What’s in the booooox?

Well. Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m just cramming books in there however they’ll fit. I’ve seen some Debbie Macomber, some Merline Lovelace, a bunch of Harlequin Historicals and Silhouette Intimate moments.

What you get is a SURPRISE!

These books are in mostly decent condition, but they are of grab-bag quality. So. You want a surprise package of vintage romances? Comment here with your favorite thrift-store or bargain find! I’ll pick on winner by Sunday, 9 pm EST. You must live in the United States for this one (sorry, it’s because of postage).

c’mon! You know you want to see what’s in the boooxxxxx!!!

M

What’s in the booooox?

Well. Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m just cramming books in there however they’ll fit. I’ve seen some Debbie Macomber, some Merline Lovelace, a bunch of Harlequin Historicals and Silhouette Intimate moments.

What you get is a SURPRISE!

These books are in mostly decent condition, but they are of grab-bag quality. So. You want a surprise package of vintage romances? Comment here with your favorite thrift-store or bargain find! I’ll pick on winner by Sunday, 9 pm EST. You must live in the United States for this one (sorry, it’s because of postage).

c’mon! You know you want to see what’s in the boooxxxxx!!!

M

And I was totally hooked.
THIS SONG, GUYS! OMG, THIS SONG!!!!!

If I could have this song, a fireplace, a bearskin rug and Norman Reedus…well.

But there’s also this one:

And a whole lot more!

Learn more about them at their website and at Twitter.

And buy their music! It’s awesomazing.

musicians: I’m always looking for new music. If you’d like to be featured on Tunes Tuesday, drop me a line at readinbed @ gmail.com and point me toward your songs! No promises, but if I like what I hear, I’ll feature you. And, I listen to all kinds of music except Christian Inspirational!

Setting can be more than just a place where a book “happens.” It can be an integral part of a story. A book set in New York City is very different than one set in rural Pennsylvania, even if you’re telling essentially the same story. Characters from different places will react differently to the same situations, just like people in real life do!

I tend to set most of my books in rural central Pennsylvania, in the Harrisburg/Lancaster areas. Why? Well…because that’s where I live, lived and/or grew up, and it’s easier for me to imagine the actual locations of these places than to make them up. I’ve also set a number of books in fantasy worlds, and I love doing that too!The setting of a book changes/enhances or adds to the voice and tone of a story, just like the characters do.

Setting can also be more than the overall location, it can be something specific within the story. A certain place that is important…

Contemporary setting, central rural PA
Dirty by Megan Hart

There could be no talking here, for even a shout would’ve been difficult to hear above the pounding throb of the music. The bass thumped its pulse in the pit of my stomach, the hollow of my throat, my wrists, between my thighs. The crowd surged around us like the ocean against rocks, parting and retreating to return in the next instant, surrounding us. It pressed in on us as the song changed and brought more dancers onto the floor.

He wasn’t smiling any more, like this was serious business. Like he could see nothing else around us, like his world had narrowed to only me. I shivered at the look.

When he put his other hand on my side, up high, just under my breast, I startled but had no place to go. No retreat. I looked up, into his eyes, those light and dark eyes, and lost myself in them.

We moved together, and my hand slid from his shoulder to cup the back of his neck. The edges of his sandy hair tickled my knuckles. The heat of his hand branded me through my blouse. Heat flared, too, in my belly where it rubbed against his groin.

It had been a long, long time since I’d danced with anyone, an eternity since I’d had a man’s hands on me, since I’d seen my own desire reflected in another’s gaze. It stole my breath and drew my tongue out to lick my lips. The motion caught his attention the way a cat will watch a mouse.

His hand slid up my back to tangle in my hair, tip my head back, bare my throat to his mouth as he bent to slide his lips along my skin. I felt myself gasp but couldn’t hear it. He pulled me closer, and I gave in to his whim.

The crowd had become one body moving to the music’s sensual beat. One entity with us in the center of it, pressed so close I could no longer be certain where I ended and he began. His hand slid up to embrace my breast through my blouse. I blinked and saw nothing but his face shadowed with blue and green, the colors pulsing in time to the rhythm.

