning to close the bedroom door. He kept his back to her and took in a breath before he spoke to her again.
“There are a few things you need to understand about this, Heather. One: That will be the last time I speak your name until this scene is over, understand?” She hummed a response, and he turned, his gaze so heavy she felt her shoulders come forward. “Two: You respond with ‘Yes, Sir’ or ‘Yes, Master’ I will allow you to choose this one time.”
Heather’s eyes widened, and she felt a little indignant about being told what to say until she forced herself to take a breath and remind herself it was part of their scene. A little smile played at the corner of her lips, and cheekily she responded to him. “Yes, Master.”
That stalled him for a moment, and she could see the visible shiver that ran through him. “Good girl,” and then she was certain the shiver that ran through her hearing his response to her was visible as well. She couldn’t explain why his words affected her to the point she was pressing her thighs together, and butterflies swelled in her stomach.
“Three: you are going to submit to me. You will be expected to do everything I tell you to do, and unless you say the safe word, I will expect you to continue doing it. Understood?”
“Yes, Master.” She couldn’t help herself, the word had such a good effect on him last time, she had to do it again, and sure enough he had to take a deep breath before he spoke again.
“Now, pet, you remember the safe word?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Repeat it to me so I’m certain you remember.”
“Red. Like a stoplight.”
Jack was in front of her again, his gaze predatory and instantly she could feel his aura change, and the mood in the room had shifted. He brought his hands up, brushing the back of his fingers across her cheeks, his fingertips pressing on the back of her neck, helping to tilt her head back. “You need a trinket for this neck. First thing tomorrow I want you to pick out a few chokers and book mark them on the desktop. When you want a scene, you will place the choker on your neck, allow me to see it, and then meet me up here. Understand?”
She nodded in what little amount of movement his hold would allow and whispered her response. His presence was different, commanding, pleasantly triggering her desire to submit. She wouldn’t deny she was enjoying it.
“When you come up and ready yourself, I want you kneeling on the bed in your bra and panties,” his voice grew quieter, and she wondered if he was as affected by everything as she was. “I will be teaching you to trust me in many different ways. Soon enough you will trust me to take care of you no matter what I offer you. Do you have enough trust in me for that?”
“Yes, Master.” Again her voice was quiet, and she wasn’t certain if he could even hear her. Heather swallowed and moved her hands to rest on his waist, gripping his body through his T-shirt.
Jack paused and took in a deep breath before he broke eye contact and looked at his own body where her hands lay. “I will permit that this one time. Every scene after this, pet, you will ask permission before you touch your Master. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.” The words spilled from her lips in a knee-jerk reaction. Initially, she had been teasing him with the words, but the presence he had commanded them, and she couldn’t help herself from freely giving in to what he was setting up with her.
“Take off your jeans,” he whispered before backing away from her, leaning against the wall next to her closet doors.
Heather swallowed roughly and pulled her hands to the fastening of the dark blue denim before she shook her head a little to clear it. What was she so nervous for? Her panties didn’t reveal anything more than her bikini did, and they’d gone to the beach many times over the last two years. She had her pants pushed to her knees and straightened to use her feet to kick them off along with her socks and stared at him, understanding as soon as their eyes locked why she was nervous. His hungry gaze made her stomach twist with nerves and the fact that it wasn’t her bikini bottom slammed into her head. It was her panties. Only a thin layer of satin and lace shielded her skin from his eyes.
“Good girl.” Again his voice sent shivers racing through her, spreading goosebumps in their wake. “Now the shirt.”
As she lowered her gaze she saw her actions left an impression. The zipper to his own jeans was being pushed forward, and she wondered how uncomfortable he was getting. Only he seemed to have a hell of a lot of control. Though the stare he had given her made her believe his control was hanging by a small thread. With her gaze lowered, she pulled the vintage tee over her head and tossed it onto the floor.
“Onto the bed, on your knees, relaxed.”
Heather took a half step toward the headboard, backwards, and realized in order to climb up onto her bed she’d need to turn her back to him. There was something about that action alone that sent a tremor through her and she gripped the bedspread before she could speak again. “Yellow.”
“Tell me why.”
“My back to you.”
“It…” she trailed off, unsure of why it bothered her to the point of being uncomfortable. She couldn’t accurately put it into words. Allen had never struck her, but he had watched her closely many times. Always behind her, always scrutinizing. It made her feel… “It makes me feel vulnerable.”
She could see Jack nod slowly, and he crossed his arms loosely in front of his chest. “Do you want to stop?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Do you need to ask me anything?”
Did she? Heather looked up at him, heat gathering in her face, she knew she was bright red with embarrassment and a small, soft smile played across his lips. “Do…” She couldn’t believe the words that were about to come out of her mouth, but she needed to know. “Do you like what you see?”
His smile grew and his gaze moved from her eyes to her light blue painted toenails and back to her eyes again. “Oh yes.”
“Why are you watching me so closely?”
“I am about to do unspeakable things to that magnificent body of yours. I’m taking in every inch of perfection before I desecrate it.”

