Guest Blogger Gail Bridges - Erotic Horror: Surprised Readers Chime In

I write something few people have ever heard of: Erotic Horror. My novel Inn on the Edge is Erotic Horror. The novel I am currently working on, Over the Edge, is also Erotic Horror. I have recently begun a third project, a co-authored Erotic Horror novel called Fever - and I must say I am enjoying every moment of all that horror, all that eroticism.

But my readers weren't sure what to make of it. They started out confused. Erotic Horror, what is that? Should I give it a try? Those who took the plunge and read Inn on the Edge ended up thrilled and surprised. The vast majority of them loved this exciting new combination.

Unfortunately, the reading public mostly has no idea what to expect from this brand-new genre.

I see it in the reviews my readers leave. Valerie, on Goodreads, writes: "It is the first of its genre that I have read and I was extremely happy that I did get the chance to read this." Rachael, also on Goodreads, writes: "This was an intriguing read for me. I was nervous about reading it because it is advertised as an erotic horror. I didn't really get the horror part. Yes it was frightening but I didn't think overly so."

On the contrary, Rachael—you did get it. "Frightening but not overly so" is exactly what I am after. I strive to create a new type of horror story. I want a story that is less blood-and-guts, less zombies with axes, less blood-thirsty maniacs than the usual horror fare. In my stories, I work to create an atmosphere of fear, and dread, and psychological manipulation, and combine it with erotic overtones.

Psychological manipulation involving sex. Now, that's scary.

Some reviewers very much understand my intent. April Dykes writes: "An erotic twilight zone!" and Kieri writes: "It was eerie and twisty..." A reader who goes by the username BookieLuv may have understood the novel best of all. In her 5 - Star Amazon review, she writes: "The characters were real and you felt their love for each other. You know something is wrong and the characters know something is wrong too but they can't do anything about it. Do you like horror? Do you like erotica? Pick this one up!"

It is my hope that more readers will give this new type of erotic horror a chance. My publisher, Ellora's Cave, is actively building their Shivers line or erotic horror, as are other publishers. I firmly believe that erotic horror is the new up-and-coming genre, and I am not alone.

Besides, they're fun.

Inn on the Edge Blurb

Angela and her brand-new husband Josh have just arrived at their honeymoon destination, a romantic bed-and-breakfast hotel on the breath-taking Washington coast – the Inn on the Edge.

But everything isn’t as it seems. The lessons that come free with the room aren’t for painting the lovely coastal scenery – the lessons are for better sex. Angie and Josh, shocked and titillated, immerse themselves in every sensual offering with each other and with the other newlywed couples at the Inn.

It doesn’t take long for things to go horribly wrong. They discover that the old man running the place is a sex demon, who has been stealing their sensual energy. Worse, he’s dangerously in love with Angie and he has plans for her – plans involving an heirloom wedding ring.

Ellora's Cave: http://www.ellorascave.com/inn-on-the-edge.html

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Inn-Edge-Gail-Bridges-ebook/dp/B00H2L3TSU/ref=la_B00HCRT8G6_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1390281804&sr=1-1

Gail Bridges
I have three grown children. I live in Seattle, Washington with my husband and our five cats.

In the past I have worked in a variety of different artistic media. I have a BFA in painting from the University of Washington, and for over fifteen years I made award-winning Fine Art Jewelry (silver and handmade ceramics) and sold my work at local and regional Fine Art and Craft shows. My business, Vivid Arts, flourished – but always, I felt driven to write. Two years ago, no longer able to deny the writing muse, I took an open-ended sabbatical from my art shows. Since then, I’ve written two novels and a number of published and unpublished short stories.

website: www.gailbridges.com

blog: http://gailbridges.blogspot.com/

Twitter: @GailWBridges

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/gailbridges123

RT 2014

I'm posting this from New Orleans where six of the Naughties are at the RT Booklovers Convention. we're having a great time but since the Internet here in the hotel SUCKS I'm attempting this on my phone.

And my attempts to upload ppics on my phone are failing.

