Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Sneak Peek at Love Me Tender

“I told you that I like them feisty,” snarled Tyrana. She eyed the four men lying on the plush red velvet pillo­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­ws that encompassed the pleasure room. “Do they look feisty to you?”
“I told you before, Tyrana, none of them are feisty. We can’t even make them pretend to behave that way. What do you want me to do?” asked Sarah, with an exaggerated sigh of frustration.
Sarah was her most trusted friend. She engaged in all of Tyrana’s wicked sexual romps, but none of it was fun anymore. None of it held any meaning to her. She had rutted with close to a hundred Maida men, only once though. That was her cardinal rule that she held firm to. Not that it mattered anymore.
Her life felt empty, without purpose, and she was weary to death of it all.
Learning that her sister, Rowena, was fertile had left her feeling hollow. It was as if her very own little sister had kicked her in the gut. The white-hot envy that had sprung to the surface scared Tyrana. Why her? It was a thought she couldn’t discard.
Why is it my sister, the favorite one, the self-described workaholic, is the one who ends up fertile? That question circled in Tyrana’s mind like a repeating loop, making her feel slightly ill.
A loud groan from one of the men caused Tyrana to turn her attention back to the four men. All of the men were either stroking their shafts to entice her gaze or rubbing their stones. She rolled her eyes. Bored at the very sight, she turned and sauntered out of the room.
“You’re not going to fuck them?” asked Sarah, clearly amazed Tyrana had, for once, passed up the chance to fornicate.
In truth, so was she. Why bother. Why, by the Saints, should I when it no longer pleasures me. Maybe I’m coming down with that Castima flu. Tyrana tried hard to ascribe her strange feelings to something. Anything was better than realizing the lure of sex had lost its appeal to her.
Her sister would have laughed at that one. Sex no longer brought her the temporary relief she longed for. Striding down the long corridor, she vowed to stop her little self-pity act.
What exactly is the purpose of my life? It was a question she asked herself for the umpteenth time that day. It was a day like any other. The sun shone brightly. The sky was as blue and crystal clear as the still waters that surrounded All Saints Lake, but Tyrana felt unsettled. She yearned to lash out at something…anything, but she couldn’t.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” asked her mother, stepping out into the corridor.
Her mother wore the long, purple traditional Council robe, reminding Tyrana that her mother was Her Majesty, ruler of the Supreme High Fertility Council. It was a slap in the face that she’d never be offered a seat because, yet again, she didn’t measure up.
Brushing past her mother, she mouthed the word, “Out.”
“No, you are not. This is for you,” said her mother, handing her an envelope that had her name embossed in a bold fancy gold script.
When Tyrana made no move to take it, her mother tried another tactic.
“It’s from your sister. Be courteous, take it, read it and write to her,” she demanded, attempting to forcibly open Tyrana’s hand.
“I’m not interested,” she replied, letting the yellow-stained envelope fall like a rose petal to the floor. She resisted the urge to stomp on it. That would be too childish. She walked away as her mother swept down, picked up the envelope and gathered her flowing robe around her in a huff, but not before jabbing her with her usual parting words.
“Why can’t you be good for once, like your sister?” she snapped, opening the Council Chamber door to disappear inside.
There it was again. That good word. Tyrana had long ago taken that word out of her vocabulary. It had never fit her. It was never what the Blessed Mother Saint had in mind for her.
So the word good had been ditched and replaced with wicked, bad and naughty. Those were the words people used to describe her. Those were the words of comfort that kept her warm, cocooned like a fluffy blanket in the dark of the night. After all, on Maida, if you didn’t get the curse and become fertile, you weren’t “good” enough.
The funny thing was, she had always assumed that it would be Rowena, her science loving sister who would end up infertile—not her. But that was the crux of the problem facing all Maida women. The fertility curse chose women randomly.
The choice of motherhood wasn’t theirs. It had been taken away from them a long time ago by the men who had almost destroyed their world. It had been their radioactive weapons that had released the poisonous ions into the atmosphere, into the water, into the soil and, worse, into their genetic DNA —the material that made them what they were. Those were the words her sister spoke in passion. All Tyrana had cared about at one time in her life was pleasing her mother, having a child of her own and taking a seat on the Supreme High Fertility Council.
She huffed loudly. Not anymore. That dream had dissipated over five years ago when she finally mustered the courage to take the fertility test. There had always been a part of her that had held out hope over the accumulation of years that eventually she’d be hit with the curse. Turning twenty-eight years of age had been her awakening. Even though many Maida women went through the curse late in life, Tyrana knew on that blessed day that marked her birth that it wasn’t going to happen to her. To finally put an end to that kernel of hope, she’d undertaken the test. The red stain of the liquid inside the test tube had told her what her heart dreaded. She was infertile.