Nobody watched us. Nobody saw. We had become part of something bigger and yet remained separate from it. The couple next to us kissed, their tongues tangling as their hands stroked and kneaded each other. The dance floor had become an orgy of lust. I smelled it, tasted it, saw it reflected in his eyes and knew he saw it in mine. The song changed again, blending into the previous one without break.

Bodies all around us pressed us together. Sweat slid down my spine and shone on his forehead. Everything had become heat and beat.

His cock pressed hard against my belly. The sensation parted my lips in silent reaction, and his gaze watched my mouth again, his expression tense, like he was in pain.

It wasn’t pain that thinned his mouth. I knew it by the way his jaw tightened when another surge of the crowd rocked me against his body. The hand on my ass splayed, then stroked upward to reach the small of my back, then down again to caress and press me against his erection.

I was lost. Lost in his eyes, in his touch, in the pounding pulse of music and lust. Lost in my own desire, which I’d denied for so long and now could no longer fight.

I saw the shift in his gaze and knew the exact moment when he recognized my reaction. If he’d smiled smugly or leered, I’d have fled. Instead, his eyes narrowed slightly, and his expression became a mixture of determination and helpless admiration. He looked at me as though he didn’t care if the song ever stopped or if he never looked at another woman again.

And a different sort of setting…

Stillness Faine had never been assigned to a house so modest it didn’t have a name. What sort of man was Edward Delaw, to hold such a high position within the Court of Firth and yet abide in a house as humble this? She paused with her hand on the front gate to look it over before making her way down the crushed shell path to the front door.

“You be all right, Mistress?”

She turned to look back at the driver of the carriage she’d hired to bring her from Pevensie station. “Yes, Thomas, thank you. Master Delaw is expecting me.”

Thomas gave the house a dubious look. “You sure? He might’ve sent for you, if he was.”

“I arrived early,” she assured him. “The mountain pass thawed a bit sooner than anticipated. I was able to travel more swiftly than the Order predicted. I’ll be fine.”

He looked her over. She knew he saw a small woman with dark blonde hair pulled into a thick braid spilling down her back and clad in a dark plum traveling gown of modest cut and sturdy fabric. She carried a trundle-bag in one hand and her overcoat, too heavy for the early spring weather, in the other.

She wondered if her appearance disappointed him.

“Right.” He nodded again and clucked to the horses. “Well, I’ll be back this way tomorrow afters, if you need a ride back.”

She returned her attention to the house. Spring-green ivy climbed red-brick walls, and the gabled roof spoke of cozy, tucked-away garret rooms. Smoke from the chimney wisped its gray tail against the background of blue sky.

Shells crunched beneath her soles, and ten strides took her to the front door. She smiled at the sight of the knocker, a pixie’s face done in copper with the ring through its nose. Fine details showed the owner of this house had a sense of humor and style, too, no matter the lack of lavish wings and gardens.

She took a moment to center herself before she knocked. Each assignment was to be met face-forward, but every time she faced a new patron her stomach churned. The trick was to keep her inner turmoil from showing. After all, a patron who sent to the Order of Solace for a Handmaiden had certain expectations.

She recited the five principles under her breath, and calm overtook her. Before she could lift the knocker, the door opened so fast she stumbled. In the next moment she was pushed back by the man ejecting himself from the doorway.

“…later,” he was saying over his shoulder. “Hello! What’s this?”

In one swift motion he moved and spoke, reaching for her arm to keep her from falling. His fingers gripped her upper arm while the other hand came around to grab her wrist. He pulled. Nessa regained her feet.

“Who are you?” The man she thought must be Edward Delaw demanded.

He let her go, and Nessa shook the folds of her gown around her ankles, straightening her appearance swiftly. “I’m your Handmaiden, my lord Delaw. You sent for me?”

“You weren’t due in for another fortnight.”

“I was able to travel faster than anticipated. I trust it’s not an inconvenient time for my arrival?”

“I’m just off to Pevensie to see Prince Cillian’s latest toys. I’ll be home later. See to it Margera gets you settled.” He looked down at the worn trundle bag at her feet. “Is that all you brought?”

