Launching Romance into the stars.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Getting back to writing a long romance novel.

How hard is it to go back to writing romance when you've been writing erotic romance?

Not only do I have to retrain my brain to allow more in-depth detail to lengthen the manuscript, but I'm in chapter one and already I find myself struggling with not using grittier words and descriptions.

The need to get my couple together for a little one-on-one is almost impossible to ignore.

This experiment is proving to be more difficult than I imagined.

So, I often get asked what the difference between erotic romance and romance is. There is a fine line, but it's still there. Romance is a story with a couple falling in love. It is driven by a plot, and the main focus is not the sex. Sex is not as descriptive; sometimes it's what we authors call closed door. You are more likely to find euphemisms than blunt words to describe certain body parts.

In erotic romance, the story is also driven by the plot, the main focus continues to be the plot but the sex plays an important role. Sex is not necessarily in every chapter, but it's more descriptive and plentiful. Unlike romance, where the sex takes place usually around page 300, erotic romance might have sex in the first chapter. It usually has a happily ever after, but it can also be a happy for now.

Erotica is driven by the sex and the focus is on the sex, which is frequent and in every chapter. Happily ever afters not necessary, nor are happy for nows, but many authors do write them. And whoa, the words are blunt and to the point. Cock, pussy, cum, fuck. The author holds nothing back. The difference between porn and erotica. One has a plot--the other is just sex to stimulate.

Perhaps the best way is to show you.

Here are three scenes from my books. One is erotica, another erotic romance and the last is from my experimental novel. Tell me which you think is which. Okay, here we go.

Example #1.

"I want to do more than pick you up." He tossed his drink into the trash and slid his hands into her hair, swinging her around and pressing her against a wall. His mouth captured her lips, claiming them with a fierce passion.

Cass’s knees turned to mush. She opened her mouth to him and was lost. All her control slipped away, and she ground against his hard cock, riding him through his jeans like a cat in heat, rubbing her breasts against his muscular chest, sinking into the taste of him, the pure maleness that flipped her every switch. God, she could lick him from head to toe.

He let go of her hair and slipped his hands inside her top, cupping her breasts. Jolts of energy zipped through her, intensifying the need.
Twenty-six fucking years. Twenty-six. Why? Her mind whirled and everything around her faded, until it was just Mike and what his strong hands and mouth were doing to her.

"So beautiful." He sank to his knees before her, slid one of her legs over his shoulder and grabbed her hips, burying his face in her soaked panties. The heat of his breath steamed her through the fabric.

"Mike." Cass fell back against the wall and gasped. Need coiled in her pelvis like a spring, winding her tighter and tighter.

"Let me taste you."

"Yes." The words hissed from her mouth as she attempted to fist his hair. Her clit began to throb again, begging for it, desperate for what he offered.

He pulled the fabric of her panties aside and slipped a finger inside her while he sucked her clit between his teeth.

"Oh, God." Cass whimpered and moved her hips in rhythm with his finger and mouth.

Example #2.

Iia reached down and grabbed an iron candle stick inside a niche in entry wall. Nicodemus watched her fingers curl around the blackened metal from out of the corner of his eye. With only seconds to react, he threw his hand up as she whirled around and swung. His forearm blocked hers and he slid his palm down her arm, hooking her wrist. He slammed her against the wall, pressing his body against hers to hold her in place.

Up and down her chest rose and fell. Anger radiated from her eyes. Each breath she exhaled washed over his lips.

“There’s no reason not be social. I haven’t harmed you.”

“You’ve forced me against my will.”

“To do what? Go home? You were doing that anyway.” Her heart beat in time with his, sending a tightness to his groin. Cherry lips beckoned him to taste, but that was not part of the mission, and not why he’d come. He pried the candle stick from her fingers, keeping his gaze locked on hers. “You don’t need that.”

Example #3. 

"When are you going to cut the small talk and finish what you started? I can’t very well give you your bonus if you aren’t naked." She leaned in. "Get this dress off me," she whispered.

Every muscle in his body tensed and Cori felt like doing a victory dance. She’d found the one man who could understand her scars, the ugly dip in her hip and thigh where skin had been grafted over a bone that had been pulverized and screwed back together like an Erector Set. But even her scars no longer seemed to matter. Never had she needed, wanted, the way she did now.

