Snippet Sunday

From the MS I'm sending to Dreamspinner tomorrow! Called Drive Your Truck.

Woo

Panting, Walt rested, letting his head fall back against Garrison’s shoulder. “Christ, I needed that.”

“Oh, yeah.” Garrison kissed the place where Walt’s neck and shoulder joined. “That rocked. Thanks.”

“Yeah. No problem.” He chuckled, his muscles shaking when he pushed up, letting Garrison’s cock slide free of his hole. “We, uh, ought to get back to the wake, huh?”

“I guess we should.” Garrison sighed. “We ought to hang that chandelier for your sister.”

“We should.” Walt crawled off the bed, not wanting to look Garrison in the eye. This was the awkward part, the after hook-up, not knowing where to look part.

“Hey,” Garrison said, standing and grabbing his shoulder, spinning him around as neatly as one of those dancers from that TV show. Garrison pulled him close, hugging him tight for a long, long moment. “Thank you.”

The move eased something in Walt’s chest, and he hugged back, letting Garrison know he was okay. “You’re welcome, man. Any time.”

The strange thing was it wasn’t just a platitude.

Walt meant it.

Copyright 2014 Julia Talbot

My craziest ideas

werecrocodiles

were bassets

a vampire who trains guide dogs

ghost rider cowboys

BDSM-loving cowboy

A het story with a human woman and an alien

a fire elemental and a hit man

m/m/m with native American shifters. Coyote, raven, turtle

a menswear designer and a vampire male supermodel

Which one of these have I actually written?

Tell me and get a chance at a 10.00 Torquere GC

XXOO

Julia

Throwback Tuesday

Today I want to spread the love for Tomb of the God King. Click here to link!

This one is an odd one for me, but it's the one book all the authors I know have read. You know, when you're sitting around at cons introducing yourself and they say, hey, I know you. You did that Tomb book. I love that it has a custom, hand drawn cover, that it's first person, and that it's my homage to Lovecraft and H Rider Haggard (King Solomon's Mines). I love penny dreadfuls and Weird Tales. And first person? That shit is tough, y'all. Only knowing what one character knows writing the whole novel! And Christian isn't the most reliable witness, I'm telling you.

Here's the blurb

When Christian arrives in Egypt as the man Friday to an eccentric American, he's hoping to get his chance to make history and establish his name in archaeology. What he doesn't count on is meeting brash hired gun, Eric Lawless, and falling into an uneasy partnership and ultimately love.

He's not ready for what their digging exposes either, leading him, and Eric, into a dangerous game of cat and mouse, where old spirits and older gods lead them on a dance of deception and terror deep in the tombs of the Valley of the Kings.

Here's that amazing lurid cover

And here's a wee bit to get you going!

“I think it may be a copy.” Wavering, to be sure, but there was something about the map that made me think it had been real at one time.

“So, where is it?”

“Somewhere in the West Valley?”

His brow furrowed even more deeply. “I thought only a few folks was buried in the West Valley.”

“Well, it’s true that most tombs lay in the East Valley, certainly. But this is Egypt. I never rule anything out.”

“Never?”

Something in his tone alerted me, and I looked up just in time to see his face blot out the light in the room when he bent and put his lips to mine.

Startled, I jumped back, my hand going to my mouth. “What are you about?”

“I thought that was obvious,” he replied, advancing.

“But this is, I mean, we have the map to decipher, and really, it’s not a good idea.”

“Why not? I promise, you can leave right after and pretend to be virtuous and all.”

“You self-righteous bastard, I left last night because I knew it was unwise, what we did. I have never claimed false virtue.” Leaving the map on the small bedside table I stalked to him and put a hand to the middle of his chest, shoving him hard.

“No? You sure acted like you had the moral high ground this morning, with my boss.” His gray eyes went dark, storms rolling in them. “He reamed me but good.”

“Well, you deserved it. You were a churl this morning.” I poked him in the chest again. “That was why I was so upset.”

“Well, then,” he said, putting his hands on my arms to pull me closer. “Let me apologize.”

His kiss bruised me, pressing my lips back against my teeth. The sting had me gasping, had me pressing forward to get more, my arms going up about his neck. I am not good at self-denial, no, indeed.

We kissed harder and harder, his tongue invading my mouth to taste me, rubbing against my tongue in the most suggestive manner. It had my prick hardening, my hips moving in a rhythm as old as time, already too aroused to last long.

“Oh, Chrissy, you’re something else.”

“Stop calling me that ridiculous name.”