The Dirty Doms anthology box set releases June 28! Get your copy today!! 

Monday, May 30, 2016

Start Reading #SnowWolf Today! #SneakPeek #ComingSoon #PNR

Start Reading Today!

Don't miss the highly anticipated installment in the Wolves of Willow Bend as we travel north to one of the most secretive packs in the U.S. 

Ranae is the youngest of the Buckleys and the only girl amongst three powerful male siblings. Her restlessness and dominant nature affected her every relationship within Willow Bend, not to mention testing the patience of her Alpha. Apprenticeship to the Hunters fed her desire for a purpose. When her Alpha and eldest brother ask her to undertake a mission to the Yukon territory, she’s thrilled at the opportunity to be useful. Clashing with the Alpha was the last thing she expected on the dangerous assignment. 

The oldest Alpha in the U.S. packs lives a gray existence. The loss of his mate so many decades before wears away at him until he doesn’t give a damn about anything. The problems of the other packs are not his, and he prefers to be left to his isolation. The arrival of the Chief Enforcer annoys him, but it is the wolf traveling with him who wakes the predator in Diesel. The scent of mate clings to her, but she rejects his overtures and challenges him on every level. 

War may be coming for the Yukon, but Diesel’s battle is very personal… 

Sunday, May 29, 2016

     Here in the States we are celebrating a long weekend, filled with barbecuing, shopping, beach-going and other unofficial first day of summer activities. But at the tail-end of the weekend is Memorial Day, a day to honor the troops, all those who have served, and most especially the fallen.

     I've written two books so far about returning warriors and the challenges they face on the home front. In the first, HEALING HEARTS, my hero, Adam Caldwell, Viscount Riverton, was returning from the Peninsula, nursing his wounds and carrying a load of survivor's guilt.

More recently, my hero in HER CAPTAIN, is a former Navy SEAL, who returns to his bucolic hometown to try to recapture the innocence he's lost overseas. Yet the PTSD he suffers, gives him frightening night terrors that make him loathe to get close to anyone.

 There is something about these returning warriors that fascinates and affects me. The hero of my current WIP, has also come marching home. He's long  hidden his secret: He's a wolf. And when he gets home, surprises await!

Let's take a moment out of our long weekend, to remember those who've put their lives on the line for us.

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Lana and the Laird Untamed #Highlander #Giveaway from Sabrina York

Lana and the LairdThe third and final book in the Untamed Highlander series is coming May 31st! Sabrina is celebrating the series with a Supersized bling giveaway! Read on for information on how you can win an exclusive Sabrina York Bling Basket including a tiara, a rhinestone Got Bling? t-shirt, signed books and more! Refer your friends. If they mention you on the rafflecopter, you could win the Refer Your Friends Tiara as well!