Since her legs were locked around his waist and freed his arms, he grabbed the hem of her dress and tugged it up her body and over her head, dropping it to the floor. She’d purchased a red lace bra and thong, knowing her normal skivvies wouldn’t do the dress justice, but she’d never anticipated her date might actually see them.

He released her wrists and reached under her bottom, yanking his belt off and tearing his fly open. He didn’t bother to drop his pants or let her down to remove her underwear. His fingers pushed the crotch of her panties to the side and glided into her slick folds. Stroking her inside. Her pussy clamped around him as orgasm threatened.

Did you guess which is which? The romance is pretty easy to pick out, but how about the erotica and erotic romance? Remember, both erotic romance and erotica are explicit, but the difference is one is driven by the sex, the other by the plot. Does one seem more focused on the sex and the other on why the heroine is there? Does one seem to be more than just a romp between the sheets, or against a wall?

Example #1 is erotica, from my short story Carnal Denial.

Example #2 is romance, from my unnamed WIP.

Example #3 is erotic romance, from my novella Cinderella Wore Combat Boots.

Though at times the lines may seem blurred, there is definately a difference between the three and all three can be a challenge to write. So the experiment continues. 10,000 words and climbing.

Thanks for stopping by,


Thursday, June 28, 2012

I LOVE blue aliens...

I admit it, I have a thing for blue aliens. When writing my alien romance stories, I could choose any other colored skin to give my extraterrestrial heroes, but I always wind up making them blue.

Blue is a relaxing color for me. It’s the color of my office, of jeans which I love to wear, of my bed sheets, and of the sky. Isn’t it relaxing to simply stare up into a clear blue sky?

But blue can also mean sadness and vulnerability. All of my blue aliens are vulnerable, afraid of not being accepted because they are so different from the women they long for.

And maybe I find blue to be sexy as well. ;)

It’s no wonder the alien heroes in Celestial Seduction, Satin Sheets in Space, and An Unexpected Return are blue. It’s my comfort color, and it makes them less scary for me.

Here are some excerpts from my stories that have blue aliens:

Celestial Seduction:

(celebrates one-year book birthday on July 1)

He smiled, some of his confidence back while his human image flickered for a few seconds before completely disappearing. Unsure what to expect, she tried not to judge until she’d set eyes on his entire figure. Long, spindly fingers intertwined with hers. He tried to let go, but she held them tight. His body appeared taller and leaner than before. She saw the same black eyes, a less prominent nose and barely visible ears. His hair became jet black and appeared longer and curlier than before. Underneath luminescent scales, his skin shone a light blue.
“So, what do you think?” His mouth quirked, revealing his uncertainty.
Except for their color, his lips were the only thing that didn’t change. She leaned towards him, wondering if they would still feel the same. She had to stand on the tips of her toes to reach him, but wrapping her arms around his neck helped. The feel of his skin surprised her. Perhaps he didn’t have scales, but the pattern lay beneath his skin.
He’s beautiful.

Satin Sheets in Space:

She shivered at the sound of the deep, sexy voice. Spinning around, she gazed up at an enormous, captivating man. Very rarely did she meet a guy so much taller than herself. His black velvet justacorps fit tight across his broad shoulders, but not too snug. And the silk shirt lining his wide chest matched the color of her dress. Almost as if they were made for each other. I can only hope.
Flowing down his back, his long, thick, dark mane appeared to have feathers throughout. In the dim lighting, his hair, and even his skin had a faint blue glow. She couldn’t help but be enthralled by his presence; was sure she stood in front of him with her mouth hanging open.

An Unexpected Return:

Walking into the silky rear-end of an oroke, she came to an abrupt halt. The creature had been walking at a steady pace and then stopped. She’d failed to notice in time. Wiping fluff off her face, she turned around and walked into another hard body. “I’m so sorry.”
Hands clamped down on her arms. “Are you all right?”
She stared up into deep brown eyes. Chewing her bottom lip, she nodded. If this man hadn’t been holding on to her, she would have fallen to the ground. The word swoon held no meaning for her until now.
Am I only like this because of the eletin I inhaled back home? Or was there something more she found heart-racing about the blue-skinned, well-muscled hunk of an Otarian who held her up?
No, she couldn’t feel anything for him. Their races had been sworn enemies for years. Everyone across the galaxy knew that. Yet here she was, standing face to face, gazing intently at him, with no will to move.

Friday, June 22, 2012

It's the SFR Brigade Mid-Summer Blog Hop.