UPDATE: I HAVE INTERNET!!

Here are a few pics from the last couple of days. It's been great connecting with readers, bloggers and fellow authors, and of course New Orleans is awesome!

My RT badge with the pretty award nominee ribbon?

Erin's and my room with all the goodie bags for our Cover Model Karaoke

Our 9NN table on the third level of the hotel

Dinner last night

Erin  and Juniper/Jennifer

Dinner last night

Guest Blogger Gia Dawn - A Funny Thing Happened While I was Desperate to Make my Deadline

Are you ever too much in your head? So tunnel-visioned on a task that you see it everywhere around you? Concentrating on a project that takes up all your time and energy and leaves nothing left over for other important day to day events?

I recently finished A Roar of Thunder, the 5th in my Red Masks series for Ellora’s Cave, and the last few days had me working non-stop to make my deadline. And as a result, some very interesting things occurred in my normal daily routine.

The first happened when I was walking the dogs and came around a bend to see one of those big orange warning signs in the middle of the road that said FLAGGER AHEAD. Well, A Roar of Thunder is a BDSM themed book and my mind was so filled with whips and chains and other kinky implements that I stopped dead in my tracks and stood staring at a sign that my mind assured me said FLOGGER AHEAD! It actually took me several seconds to realize I was reading the sign wrong and there wasn’t an impromptu dungeon session going on in the middle of my staid suburban neighborhood. When I told my editor, she thought it was hilarious.

The second happened just after I sent in the finished work. My son is getting married on June 8th, and I am in charge of ordering the personalized napkins, etc. Now these things have processing time, you can’t just order one day and expect delivery the next. And while I had my list written down somewhere, I had completely forgotten the wedding was less than 5 weeks away.

That night I dreamed it was the day before the wedding and I had forgotten to order the wedding cake. I drove frantically from bakery to bakery begging anyone to make me a cake overnight, and crashing my car over and over in the parking lots as I tried to explain to my irate that I really was a good mother and didn’t mean to shirk my duties. The dream was so vivid when I woke up I actually had to ask my husband if we were in charge of the wedding cake, which thankfully we weren’t.

Normally my worst nightmares involve zombies and serial killers, so hubby thought it was a hoot that this nightmare was of a completely different ilk. He asked me which one was worse, zombies or facing the wrath of my son. It was honestly a toss-up. I mean, sure zombies and psychotic serial killers are not my favorite things, but having my son that angry with me was an entirely new and terrifying experience—not to mention having to explain myself to his lovely bride-to-be. (She thought the dream was way too funny, and even enjoyed the flogging joke. One has to have a sense of humor when one is writing hot and heavy sex!)

So what about you? What funny things happened to you the last time you were trying to make an important deadline or finish a project that took up all your time? Stop by and let’s have a giggle together.

The latest release in my Red Masks series was Master of Silk, and here is the blurb.

Red Masks, Book Two

For the ladies of the Red Masks, pleasure waits behind every door…and no one is ever who they seem to be.

Physician by day, belly dancer by night, sensual beauty Isabella Seda keeps her two worlds strictly divided—until the arrival of Zayne Saladar, her exotically handsome, widowed new patient.

Unbeknownst to the good doctor, Zayne is also an avid fan of her dancing persona, Silk, and he invites her to a night of anonymous pleasure at the BDSM-heavy Red Mask Society, no questions asked. What he doesn’t reveal? That he’s secretly hoping for happily-ever-after.

After a night of thrilling sex, Dr. Seda is faced with an ethical dilemma. Should she keep her relationship with her new patient strictly professional—or give in to the passion sparking between them?

A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

www.Giadawn.com

Here is a quick history of my story as a writer: After several deaths in the family and a health scare of my own, I quit writing back in 2008 after releasing several titles with Samhain Publishing. When my son was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes--young adult onset--in May of this year, I did what any good mother would. Cried for several days and then went to check out the Brenda Novak Auction where I bid on, and won, a three chapter critique from Ellora’s Cave!! I pitched to the lovely Julie Naughton at the Readers and Writers weekend sponsored by Lori Foster and Duffy Brown in June, and voila, the Red Masks Series was born. The first in the series, A Taste of Winter, was released Nov, 2013 and the second in the series, Master of Silk was released March 2014.