Lachlan Sinclair cannot escape his accursed heritage in his Highlands homeland. Somewhat resigned to the fate that destroyed his ancestors, he is prepared to live his life without an heir, without a wife―without love. But when he meets the woman of his dreams in the flesh, the bewitching lass makes him want to throw away his cursed, restrained existence…and unleash the highlander within…
Lana Dounreay has only seen the Duke of Caithness in her dreams as a wild, rugged man, while in reality, his life has been cramped by curses and cravats. He may have forgone his kilt and lost his brogue, but Lana knows that the heart of a true Scotsman beats within his broad, muscular chest. But what plans does the mysterious, passionate Lachlan have in mind for her―and can she convince him that love is stronger than all else?
Lachlan threw back his covers and set his feet on the floor. He had to wait until he stopped shaking to stand, and even then his legs were limp. When he could, he stumbled to the wardrobe and found a pair of breeches and a simple shirt. After a fright like this, he needed to walk, to clear his mind, his soul, of the terror.
He didn’t wake Dougal. He never did. It was unfair to ask his cousin to bear the onus of his curse. Lachlan made his way through the deserted halls of Lochlannach Castle, down the grand staircase, and headed for the terrace that overlooked the crashing sea below. There was a moon tonight. The view of Dunnet Bay would calm his soul. And if it did not, there was always the option of stepping over the edge and into oblivion.
But as he emerged into the cool velvet night, it wasn’t oblivion that awaited him.
It was Lana Dounreay.
She sat on the seawall staring out at his coveted view, dressed in a diaphanous froth that had to be her nightdress. Her hair, turned silver by the night, hung down over her shoulders, glimmering in the moonlight.
His heart pattered, but for a very different reason.
She was so lovely, so serene, it made his breath catch.
He came to stand beside her without a word, tucking his hands in his pockets and staring at the sea. She glanced up at him, but without surprise, as though she had expected him. Together they gazed out at the dark ripples of the water, the shards of light dancing over the surface of the blackness.
A gentle breeze wafted by, bringing with it her scent. It made him dizzy.
Ah, how he wished . . .
He wished he were another man. A man not cursed. A man not haunted. A man not doomed to an early death.
A man who could have kissed her once.
How magnificent would that have been?
He must have sighed because she put her hand on his arm. It was warm. Soft. Alluring.
“Can you no’ sleep?” she asked in a soothing timbre.
He glanced at her and his gaze was snared. Her eyes were so wide, so blue, so deep. He wanted to drown in them. “No. I . . . had a visitor.”
Her brow rumpled. “A visitor?”
“Yes.” He turned back to the sea. Though he was loath to discuss this with anyone, lest they think him mad, he knew she would understand. “My father.”
“Ah. I see. Does he visit you often?”
Lachlan snorted a laugh but it was really not one. “Too often.”
Lana tipped her head to the side. “You . . . doona enjoy his visits?”
“I do not. They are . . . terrifying.”
Why this puzzled her was a mystery. Ghosts were terrifying.
“Can you describe the visit?”
Something in her tone caught his attention. He sat beside her on the wall, listening to the waves crash below. It took a while for him to collect his thoughts, but she waited. “He is always dour. Pained. There is wailing and—”
“Yes. But it is the chains that are the most perturbing.”
Lana blinked. “Chains?”
“Yes. He’s draped in them. Bound by them. It is his eternal torment. Because of the curse.”
“How odd. None of the ghosts I know wear chains.”
“They are probably not cursed.”
“Probably not.” Her lips quirked as she murmured, “As there are no such things as curses.”
His heart lurched. Would that that were true. He studied her face. Beautiful as it was, that hint of amusement pricked at him. “Do you find this funny?”
“Nae. No’ a bit of it.” She patted his hand. Her heat lingered. “’Tis just . . . odd.”
“What is odd?” Was he really asking? This whole conversation was odd.
“Odd that your ghost wears chains. Chains are verra . . . of this earth, after all.”
“He’s being punished. They are probably metaphorical.”
“Most likely.”
As they turned back to the vista before them, Lachlan reflected that this was, indeed, a surreal conversation to be having. But then, with someone like Lana, it made sense.
“Your mother doesna wear chains.”
His belly roiled at the thought. “I am . . . gratified to hear it.”
“She seems quite at peace.”
“Good to know.”
“Except that she worries about you.”
“Will you tell her I’m fine?”
“I canna.”
He gaped at her.
She lifted a shoulder. “I willna lie to her. Besides, she knows you’re no’ a happy man.”
A happy man? Was there such a thing?
“I am a cursed man.”
“I am.” He didn’t know why he smiled. His lips just wanted to move that way.
What was it about this woman, this sprite, that made the shadows waft away? Made all his dark ruminations evaporate like mists in the sunlight? Made him smile after the horrific encounter he’d just had?
Ah, but it didn’t seem so horrific. Not now. Not with her by his side.
Lana shot him a glance that warmed his heart. “She thought you looked verra fine tonight at dinner.”
“Ah. The kilt.”
“Aye.” Her lashes fluttered. “I thought you looked verra fine as well.”
Now, that stirred something in him. Something illicit and naughty. “Did you?”
“Was I manly?” He was teasing, perhaps, but when she flicked a glance at him, with that expression—one of hunger and admiration and . . . heat—all his playfulness withered, scorched by the blazing flare of his lust.
There was something about the cloak of night, the refreshing scent of the sea, the fragrance of her perfume, the way her hair riffled in the breeze. Or maybe it was his churning need to wipe the memory of his father’s visit from his mind, or the suddenly clawing desire to be a man he could never be . . . but Lachlan had to kiss her. Everything in him ached for it.
And so he did.
Though it was foolish and injudicious and wildly inappropriate of him, he did.