I’ve been thinking a lot about seasons recently, but not just that. I've also been thinking about the movement of planets and how the alignment plays a role in not only the way people act, but the way it could affect other worlds. Things like tides, and the length of the days and nights, have been on my mind. I’m writing a planet bound story that will be science fiction romance when finished. Everything in this story revolves around the seasons and the ability to grow crops to sustain an expanding population. In yet another story, the planet is affected by the rotation of the world and the moons off-world, called the Three Sisters. The homes are in tidal areas, buried under oceans at night and on the beach during the day. The reason: Nocturnal humanoids that are cannibalistic hunt the land at night and cannot swim. Because of their translucent skin, they don’t tolerate the light from the radiant star and therefore living under the oceans at night in dome-shaped houses and living on the surface during the day is a matter of survival. In another story every major event is planned and timed by the seasons for religious reasons.
In writing these stories, I went back to my primitive roots, where man worshipped, planted his crops, and harvested by the phases of the moon and stars.

Not only did he track the stars, he built monuments in celebration of the heavens. There are markers all over the world from Stone Hinge to the Great Pyramids of Giza to the Pre-Columbian star observatory in South America.

What does someone from another world think when they look up at the stars? How do the seasons govern their lives? Here is an excerpt where one possiblity came to mind. 

Excerpt of Moon Crazy:
Jace cracked an eye. Warm morning starlight streamed in through the glass behind him. The light illuminated Tara. She looked so innocent while asleep, and truth be told, he could watch her for hours when she was like this, but it wasn’t safe. Sometime during the night, he’d made the mistake of drifting off in her bed, and was damned lucky she didn’t wake up first.
She’d had a room built into her dome, just for him, when he came over on occasion. After they’d had their fill, the idea was he went to his room to sleep off the night, until the ocean receded and it was safe to leave.

Her eyes fluttered open and stared back at him. Beautiful aqua irises glowed in the light. Their almond shaped, accentuated with a thick fringe of lashes. She silently studied him back,  her lips slightly parted and swollen from her activities the night before. Her platinum hair practically glowed around her like a halo, taking his breath away. How he missed waking up next to her. It had been a long time since he’d spent the night in her bed, and this time, only by mistake. A smiled tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Perhaps she wasn’t upset about him staying in her bed. There always was a first for everything. No reason not to be social. “Good morning.”

The heel of her palm struck him in the breastbone, sending him reeling backward off the tall platform, all flailing arms and legs, tangled in the sheet. Jace hit the floor with a thud. “What the fuck.”

“What did we decide about you sleeping in my bed?”

“That’s a little harsh for a man who rocked your world all night.”

“That’s why you have your own room.”

He sat up and rubbed the back of his head. Yeah, that. Tara may be human, but she’d taken up residence on this world after relocating for employment, and had adopted the moon-crazy attitudes of the locals. The solitude suited her and she didn’t like to share. Anything. Beds. Blankets. Body heat—if she actually had some.

Quadraxians lived in domes beside the ocean and in the shallows. Every night the tides came up and anywhere from fifty to a hundred feet of water would cover the domes. During the full phase of the Three sisters when they were in alignment, the domes remained covered for several days, but that was never an issue. Each home was self-sustaining. Special processors extracted air from the oxygen rich sea water. Fish-like creatures were the principal diet, but many Quadraxians had indoor gardens that thrived in the miniature biospheres too. They could go for years without coming out of their domes if necessary, and Jace surmised that could be the reason for their moods. Who wouldn't lose it trapped in a dome for extended periods?

The domes were only the tip of the Quadraxian homes that sometimes bored into bedrock several levels below the surface. Tara’s had three levels. Her bedroom she kept above ground—his below. The sides of her home were wrapped with glass while the top was made from a concrete like material that was stronger and lighter than the Terran version and air and water tight when she shut the vents.

She had a room the level below, where she could free dive if she chose. Open to the sea, she need only jump in to go for a swim. Diving rooms were common accessories to a Quad’s home, as they were both avid swimmers and athletic. Since Quads had gills, Tara improvised with several breathing apparatus. She was never stranded or stuck, but then again she wasn’t stupid. Nobody went ashore at night.

The domes served two purposes. The first was protection from the violent storms that plagued the planet. The round shapes resisted high winds. Hail bounced off them and water washed around them and over them like stones in a river. They were also anchored deep and created in a manner that they were air tight and submergable. This was the other reason the communities were built on the oceans and beaches.