From that moment on, her life had changed. Her dreams had ended. She’d learned to live day to day, not expecting much. The devastation and keen knowledge that she was barren, that her womb would never nourish a baby, was a deep ache within her, which she kept to herself.
She wished she could have confided in her sister, but she hadn’t. Instead, she let the years wash by them, moving them emotionally further away from each other. At one time, she and Rowena had shared every secret together. But all that changed when Tyrana learned she was the infertile one. And then her sister became wrapped up in her own passion to find a cure for the fertility curse. Tyrana laughed. She had never viewed fertility as the dreadful curse. What was worse was being infertile, barren and unable to procreate to further the Maida race.
Knowing that her sister was about to be married and had probably already conceived a child carved a deep wide gulf through Tyrana’s heart. That baby should have been mine. Rowena never wanted a baby. Tyrana couldn’t cope with seeing Rowena at the moment. It was just too much to bear. That was why Tyrana ignored her sister’s letters.
Tyrana shook her head, clearing the useless emotional thoughts that threatened her control. With no destination in mind, she strode out the palace doors and walked across the well-manicured, vibrant green lawn. Looking back at the palace that was her childhood home, she was hit with a realization—she hated everything about it.
It was a sterile environment that had become her own prison—filled with no expectations of what she could do with her life, except live irresponsibly. It was a trap she felt she’d never escape from. Her heart thundered with that realization. Her sister would think she, Tyrana, known as the infertile one, had more freedom than her. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. There is no freedom when choice is taken from you.
Deep in thought, she continued to walk briskly away from the palace. A shout from behind stilled her.
“Get back! Get back! Look out!” shouted a Maida guard just as a man ran at lightning speed past her, almost toppling her to the ground.
Tyrana twirled around to maintain her balance. She saw out of the corner of her eye that the man had turned almost in slow motion to watch her. Then the guard grasped her arm.
“Get back, he’s not safe,” said the guard.
But Tyrana didn’t care what the guard had to say. She was interested in the man who had the nerve to grin mischievously at her and the audacity to boldly wink at her. What is he thinking?
What am I thinking? She studied his physique quickly, her eyes drawn to his mid-waist in the half a minute it took for him to run straight into the Dark Forest. He was at least two heads taller than her. He was broad of shoulder, with straight rust-colored hair that fell to his mid-back, a back that rippled with muscles gleaming from the high noon sun. And his ass. By the Saints, it had her salivating on the spot. Her pussy juices started to flow just with the image of his long shaft she had eyed with longing as he raced past her naked as the day he was born. Thoughts of his coppery, molten-looking skin left her feeling a hunger she couldn’t describe.
“He’s the man who’s been dropping off your sister’s letters. Your mother told us to capture him for more information as to her whereabouts. So far, we’ve had no luck. And there is no way I’m going into the Dark Forest,” said the Maida guardswoman, finally releasing her hold on Tyrana’s arm.
“He’s too fast for us, but what a chase,” she cackled. “Nothing like running in the hot noon sun with that ass in front of you.”
Again the guard chortled, trying to get Tyrana to share in the joke about the man’s ass gleaming in the sun. However, Tyrana was in no mood to play nice, especially if that meant sharing anything at all that had to do with the man who had sparked an intense heat in her throbbing core.
Then what the guardswoman said penetrated Tyrana’s brain. This man, this oh-so yummy want to fuck me ‘til I die man, has been in contact with my sister. By the Saints, Tyrana wanted him and meant to have him.
Brushing off the guardswoman, Tyrana strode forward for once taking her own future into her hands. While the warnings from the guardswoman were loud, Tyrana ignored them.
After all, she had heard them all before. Anyone who entered the Dark Forest never came out. Well, that myth was no longer true. Her sister had ventured into the forest and fallen in love with a man she was about to marry.
Then it will be babies and all that stuff. Tyrana hated that jealous ache that pitted itself deep within her when she thought of the life her sister got to live. It was a life she would never know. It was a part of being a woman she’d never discover.
It’s a burden anyway, she told herself, wishing that the yearning to have a baby of her own flesh would leave her. That desire was like a scab that painfully itched and blistered under her skin.
But here, Tyrana thought, was the perfect distraction—that man! A daring plan formed in her mind. She would track that man who knew where her sister was for her own purposes. She wanted him.
A fever the likes of which she had never experienced before caused her body to flush with desire simply thinking about that fine specimen of a man who had gamely winked at her. She wanted…no, needed to have that cock of his lodged deep within her wet pussy. Maybe if I fuck long and hard enough, I’ll forget about everything else.
That’s it! This man will be my cure. Just the thought of that feisty all-too-male coppery body at her beck and call, on his knees in front of her, caused her to grin in sweet anticipation. Tyrana vowed to all the Saints that she would get what she wanted this time, no matter what.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Love Me Tender - 2 days and counting