4 Stars from RT Magazine
A sweet, romantic and often funny tale as Lachlan and Lana try to hide their trysts, while shadowy enemies draw nearer. Plus, kilts!--RTR Online Review
A wonderful and witty story and a must read for fans of the series. Top Pick--Night Owl Reviews
Memorable romance and engaging characters. Otherworldly and electric.--Publisher's Weekly
Complete your collection:
Hannah and the Highlander
susana_andthe_scot (1)
Lana and the Laird
Enter to win an exclusive Sabrina York Bling Basket including a tiara, a rhinestone Got Bling? t-shirt, signed books and more! Refer your friends. If they mention you on the rafflecopter, you could win the Refer Your Friends Tiara as well!

Friday, May 27, 2016

Branding your work? Cerise DeLand offers a list of marvelous graphic designers!

Branding your work is no easy task. It requires a lot of thought on your part before you ever talk to an artist. In fact, it requires you think about it in depth before you decide on one artist over another.

And in this marketplace, with new authors trying their wings daily, the market is filled with marvelous designers.
In fact, the list I am about to produce for you here shows the variety of their thoughts and tools, the marvelous talent and the dramatic differences among those designers.

First of all, let me tell you, I am an author. A communicator. I am not an artist. But I have worked with professional designers of everything from giant highway billboards to tiny, intriguing business cards for more than 36 years.

Secondly, why do I have this list?

Ah, my guilty secret is that I LOVE looking at the offerings of so many delightful artists and often after I sit down each morning to work (and yes, write!) I take myself on a magic carpet ride on the internet to gaze at the beauties they have offered up for our enjoyment. (I could go to amazon and surf, but trust me, that way, I am reading plot lines, not imbibing the skills of the artistry.)

Furthermore, if you look at these artists' works like I do, you become inspired by their imagination. I play a game with myself called, What Title Goes With This Cover?

Try it. You'll be smiling.  And like me, you may find yourself refreshed and ready to hit the keyboard. If you have problems tearing yourself away, then do hit the stop watch. You could spend the day doing this! (Yes. I have.)

Know too that not every artist is right for you and your work or even all of your work. Many are better at one particular kind of rendering, much like Rodin was better at sculptures of nudes and men in action or torment. But he probably would not have achieved fame for, say, painting like Delacroix. Nor could Chopin compose works that had the fell or drama of Beethoven. If you write Regency romance, an artist who does superb sci-fi romance covers might not be your best choice. But if you wrote about Mr. Darcy on Mars? Well, then! Give that artist a good go!