The second was to avoid the other residents of the world, carnivores, who were strictly nocturnal because of their translucent skin and inability to stand the light from the radiant star. And they enjoyed humanoid flesh. Terran, Quad, they didn’t care. They also couldn’t swim. Since light was coming in, he could leave now. Probably should.

Then again, the Three Sisters were full and everyone was a little batshit crazy. No one would blame him for using poor judgement.

Thanks for stopping by. Be sure to click on the button to be taken to other links for the blog hop, but only after you comment if you want to get in on the prizes. I'm giving away one e-copy of Rebel Souls, my latest science fiction erotic romance, released June 1st. One set of four Romance Trading cards that include, Rebel Souls, Courtesan Boot Camp, Seducing Liberty and This Endris Night. And one large size tee-shirt,  signed by me, of one of my erotic science fiction titles. So leave a comment and get in on the e-readers and book bundle the Brigade is giving away, and get a chance at one of the additional prizes I'm giving away. Tell me about what crazy behaviors you've heard people, or maybe even  you yourself have blamed, on the moon.

Be sure to leave an email so I can get in contact with the winners, and good luck.



Thursday, June 21, 2012

Beneath the Starry Sky is FREE!

Hey! I just wanted to let you all know that BENEATH THE STARRY SKY will be FREE on all Amazon Kindle sites starting tomorrow, June 22, until Tuesday June 26, 2012. This story is a contemporary romance, not sci-fi romance, but it does have a hero who is a former sci-fi television star, and characters who make guest appearances in some of my other stories.

Beneath the Starry Sky:

Left at the altar with bald patches on her head and her self-confidence stripped away, Tamara Johnson must pick up the pieces of her life and face her Alopecia Areata, the autoimmune disease causing her hair to fall out. She is convinced no man will date a bald woman and arranges a one-night stand through Madame Evangeline’s popular service, 1Night Stand. With her new wig held firmly in place, Tamara arrives at the Castillo Hotel in Las Vegas for a night of passion and pleasure. Anything more than one night would mean exposing her bald head, and she will never do that to any man again.

Running into the Castillo Hotel, away from the paparazzi constantly at his heels, Josh Summers wants to spend his next few days locked away from the flashing lights and screaming fans. When he finds an incredibly sexy woman lying on his hotel room bed in nothing but lingerie, he thinks management has made a mistake. Leaving her behind, he heads for the lobby to get the situation rectified. But an unexpected text from Madame Evangeline sends him back to his room. Though unsure whether the woman on the bed is really his perfect match or just another fan believing him to be like his character on television, he knows he must find out, even if it means he must risk telling her his own secrets. If Tamara can handle his imperfections, she just might be his ideal woman.

You can download it for FREE starting tomorrow here:

Beneath the Starry Sky excerpt:

Shit! I cant go anywhere without someone getting out their camera. He raced with Tamara in tow, trying to keep her from the intrusive life he lived. He wasn’t ready to bring anyone into the spotlight with him yet.
But he had to get out of the hotel first. He unlocked his car and held the door open for her. Even when trying to beat the paparazzi, he still believed in chivalry. After shoving her inside a bit too roughly, he muttered an apology, closed her door then rushed around to the driver’s side. Throwing the car in reverse, he squealed the tires in a rush to get out of the parking garage. How much time did he have? He didn’t know, but if the paparazzi followed him, he’d have to pull some fancy maneuvers to lose them before driving to his destination.
They made it to the street before he was temporarily blinded by the first flashes. Tamara shrieked when someone knocked on her window, right before another flash of light.
Fuck! I have to get away from this, get her away from this.
Pulling onto the Strip, he expected them to stop, leave him alone. But another photographer jumped onto the hood. Josh closed his eyes so the upcoming flash wouldn’t leave him sightless and slammed on the brakes. The man flew off. He made sure the crazy paparazzo was out of the way before taking off. The last thing he needed was to be sued by some maniac with a camera.
When he’d finally made it off the Strip and onto darker streets, he released the breath he’d held.
“Who the hell are you?”
Her words were mixed with fear and anger. With a glassy stare, she waited for his answer. Would the truth ruin what could have been? If he didn’t tell her, she could Google his name anyway.
“I told you I’m an actor, or at least I was, and a former model. The show I’d been on for two years was recently canceled.”
Her eyes softened. “But why are people following you? Are you really that famous?”
He laughed. “Obviously not if you’ve never heard of me. But when you’re an underwear model, you get obsessive fans, and then I was on Searching For Earth on the sci-fi channel. Don’t you follow the tabloids?”
“No, I have better things to do, but I may have to start watching the sci-fi channel if all the actors are as hot as you.”
All tension from the encounter with the paparazzi diminished when he saw her smile. He reached over and squeezed her thigh. “Maybe you shouldn’t. They’re all known to be players.”
She placed her hand on his, making him want to touch even more of her. “Yourself included?”
He heard the playful tone of her voice, but he wouldn’t make her think he had a big ego. “Maybe at one time, but things changed after the accident. I’m sure you understand.”