He grinned wildly, kissing me again, backing me toward the bedstead. The sense of unreality was huge; so was the sense of déjà vu. He had herded me about last night like a sheepdog with a lamb.

Determined to take a more active role, I pushed him about and shoved him down on the bed. The studs on his shirt gave way easily, one of them dropping to the floor and rolling off under the bed. The tiny ping distracted me just enough that he could grab my bottom and pull me up against him, his teeth sharp and hard at my throat.

“Stop. I want to get these off.” Tugging at his shirt, I managed to get the thin linen off his shoulders, baring his not-inconsiderable charms. The planes of his chest fascinated me, and I traced them with my fingers, the difference between rough hair and soft skin utterly lovely. His nipples stood in hard little points, stiff and hot.

I touched those little bits of flesh, rubbing my thumbs over them and smiling when he gasped for me. “Yes. Oh, that’s lovely.”

“Decided to invest fully tonight, did you?”

“I invested full last night as long as we still…well.”

“Uh-huh.”

If he did not shut it quickly, he would make me angry, so I kissed him again, closing my eyes and sinking into him. The silence broke with the beating of my heart, and with his moan, shockingly deep in the sudden quiet.

I touched him wherever I could, and he struggled with my clothing. I fear I was no help, twisting and turning to taste more of him, all of him.

Finally he pinned me down with one hand, using the other to strip me nude, until I lay there exposed to him, a little shocked at the feel of it. I had not his breadth of chest, or length of leg, but I represented well, with muscles built through years of digging.

Thanks for reading! Look for it on ARE and Amazon, too!

XXOO

Julia

Music and the Muse- A Guest Post from BA Tortuga

Hey y’all!

My Girl was willing to let me take over her blog today to talk about my book coming out from Dreamspinner Press. It’s called Terms of Release, and I’m so proud of it I could bust.

I know a lot of y’all know I make playlists. Terms of Release was actually inspired by a Brantley Gilbert song called Modern Day Prodigal Son. Mouse over the title for link to lyrics.

The song was Sage to me, my poor boy who got in over his head and paid for it dearly. It’s not him now, but it was then. He left home, wild and crazy and young and so in love, and it did him dirty. The song works. That and Tim McGraw’s Number 37405.

I would be writing away, listening to those songs and sobbing, and Julia would look at me and roll her eyes. Not kidding.

It took a long time for me to find a song for Sage’s new lover Win. I finally settled on Bruises by Pat Monahan and Ashley Monroe. If there’s anyone who can relate to living in a small town that’s keeping him down, to meeting someone he barely remembers from high school and not wanting to let them go again, it’s Win.

Music is a huge part of writing for me. Hell, if I couldn’t be a romance writer, I’d go to Nashville and write songs. Two different skills, which is why it’s tough to do both at the same time. I’m not real well-suited to Nashville anyway, and God knows I’ve done Austin, which is my other music option. I reckon I’ll stick to romances in New Mexico, and listening to songs I swear people tailor-wrote for my boys.

Here's the blurb:

They say a man can always come home. So after doing hard time, Sage Redding heads to his family’s northeast Texas ranch to help his ailing daddy with the cutting horses.

Adam (Win) Winchester is a county deputy and the cousin of one of the men killed in the incident that sent Sage to prison for almost a decade. While Win's uncles, Jim and Teddy, are determined to make Sage and the entire Redding family pay for their loss, Win just figures Sage has paid his dues and maybe needs a friend. Maybe he needs more than a friend. In fact, Win’s counting on it.

No one’s denying Sage is an ex-con who went to prison for manslaughter. Regardless of the love he has for his father, he’s returned knowing things will likely go badly for him. Maybe a man can always come home, but he may not be able to stay.

Terms of Release is available for pre-order here.

The link won’t change when it’s for sale for sale tomorrow, so go forth and get it!

I hope y’all love this book as much as I do, and I welcome reader comments at batortuga at gmail.com

Much love, y’all

BA Tortuga www.batortuga.com

TGIF

Get a grip folks. It's almost the weekend.

XXOO

Julia

Image from Shutterstock

weird things about Julia

I thought you guys might occasionally like to know weird facts about me

Today I will tell you deep, dark secrets.

I love a lot of the new country music out there, but I miss the fiddle. I love country fiddle, and no one has a fiddle it their band anymore. Sad Julia.

I almost always make a typo on "he's" and make it "He'd". I have to edit myself every time.

I can't walk in a straight line when I'm sober. When I'm drunk, I am solid as a rock.

I dislike spiders. A lot. I killed one last night and felt very very brave

I always wanted to be an equestrian. I know how to ride, but I wanted to be a graceful show jumper. I, uh, am not graceful.