Two days until Love Me Tender debuts with Ellora’s Cave ( and I can’t wait. Of course I did write it but Tyrana (that’s the heroine) was just screaming to tell her story after I wrote about her younger sibling Rowena in Love Me Wild. So, I finally decided to let her come out and play. I was able to contact her very briefly and here’s a bit of our interview.

Tyrana: Thanks so much Renee it’s such a joy to tell my tale. Especially after you decided to tell Rowena’s story first. Really, what were you thinking? Mine is much more interesting.
The women on your planet should consider themselves lucky. They don’t suffer from the fertility curse that afflicts us Maida women, all thanks to the men who thoughtlessly tried to destroy our planet, Alvaron with their weapons of mass destruction. Then again, I thought I heard that terminology being used in your media when I was researching your planet. Must be a coincidence.
First off let me say that had Rowena not taken off (oops, been kidnapped) I probably would have continued on with my dreary life, but when she became fertile things changed for me.

Renee: How did things change for you Tyrana, and how does the fertility curse work for Madia women?
Tyrana: Let me explain that fertility can be a curse and a blessing. If you become fertile you have days before you go insane unless you have sex and it’s the semen from the fertile men that’s the cure. However there’s a deadly catch to this quick fix for women. Once they have sex with a fertile Maida man the man is then passed the dreaded disease and yup, you guessed it, he dies. So far there’s no cure for the dreaded fertility curse. But the flip side of this is that if you don’t become fertile your status as a Maida woman changes. In my case when I realized I wasn’t going to be fertile it meant that I could never belong to the Supreme High Fertility Council which oversees Maida’s way of life. And then well let’s just say I had sex simply for the sex.

Renee: So, how did things change for you?
Tyrana: Honestly, I never thought things would change for me but then one day a man I had never seen before ran past me and it was like there was this instant change. I knew if I was going to change the path of my life this was it. I entered the forbidden Dark Forest and followed him. But he wasn’t easy to track and I’m sure if someone told me what I’d encounter, well I would have thought them crazy.

Renee: Can you tell us a little bit of what you encountered?
Tyrana: I think the best thing is for people to read the story, Renee. They say truth is stranger than fiction and in my case they are correct. Ohh, I’m going to have to go, Rusty’s got that look in his eyes again and I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.

Renee: Thank you so much Tyrana for providing us with a small glimpse into your life.

Tyrana: Not a problem. I certainly hope you have more Madia tales to tell in the future, Renee.

Renee: One never knows, Tyrana. Take care.

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

It’s Hard Writing Erotica

It’s hard writing erotica romance. Okay, everyone has permission to laugh out loud with that little tidbit. But in all seriousness, writing erotica means using sharp words (some would call crude or dirty words) that are essential to the story. The joy of reading erotica is that it should get you all hot and bothered in a good way. When I started writing erotica I found this great book by Susie Bright called, How to Write a Dirty Story.

Bright’s book made me laugh and take pride in the honesty behind those “dirty” words we all like to say, hear and even read.“You might be able to fake an orgasm, but you will never be able to fake your way through writing a sex scene. Every reader will know you’re a fraud. The biggest hurdle as an erotic writer is to write believably,” writes Bright, adding, “Erotica is harder than usual in this regard, because sex is such a touchy subject, and we have to overcome so much cynicism and consumer-oriented titillation.” Bingo! she’s dead on.