“Aye, my lord, I –”

“Ah, yes.” His lips tightened in what might have been meant as a smile. “Yes, the Order informed me I’d be responsible for providing for you. Very well. I shall make arrangements for that while I’m in town.”

He started off down the path again, shouting out to the man who’d brought round a prancing black horse from the back of the house. “Oi, Peter! Hurry, lad, I must be off!”

Her new patron swung up on the back of the horse, slung the leather bag Peter handed him round his neck, and urged the horse into motion.

It wasn’t the most illustrious greeting she’d ever had, to be sure. “Hello,” she called as Delaw vanished down the lane.

Peter turned, eyebrows lifting. “Hello. Pleading your mercy, but – ah, yes. You must be the Handmaiden, and thank the Holy Mother you’ve arrived.”

“I am.” Nessa paused as Peter strode toward her and bent to lift her bag. He opened the front door for her. “Though I fear I must ask…why so happy to see me?”

Peter chuckled and stepped aside to let her through. “Because he’s a right bit of a cranky bastard, our lord Edward, and frankly, Mum and me is afeared if he don’t get some solace he’ll rant himself into apoplexy.”

“Ah.” Simple enough an answer, and not unexpected. “I’ll do what I can.”

Visit the other Snippet Saturday authors:

Eliza Gayle
Rhian Cahill
Jody Wallace
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
Zoë Archer

Okay, I’m just kidding. This is actually my very first Snippet Saturday, and the topic is fears, I was just trying to be clever. But then I thought, well…it sort of IS a nightmare. A little bit. Because I fear I won’t remember to post my blog…then I remember, I’m writing this in December and scheduling it. So I should be fine.

Phew.

Still with me?

Fear. You might think horror novels are the only place where fear places a large role, but I think fear is the motivating factor behind almost all fiction. What motivates us more than our fears? I don’t necessarily mean being scared of the dark or the thing under the bed. I mean things like death, loss, financial insecurity, being in an accident. Even fears of wonderful things like having kids, getting married…falling in love.

In my most recent book, ALL FALL DOWN, fear plays a large role in both of the main characters. Sunshine fears life in the “outside” world. Her stepmother, Liesel, fears getting what she always wanted — a family — isn’t as great as she thought it would be. Both women struggle with their own fears and must learn how to deal with them.

EXCERPT:

Sunny finished every day at four, but always went to the library a few blocks away to wait until Chris picked her up at a little after six. Liesel could’ve come for her, but it interrupted nap times and was a huge hassle to get all three kids in the car for a fifteen minute drive. Besides, Sunny liked the library. In those two hours, she could study for her G.E.D. She could sit and read, uninterrupted, which was a luxury she’d never known in Sanctuary. Novels, magazines, newspapers, non-fiction texts on subjects she’d never heard of. She struggled sometimes with the bigger words, because though she’d been taught to read well enough to get through the family literature, reading for pleasure had been discouraged. She struggled more often with references to events and situations she didn’t know. History she’d never been taught. Slang she’d never heard.

She could also use the library’s computers to get on the internet. She’d have been allowed to use the computer at Liesel and Chris’s house, but there never seemed to be any time and Sunny felt funny asking permission to use what seemed like such a personal possession. At the library, she watched videos of funny kittens or penguins getting tickled or babies laughing. She watched television commercials for products she’d never heard of and caught pieces of movies and TV programs that made little sense. The comments left on these videos left her just as confused. The blemished seemed to make a habit out of being anonymously cruel.

Liesel said The Wizard of Oz had been her favorite movie as a little girl and had played it for the kids and Sunny. Navigating this new world made Sunny feel like Dorothy stepping out from her black and white house into a world of color so bright it didn’t seem real. Everything in this world seemed like a dream.

Sometimes she left the library with her head aching, too full of information she didn’t know how to process. Other times she turned new concepts over and over in her mind and meditated on them until the voice of the stone angel whispered and helped her piece together what had become a very, very big quilt of ideas. There was so much to learn, so much she’d been denied, and she wanted to fill herself up.
Today at the library, on the internet, she searched for information on the Family of Superior Bliss.

