Yes, just when you thought it wouldn’t happen– it’s HERE! It’s here! *grins* Special just for me on my 3rd anniversary with my male– Ride Me, Baby is available!Where may you get this fun, erotic romp? CLICK HERE.

Synopsis:

When Baby meets Harley, sparks fly and not all of them good.  The man wants her bike for Pete’s sake and has a jealous streak a mile wide.

There’s no way Baby can run a motorcycle shop on her own, not without some serious backing and the mysterious Doc seems the likely candidate.  Just what is Baby doing to earn the backing of the mystery man?

Seriously, I’m not kidding. I’ve got a new story coming out soon over at Aspen Mountain Press. Which is great because it’s their birthday at the end of the month. *grins* What you might ask, would the story be about? It would be a story I wrote a LONG time ago- one when I thought I could write contemporary and eschew a life of BDSM and paranormal. Little did I know that my past would come back and one of my editors would ask to see the story once more. Thus- Ride Me, Baby has a home and yes– it’s coming out in August.

Follow the noise of rejoicing! Yes, I am too. Granted I’m in edits for it and for Love Beyond Time. It took a major act of change to really get me grooving with both sets of edits now. I’m feeling better and at the same time, I’m feeling like I’m coming home at last. It’s not easy, oh gods, it’s so not easy. But at the same time, I’m at that point where I’m able to move myself forward now– see what I want to do and how to go about it. Which means one thing majorly– I’m getting into the writing habit because I’ve got to edit. LOL

The other happy thing is that by doing this, I’ve made myself happy. Really. I’m feeling so relieved and at the same time, happy to offer readers something they’ve never seen before from me. Part of me wonders what you’ll think, part of me hopes you’ll like it. Part of me wonders if this means that I can write contemporary on occasion. But happiness abounds regardless.

Today is Beltane, the day where pagans celebrate not just spring, but also the blossoming of things all throughout nature. It’s also the day of the bonfires to honour Brigid, the Celtic fire goddess. For my family, it means that we’ll have a meal that reminds us of this time- the pasturing of the lambs, the moving of the flocks to better regions to graze and also when we put out all of the fires and wait for the sacred fire on Tara to be relit and that flame to be brought to light all of the hearths. Most people don’t realize that the sacred trees of the druids are used to light that fire upon Tara hill, but they are. More importantly in my mind, is the thought that goes into our world today- what do we do that reminds us of the sacred divine to keep  it alive in our daily actions and thoughts.

Today, I’ll be redoing my altar, shaking off the last of the winter thoughts and bringing in the freshness of spring. Because I’m also a fire baby, though born in September, I will be creating a small pile of sacred sticks to be used in various rituals for this summer season. The colours for the altar are brighter as we head into the second half of the year, bringing to mind the Oak King’s time to reign.

For me, cooking becomes lighter, but at the same time, more flavourful with herbs and spices that allow you to experience other countries and other places all without leaving your own home. Beltane is also the one day a year we can let go of ourselves- to lust freely and have that lust returned. In the olden days, babies conceived at Beltane were considered triple blessed and cared for not just by the parents, but by the village. Why? Because children born at this “between” time were considered to become great among them either as druids as seers or even as warriors. Their abilities were linked to this thinning between this mortal realm and the other realms as well.

Tonight, I might let myself go a little bit- drinking some of my Keel and Curley wine. Then I might take my male and turn the erotic tables on him for tonight. It’d serve him right since I’ve been suffering since the hysterectomy. I still have another week until I’m fully able to play, but there’s no saying I can’t pleasure him. *grins* Today is a day of physical and spiritual pleasure. One that you take and do in a manner befitting the gods and mankind. One of giving and receiving. You cannot give unless you receive. You cannot receive unless you give. For me, it means cooking for my family, walking Shango and enjoying the bright sunshine, and then preparing a special chocolate dessert I know my male and my nephew, who’s coming over, will especially enjoy.

