Some of my friends swear that the only good way to celebrate Valentine’s Day is to go out to dinner.

Um, no! I’ve been there, folks. Done that. Got the rubber meal to prove it. For all that is holy, do NOT go to a fancy restaurant on Valentine’s night. Here are my reasons:

1. They’re overbooked. Your party won’t be seated on time, no matter how far in advance you got reservations. Plan on waiting an extra 30 minutes to an hour in the bar, on your feet, and ladies, this means in those impossibly high heels you bought to wear and haven’t yet broken in.

2. They’re understaffed. A line cook is out maybe. Or a sous chef. Quite possibly the only knowledgeable wine steward. If you’re really lucky, not only will all three be out with the flu that night, but two waitresses and the dishwasher will be out, too. Enjoy your water, because that’s it for quite some time.

3. By the time your waiter has finally arrived to take your order, the two couples you and your sweetie are with are squabbling, and you’ve forgotten and/or changed your mind as to what you want to order. Instead of ordering wine, because none of you can agree on red or white, a desperate chant goes up for “martinis, and keep ‘em coming”.

4. Your meal has arrived, your party is sloshed, and suddenly no one wants what they ordered. Bickering continues as meals get swapped across the table. Food gets spilled, waiters get testy.

5. The staff, in order to make you all feel better, give you the same dessert they’ve given every other table in the place – tiramisu that looks like it’s been attacked by kittens. You eat it anyway, needing something besides bread and cold eggplant parmesan in your stomach.

6. You all stumble out of the quieting restaurant, each party sure that they paid more than their fair share. The women all hate the men; the men all hate each other. A fistfight breaks out, and is quickly quelled because one of the women starts vomiting.

7. The most romantic night of the year ends up with your honey passed out on the couch and you tearfully sitting in the shower, wondering how to explain that traffic ticket you earned.

So, trust me. Stay home, make an easy yet delicious dinner for two, follow up with a sinful dessert, and include wine or champagne or sparkling cider along with candlelight and beautiful, romantic music. Not only will you enjoy yourself and have sex that night, but you will still be friends with the other two couples in the morning. What’s not to like?

~~

In other news, Book 2 of the Caine Brothers series is turned in to my editor and I’m hard at work on Book 3. Survive Valentine’s Day, folks!

Are you a fan or foe of Valentine’s Day?

Some people love the romance, no matter how crass and commercial. So what if your sweetie buys a red heart-shaped box of chocolates at the corner drugstore enroute home after work on the 14th? Other people flee any attempts to guilt them into buying or gushing over flowers, chocolates, romantic dinners and all the other Valentine’s Day accoutrements.

As for me, I’m single-handedly trying to keep the US post office in business with the quantity of cards and gifts I mail. DH and I are total opposites in our approach to Valentine’s Day as in so much else, but, I’m happy to admit, he’s learning.

As we get close to Valentine’s Day, I was surprised to realize I’ve never written a story with this romantic holiday as a major theme. But there’s a key scene in Goddess Goodies that takes place on Valentine’s Day. Diana, who’s just made a painful exit from a long marriage, has a date with sexy Ben for dinner at a posh restaurant. She’s so excited—and so very nervous. Here’s an excerpt to show what happens:

 From Goddess Goodies by Mardi Ballou:

——————————————————————————————–

I’d just put on the last of my makeup when the doorbell rang.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. Ben’s eyes widened. I was feasting my eyes on how good he looked when we came into each other’s arms. Ben’s lips feathered mine with a warm greeting, and then his tongue began the gentlest of explorations. He tasted like peppermint and pine, spice and citrus. I both relaxed and enter a heightened state.

We broke the kiss and stepped apart. We hadn’t yet said a single word to each other. I smiled. “You look great, Diana,” he said.

“You don’t look so bad yourself. Happy Valentine’s Day! Ben, thank you so much for the beautiful roses.”

“My pleasure.”

“How about a drink before we go?” I asked.

“I’d say yes, but if we stay here any longer, I may be tempted to forget about our dinner reservations.”