Each artist has different requirements of clients, different ways of working. Each tells you that, usually up front. If you have questions, ask. Note how each works and see if that set of principles works for you, your temperament and your ideas of professional relationships.

I have collected these sites for a long time because it suits my own artistic temperament. Looking at art (painting, sculpture, installations) opens up my own mind, makes me ask questions of myself that are vital to my existence and my growth as a writer. I hope you enjoy this list and use it to your prosperity and in the best of health. And if you know of an artist who is not on this list, please send it to me at cerise.deland@ymail.com! I will make another list for all to use and enjoy!

A few things you must know about this list:

It is in no order.
It has no qualifiers, including pricing.
It represents, I am certain, only a smattering of those who offer up delicious work.
I do not say this list is complete, or the definitive list of those who can and should aid you.
I do not advocate for one more than the other.
I do not receive any compensation from any of them for this listing.
But I have employed some of them.
I would employ a lot more if I wrote faster and had more books!
In fact, I have in my computer, far more book covers by artists whom I have employed than works I have yet written! (Yes, I am that enamored of great art that I salivate to possess it. Kind of like a woman who must have a certain man she adores! But I digress.)

And so here is my list:































































And for my commercial, here are a few of my own covers that I adore and you can readily see the difference in tone, treatment and, I do hope, genre!
Happy viewing!
Cerise DeLand
Masquerade With a Marquess, Regency Romp #3
Amazon   ARe   NOOK   KOBO   iTunes
Interlude with a Baron, Regency Romp, #4
Amazon   ARe   NOOK   KOBO   iTunes

The Lion, Omega Team
military romance bestseller!
Amazon US | UK | Canada |
 Germany | Australia | Japan

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Best Selling Author Ditter Kellen


   ☆☆☆Coming May 31 ☆☆☆

Shon Wells, nearly lost his life and the lives of those he holds dear, to a man known as The Seeker. A year later, he faces a new enemy. One that threatens the woman he loves. Shon will stop at nothing to protect her...even if it means his life.
Laura Donovan has secretly wanted Shon for years. From the wrong side of the tracks, the sarcastic, vampire is back in her life, and he's out for blood. Including hers. Racing headlong into danger, Shon and Laura fight to stay alive, uncovering deceptions, treachery, and a love that won't be denied.

Recommend reading the books in order. This is not a serial, and it does have a happy ever after, but the story moves forward with a new hero and heroine in the next book.
This book is part of a dark paranormal romance. It contains graphic, erotic scenes that may be offensive to some.

Get it here: https://www.amazon.com/Shon-Seeker-Book-Ditter-Kellen-ebook/dp/B01FEXGOTS?ie=UTF8&ref_=asap_bc

Bio:Former 911 Dispatcher, Ditter Kellen has been in love with romance for over twenty years. To say she's addicted to reading is an understatement. Her eBook reader is an extension of her and holds many of her fantasies and secrets. It's filled with dragons, shifters, vampires, ghosts and many more jaw-dropping characters who keep her entertained on a daily basis. Ditter's love of paranormal and outrageous imagination have conspired together to bring her where she is today...sitting in front of her computer allowing them free rein. Writing is her passion, what she was born to do. I hope you will enjoy reading her stories as much as she loves spinning them. Ditter resides in Florida with her husband and many unique farm animals. She adores French fries and her phone is permanently attached to her ear. You can contact Ditter by email: ditterkellen@outlook.com

Make sure you stop by and see all the other books.
Author Ditter Kellen links





Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Tuesday Morning is the Best Time to Arrive in Havana by Suz deMello

I travel as much as I can, not just for inspiration but for engagement. When I'm unhappy, the best way for me to get away from the source of my distress is to leave (duh). Additionally, when I travel, especially to someplace new, I'm deeply engaged in my life and have no mental space for worrying about whatever it was that was bothering me. When I don't know the language, don't know where I'm staying, don't know where I'll eat my next meal, I have a lot more to focus on rather than dwelling on my last unhappy love affair (usually my issue, alas).