Triple Chocolate Chip Cookies

Ingredients

• 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon fine salt
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
• 8 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick)
• 6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
• 2 large eggs
• 1 large yolk
• 1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
• 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
• 6 ounces semisweet chocolate chips
• 6 ounces white chocolate chips

Directions

Whisk the flour, baking powder, salt, baking soda, and cloves together in a medium bowl. Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Remove pan from the heat, add the bittersweet chocolate, then set aside until melted.

Whisk the eggs, brown sugar, and vanilla together in a medium bowl, then slowly whisk in chocolate. Stir in the flour mixture to make a loose dough. Don’t overwork the dough. Fold in the chips. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm, about 2 hours.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (or 325 if convection option is available).

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Form dough into balls, about 2 inches or 1 1/2 ounces each, and put on the prepared baking sheets, leaving a couple inches between the cookies. Bake until outside is crackly, but the center is still moist, about 13 to 15 minutes, or 12 in convection. Cool on a rack.

You know, just when I thought that 2009 was a crappy year for me personally and not that great professionally as I struggled, I find out I’m nominated for Best Paranormal of the year by Love Romances. Can you believe it? How did I get nominated? Well, my second Marauder book, Call of the Wylde was nominated for Best Paranormal book.  Starting today, voting begins, so that means that if you have a spare 15 minutes or less and want to put your vote into this reader/reviewer awards, you can be part of the fun. How do you get to be part of this? Let me quote Dawn Roberto’s email for you:

To find the nominee list, go to the LRC’s files section of the lop and scroll down till you see the nominee list. Then make your choices for each category. You can vote for one or all the categories.

Link to LRC is: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/loveromancescafe

NOTE- you must be a member to access the files.

Email me at dawn_roberto @ yahoo DOT com with “LRC’s Best of 2009 Awards” in subject line. this is important b/c anything else will get deleted.

Voting ends on 22nd with the 23rd as a deadline for those in other time zones/countries to get their votes in. Anything after the 23rd is thrown out unopened so make sure the votes are in before then.

Award winners will be announced on 2/25 at NOON EST on the LRC’s yahoo loop from noon-2 PM EST.

What does this mean for me? It means I’m asking you to consider me for best paranormal of the year. If you’ve not read my Marauder series, you might want to give it a try before voting ends. Why? Well, Bardic Tales, the next volume will be out soon– and rumour has it that the short story has morphed into a full blown story dealing with Elathan and his anamcara. Which means– soon you’ll have the third of nine brothers to enjoy. *grins*

I’m often asked about who my favourite hero is when I write. Funny thing is, my favourite isn’t one of my own. In fact, he’s the creation of Elizabeth Peter’s (aka Dr. Barbara Mertz aka Barbara Michaels). To be honest, he’s not a true hero, but an anti-hero. If I were honest, he’s an art thief who doesn’t believe in violence against his own person. He’s British and very bold  and daring, as long as he gets out before the cops arrive. But there is his feelings for Vicky Bliss- the woman who aggravates him and enthralls him at the same time. In fact, it’s his words that give me the ultimate declaration of love that just makes me sigh and whimper in need.

The Vicky Bliss series is the first series I read by Elizabeth Peters before I discovered the Amelia Peabody series. I found myself reflected in Vicky and when it came to the book, Street of the Five Moons, I found myself reluctantly falling for the bad guy– or so I thought he was. Who was he? Sir John Smythe, who is really John Tregarth. As the books progressed, John and Vicky’s on again, off again relationship progressed and regressed as they got into various troubles of the antiquities kind (she is a museum assistant curator, he a thief of said items). But in Trojan Gold, it came to a head when they were facing death by avalanche. John said something to Vicky as the roaring drowned out his voice– and she wanted to know if what he said was what she read on his lips. Thus came the most romantic line ever– at least to me.

“I love you,” he said flatly. “I- love- you. Shall I elaborate? I have loved you. I do love you. I will love you. I didn’t want to love you. I tried not to love you. I will undoubtedly regret loving you, but- God help me- I love you- so much-”

*sigh* Can we say that declaration just takes the cake when it comes to love? It’s also why I hope one day my heroes can reach the pinnacle that Sir John has in my heart. Why else would I take his last name as my own?

Just got my cover for Love Beyond Time! It’s gorgeous! Want a look? I know you do…..