The guy was certainly great for my ego. Trying to sound cool and sophisticated, I told him we should head off to the restaurant.

For that night, Ben had chosen La Fleche d’Or, a new up-and-coming country French restaurant. San Francisco had a special glow. Our city always felt romance friendly, but tonight every street seemed part of a giant Valentine greeting. Even the traffic flowed.

La Fleche d’Or, known for its decor as well as its food, was decked out in lights and flowers. Leaving his car for valet parking, Ben escorted me into the bar, decorated in stone and the colors of Provence. We had just a short wait for seating. The host, Etienne, invited us to nibble on rounds of bread and various pâtés, each delicious. We toasted each other with pink champagne.

We’d just finished a spirited debate over which pâté we preferred when Etienne arrived to escort us to our table. Though there was quite a crowd, the large room provided an atmosphere of intimacy—as if Ben and I were the only two people there.

The Provence theme characterized the decor. “This is gorgeous,” I said to Ben.

We toasted each other. Delicious as the drinks were and I expected the food to be, I decided not to indulge too much in either. I wanted my senses clear.

Our server, a handsome young man named Pierre, gave menu advice. Having already enjoyed the pâté and bread, we opted to begin with salads. Leaves of endive drizzled with balsamic vinegar and some other lovely condiment, mixed with pears, hazelnuts and goat cheese.

For our entrees, Ben went with lamb, I for duck with sour cherries. We shared our entrees, each once again convinced of having ordered the most delicious.

And then we decided to have dessert at home.

The drive back to my place felt like a dream. We’d already decided Ben was going to come in with me, so there’d be no fumbling invitations for a nightcap. We both knew what was going to happen, which didn’t quiet the whirlpool in my lower belly.

I stayed with Ben while he parked. And then we walked back to my place, his arm gently around my waist. Neither of us said a word.

“Thank you for inviting me back.” Ben sounded very formal when we got to the door.

“Thank you for a wonderful dinner.” I took the same formal tone. “I hope I have a dessert worthy of the dinner.” I unlocked the door and led the way in.

Ben followed me in. “I’m sure you do.”

I chuckled. “I suppose the group would drum me out of Goddess Goodies if I didn’t,” I said, feeling a bit nervous now.

“That’ll never happen.”

I hung up our coats. “What can I get you? Coffee? Ice cream and cake? Ice cream without cake? I have chocolate and vanilla—ice cream, that is. You could also have cake without ice cream—”

He grinned as I continued to babble.

“Right now I’d like nothing better than a kiss. And I don’t mean the chocolate kind.”

Now that the moment was actually here, I felt nervous. And I thought about everything I’d eaten for dinner. I knew there was garlic in the pâté and in the duck. I probably reeked from it.

What was the etiquette of excusing myself and brushing my teeth? It felt like forever since my dating days, but I was sure they couldn’t have been this complicated.

Was I just complicating everything because I’d gotten so much older—and been burned?

Ben drew me over to the couch and we both sat down. Then he rubbed my neck and the tight spot between my shoulders. I felt like I’d been squeaking fast and high, just as if I’d swallowed a bunch of helium. As Ben massaged, I both relaxed and began to slow down. And tensed up.

He had wonderful hands. I closed my eyes and leaned into him. He nuzzled my neck and whispered softly, “Nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want. Only what you want, when you want, I promise.”

Oh, so Ben was going to insist on my being an adult, taking responsibility for what was going to happen.

——————————————————————————————–

To find out more about what Diana and Ben experience, please check out Goddess Goodies, available from EC Blush,  Ellora’s Cave. Please also visit my website http://www.MardiBallou.com — and I hope Valentine’s Day brings all you’re hoping for.

–Mardi

That’s what I’ve been up to lately. For many years now, I’ve worked outside the home. I word it that way because now that I write full-time, I work at home. Anyway, I’ve worked many different schedules and many different places. At one point I was working at a university all day and going to college most of the night. I had NO time for yard work.