I also want to state that the Brenda Novak’s Online Auction for Diabetes Research begins May 1st!! Go and check it out. It’s for a great cause and there are some fabulous things up for grabs!!!! http://brendanovak.auctionanything.com/

THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE! Gia

Guest Blogger Jane Leopold Quinn - Sigh…

Sigh…

Not a very positive way to begin a blog post but we here in the Chicago area have had enough of cold temperatures, wind and rain. Thankfully by May, there should be no snow but we Chicagoans know never to say never about the weather. This is a photo of what I can't wait to see every day and not seeing yet this spring. 

And at least my writing desk is in front of the balcony doors so that my view is always to the outside. Our balcony is small, just large enough for two chairs and flowers. I know you gardeners will freak out but all the flowers are fake. Gardening is not my thing. I don't really enjoy digging around in the dirt and watering the flowers every day. We are ten floors up and the wind whips through drying out the plantings, hence watering every day. So, we solved that problem by buying a white trellis from Home Depot (try taking that home on two buses since we don't have a car). Below the trellis is a plastic trough with floral foam and small pebbles. Both are loaded with multi-colored fake flowers from the dollar store. Sometimes the flowers blow away but they're wired pretty tightly to the trellis. This way, no matter what time of year it is, no matter what the weather is, I can look out and see beautiful bright flowers. Here's a photo of them. 

It's been hard for me to write this winter because of the unrelenting cold and snow but I have moved forward with some projects and am also determined to finally finish up my erotic historical western series. What has encouraged me is my first Ellora's Cave release, Lost and Found. That was February 7. 

In my story telling, I find myself obsessed with small towns. I was raised in one, went to college, and taught third grade in one. Then I moved to the big city. Chicago. At that time years ago, I couldn't wait to leave my small Iowa town. Now, apparently, I'm yearning to go back home. Five of my thirteen books take place in a small town. Lost and Found is my sixth small town book. Birchwood Falls was created, populated and designed by me.

Lost and Found is about hunky Marine Marc Rahn who enlisted after his high school graduation to escape the pain of his parents’ fatal car wreck. Now on leave after eight years and multiple Middle East deployments, he returns to his small hometown to put to rest his suspicions that the “accident” might actually have been anything but.

What he doesn’t expect is an intriguing flash of a pierced nipple from a new neighbor on move-in day. The breast’s owner, Phoebe Barnes, is a beautiful young jazz singer who plans to make it big in the music business. Her early years in foster care made her hungry for attention and fame, and she’s out to achieve both at almost any cost.

Despite their differing paths, Marc and Phoebe quickly give in to the sizzling attraction between them. But will their passion turn deadly when the person who killed Marc’s family decides two murders might not have been enough?

Here's an excerpt you might find amusing -- and hot!

Unhhh, what’s that? Phoebe cranked open one eye to check the time. Nine twenty-two. Shit. She’d wanted to sleep until at least ten. Nine twenty-two wasn’t really too early but still—

Rolling off the bed, she slowly trekked to the front room of her small house and peeked out the picture window to see what the ruckus was about. Someone was moving into the bungalow across the street. Finally. The house had been empty for quite a while and was too cute not to have a family living there.

A big man at the back of a truck directed movers into the house. It was a small truck so there wasn’t all that much furniture. An iron bedframe balanced against a tire while the man bent over, his gray t-shirt riding up exposing a muscular back and giving her a peek at a gorgeous ass in snug jeans. He and another man in work clothes hoisted a black leather couch into the air and marched it up the porch steps and through the door.

She put out a hand to balance against the window frame, too curious now to go back to bed. When the man bounded back down the porch steps, his gaze riveted on hers.