One site had long lists of accusations about the family, none of which were true, including the idea that they sacrificed animals to Satan. Sunny could only laugh at such blatant misconception. Another site showed photos of family members, including the only picture of Sunny herself, the one the news people had used. It had been taken during one of the visits from the social people who came to make sure the children were safe. Sunny clicked away from that site fast. Too many memories. And then, finally, scrolling through pages of links that had nothing to do with her family but another with a father figure that people had labeled a “cult,” she stopped on a simple website detailing local Lebanon County religious history.

This site had pictures of Papa as a young man with his wife next to him, baby John in her arms. Pages of text detailing Papa’s background and how he’d founded the family. She found copies of his early words, so different even from the stories she remembered that had changed during her lifetime. The internet called Papa’s teaching his “doctrine” and described how it had changed over time, beginning as a simple dictate to live a life closer to the Earth and as natural as possible and becoming something “twisted,” was what the website called it.

Sunny felt twisted, reading that. Her fingers moved the mouse, clicking and scrolling, until she had to close the pages and leave the computer to stop herself from feeling sick. If she was still seeing Dr. Braddock she might’ve asked for advice on how to filter all of this, how to file it away into sections that made sense, but Sunny had stopped her appointments when they decided she should get a job. She wasn’t sad about it; Chris and Liesel and Dr. Braddock had met with Sunny and asked her how she felt about her life, and that she should know she could talk to any of them at any time. None of them understood she didn’t need to talk to them when she had the stone angel to listen.

The stone angel wasn’t real. Her voice was Sunny’s voice. She knew that. Just like she knew from deep inside her heart that not everything Papa taught was wrong. Here in the library was a big can with “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle” printed on the lid. Liesel talked about being “green,” which didn’t mean a color but things like turning off lights or buying vegetables from the stands on the side of the road.
And yet…so much of what she’d been raised to believe was wrong. It had to be. Why else would her mother have gotten cancer? Why else would Sunny have three children by the time she was nineteen, something that had seemed natural and normal in Sanctuary and was definitely frowned upon out here. The blemished might be obsessed with sex, but not when babies resulted from it. Why else, she thought as she logged off the computer to go to the parking lot to wait for Christopher, would Papa have died?
The temperature outside the library was hot. Sunny’d grown too used to air conditioning. She pulled a bottle of cola from her bag, too used to the sweet taste and bubbles to give it up in place of water. She looked up at the summer sky, blue and cloudless, and breathed in the scent of hot asphalt. Car exhaust. Her own sweat, which she knew enough now to find repulsive and cover with deodorant, though she hadn’t managed to find the courage to utilize antiperspirant. Too many chemicals, the lingering fear of cancers that started when you blocked your body’s natural functions.

All of these things were part of her new life, the one her mother had insisted she have. Sunny’d thought maybe it was so she could bring the light to Liesel and Chris, maybe even lots of other people, but it had been too difficult to convince anyone else when her own faith had been so shaken. Now she wasn’t sure what her task was supposed to be.

And how was she supposed to love what she wasn’t sure she was supposed to do?

Visit the other Snippet Saturday authors:

Eliza Gayle
Rhian Cahill
Anne Rainey
Jody Wallace
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Leah Braemel
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
TJ Michaels

Please tell us all a little bit about your latest album!

I’m so excited about it.  The new record is called ‘Light the Love.’  It’s a 5 song collection of tunes that I wrote over the last 10 years that have never found their way onto another record.  What’s so beautiful and surprising is that it all hangs together nicely.   There is still a journey.

‘Light the Love’ puts my whole career in a new perspective.  I realize that my message as a songwriter is very much about self-actualization and it always has been.  My first record, ‘Race the Light’ is about finding one’s power in the wake a devastating, life-changing break-up.  ‘Never Was’ has nothing to do with love, but is about the demons that are born by the struggle of balancing one’s dreams with the reality of the world.  It’s about being aware of the potential, the fire that lives inside of you, but being terribly afraid that you will never truly be able to access it.

‘Light the Love’ is about making peace with those demons… Accepting them as part of your life and your path and not letting them actually impede motion or damper possibility.  It’s about lighting your fire and letting it burn.  It’s about Light coexisting with Dark.

