Over at Dear Author, there’s a big discussion going on about stuff happening at RT. Nah, I’m not going to go into it-that topic has been done, done and redone. I have nothing new to add to it and since I can’t offer some brilliant new solution to make all peoples everywhere happy, I’ll save my brilliance for more things. Like talking. I’m very good at that when I want to be.

But there were a few comments made along the lines that people wanted erotic romance to be embraced so they shouldn’t be surprised if tacky and tawdry make an appearance.

Pretty much, I disagree with that idea. Am I offended? Nah. These comments came from people who are entitled to their opinions just as we all are.

I don’t think I write porn-somebody else may, and that’s their opinion. At one time, did I care more if somebody assumed what I wrote was porn without bothering to read it? Yeah. Do I now? Not so much.

Here’s why.

It’s a matter of personal opinion. Personal taste. Personal likes and dislikes. I’ve read mainstream books with sex so pathetically gratuitous, I couldn’t believe it was considered romantic by anybody’s standards. On the flip side, I’ve read erotic romances so hauntingly beautiful, it’s a frickin’ shame more people don’t give the genre a fair try-because trust me, the books they are missing out? For a romance lover, they are books not to be missed.

People referred to making the ‘lines between erotic romance and romance’ more defined.

Me, I have to wonder if it’s possible to make a hard, clear, defined line. Because it breaks down to personal opinion.

Erotic romance is going to have more explicit, blunt language and the sex isn’t ‘hidden’ behind a closed door.

Romance may or may not have sex scenes that may or may not be hidden behind closed doors.

The kicker, though, each of them have a romantic relationship that is supposed to take front and center-that romance is supposed to be the driving force. Erotic romance and romance, the intimate scenes should advance the plot.

They shouldn’t just be there to titillate.

I imagine we’ve all read books where the sex is just thrown in, almost as filler or because it seemed the sex needed to happen by page XXX or there needed to be soooooo many sexual situations in a book with this particular word count.

The shocking, blunt language that bothers so many doesn’t bother others-some consider it too graphic, too crude-but words have as much or little power as a person lets them have.

An example, back in the 1700s (I think-not entirely sure of my period references) the word f*ck wasn’t really considered a vulgar word, just one used to describe two people having sex.

Although, since I can’t be easy, that yucky C word does bother me and it bothers me enough that if I see it, I may just stop reading the book. Hate that word.

Others, don’t care. Others that write or read erotic romance don’t care. Others that don’t write or read erotic romance probably don’t care.

It’s a ll a matter of taste. All opinion.

Trying to put a clear and focused definition on something that can very so widely from one person to another just isn’t going to work. There are some people who’d be absolutely shocked at the level of heat found in any given romance-those who’d prefer nothing more than a peck on the cheek. That being the case, would we then need another clear cut line…well other than the genre lines themselves, inspirational versus non-inspirational, etc.

Trying to take erotic romance out of the romance genre just isn’t going to happen. It came in riding on one huge wave. Maybe the wave has leveled out, maybe not, but one thing I think *is* certain is that erotic romance isn’t going to disappear. Like any trend, it will be on top for a while, then gradually level off. But disappear altogether? I don’t see it happening.

Although my favorite season is fall, spring comes in at a close second. Last year, a late freeze wreaked havoc with all the flowering plants and trees in our neck of the woods. But this time around, everything has been spectacular. Tulips, lilacs, daffodils, you name it - even the dogwoods are prettier than usual.

The week before last my dh had to go down to the Smokies to do a workshop for the Wildflower Pilgrimage. This is an event that has been happening every spring for over 50 years. They have hikes, programs, music, all sorts of stuff. Charles had to do something in the morning and something at 5 PM…but in the middle of the day we managed to sneak away and walk up to Clingman’s Dome. I’ve been going there since I was a kid, and this had to be about the clearest I have ever seen the view.

We picnicked at the Chimney’s picnic area beside the creek, and then we took lots of wildflower pictures. It was such fun, and what a treat to be in the great outdoors on a warm, pleasant spring day.

The lilac photo is from my yard - the wildflower photo is taken in the Smokies. In that one picture you can see: yellow trillium (the big flower), the filldehead stage of Christmas ferns (the curly thing), wild phlox (the blue), Bishop’s cap (the tiny white), parsnip (the tiny yellow), aand white phacelia.
We saw some white trillium nearby as well.

So, with flowers as today’s theme - here’s what I want to know… if money was no object, what are the two flowers you would like to have in your house to enjoy every day?

I’m traditional when it comes to roses, and I love it when my dh brings me some. I also love orchids, and I have been looking at them at Lowe’s, wondering if I would kill one if I brought it home?!?!?

I’ll pick a name from all the posts today to win a box full of fun promo stuff and books that I brought home from the RT convention in Pittsburgh.

Good luck,
Janice Maynard

P.S. Obviously, the first and secod photos are the same… I tried to take one out, but something didn’t work… oh well…

If you’re interested in winning a gift basket from me filled with Hunter books and other goodies, you can go check out the diabetes auction that Brenda Novak is running.

You can check it out here-and make sure you check out the other items as well.

The winner of Anne Rainey’s contest is…

jganderson45

Joni’s comment started:

Yes, I had several crushes throughout gradeschool, none in highschool because once I found out they were either taken or too arrogant for me, my crush never fully bloomed and a couple co-workers over the years I worked as a secretary…haha. But the one I had a crush on for what seemed like forever started in the second grade when I attended parochial school and continued on until I moved away to another state after I married my hubby.

Joni, if you’ll email me @ shilohwalker at gmail.com  - I’ll get you hooked up with Anne.

Anne, thanks for guest-blogging and thanks to all the commenters!