Love Beyond Time cover

So what do you think? I love it! The artists at Pink Petal really captured the essence of the storyline I created for Love Beyond Time, and it just rocks seeing the Giza Pyramids. Especially Menkaure’s.

I’m not quite sure where this will go or if it will go. We shall see. But I admit, I’m fond of the story idea behind it.

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Katja sat at her computer, staring at the email she wrote. Fear beat in her heart as she hit send. She was risking it all on a small chance that she hadn’t fucked up once more. Rubbing the ache at the back of her neck, she logged off and went to take a shower before bed.

How had this happened, she wondered. How could I mess up in something so important to me? Carelessly, Katja stripped off her jeans and shirt. After getting the water as hot as she could tolerate it, Katja stepped into the shower. As the water sluiced over her body, her mind kept tumbling over what happened and how she could make it right. Though her friend said everything was okay, in her heart, she knew that wasn’t completely true.

Taking the washcloth, she poured some of her favourite shower gel on it and lathered it up. As she scrubbed her body clean, memories of being washed by another teased her body and mind. Slowly, she allowed the memories to overwhelm her, bringing them to life once more. The only person she could talk to about this problem just happened to be the person involved and it left her feeling bereft. Her hands slowly slid up her legs, washing in small circles teasing each inch of flesh. Then as she washed her thighs, she could feel his touch, his breath upon them. Her body trembled in the throes of the memory.

The washcloth felt slick yet had a slightly rough texture against her skin. Katja bit back a moan as she trailed it up her stomach and rubbed it against her breasts. She was playing with fire, bringing forth the memories of that one incident. However, her need to feel him, be close with him was guiding her. Katja let loose the last restraint that kept the memories from being relived and suddenly she felt him there. His hands covered hers and began massaging her breasts, his mouth claiming hers.

A jangle of the phone broke the moment. Katja bit back a cry of frustration as the sensations fled. “Dammit, who ever is calling best be giving me good news.”

She stepped out of the wet shower, the cordless phone ringing on the bathroom counter. Drying her hands on a towel, she then answered it. “Hello.”

“Katja? It’s Damian. You’ve got a few minutes to talk?”

She looked down at her wet, soapy body and chuckled. “Can I put you on hold just for a couple of minutes? I’m dripping wet and need a towel.”

There was a slight pause on the other end, then a low chuckle. “I don’t mind, but go ahead.”

Katja placed Damian on hold then jumped into the shower, rinsing off her body. Her heart was racing as she tried to figure out why Damian was calling now. She shut off the water and grabbed the warm towel hanging from the hook. Wrapping herself in it, she picked up the phone and took Damian off hold.

“What’s going on? It’s like four in the morning there,” she said, her tone showing her concern.

“I couldn’t sleep well. What’s going on with you, Katja? You’ve been hiding from everyone online and in person. Hell, not even your closest friends have been able to find out what’s going on. So, I’m calling. What the fuck is going on, Katja?”

Katja sighed, knowing she couldn’t dodge Damian. He was one of her closest friends and of all the people she knew, he knew some of her most closely guarded secrets. Wiping away a droplet of water from her forehead, she left the bathroom and headed to the living room where she could sit and talk. “I’m not going to lie to you, Damian. Yes, something is going on, but I’m not sure how to talk about it.”

“Try. Hell, whatever is going on has even Garrett upset. He says he hasn’t heard from you in a couple of days, which is a lot more recent than any of us.”

Katja curled up on the couch, pulling the afghan over her hips and legs. She closed her eyes and tried to think on how to explain her actions. Nothing seemed right or accurate. Lying to Damian was an impossible task; he always knew when she held back.

“What do you want me to say, Damian? Right now, I’m trying to handle something beyond my comprehension. Well, perhaps not beyond it, but definitely a first in my books. I shared a link with someone and it was a complete one. The person also felt it.”

The quietness on the other end of the line told Katja that Damian was trying to take in the subtlety of her words. She wasn’t sure that he completely understood what she meant, but there was no other way without saying exactly what happened.

“Kat. What happened and does Garrett have anything to do with this?”