Remember, you can download it for FREE starting tomorrow on these sites: / / / / /

And if you don't have a Kindle, you can download FREE Kindle Reading Apps for your PC, Smartphone, Tablet and more.

And don't forget to come back tomorrow for the SFR Brigade Midsummer hop where you can win a Kindle or a collection of sci-fi romance stories from over 20 authors, and more. DL Jackson will be posting here on Backward Momentum, and I'll be posting on my own blog:

Happy Reading!

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Writing The End

I'm in the middle of writing the last chapter of the second book in my Mark of the Stars series. And things are s-l-o-w-i-n-g down. It's been a long journey with this WIP (work-in-progress), as I wrote it three years ago, and edited and revised it many times since then. With this last round though, I decided to completely rewrite it. I've learned a lot in the last year, since I received my very first contract, and my writing style has changed a bit. I know I still have so much more room to grow as a writer, but I always have my mind open to knowledge.

So, I'm writing the last chapter, and where the previous two chapters seemed to jump onto the page, this one  is taking forever. My characters are indecisive, and aren't moving fast enough to the point where I can say my first (new) draft is finished. I know I have several rounds of revisions to go before the story is ready to submit, but why can't I finish? I already have another WIP started that I'm just as anxious to work on.

Does anyone else ever have this problem with big projects? How do you overcome the slow progression toward the end?

Maybe if I stare at my inspiration for my hero, Nathan Fillion, that will help.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

The Experiment

When I first started writing, I wrote romance novels. Great, big, fat romance novels. And they were wordy. I know that I’ve learned a lot by e-publishing, the biggest thing is how to tighten a manuscript. But with the good comes the bad. One thing I’ve noticed is that my stories have grown shorter and it’s almost impossible for me to go over fifty thousand words now.

I have this switch in my brain that says, done! There are a couple of reasons this has happened. The first is that my publishers wanted smaller stories, so I gave them what they wanted. The second is that by writing shorter stories, I have trained myself to write everything like a short.
This is a habit I need to break. Yes, it’s good that I know how to cram a lot into forty thousand words and make it work, but I need to work on pulling out of this to write a bigger novel. With ninety thousands words, I have a lot more detail I can expand on and I can only get there if I retrain the brain to embrace the detail. I can get into character backgrounds deeper, explore secondary plot threads fully, but the moment I start, that switch flicks and it says cut, cut, cut.

For the next six months, I’m getting back to my roots and writing a full novel. So far, it has not been easy. My brain wants to prioritize details so I can fit a smaller word count. If I’m going to break eighty thousand words, I need to break this habit. So, as I write this story, I’ll post updates on my progress.
See, I’ve noticed more and more people wanting longer stories. They love my shorts, but wish there was more of that world than I gave them. It’s a comment I hear often. I listen to my readers, everything they say, good and bad, and I won’t apologize for saying it is why I feel reviews are as much for the authors as they are for the readers. I’ve been called on that, and I’m still standing my ground. Reviews are helpful to the authors too.

I certainly can accommodate everything you're asking for, but I ask you to please be patient while I spin you a big ass story you can immerse yourself in. I’ve written one hundred and ten thousand word manuscripts before, but I’ve been writing novellas and small novels for seven years, and it’s a process of relearning how to expand.
This I will promise. It will have an unusual premise, that could happen, even on Earth. This will be an otherworld dystopian romance. You will see the same freaky world building you’ve told me you love in my stories. It will have high stakes (very high), and I’m packing on the sexual tension even though this will not be erotic romance. It will have sex scenes, but there will be less than in my erotic romances.