And so it was with my latest trip out of the USA. After the president announced plans to open the USA's relationship with Cuba, I decided to travel there ASAP so as not to see Havana when its skyline would be dominated by the Starbucks mermaid and the Golden Arches.

But I really screwed this one up.

At that time--March 2015--Cuba had no banking relationship with the USA. That means that I had to have money in hand before I left for Cuba, because ATM cards and credit cards didn't work there. So I planned to go to Cancun, withdraw a bunch of money, and then fly to Cuba.

Unfortunately, I neglected to tell my bank, so when I started to withdraw money, I got maybe $400 and then...nada. Zip. Zero.

I emailed my bank to no avail.

I tried to phone, but neither my hotel phone nor my cellie would get through (Damn you, Virgin!)

So I landed in Cuba with maybe a quarter of the funds I needed to have a really good time, or even to eat three meals daily.

I told myself that this was a good time to lose weight.

Setting for Hot Havana Night--
the Victor Hugo House in Old Havana
I shared a taxi from the airport into Havana with a couple of Ukrainian dudes and immediately paid the host of my casa particular for my stay. Alex was very kind, letting me use his computer so I wouldn't have to pay a hotel's business center for their expensive internet access--I was trying desperately to make sure I could get to the next stop on my journey, Isla Mujeres, which is off the Yucatan coast.

And I had to research my story, One Hot Havana Night. I couldn't afford taxis, so I walked all over Havana Vieja, the tourist quarter, where I set my story. A friendly expat showed me a lunchroom where I could eat a huge meal for $1-2--so that's where I ate. It was pretty good food--a protein (eggs, chicken or meat) with a little salad, plus rice and beans--typically Cuban meals. I even had enough left over so I could go to a bar and get a drink while listening to the local music every night.

Havana was great, but it's nevertheless a tourist trap. It's just that the tourists aren't Americans. Lots of Europeans, especially Italians, and a number of Japanese.

I learned a lot. Most people seemed pretty contented. As for the economic system, while I heard someone complain that they work really hard for little money, I saw only one or two people who seemed to be badly off. Everyone else looked happy and well-fed, though not obese. I saw many of the famous classic American cars, but I saw a lot of new cars as well--Peugeots and Kias, Hyundais and even Benzes. I just didn't see newer American cars. That's because Cuba isn't isloated at all. It's just that we don't have an economic relationship with them. Other countries have been trading with Cuba quite happily. 

Still, I can't say that the place is well run. The Castros seem to be good at getting and keeping power, and not so hot at using it. Many of the old, beautiful buildings are crumbling, though I must say that they're making an effort to resurrect them. Many streets are dug up as improvements are being made. And this brings me to the title of this post.

So why is Tuesday morning the best time to arrive in Havana?

Because the trash is picked up Monday night, at least in the part of Havana where I stayed. Until then, it's thrown into giant Dumpsters by the locals.
As you can imagine, the garbage gets pretty ripe in the tropical heat. 

But Havana smells great on a Tuesday morning.

Read One Hot Havana Night in Six Steamy Shorties

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Bringer of Chaos @kayelleallen #FreeBook #ColoringForAdults

In this scene from my new science fiction book, Bringer of Chaos, Pietas recalls a poignant interaction interaction with his father. As young children, Pietas and Dessy suffered extreme isolation. There had never been naturally born children among their people. They were a race of slaves created for specific tasks. Pietas and Dessy were hidden to protect them. This scene begins after Pietas has been exiled to Sempervia, far across the galaxy from Earth.

Bringer of Chaos Excerpt

Lying there, sheltered, clean, warm, not thirsty, not hungry, Pietas let himself drift toward sleep.

The sudden thought that he had done nothing to find and reconnect with his family or his people jerked him awake. Guilt crashed over him in a tidal wave.

He had given his mother not one thought. He had sacrificed everything for her, and now that he was free, he hadn't considered her safety. What kind of son was he? What kind of brother? His family was on the planet, and he had ignored them.