Now that I’m here all the time and looking out my window often, I was starting to freak out. The neat little yard that used to be my very own looked like Tarzan had taken over.

I find myself (like a dork) staring down a prickly vine and yelling, “You shall not pass!”

For those who don’t know, I live in the woods. I like it that way. Except it’s been a very long time since I had time to maintain my yards. My roses look great. In fact, they’re the only things I had the time to maintain. No worries about grass getting overgrown. It’s a struggle here to get it to grow in the first place. So, my yard has developed bald spots. Ha. Ha. Ha.

My husband still works 12 hour shifts, so I’m doing this (for the most part) on my own. My dad visits from time to time with his chain saw. Until I began this undertaking, I didn’t realize how much I’d forgotten about landscaping. Or how much I really love my axe.

Another thing I was determined to find more time for was getting into better shape. I’d started a fairly strenuous routine near the end of last year, but had no time to maintain it. No worries there anymore. Lifting logs (from fallen trees) and carrying them several yards to the burn pile has given me incredible muscle tone. Not to mention, pulling weeds (all that bending and lifting) and raking, is giving my back definition like aerobics never could.

Amongst all this, I’ve released another book on my own. Diary of an Incubus is my second self-publishing venture and so far, it’s going great. Plus, I’ve signed a new contract with Ellora’s Cave for a book called, Constant Cravings. I just got the cover art for that one and I’m in love. No release date yet for Constant Cravings, but I’ll keep you all posted.

Man, I’m tired. LOL

Purchase Link: http://www.amazon.com/Diary-of-an-Incubus-ebook/dp/B0071PNY96/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_5

Coming Soon to Ellora's Cave

Not in my stories lately, that’s for sure. Well, okay, there’s some love in them, but for the past month or so I’ve been working almost exclusively on young adult stories. Those have a smidgen of romance, but not nearly as much as my romances do. And, of course, no sex. (Note that I have nothing against sex in young adult novels, as long as it isn’t a high heat level; I just prefer not to put much of it in my own books.)

I really haven’t been feeling the romance lately. I’m plotting a couple of new novellas that I plan to start writing soon, but for the most part my brain isn’t cooperating with the idea of anything romantic.

Which is kind of unfortunate, with Valentine’s Day a week from today…

The one romance I have worked on lately, one I had a lot of fun with, is a Valentine’s story for MLR Press. It’s a sweet M/M romance and introduces two characters whom I think we’ll be seeing more of because they’re so much fun to write. Braden Porter grew up in the rural town of Anglesey, Maine, affectionately known to the population as “East Armpit” in honor of the smell from the paper mill in the next town. As an adult, Braden didn’t see the need to leave town, where he works as a tow truck driver and hides the fact that he’s gay.

Braden doesn’t plan to find Mr. Right in his hometown; as far as he knows, he’s the only gay guy there. When someone starts sneaking chocolate kisses into the cab of Braden’s tow truck, he figures it has to be either a joke or a woman. In his fantasies, it would be Vince Gutierrez, a local mechanic whom Braden’s been lusting after for months, but fantasies don’t come true.

Or do they?

I grew up in Maine, went to college in a town like Anglesey, and have lived in other, similar towns, where I’ve known people like Braden and the other characters who appear in the story. Creating the town and the characters was incredibly fun, and I love Braden’s voice. (Admittedly, I may be a bit biased.) I’m planning at least one more story with Braden and Vince–and I can guarantee the next one won’t be so sweet.

The story, “A Little Kiss” will be released on Valentine’s Day from MLR Press, along with Valentine’s stories from several awesome authors including fellow FABber Lex Valentine.

I was watching a Japanese movie last night, and the hero’s father told him a story about how in the old age, before written word was used for communication, people used to send rocks to each other to convey their thoughts, emotions, etc. A smooth rock would mean ‘I love you’, a bumpy one ‘I’m worried about you’ and so on. I have no idea if this is true or not, but it got me thinking. How can a surface tell a person so much? And I guess that was one of the reasons people invented writing. They weren’t satisfied.