There will be some dark and scary stuff that happens. I’m taking my time building this relationship between my hero and heroine and it won’t be all fluffy bunnies and fuzzy kittens. As I said before, I’m an evil author and I’m putting them through their paces before I let them have that happily ever after. If you don’t finish reading it feeling a little bit freaked out about something happening on our world now, I won’t have done my job. My aim is to plant seeds of doubt and insecurity.
I have five thousand words and I’m off and running. A lofty goal to be sure, but I’m excited about this project. I’m in love with the premise and hell, I’m going to blow some things up. That in itself has me squealing.

Wish me luck.


Thursday, June 7, 2012

Spacemen and Motorcyles

Right now, I'm working on two stories. One of them is All Grown Up, which is the second book in my Mark of the Stars series, which is almost finished. The second is a completely new series which I've been thinking about for months. I'm not going to give away titles, but I am so excited about it.

Here's some of my inspiration for the new story:

Monday, June 4, 2012

Revealing Hamilton blog tour: Interview with author Sarah J. Carr

Welcome, Sarah J. Carr to Backward Momentum! Can you tell us about yourself? 

SJC: My name is Sarah. I’m 32 and I live in Washington State with my wonderful husband and adorable son. By day, I work in radiology billing and I’m a novelist by night. I went to college to become a massage therapist, interior decorator and I’m an ordained minister. In my spare time, I like to do sprint triathlons and splash in mud puddles.

Have you always wanted to be a writer?

SJC: Not always. When I was a child, I wanted to be a tightrope walker in a circus. Oddly, I’m afraid of heights. I have no idea what I was thinking.

What can you tell us about Revealing Hamilton? 

SJC: Here’s the back cover blurb to give you a taste of the story:

A conversation with a stranger changes Amelia Hamilton’s life forever. When she learns her grandfather faked his own death, normalcy slips from Amelia’s grasp. To make matters worse, he is coming for her in less than seven days. What she hasn’t determined is why.

Amelia’s grandfather, Marius Benedict, once headed The Physician’s Coalition, an elite group of doctors who threw the Hippocratic Oath out the window. Years ago, they used a low-risk medical research study as a front to their experiments. Without their consent, innocents were injected with JackRabbit7, a hazardous substance used to alter their DNA. The victims were left with less-than-desirable super-human powers or excruciating death. Years after he disbanded the group, Marius has a new plan and is reforming The Coalition.

Max, a mysterious stranger from the Insurance Agency, offers to help keep Amelia safe. He introduces The Agency as an underground government organization that contains and eliminates those who intend to harm the world. To protect The Agency, the truth of their activities are concealed and replaced with sugar-coated stories in the media.

Over the course of the next week, Amelia has to accept the truth and learn who can be trusted. At midnight on her 23rd birthday, a contract between The Coalition and The Insurance Agency will expire, giving Marius full rein to approach his granddaughter and finish the project he started with her so many years ago.

Which author would you like to meet most? 

SJC: It’d have to be Laurell K Hamilton and I actually met her in 2010. I’m not the type of person to be “star struck”, but I’ll come clean. I was fortunate enough to sit in the audience of a talk show and I met her during a commercial break. Instead of saying anything intelligent, a big “I love you” tumbled from my mouth. The studio audience expressed a heartfelt “Awwww”.

Do you have a favorite scene and why?

SJC: I do! Each time I read a particular part of the story my heart races and it grabs me as if I’m reading it for the first time. It happens when Amelia has a major “realization” and puts together some massive puzzle pieces. I’d elaborate, but I don’t want to spoil the surprise for anyone.

If you were to cast your characters in a movie, who would play the major roles?

SJC: Keep in mind, I’d need a time machine to adjust the ages accordingly, but here’s my vision: Amelia would be cast as Amy Lee from Evanescence, Max would be played by Michael Wincott and Nick’s a cross between Milo Ventimiglia and Adam Levine. Marius would be played by Christopher Walken and Donovan would be cast as the late Brandon Lee.

What’s the hardest part of writing?

SJC: Finding enough time to write.

What’s the easiest part of writing?

SJC: The ideas seem to flow non-stop so I’m never at a loss for words.

If you had to pick one song, which would fit your novel best? 

SJC: This is a difficult question. The playlist for Revealing Hamilton is 660 songs long. If I had to choose one of the 660, I would say My<Dsmbr (Mickey P. ft. Kelli Ali) from Linkin Park’s Reanimation album.