As soon as Six came back, he'd ask him to explore. Surely, his family and the others were close. No hint of emotions had reached him, but in his depleted state, he couldn't even sense the emotions of Six, right next to him.

Perhaps all he needed was rest. Yes, that was it. Rest. With rest, he'd be fine. Back to one hundred percent. His old self. Perfect.

Pietas tried to push himself up, but his arms and body refused to cooperate. That failed, so he tried turning onto his side, but could not force any part of himself off the blanket. Helplessness made him flail mentally. He panted from exertion, as ineffective as a slug.

The shame of being incapacitated stung worse than any punishment his father had ever meted out. No battle wound had ever been so mortifying. His body had been ruined, and his abilities as well. The most powerful and gifted of all the Ultras rendered helpless. Impotent. Useless as a--

Pietas stopped himself from even thinking the word.

His father's voice came to him as if in a dream. Mahikos had been talking to Helia, referring to Pietas and Dessy. Had he thought they could not hear? Or had he not cared?

"If anyone finds them, they'll be destroyed, Helia. We'll be destroyed. They have to be hidden. Kept out of sight. You can't take them outside!"

Huddling in their bedroom, Pietas and Dessy clung to one another. They were no more than three years old. "Don't listen, Dess. I won't let anyone hurt you." He covered his sister's ears with his hands.

In an outer area, their mother argued for their freedom. "Mahikos, our children need sunlight. The books say children won't grow without fresh air and sunshine. We have to risk it."

"We don't know anything about children except for those books you keep reading. They were written for human children, not Ultras."

"There are no Ultra children! Mahikos, please. They need this."

"It will endanger everything we've worked for."

"But they need it. I need it. Please, Mahikos. Let us see the sun."

"These children will be killed, and all we've fought for will be gone. They'll destroy us! We'll both be killed. These children are useless! Worthless as mortals."

How many times had Pietas spouted that same rhetoric? Useless as a child. Worthless as a mortal.

He hated and despised his father. How had he become him?

Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas

Two enemy warriors: one human, one immortal. Different in belief, alike in spirit, marooned together on an alien world.
Imprisoned and in isolation over a year without food or water, the immortal Pietas survives. Though broken in body, his intellect and will are intact, thanks to Six, the special ops warrior who captured him, but kept him sane. The warrior had no hand in his deprivation and, like Pietas, was betrayed by his own kind. When Pietas is abandoned on an alien world with nothing but his honor--and Six--he must find and rejoin other immortal exiles. After centuries of war, Pietas detests humans and kills them on sight, but he is too damaged to continue on his own. Though he despises needing help, he allows Six to nurture and restore him to full strength, and then accompany him. As they cross the planet together on foot, the immortal begins to wonder if he has found his first human friend, or if Six is loyal only because Pietas could keep the others from tearing him to shreds. This human will either be his closest living friend, or the one whose betrayal will trigger all-out vengeance by the most powerful immortal ever born.
Immortal. Warrior. Outcasts. Traitors took everything. Except their honor.
Read now in print on CreateSpace http://bit.ly/boc-origin-csp

Adult coloring book, banner, and bookmarks by The Author's Secret

Download and print three PDF bookmarks featuring Bringer of Chaos characters. The first features Six, the human warrior. The second is Pietas, the immortal warrior. The third is the two, back to back. They are drawn to scale. Six is 6' (1.8m) tall.
Six https://kayelleallen.com/media/boc-bookmark-six.pdf
Pietas https://kayelleallen.com/media/boc-bookmark-pietas.pdf
Pietas and Six https://kayelleallen.com/media/boc-bookmark-pietas6.pdf
Download a free adult coloring book you can print and share. Relax and color with friends. It's fun! https://kayelleallen.com/media/pietas-coloring-book.pdf

About the Author

Kayelle Allen is a best selling American author. Her unstoppable heroes and heroines include contemporary every day folk, role-playing immortal gamers, futuristic covert agents, and warriors who purr.
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