It was produced by George Stanford, who is one of my very favorite singer-songwriters (Listen to his songs Lemonade or Don’t Be the One and try not to love them.)

How long have you been playing/singing and recording music?

I’ve been singing all of my life.  I picked up the guitar when I was 17 and started writing songs.  I recorded a little album on my brother’s 4 track cassette recorder in my basement and gave it to all my friend.  They encouraged me to start playing live, so I began a Friday night residency at a coffee house in my home town.  I recorded my first studio album in 2004.

How long did you work on this album?

George and I recorded it in his home studio over the course of 2 years.  We got together every couple of months for 3-4 hours at a time.  Every other record I’ve done has been a laborious process – rewarding, but long… 12 hour sessions, every day in a row until it’s done.  With ‘Light the Love’ we took a very casual approach. Each song got the chance to breathe and I think it worked out really well.  George and I found our groove as time went on and the last songs we did together are the strongest.  It was worth it to switch up the process, even though it wasn’t a conscious choice… just sort of how it happened.

    Please tell us a little bit about how different (or not) this album is from your previous albums.

In terms of sound, it kinda splits the difference between my two previous records (I’m not including Sad Britney, because it is it’s own thing.)  ‘Race the Light’ has big production.  ‘Never Was’ has very minimal production.  ‘Light the Love’ finds a balance between the two.  It’s basically the songs as I perform them live with touches of magic here and there to elevate them.  There is something eerie going on in a lot of the songs and I respond really well to it as a listener.  The biggest difference is George’s touch.  I’m playing the acoustic and I do a little bit of electric in ‘Hard To Breathe.’  I think I played a shaker once or twice, as well.  But the rest is George and he’s a genius.

It’s the only record of mine where I don’t feel insecure listening.

What’s your favorite song on the new album?

My favorite song on the album is ‘Light the Love.’  I love it so much that I forget that it’s me.  I turn it all the way up and let myself be taken away.

  Tell us a bit about your musical influences.

My influences are mostly women.  When I started writing songs, I was listening to a lot of Joni Mitchell, Tori Amos, and Ani DiFranco.  It’s probably where my heightened emotion comes from.  Now I listen to a lot of softer people.  I’m mad into Bon Iver and James Blake.  I went through a serious Iron and Wine phase, although I’m on a break with them/him.  Ryan Adams is my favorite singer-songwriter, though I doubt you can hear that in my music.

Where can listeners learn more about you and how to buy your music?

I’ve got a website – www.chrisdallman.com.  I’m on Twitter (@chrisdallman) and Facebook (www.facebook.com/chrisdallman)  I’m an open book. As far as purchasing, you can buy CDs on my website or digital download everywhere they are sold – iTunes, Amazon, Bandcamp, Emusic, Rhapsody, Spotify.  I hope people buy them so I can make another.

    Any live shows coming up?

I have the EP release show on September 26th in Los Angeles, but the truth is that as much as I love touring I can’t seem to pull it off financially.  Every time I’ve done it, I’ve gone into great debt.  I hope to get to the east coast soon for a few pop-up shows, but, unless my audience grows and people start buying my music as opposed to downloading it illegally, I have to rely on other means to get my live show out there.

Ustream is a great resource.  I haven’t done one in a month or so because I’ve been so crazed with making a living and getting the new record out there, but I will be doing them periodically to connect with my fans all over the world.  Basically, I set up my webcam in my living room and play a show.  It’s not the same as being in the room, but people seem to like it and I have a lot of fun.  My cats sometimes make an appearance.  I have 4 felines and I live in a 1 bedroom apartment, so the odds are good   Sometimes I announce the web shows ahead of time and sometimes I am in the mood and do a set with a moment’s notice.  Keep your eyes peeled!

Christopher Dallman on Amazon.com

Find him on Bandcamp.

AND excitement! One lucky commenter today will WIN Christopher’s latest album, Light the Love! Leave a comment below and one winner will be drawn at random by midnight, Sept. 26, 2011. Good luck!