We say that actions speak louder than words (thus as writers we always try to have our characters show rather than tell) yet I’m not sure if this is 100% accurate. Words are very powerful. They can hurt as much as a fist. They can heal as much as a hug. They can distort the truth, something a good number of lawyers’ TV shows have pointed out. We sometimes forget these facts and treat them as inconsequential.

They’re just words.

Well, they’re not. So think twice the next time you skip on saying good morning to your neighbor. It’s just two words and it could mean the world to them.

I don’t just watch television shows. I have a tendency to glom onto a particular show and watch it like crazy. I used to do this with scripted TV, but in the past few years it’s been nonfiction shows. Two of my favorites are Mythbusters and anything involving true crime. In the past year I’ve also started watching such shows as Pawn Stars, about a Las Vegas pawnshop, and American Pickers (which features these two guys who travel around the US buying junk to sell).

My latest obsession is kind of weird, though, even for me. The other day I stumbled onto a cooking show called Chopped, in which four chefs vie for a $10,000 prize by cooking a three-course meal, with one of them being eliminated (or “chopped”) each round. Now I am by no means a chef. I don’t particularly like cooking. I tend to prefer my food simple, and not in tiny, beautifully arranged portions like they make in the show. So why am I watching it so much? I’m not sure. There’s the element of competition, which is interesting to see. And then there is the basket of truly odd ingredients each chef is given before every course. Last night they had to make dessert using pasta, basil, roma tomatoes, and white chocolate! That sounded pretty repulsive to me, but the two remaining chefs got really creative with it.

Maybe the element of creativity is what I like so much about the show. Just like authors do, chefs take different elements and try to blend them into something beautiful and enjoyable. Perhaps my recent obsession with Chopped isn’t so strange after all.

And who knows? I just might get some story inspiration from it…

Cassandra Gold
Gay romance with a heart of gold
www.cassandragold.com

This is a question I ask myself a lot in regards to promoting my books and myself as an author. Not so much the “too much”, the “not enough” part. I have very little time for promotion these days. My personal life is very full, so when I do have time to sit at the computer, my first priority is to knuckle out a few words on whatever manuscript is currently demanding my attention. Things like social networking and chatting often have to be put on hold while I go into “internet exile” to get work done.

The most promoting I’ve been doing lately is posting about my new releases on my blog, my website, my Yahoo group, Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. That’s about it. Once in a while, if I see an opportunity to do an interview or if I’m asked to, I will, but not nearly as much as I used to during my first year as a published author when I sought out these opportunities. But I actually feel guilty that I don’t promote more and I wonder, should I take more time to do it?

Promoting your work can be extremely time consuming. Blogs, articles, interviews, chats, social networking…the list is huge for all the different venues an author can promo dance. Sometimes, promoting doesn’t even have to be an official post shouting to the world, “I have a book! Here’s the buy link! Hurry! Go buy it now!” Promoting can be, and is, just being an online presence, because the more people see you, regardless of what you’re chatting about, the more you’re getting your name out there.

I’m always amazed by the number of social network and group sites some authors balance. It’s like they’re everywhere!  And I’m not saying this because it’s a bad thing. If anything, I’m jealous! I think it’s wonderful they’re able to dedicate that much time to promoting and chatting with readers.

Seeing how much some authors do and knowing how little I do, it has me wondering, what’s the happy medium? And also, what kind of promotion do readers really enjoy? If every week an author is posting, “Hey, I’m at this blog! Now I’m at this one! And this one!”, does it get to the point where readers aren’t as interested? Or do readers enjoy getting the see their favorite authors so much? Are authors who make fewer appearances in guest blogs and interviews more likely to get readers to stop by because it’s a rarer opportunity to learn about them? I have no idea to any of these questions, and if someone does, feel welcomed to offer insight!

So even though trying to work your way through the labyrinth of promoting is more than a little confusing, I do have a couple thoughts on it. When it comes down to it, an author has to do what they feel most comfortable with, whether it’s interview, chats, social networking, or anything else. But mostly, you have to do what time will allow you to do. No doubt you want to get the word out on your latest book, but you don’t want to promote your newest book so much that it costs you time for completing your next one. Being a writer is a multifaceted endeavor, so you just have to find that balance of sales and creativity that works best for you and your work.