His face with its hard features, strong chin and dark shadow of a beard tugged at her heart. Short black hair stuck up over his forehead, which would have made him look boyish if he hadn’t been filling out that t-shirt and jeans so well. She saw all this clearly. The street was only two lanes wide. Did this small amount of furniture mean the fascinating-looking man didn’t have a wife and family? Not that it would make any difference to her.

He lifted a hand to shade his eyes, a big grin splitting his face.

She shivered. The arm holding her up shook. “Oh my God!” Slamming back to the side of the window, she pressed both palms against the wall’s rough plaster.

Naked! She’d just shot him full-frontal nudity. She’d been so engrossed in the sight of him she’d completely forgotten her own bare-assedness. Oh shit! He’ll either never speak to me or he’ll be over here in five minutes.

How the hell was she going to get back to the protection of the bedroom? Her tiny house offered a clear view from the front window all the way through to the back. Afraid to peek around the curtain to see if he was still watching, she realized how cold she was. Her nipples—with a little gold ring piercing one tip—stood out like ripe, hard raspberries. Of course it was the chilly temperature and not her immediate attraction to the man’s jeans. And chest. And flat belly…

Okay. Pull yourself together. Just sprint to the bedroom. He’s probably not looking any longer. Just go!

She flew through the bedroom door, threw herself onto the rumpled bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. A fine time to be embarrassed by her nudity but she liked to pick the time and place to grace a man with her body.

And welcoming a new neighbor with a buck-naked flash wasn’t quite the same as taking over a plate of cookies or a tuna casserole.

Then it hit her again. She had just flashed the new neighbor. Laughter pealed out in a rush. Jesus. What a nutcase. Well it probably wasn’t the first naked woman he’d ever seen. Unless maybe he was gay?

Crap! What a waste that would be.

***

“Well I’ll be damned.”

“Did you say something, Mr. Rahn?”

His balls had instantly drawn up into the hot shelter of his groin, his cock swelling in interest. Swallowing heavily the last spit in his mouth, he stood transfixed.

He would have to have perfect long-distance eyesight.

Lost and Found is an erotic M/F novel and is available here:

Ellora's Cave ~ and Amazon ~ and Barnes and Noble ~ and AllRomance eBooks

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt!

Jane Leopold Quinn

My Romance: Love With a Scorching Sensuality

Website ~ Twitter ~ My Blog ~ Exquisite Quills! Blog

Sur-reality Show

So I recently found out that I live near a reality show. For real. Now, I live in a town of roughly 5,000 people. What are the chances that one family's worth of those residents would appear on the Discovery Channel on Sunday nights?

Alaska: The Last Frontier follows the Kilcher clan, longtime homesteaders here in Homer, as they hunt, fish, skin rabbits, run their farm, deal with the extreme conditions, raise children, and do other typical Alaska-type things.

It's not an uncommon lifestyle here in Alaska, in fact, many people, including us, do many of those things. It honestly never occurred to me that it would make good reality-show material. But come to find out, people love watching the Kilchers. The show is now in its 4th season. Over 134,000 people follow their Facebook page, for goodness' sake.

I have to admit I haven't watched it, but plenty of people in town do. The buzz is that some things are exaggerated or staged, but the gist of the show is real. I finally decided I should check it out online. I can't tell you how surreal it is to go on the Discovery website and see someone I've chatted with in the grocery store on "live cam", trudging out to the woodshed. Is that really something people want to see? Apparently so! There were over a hundred people logged into the chat window, talking about Charlotte going to the woodshed.

Huh? 

I'm really not sure I want to watch the show; it would feel like spying on my neighbors. The Kilchers live maybe fifteen miles away as the crow flies, and I often visit a family who lives just down the road from them. Although I don't know all the Kilchers, I've been to parties with some of them. I've even been to Otto's house. Little did I know that before long, they'd be kinda-sorta-famous, in that reality/celebrity limbo kind of way.