I honestly believe that to be a successful erotic writer, you personally need to thoroughly enjoy sex and the mechanics of how it works for both men and women. As a writer, you need to know when it’s suitable to use the word penis, cock, shaft, vagina, cunt or pussy. Do I get all hot and bothered with the word penis? Probably not, but sometimes even in an erotic story, that might not be the authors intent in the beginning.While vagina and penis conjure up a more medical description of that particular anatomy, write cock and cunt and you’ve probably snagged the reader's attention. More important than those hard “c” words, you need to have all the fundamental elements to a good story.

If you don’t have developed characters, plot, and tension between the hero and heroine, and use timing in your story to develop those luscious sex scenes, it simply won’t work, or it won’t read honestly. And sometimes that means making your sex scene rough, sweet or juicy. The key factor in erotica writing is the intensity of sex, the use of those “naughty” words to further one's imagination and how sex relates to the plot.

Writing a sex scene just for the sex won’t snag your reader. And that’s where we encounter the “hard” part of erotica writing.As an author you always need to ask yourself, “How does this sex scene relate to the story? Is it essential? Does it enable the reader to learn another aspect of a character? Does it leave the reader with an emotional-impact?" And if you can’t read your erotica writing out loud, then don’t write it. Or better yet, teach yourself the power of those naughty words. That was one lesson I took to heart from reading Bright’s book.

Bright writes that the goal of an erotica writer is, “To discover the sexual and aural power of speaking erotic prose, to test literature you’re unsure of. If it doesn’t work out loud, it’s not going to be successful for silent readers, either." To become as fluent speaking erotic language as you are writing it—one enhances the other. And after you finish, she writes, you’ll never believe again… “That erotica is meant to be private, that speaking verse and prose is a dull exercise, that reading aloud is only for actors, and that words can’t be sex.”

Monday, August 6, 2007

I Got A Writing Grant!

The OMG thing happened to me the other day. I got a writing grant! I got a writing grant! I got a writing grant! I’m still chanting that happy reality over and over in my head. This fall from the sky money couldn’t have come up a better time – ahh, well it could have, but I’ll live. I’m thrilled and so excited and I can’t stop smiling, which is a good thing because if I’m happy so is my family.

For the past year I’ve been working on my new dark paranormal romance book I’ve called The Ungodlies:The Damned Fairy. It’s been a year writing a hard-ass guy with a chip on his shoulder who just wants to end his life, but can’t because the Queen of the Tuatha Dé Danann’s (that’s the fairy queen for those of you not into the Celtic language) cursed him to Earth to live as a human. However every time he dies he gets painfully resurrected. And after a thousand years living on Earth he really just wants to die for good. Okay, that’s the premise of my book and I’m thrilled to announce that I’ve finally completed my final round of second edits – so Christine and Dave heads up (those are my critique partners) it’s coming your way. I’m feeling really excited about this new series I’m working on, so much so that I booked myself to attend the New Jersey’s romance conference in October where I plan to pitch my new series to three big US publishers. So, once again the money will certainly help.

Within days my second erotic novella Love Me Tender debuts with Ellora’s Cave ( This is the sequel to Love Me Wild and features Rowena’s sister Tyrana, that’s the one with the bad-girl attitude which makes for a sizzling hot read. I love my new cover, the most risqué by far for me – cause the guy has buns of steel – me snickering with glee on that one. And, just this morning I received my first edits for the co-authored book I wrote with Christine d’Abo called Sweet and Spicy Spells, which will be an Ellora’s Cave Halloween 2007 release. So things are moving along.

Ohh, I almost forgot that the group I joined called 6 Degrees of Sexy has it’s own official website ( which will link you to our latest blogs. This has been a wonderful opportunity for me to join five other, very talented romance writers. We put on our thinking caps and we’ve decided to take a huge jump into the unknown. We’re going to each write a novella length story and tie it into one theme so we can launch our first 6SDoS anthology. Our goal is to have the stories finished by Dec 2007 so we’ll be sure to keep you posted on what they are and just how hot they get.

That’s it for now, folks. Please drop me a line. I love to hear from anyone.

Renee Field