She bit the inside of her cheek while trying to not curse Damian for his insight. It was one of his gifts and she hated when he turned it on her. They were close enough as friends, but sometimes, it made it tough for them both to handle. Especially when she spoke of things that he had hidden and she knew anyway. The joys of having psi-talents.

“Yes. What happened is hard to explain. You know I’m going to Brussels and Amsterdam next week, right?” She heard his murmur of assent. “Well, I’m not sure I’ll be meeting up with Garrett while I’m there after all.”

“Why not? What does this have to do with your empathy-“ His voice faded away for a moment. “Shit. He’s empathic too?”

Katja didn’t answer. There was no need as Damian realized the truth of it. She picked at the hand-knitted afghan and tried to keep her mental shields where not even Damian could get past them. Finally, Damian broke the uncomfortable silence. “You want to tell me what happened?”

That you can find my ebooks at my publisher sites– www.loose-id.net, www.aspenmountainpress.com, and redrosepublishing.com? But even better- you can get them at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, www.allromanceebooks.com, and www.fictionwise.com 

How cool is that? I saw that today and started giggling. I’ve made it to the big leagues of buying places! YAY!

I’ve been so excited over this short story I wrote. Granted I was forced into writing it because of my crit partners who were listening to me bitch via IM about my male that night. But it’s funny how a story can take away the sting and give you some type of closure. Now I look at the story fondly and think that all men should be required to read at least one romance novel a year. At least.

Excerpt:

Dear Garrett—We’ve been together for some time now, and we’ve progressed much further than in a traditional role between mistress and submissive. I enjoy the time I spend with you and I’ve learned so much about being content with myself and within a relationship. It amazes me how we talk about everything and anything. However, there are times when I don’t often speak on things that matter to me that would allow me to enjoy our intimate moments more fully. You asked before that I correct you and teach you what you need to know to serve me. I’m taking you at your word and I want you to know that I love you and enjoy you and your luscious body. That said, we need to talk about how you pleasure me when we’re not having intercourse….

Carenna had memorized the letter, knowing the exact moment when Garrett had found the letter. The muffled exclamation in the other room had her convinced that any minute she’d be hearing the words she dreaded. But it was quiet. Almost too quiet, as if he had managed to sneak out of the house and walk away. Shaking, Carenna sat up on the bed and went to the bedroom door.

Opening it, she saw Garrett standing there looking at her. The look on his face wasn’t one of anger, but of something she hadn’t seen on his face since their last argument, many months ago. It was shame. “Carenna, I’m—”

Carenna stepped forward, placing a finger over his mouth. If she let him talk, she’d cry. But now wasn’t the time to cry. Now was the time to love him and show him what she wanted, what she craved from him so desperately it woke her up from her dreams, aroused beyond belief. “Come to bed with me, Garrett. Just love me and let me show you.”

I received a rejection this week from publisher I really would like to work with. In fact, I was on the borderline of wondering– would this be my way in or be a rejection–and I was prepared either way. But this rejection didn’t hurt. In fact, this rejection made my day. Why? This rejection made mention of my writing talents, the parts of the story they liked, the parts they thought needed more work. And most importantly, they were rejecting it too because the story wouldn’t sell as well within their publishing area. For me, that was the big thing. The other things could be worked on, but they were honest with me and with themselves to know that the story itself wouldn’t be a huge seller for either of us and informed me of that because it really honestly, didn’t fit with their lines. 

It’s one of the best rejection letters I’ve received since I started writing professionally in 2001. In fact, I think of all the other rejection letters I’ve received, it goes in the top three. They took the time to tell me what was liked, what they knew about me as a published author, and that the topic wouldn’t sell well. So, though it stung because rejections are never fun– it was one that didn’t hurt. In fact, it increased my desire even more to write something that will fit all aspects of their publishing company.

Now, I spent about 2 hours bemoaning the rejection. Why? Because I like the story I wrote, even though it doesn’t quite fit the publisher in question. So, I’m thinking on where it’ll be submitted to next and what publishers might find it a better fit. Other than that, I was giggling and damn happy about them wanting to see something else from me. So, on that note, I’m getting writing. I’ve got a couple of stories that might do well with them– once they’re done and edited.