My favorite romance writer was supposed to be at RT last year and she was a no show. I have not re-read one of her books since.

I want someone to make a gluten free pizza that tastes like Pizza Hut

I love to get emails and comments and stuff. I do! I'm socially inept but eager!

I need to go take a nap. Now

More later!

XXOO

Jullia

Snippet sunday for Sean Michael

crimson jumping spatula Kenji is briefly in my upcoming release from TQ called Dream Dice

Crimson drops of dye and water were jumping on the drum while Kenji beat it with the spatula. He had lost his drumsticks somewhere in the move, and he couldn't afford new ones right now. Too bad he'd spent all his money on moving to a new apartment since his roomie Thayer had disappeared. A missing persons, a police investigation and a near arrest later, he had decided to move on. To the beach. Now he had a patio with a drum kit and a sheet he was painting with the dye so he could hang it as a curtain.

If he ever saw Thayer again, he was gonna punch the man in the face harder than any taiko drum he'd ever struck.

XXOO

Julia

My process blog hop

Super thanks to Kiernan Kelly for getting me involved in this blog hop! She always inspires me. http://caferisque.blogspot.com She’s funny and fun to talk to and always has the best ideas.

What am I working on?

Right now I’m working on a geek boy who buys magic dice at a convention and ends up with a barbarian, a menage mmf with a magic book releasing a trapped demon, and a weretiger and wereleopard for Full Moon Dating, a series I write for Torquere Press. I love my Full Moon Dating boys, but the best part for me of that series is the folks who own the business. Harve and Stone are hot for each other, and Adelia wants to watch. Nothing seems to go right for them, though.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I’ve been told a lot that I write everyday dudes, even when they’re paranormals. That my guys are guys and my girls are just everyday girls, and that I like people. It shows, I think. I eavesdrop a lot, and try to have my characters facing what all people face in the great scheme of things. Even an all-powerful vampire can be less than confident when they’re in love.

Why do I write what I do?

I have always been a romance fan. I started reading in my teens, when authors like Nora Roberts were still writing for Silhouette and Harlequin. I loved the whole idea of the genre, of giving romance readers a safe place to fantasize. Then I discovered erotic romance, and m/m, and all bets were off. I was off and running and loving every minute of it. The last ten years or so my mission is to prove that love is love, no matter the genders or sexuality involved.

How does your writing process work?

Oh, I would love to say I’m a planner. I am more so than I used to be, but in general I still say, hey, what if this guy did X and this one did Y and this girl said oooh and this one said no way and—

Pantser. I admit it. I have gotten far better at re-writes, though. Sometimes an editor will say, you need to deepen the emotion and I go, huh? But that just proves I have the emotional depth of a teaspoon. Thankfully, I have friends and family who can read editor comments and say, she means you need more oomph. The big problem with re-writes is how long it takes to get an edit after I finish a story. Trust me, six months later, I have forgotten.

What was the question?

So. Hugs to Kiernan for letting me ramble. I tag JS Wayne, who needs to get me a blog link!

XXOO

Julia www.juliatalbot.com

Throwback Thursday- NSFW

Hey y'all

I wanted to feature an older story today, one I love from start to finish.

The chronological first tale in the Bloodrose series, An Itch to Scratch is about Deke, a werewolf with a real jones for feeding vampires. He decides to offer himself for auction at an exclusive club called the Bloodrose to pay for a membership there. A vamp named Kasey thinks Deke might be just what he needs, and sexy hotness ensues.

Here's a wee excerpt!

“Hey,” the man rumbled, his voice like coffin lids banging in a deep, deep tomb. “I’m Jonas. I’m here to explain the process while Cady goes to town on your hairy ass.”

“No waxing,” Deke protested automatically, wanting that to be very clear.

Cady laughed, the sound as light and airy as Jonas’ voice was dense and heavy. “No waxing. No manscaping, even, since you don’t have a unibrow.”

That had his cheeks flushing. “I plucked it.”

“Go you. Jonas?”

“Right. Go for it, Cady.”

The kid started pulling at his clothes, but Deke could hardly pay attention to that when Jonas started rattling off instructions. “You’ll be taken to the auction chamber in a robe. The room is soundproof and the areas beyond it are dark to protect the bidders’ privacy. For your protection, they can’t touch you, talk to you, or ask you to do anything.”

“Ow!” Deke glared at Cady, who had roughly shoved his legs closed to get his jeans down and off. “A robe.”

“Yes. Once you’re in the chamber, you’re to remove the robe and hand it through to Cady, who will keep it for you until the auction is over.”