Honestly, it's a little bit demoralizing for a writer. Here I sit in my little cabin, brainstorming ideas until the blood seeps from my ears, when maybe I should just be putting up a live camera.  I find my daily life pretty ordinary, and it certainly never occurred to me that it might be worth televising. "There goes Juniper, trudging to the kitchen to make more tea. There she goes to the outhouse." Ooh, yes, outhouse-cam, now you're talking!

But then another strange thing happened. A few author friends of mine began receiving calls from a producer in LA. Apparently he's interested in shooting a pilot for a reality show about ... you guessed it, Alaskan romance authors. Something about steaming up the long winter nights. So there you go. Take it from me, if they can make a reality show about writers sitting at their computers -- even in Alaska -- they can make a reality show about anything.

So can you imagine a reality show in your town/neighborhood/house? Would you want to star in one?

Guest Blogger Charlie Cochrane - Saving Jonty and Orlando?

A few weeks ago, we watched “Saving Mr. Banks”. (Which, because of the Tom Hanks connection is known chez Cochrane as “Saving Private Banks” but I digress...) It’s a very interesting film. Mr. Cochrane, being a devoted father of three girls, was literally moved to tears by the family flashbacks, the slow descent of PL Travers’s father into alcoholism and his interaction with her. Beautifully done.

However, for me, it’s the scenes with P L Travers herself at the Disney studios, negotiating (being manipulated?) her way through the transformation of book to film, which I can’t get out of my mind. What would I have done in her position, being asked to give permission for changes to be made to her story which she simply didn’t want to be made, for a film she was opposed to from the start? I kept wanting to shout, “No! Don’t do it!” at the screen.

Now, I’m a pragmatic soul. “What cover do you want, Charlie?” the publisher asks. “One that sells, please,” I reply. Yet sometimes pragmatism had to give way to integrity. What if somebody came along and wanted to turn the Cambridge Fellows books into a film or TV series? “Great,” I’d say. “Bring it on.” But what if they wanted to make wholly unacceptable changes? For example, to set it in a Cambridge as false as the London of the Mary Poppins film? (No, Mr. Disney, that was not a British robin feathering its nest.)

What if they’d wanted to change the tone of the stories? To introduce some heterosexual love interest or (has a panic attack) change the relationship between Jonty and Orlando to friends from lovers. Worse still to have – this is the stuff of nightmares – somebody playing Jonty or Orlando who had the equivalent of Dick Van Dyke’s desperately bad cockney accent.

See? It’s an author’s nightmare. I guess we’ve all played the “casting” game, thinking about who we’d have playing our favourite characters in a TV adaptation: maybe we’ve used the images of those people when we’ve been writing the story itself, or when filling in our cover art requests. In the event of a film or television adaptation really happening, we’d probably have very little say in much of the production stuff. Ultimately, the only sanction we’d have is not to sell the performance rights (I hope you’ve checked your paperwork to ensure you haven’t signed them away because they appear as a default in some publisher’s draft contracts), although if we were put under the sort of pressure that the Disney corporation seem to have exerted on P L Travers, we’d have to be damn strong to resist.

What would be the deal breaker for you and your characters? I think I’d put up with a lot for most of my books (so long as the homosexual love element was never eliminated) but watching that film had made me realise that Jonty and Orlando are an exception.

Now I’m going to go and lie down in a darkened room, as I’ve had a ghastly image come into my head of Justin Bieber as Jonty and Zac Efron as Orlando...



As Charlie Cochrane couldn't be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice—like managing a rugby team—she writes, with books published by Samhain, Carina, MLR, BSB and (coming soon!) Riptide.

Charlie's Cambridge Fellows Series of Edwardian romantic mysteries was instrumental in her being named Author of the Year 2009 by the review site Speak Its Name. She’s a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, Mystery People, International Thriller Writers Inc and is on the organising team of the UK Meet, for readers/writers of GLBT fiction. She regularly appears with The Deadly Dames, five dizzy but delightful mystery writers.

Links, etc:

You can reach Charlie at cochrane.charlie2@googlemail.com (maybe to sign up for her newsletter?) or catch her on Facebook, twitter, goodreads, her website or her blog.