What’s are the craziest actions you’ve taken for research? 

SJC: A couple of weeks ago, I went on a tour of a morgue. If I need a character intoxicated, I’ll step in and drink and then write. Last go ‘round was tequila shots. Yuck! Also, Jeeping on icy trails at Mount Rainier made for some interesting (and realistic) writing.

List three things most people don’t know about you.

SJC: My middle name came from a naked doll my dad carried around as a child, I performed a wedding in rhyme (specifically, Dr. Seuss-style) and I’ve given a dolphin a vaginal exam.

Can you share an excerpt from Revealing Hamilton?

Something felt wrong.
In the living room, an ottoman rested on its side and a magazine lay open on the floor. A colorful article advertising Las Vegas blared from the pages. From the corner of my eye, the screen of Connor’s cell phone caught my attention. I watched it periodically blink, communicating new messages awaited. 
I went to the kitchen next and found the latest stack of mail on the island. The top envelope made me cringe when I saw the return address. It was another letter from the State of Washington. This one was addressed to Amelia Brooks.
My identity had been an issue for years. Since age 18, I submitted multiple requests to change my last name from my grandfather’s back to my parents. With each attempt, the paperwork came back denied, stating my name was Amelia Benedict or another obscure surname starting with the letter “B”. Double-checking each field, I clearly filled out the forms to read Amelia Hamilton, but was contradicted every time. I determined it a sick way for my grandfather to haunt me from the grave. The latest correspondence would have to wait.
A broken wine bottle and bandage wrappers were on the counter next to the refrigerator. Droplets of dark fluid created a path from the bottle to the sink, making me shudder. The room began to feel too warm and nausea flooded my stomach. I grabbed a rolling pin from the island, gripping it so tightly my knuckles hurt. 
“Calm down, Amelia,” I said. “There’s a logical explanation and no one is going to hurt you.” I forced my mind away from childhood memories of a basement.
Swallowing hard, I tiptoed across the living room to the bedroom. As usual, the door was cracked open. I held the pin over my head, ready to attack in an instant. From where I stood, I couldn’t see more than the corner of the dresser and a beam of soft light. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. A flashlight rested on the nightstand, pointed toward the ceiling. As I scanned the room, my jaw dropped and my heart paused.
“Connor?” I dropped the makeshift weapon at my feet. 
Where can readers find you?

SJC: My website is I’m also on FaceBook at and on Twitter at

Would you like to add anything else?

SJC: Thank you for interviewing me! I enjoyed answering your questions.

Thank you so much for visiting with us, Sarah!

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Two Releases In One Day

Whew, exhausted. But in the same token, I'm thrilled to announce two of my favorite stories are now available. One is part of the 1 Night Stand series with Decadent and it's called My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy. The other is a science fiction erotic romance, Rebel Souls, is also published with Decadent publishing, and is a love triangle.

So, to celebrate, I'm giving away a copy of My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy here on Backward Momentum. All you have to do is leave a comment to get entered.

For a chance to win a copy of Rebel Souls, visit me at Daily Dose of Decadence (link below) today, and leave a comment on my post, I'm An Evil Author, Hear Me Roar, and get entered in the virtual hat to win a copy of Rebel Souls.
So, how about some blurbage and excerpts?
My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy ~
“For my next number, I’m gonna play something a little more laid back,” a slurry voice rang out over the headstones, echoing through what was supposed to be a closed grave yard. A trumpet began to play. “Dah, dah, dum. Dah, dah, squawk.”
Grace bolted up. “What the hell?” Believing she’d been alone, she’d bared her soul to her brother, and certainly wouldn’t have had the conversation she’d just had if she’d known. She turned around three-hundred and sixty degrees, until her gaze landed on a mausoleum backlit by the moon. There, a man stood on the roof with brass to his lips, butchering Taps. In his other hand, he held a bottle of what was probably in the glass on Geordie’s grave.
Grace swatted the debris from her pants and stomped toward the mausoleum, irritation prickling up the back of her neck. She stopped at the base of the stone structure and glared up. “What are you doing here at three in the morning? The cemetery is closed.”
"Whoa, hot chick in the audience.” He swayed, threatening to fall off the roof. “Feel free to toss your panties up on the stage in appreciation.”
She clicked on her flashlight and cast the beam on him. “I suggest you get down from there before you fall, or I have to arrest you for public intoxication.”
He gave her a shit-eating grin. “You got handcuffs?”
“Oh, God,” she groaned under her breath. “Of course I’ve got handcuffs. I’m the police.”
He rocked and blinked his eyes. “You’re hot for a cop.”
“Thank you, I think. Now get down.”
“Okay.” He jumped, hit the edge of the roof, rolled off and dropped like a stone at her feet, doing it with all the grace of a bag of potatoes. Yet he’d managed to keep hold of the bottle and not spill a drop. He put the horn to his lips and blew, but nothing more than a raspberry came from the mouth piece. “For my next number, I’m going to play....” He looked up at her. “Any requests?”
“Yeah, tell me where you’re staying, so I can take you to your room.”
“Easy, girl. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