Six months later, however, Luke returns—changed. He’s survived a cave exploration gone horribly wrong…and learned the truth about the creatures hiding in the darkness. Now he hunts the monsters that torment him, finding solace only in Celia’s bed and the explosive passion they still share. But will their love be enough to make Luke stay with Celia, or will his mission draw him away for good?

* * *

Exclusive Excerpt!

Luke ran his hands up her thighs and over her hips. His cock jutted between them, and Celia stroked it slowly, smiling when she felt the lift of his hips under her. When he put his arms up over his head, those big hands gripping the spindles of her headboard, something inside her twisted and tangled. Her throat went just a little dry.

She leaned forward to kiss him, his cock a warm length against her belly. She opened the drawer of her nightstand, pulled out the box of condoms she’d bought on an admittedly spontaneous whim and was as grateful for now as she’d been for the clean sheets. Luke’s gaze went from hers to the small package in her hand, and a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth.

“Now’s the time when we assure each other we don’t do this a lot,” Celia told him as she tore the wrapping.

Luke’s breath hissed between his teeth, and his tongue caught there too. “I don’t do this a lot.”

“Me neither,” Celia breathed as she eased the condom down his length.

She moved to slide him inside her before he spoke again, and after that neither of them seemed quite capable of finding more words. She didn’t always love being on top because the angle could sometimes rub her in the wrong places, but tonight it worked just fine. Just as Luke had found the perfect rhythm for her downstairs, Celia found what worked just right now. They moved together, no fumbling, nothing awkward or out of place. It was one of those truly first-rate, effortless fucks, rare like a blue moon, and Celia savored every second of pleasure Luke’s body gave hers.

And he worked it, those nice white teeth denting his bottom lip as his brow furrowed. He’d let go of the headboard so he could slide a hand between them, his knuckles giving her clit the best and most beautiful pressure every time she slid all the way down his cock. She was going to come again, and it was sweet, it was unexpected and delightful, it was…

“Fucking gorgeous,” Celia gasped as the first wave washed over her.

Luke groaned, his last couple thrusts ragged, but that only made them better. His cock nudged her at a different angle in the last moment, sending another wave of pleasure through her and just as perfectly as everything else about this night had been, Celia collapsed onto his chest with a happy, sated sigh.

When she woke in the morning, she found he’d left a flower in the dent his head had made on her pillow. She recognized it as one of the daisies from her half-assed garden out back. She found another on the dining room table. A third by the front door, and when, hoping against hope she opened the front door, a final flower rested on her front porch.

But Luke himself was gone.

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So, here’s the thing — WE LOVE JASON MANNS. We love him like zombies love brains. We love him like peanut butter loves sticking to the roof of your mouth. Going to see Jason Manns in concert is like catching a ride on the back of a unicorn with rainbows and glitter shooting out of its orifices. And it’s not just because of the music. It’s the whole experience of the road trip with friends. The four of us are writers and have been friends for years, so these trips are more than just a night out — they are an all-inclusive FRIEND BONDING EXPERIENCE. We were going to make a sign to hold up, but someone (*coughcoughmegancoughcough* was too lame and forgot.)

But of course, the music’s good too, and Jason is amazing to hear live. In addition to this, he is a very nice man, and he drinks my favoritest alcoholic beverage, which we all know is Jameson. He is also very tall. Anyone who follows my blog or pays attention to my playlists knows I think he’s fantastic and that you should all go and purchase his music, cd’s t-shirts, whatever else it is that he sells, because I want him to be able to find the East Coast worth visiting as often as he can. This is purely selfish. I want more live Jason Manns friend-bonding experiences. I want more road trips. I want more Jameson. I’m greedy, what can I say?

So, in case you’re new to my blog, please take a listen to Jason’s music via these Youtube videos, then go to his site and buy his music! Or iTunes, wherever it’s sold. Please buy it, don’t download it illegally from a file-sharing site. Every time you do that, you not only kill a unicorn, but it makes you a giant kind of oozing pustule. Don’t download illegally!

Also, this. See what a giver he is? See how he wanted to share that Jameson with me? Oh, if only I didn’t have to drive home.