S.J. Frost

I’m in a rush today since it’s Monday and I don’t typically do well on Mondays. LOL Anyway, I finished a manuscript for a short novella over the weekend. It will be coming out at MLR Press for Valentine’s Day. It’s a little story about stepping out of your comfort zone for a chance at a happily ever after. You can read some more about the story over at Sunlight Sucks today, but here’s the blurb and the cover art for the third party distribution sites like Amazon and ARe.

Kissing Joan Collins

Blurb:

Gay suspense author Logan Moore fell in love with the most perfect gay man ever during his freshman year in college. But his roommate and best friend Chase Courtland never showed an interest in him. Twelve years and a handful of failed relationships later, Logan acknowledges that he still loves Chase. When Chase puts on a designer dress, four-inch heels and a wig and transforms himself into Joan Collins for a Valentine’s Day masquerade party, Logan’s libido rockets out of control. One look at Chase’s perfect ass in the skin tight dress and Logan is ready to drag him off to bed. But can two best friends bridge the gap of a dozen years of denial and build a life together after one amazing night of revelations, confessions and love?

Some unedited snippets for your enjoyment…

The scene that makes me think of chick lit:

Chase stood before a rack of designer dresses giving each one the critical once over. Beside him, Logan’s sister Julia huffed in impatience.

“How hard can this be, Chase?” she barked. “Just pick one!”

He turned and pinned her with his gaze. “It has to be just right, Jules. You know that. How else am I going to get his attention?”

“A cast iron skillet comes to mind,” she muttered darkly.

Logan’s reaction to Chase in the dress:

Never in his life had he found a man in drag attractive, but he’d give his left arm — he needed the right one to write and jack off — to fuck Chase while he wore that dress and heels.

Size matters:

Chase groaned and reached down to take both their cocks in his hand, stroking them together. “You’re so big. I love it.”

Logan laughed out loud, joy making him giddy. “Big there or big in general?”

On being possessive:

Chase scooped up a handful of lather and wrapped his arms around Logan, his fingers tracking the soap through the crease of Logan’s ass. “Did you feel big and clumsy last night?” he asked archly.

Logan’s heart raced as Chase’s fingers brushed his hole. He shook his head in answer to Chase’s question. “No. I felt empowered. Maybe it was the dress, but suddenly, I didn’t feel as if you were out of my league anymore. I felt…primal.”

“Good. I did too. If you had been a tree, I would have peed on you.” Chase kissed Logan’s collarbone, his tongue snaking out to lick the skin.

Fashion advice:

Logan’s gaze tracked the movement of Chase’s hand as he pulled the dress up, showing off stockings and a black lace garter belt. He sucked in a breath as his heart stuttered, his entire being riveted on the bulge in the black satin thong Chase wore.

“That’s gonna spoil the line of the dress,” he muttered as his stare caused Chase’s cock to swell.

What’s “in” in romance reading:

Chase turned his back toward Logan and leaned over the sink, patting the long dark hair of his wig. “How did things go with your editor?”

Sidling up behind Chase, Logan leaned against the hard body encased in feminine clothing. He nipped the side of Chase’s neck. “I’m her newest romance author. Kris says gay romance is in again. ‘Dick Lit’ she called it. Got a contract for the completed manuscript and three more to follow. There’s a hefty advance now sitting in our joint bank account.”

And, there you have it! Look for Kissing Joan Collins around Valentine’s Day.  Happy Monday!

I don’t actually watch much, and when I do, I’m rather selective.  Poor hubby – always trying to find porn with a plot.  Because if I’m going to watch it, I generally like to have a story behind it.  An attempt at acting.  Some sort of production budget.  Something to string the sex scenes together.  And oh, please, they have to look like they’re enjoying themselves.  Since I write gay erotic romance, I’ll occasionally stray (on my own, of course) to gay porn, and mostly the same parameters apply.