When Grace Daniels goes to the cemetery to visit the grave of her twin brother, she meets a soldier, there for the same reason, or at least that’s what she believes until he tells her about the blind date her brother arranged before he was killed in combat.
It’s the date of her dreams. Big band, brass and sass, Madame Eve from 1NightStand has set her up for an unforgettable night, a WWII swing dance party. Unfortunately she’s having trouble letting go of her past, and is afraid to take the chance given to her.
Sergeant Frank Winters is an Army trumpet player who travels with the Color Guard, a great dancer and six feet four inches of eye candy that could make her an addict. He’s also a soldier and soldiers can get killed. Grace doesn’t have the heart to lose someone again, but Frank knows a good thing when he sees it, and he’s determined to show her in one night, she’s got more to lose if she walks away.

Rebel Souls ~
Seth slammed his hand into the gel pad, releasing the lock to the hanger that housed Ava’s ship. The steel blast door slid open and Ava whipped around, her back to an engine compartment where she’d been working. A smudge of something black streaked across one cheek, and her hair hung loose around her shoulders. She wore a red thermal shirt, tan canvas pants, and black boots that stopped just above her knees, looking every bit the smuggler he’d fantasized about for days.
“What are you doing here, Captain Reynolds?”
There wasn’t a good answer for it. Plain and simple, he needed her, wanted her, and he’d be damned if he held back now. He strode up to her, grabbed her wrist, and tugged her into his arms.
Her fingers laced into his hair, and she tipped her face up to look him in the eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes, my crew is on leave.” Her gaze traveled to the hanger doors. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He watched the way her lips formed the words but heard little of what she said. Need pounded through him and only one thing would relieve it. Gods, he wanted her. “No.” No, he shouldn’t be. No, he shouldn’t kiss her. No, he wasn’t thinking about duty tonight. He dipped his head and captured her mouth the way he’d wanted to for the last three weeks, backing her against the forward drive. He tore at her shirt and the buckle on her aviator’s pants, desperate to touch her bare flesh, be inside her. His hands grabbed her bottom, and he lifted her from her feet and pressed her against the side of her ship. She wrapped her legs around his waist. With a gasp, her mouth opened to him. He thrust his tongue in and savored her flavor, needing more, starved for her.
Ava was everything opposite to the law he upheld, all he stood against, but it didn’t have to be that way. It wasn’t too late. He ran his hands up her shirt, cupping the bare breasts underneath. The pads of his thumbs grazed her nipples, and she arched into him, growling low in her throat.
He pulled his mouth away. “I need you now.”
“Take me inside the Avira.” Heat blazed through her eyes. “Or take me here. I don’t care, as long as you take me.”
“Good morning, Duchess.”
Born in the fires of revolution and baptized in the blood of those who fought for a better life, Captain Ava Frost smuggles illegal materials to a war machine that will someday free her people from an oppressive government...until her path crosses with a Regulator commander.
Seth Reynold’s mission is to find the dangerous cargo of fissile materials. When he stops Ava at a wormhole, his ethics and beliefs are compromised. Torn between duty and love, Seth is determined to find out what Ava is hiding, but her fiancĂ© is standing in his way.
Back from the dead, Brodie Mark—a leader of the revolution, a man that challenges Ava’s loyalties in every way imaginable—wants her back and will do whatever it takes to help her realize her heritage.
While falling for the enemy and endangering all that the underground rebels had struggled to achieve, Ava must make a choice between love and duty. But is she ready to sacrifice a freedom in its infancy for a love that comes once in a lifetime?
“No man flies three days to the edge of Nexian space without a reason.”

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Don't forget to leave a comment under this post for a chance to win, My Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy.

Have a great weekend!