“Okay, then what?” He held his arms up when Cady insisted, his shirt going flying.

“Then you make sure you give a good twenty seconds to each panel of the room, which are viewing windows. Count it off in your head. After that, you’re welcome to just stand there, or really ham it up.”

Oink, oink. No way was he going to flex and shake his ass for a bunch of strangers. “Will it disappoint them if I just stand there?”

“Nah,” Cady said, patting his ass in a friendly way. “There’s no way you’ll disappoint with what you’re packing, stud.”

Jesus. The whole thing had started to take on a real sense of unreality. His nipples were tight, though, and his cock was growing, so it was hard to deny how this was turning him on.

Jonas’ nostrils flared, and the man licked his pretty lips, eyes glowing a little in the soft light. “You’ll do fine. The bidding can last anywhere from five minutes to an hour. Depends on who wants you and how bad.”

A wet washcloth slapped against his belly, Cady working it up across his torso. Fuck, that felt clammy.

“And after the auction?” Deke laughed sharply, Cady’s touch under his arms tickling horribly.

“You’ll get to meet your new mentor in a private, but monitored, setting, just to make sure everyone is getting along. Jonny will be watching your meet personally.”

“Too bad,” Cady murmured, running the wet cloth over Deke’s privates. “Jonas and I could do a good job watching you, and enjoy it, too. Should I use any enhancements, Jonas?”

“Enhancements?” That sounded ominous.

Jonas smiled, showing a lot of teeth. “Nipple clamps, plugs, cock rings. Up to you, really, but sometimes it helps raise the price.”

His cock jumped happily at the idea of a plug. “Yeah? Well, clamps and shit aren’t my thing, but I could go for a plug. Might as well reflect my real tastes, huh?”

“Smart man.” Jonas waved a hand, and Cady bounced, getting a new cloth and cleaning Deke’s ass very thoroughly. “Something big enough to keep in, small enough to be comfortable, huh, Cady?”

“You bet. Okay, into the bath.”

Time it was all said and done, Deke felt like a steamed lobster mixed with a groomed poodle. His skin shone with oil, and even his teeth had been brushed for him. Christ. All the time his cock stayed hard, too, so he couldn’t even say he didn’t like it.

“Now for the plug, huh?” Cady was getting breathless, the front of his faded jeans tenting out.

“Yeah.” Deke gave the kid a squeeze. “You like your job, huh?”

“Well, duh. Why else would I be here? Jonas and I get to play once you’re in the box.”

The box. Yeah, this was sounding more and more stupid all the time. Cady pulled a case out of one of the armoires that lined the wall, showing him a black plug that would fit him perfectly. The kid was a natural.

“How much oil do you like?”

“Not too much. I like the friction.” It sounded like he was saying, ‘I like bananas,’ or something. Casual, but for the frogginess of his voice.

“Oh, good.” Cady used a tiny bit of lube on the damned thing before pushing it into Deke’s body with a surprisingly deft touch. “Ta da. All ready, huh?”

A low chime sounded, a red light coming on above the door to the dressing room. “Perfect timing, too,” Jonas said. “The very first thing your new patron will ask is for you to provide a safeword. Think hard about what you want, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” He cleared his throat, his cock suddenly trying to shrink up a bit.

“Don’t be nervous,” Cady said, wrapping him in the robe and reaching between its edges to stroke Deke’s cock back to full hardness. “They’re gonna love you.”

Shit. Deke sure as hell hoped so. There wasn’t any going back now. His ass muscles clenched around the plug, giving his body a little pulse of pleasure.

Looked like it was time to go play.

You can find kasey and Deke here at Torquere Books XXOO

Julia

How do I choose a shifter?

Hey, y'all, I'm Julia, and I'm addicted to were-creatures.

I have a lot of people ask me how I choose what kind of shifter to write about. I started out with wolves, because that was the norm at the time, and because they have this built-in social structure. All these societal rules. They're rarely solitary, and their territories are well-defined. All of that makes it easier to relate them to being human, and to helping them blend in with the largely urban society we've become.

The more I wrote shifters, though, the more I wanted to stretch my boundaries. I've written foxes and bears, tigers and mountain lions. I have to admit, I rarely write non-predator animals. Deer, horses, etc. I just don't see them surviving long. And I have to find the animal aesthetically pleasing. I mean, I could write a were-komodo dragon, but ew. Drool. Toxic drool.

Tigers are loners, really, so when I write them I feel like I need to make them social awkward. Bears amuse me, even as I marvel at their awesome physical powers. So, like in Bar None, the anthology I did with BA Tortuga, Sean Michael and Kiernan Kelly, my bear bartender Seamus is sexy and silly, powerful and clumsy.