The specific point of this post is the most recent movie hubby found.  It was a sci-fi, which was cool.  I like sci-fi.  It started with six screens of introductory text, like Star Wars.  Six screens.  Six.  How much back story does a porn flick require?!?  Then, the first scene was some sort of futuristic battle scene… where all the participants were completely covered in armor to the point I couldn’t even tell which were men and which were women.  Um… guess what?  It’s PORN.  I may be picky but even in a futuristic setting, I’d be fine if they dressed their military in strappy bits of nothing, armed with laser pistols.  Honestly, it was so weird.  Completely unexpected.  And I discovered that maybe there can be too much plot.

But then, I guess that’s why there’s erotic romance (and perhaps why I write it).  Perfect blend of sex and story

KC Burn

I came across this quote the other day, and it really resonated with me:

 ”I tried, not always successfully, to start each day with some discrete goal I wanted to accomplish: write 200 words, or get through a certain amount of research, or conduct two interviews, or whatever. If I set out to spend a day ‘writing’, that would be so overwhelming I’d end up just farting around online all day instead of starting the climb the mountain.” – Seth Mnookin

I admit it, I’m a huge fan of setting goals. I make a list of 100 things I want to accomplish at the beginning of every year, and I cross them off the list as I go. That’s right – one hundred. Never let it be said I’m not ambitious. I have goals for everything: writing (of course), other hobbies, social interactions, you name it. Usually, I’m motivated by those goals. Looking at my list spurs me on and makes me want to cross off just one more item.

And then there are the types of goals that make me freeze in my tracks. For example, like the author of the quote above, I set a goal to write a certain number of words every morning, before I did anything else. You know how long that lasted? Oh, about a day. I’ve tried numerous times. It just doesn’t work. First thing in the morning, I want to check my email, write in my journal, and drink my first cup of coffee. Then I want to work out and shower. And only after that, I’m ready to get to work.

What I realized is that this goal I’d set for myself went against everything that made me a happy, productive author. So today, I’d like you to think about your own goals, and your New Year’s Resolutions, if you set any of those. Are your goals directly opposed to your ideal way of working? Are you a night owl trying to make the switch to writing during the day, because you think that’s what you should be doing? Did you set a goal to write the great American literary novel when you love reading erotic short stories?

Drop me a note in the comments section. I’d love to hear whether the goals you’ve set continue to inspire you as we move into the second month of the year.

Roxana Leventis spends her evenings blindfolded and strapped into a harness. As living art, she’s appreciated with all the senses. That means being touched, fondled and caressed in the most intimate ways.

Donovan Armstrong thinks his latest assignment is just another security gig, guarding priceless paintings. Boring stuff for a wolf shifter, but he plans to return home to Canada as soon as he finds a suitable mate, the kind of shifter female who’ll stun his pack with her perfection. After four years of searching, however, his temporary stay in New York is starting to look pretty damn permanent.

Until one whiff of Roxi’s scent awakens his dormant inner wolf. Taking her as his mate is unthinkable. She’s not a shifter, and her delicate human body is much too fragile to withstand his animal urges. Still…neither man nor beast can ignore the way she stirs their blood.

Donovan’s job is simple—protect Roxi from overzealous gallery visitors. But who’s going to protect her from him?

A Stranger’s Touch is now available at Ellora’s Cave.

Award-winning author Lacey Savage loves to write about her dreams — or more specifically, she loves to breathe life into her steamy fantasies (and she’s got plenty!). She pens erotic tales of true love and mythical destiny, peopled with strong alpha heroes and feisty heroines. A hopeless romantic, Lacey loves writing about the intimate, sensual side of relationships. She currently resides in Ottawa, Canada, with her mischievous husband and their loving cat. You can learn more about Lacey by visiting her website at www.laceysavage.com, by following her on Twitter, friending her on Facebook, or joining the Yahoo Group she shares with fellow authors Beth Kery and Fiona Jayde.