I love to study animal behavior and pick weird and wonderful shifters.

comment with your favorite and I'll pick one reader to give an ebook copy of Bar None from Torquere Press

XXOO

Julia

Snippet Sunday

Hey y'all!

Here's a bit from a story I have as a WIP right now!

Evgeny snorted. “You’re adorable.”

“I am. Totally. Flexible, too.”

“Mmmhmm. Sensual. Sexual. Amazing.”

Feng preened. All good words. He appreciated a bit of flattery.

Especially from someone like Ev.

“Making it hard to show you around, barys.”

“We have time.”

“Good.”

He stroked Evgeny’s chest, already feeling extremely possessive, petting the heavy curls covering Ev’s skin.

“I like how you touch me.” Ev hoisted him up like he weighed nothing before rising.

“Well, good. It would suck if you didn’t.”

“True.” They went to the bathroom, where Ev got the water going nice and hot. “But I mean I like you more than anyone I’ve met in a very long time. Very fast.”

“Yeah. It’s weird, huh? You think that those computer guys have something?”

“I think maybe they have more than computers.”

“More than computers?” He tugged Ev into the shower.

“Yes.” Ev shrugged. “We’re cats, hmm? Who knows what else is out there?”

“That’s an unnerving thought.”

“Is it?” Grabbing a bottle of liquid body wash, Ev began soaping him up.

“A little.” He wiggled under the touch, flirting a bit.

Evgeny chuckled, the sound a little raw. They had been busy, so maybe Ev needed a drink. Those lips were a little bruised, just like his, Yum.

Evgeny and Feng will be the next Full Moon Dating. Find Aiden and Ben and Coy and Denver at www.torquerebooks.com

XXOO

J

Shout out to my girl

BA Tortuga has a presale at Dreamspinner. http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=4776 Terms of Release is her best book yet, y'all. Small town Texas at its best.

What rejection does to a writer

I get asked a lot to talk about rejection. Do I still get rejections, how do they affect what I do, etc.

I guess if Stephen King can bare all about his rejection letters in On Writing, I can do it, too. (If you haven't read that one you should, it's awesome.)

Hi, my name is Julia, and loathe rejection letters.

I used to get a lot of them when I first started out. Well, in the great scheme of things, I had what, a 75% acceptance rate, which is pretty good, but it seemed like I got hundreds. I was writing a lot of erotica back then, not romance, and the market was tough to break into pre-ebook.

Nowadays, I mostly write to deadline on pre-contracted stories. So my rejections have become a tiny percent of what I do. I think that's why, when I get one, it jars me way harder than it used to. The latest one was harsh because it was for an erotica shorts anthology, and I got an immediate (literally five minutes after I sent it) rejection saying, nice, well-written story but the sex wasn't erotic and there was no plot.

Blinks. Now, this is where the paranoia rushes in. Have I fallen out of step with what the market wants? Is it me, or is it that damned Fifty Shades of Bad BDSM syndrome? Do I rail at fate, or bash myself in the head for not working hard to make a plotty tale with lots of dripping body parts. Wait, since when did erotica, especially the kind of literary fun I was going for, require a plot? Arrrrrgh. I can go in agonized circles for hours.

See, this is where I prove that all of us writers have a little special snowflake in us, even though I WORK in publishing and know that not all stories fit all anthologies. I've had to be the editor who took a perfectly good story and turned it down because it wasn't what the overall book demanded. But this is MY story, and someone didn't want it. *sob*

Now, how does it affect what I do? In this case it means I slap a nice hot cover on it and self-pub it as a short on Amazon (sometime next week). In other cases, I re-write as the editor suggests and resubmit. And sometimes it means that story will never see the light of day again, because honestly, it just wasn't up to snuff.

In the end, though, I'm still Julia, and I still hate rejection letters.

So, now you know ;)

XXOO

Julia

Snippet Sunday

For Donna, using Suction is on high, Captain

"Suction is on high, Captain."

Thayer stared at Kenji. "That's gross, man."

Kenji shrugged. "It's a Star Wars roleplaying game, man. What else am I supposed to say?"

"Nothing about suction. You're my roommate, man, not my--"

"Sexbot? Android of pleasure?"

"Kenji! Act like that and you'll never get to touch my special dice."

Kenji just snorted. "I never get to do that, anyway. I might as well annoy you."

Kenji and Thayer are not a couple, but they do feature in my WIP (and upcoming release from Torquere) Dream Dice.

XXOO

Julia