HelenKay came clean-I need to do the same. Except I look even worse, because I didn’t almost leave without paying…. I did leave without paying for my books at RT.

Now wait…wait…let me explain. Ya see, the lights went out at the bookfair. Those of you who’ve been reading about RT know it was…uh…interesting. Renovation hell, I heard some people didn’t get their books, weirdness abounding. Me, I ended up sick as a dog and had to go the Immediate Care Center when I got home. It was just interesting.

Well around 2:05, the DH and I start gathering things up. He asks me what needs to go to the car and I tell him, making sure to hold onto the nice tote EC gave me. It had all the books I’d picked up from the bookfair for me. Eight or ten of them. I told him I needed to get in line to pay. We were gathering things up, he asked me how it went, blah, blah…blah…and bam. Darkness.

Total darkness. For about two seconds. Then all sorts of people are digging out their cellphones. We’re doing the same.

The only thought in my mind was, That’s it. I’m done. I was having trouble breathing, I had to pee, I missed my kids and all I could think about was getting out there. The fact that I had a huge tote of books on my arm escaped me. I’d been toting stuff around for four days-having a weight on my back just seemed normal.

So yes. I am guilty. I left without paying for books-however, I didn’t plan on that. I’ve already emailed to see who I need to pay for the books. Seriously, my Winona moment was so unintentional-a fluke. An aberration. And I am paying for them-just belatedly.

Hanging head in shame.

While some of us are away playing at RT, Anne’s graciously agreed to do a guest blog for us and guys, she came bearing a prize for one of you. To win, all you need to do is post a comment down below~I’ll draw a winner and post it here. Just a reminder, you do need to check back to see if you’ve won!

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Secret Crushes

Thanks so much for allowing me to hijack your blog for the day. It’s quite an honor!

I’m giving away a free copy of FORBIDDEN FRUIT at the end of the day, and will choose a winner from those who post a comment.

The interesting thing about writing romance is you can sort of change your own ending through your characters. It’s so much fun to take a situation in my own life, twist it around, dramatize it a bit and make it into the story I never had, but secretly wanted.

As a teenager, I always had my head in the clouds. I was a daydreamer. I grew up with three brothers and zero sisters. Plus, I’m the youngest. It’s a little like being an only child, with the exception of getting nuggies and teased on a regular basis. LOL I tended to go off on my own a lot and either dream about my future husband, or just imagine what it’d be like to actually meet Matt Dillon from The Outsiders.

Still, I wasn’t so much a daydreamer that I didn’t notice Rick B. He was so cute and oh so oblivious to my existence. The only time I ever spent with Rick was in my own imagination. And I did a lot of imagining let me tell you! Then one day I talked a friend into asking Rick if he’d go out with me. He said no. My heart was crushed! I had carved his name in the bench outside school. I’d scribbled his name all over my notebooks. I went to bed thinking of him and woke thinking of him. He was always in my head. Alas, it wasn’t to be. I graduated high school, found my real true love and moved on to better things.

From time to time, I do wonder what Rick might be up to. Did he age well? Did he get married and have kids? Did he go on to be a billionaire rock star or did he maybe end up in jail (he was sort of the bad boy of the school, lol). I’ll probably never know and that’s okay with me. Those girlish crushes are a thing of the past. I guess that’s why I find it so hilarious that my two recent releases, TOUCHING LACE with Samhain Publishing and FORBIDDEN FRUIT with Red Sage Publishing have a plot that’s some variation on secret crushes. I think my heart still wants revenge or something. LOL

I must confess it’s fun to play out those old wishes from my youth. It’s exciting to see the girl with the crush, get the bad boy who never noticed her. In my opinion, the best part of being a romance author is giving my characters a very happy ending!

So, confess! Did you have a secret crush and did you marry him? Or did he turn out to be the boy you never kissed?

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You can check out Anne’s site here.

Anne’s going to give away one download of her ebook Forbidden Fruit

The blurbs for the stories mentioned up above are below…

TOUCHING LACE:

Taking friendship to a whole new level…

Lacey Vaughn is tired of being dumped on by men. It’s clear she needs help in the ways of seduction. Over cappuccinos, Lacey shares her worries with pal Nick Stone. Being the good friend that he is, Nick offers to give Lacey a few pointers in the ways of sexual pleasure. From his first touch, Lacey forgets all about lessons. Now all she wants is more of his luscious body and skillful touches.

Nick’s craved Lacey for months. He’s done watching her waste herself on losers. It’s time she saw him as more than the dreaded good friend. He’ll do nearly anything to have the little spitfire all for himself.

But in order to get Lacey past her insecurities, Nick will have to put it all on the line—including his heart—and pray he doesn’t lose her forever.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT:

Veterinarian assistant Ava Sweet has lusted in secret after bad boy Luke McGiffin since high school. Years pass, but she never loses hope that he will come to see her as a desirable woman.

Then one day she overhears Luke scorning her. “Dr. Doolittle? Sexy? How can you tell when every piece of clothing she owns is big and baggy and ugly as sin?”

That’s it. No more of him treating her like a kid sister. It’s time to show the hunky roofer her feminine side. The plan? Step One: arrange a fake date right under Luke’s nose to drum up some jealousy. Step Two: let her best friend Jen give her a seductive, innocent-vixen, miniskirt makeover. Step Three: tempt Luke right out of his sexy jeans.

But can Ava handle a man with such strong appetites, or is she in over her head?

Thank you for guest-blogging, Anne!

**edited on Wednesday 4/23-contest is now closed.  The winner’s name has been drawn and will be posted tomorrow.  At this time, comments are now closed to prevent confusion and future spam attacks by stupid spam bots that love to spam the blog.  (Gee, I love spambots, can you tell?) - Shiloh

Man, I was supposed to be blogging on Thursday and guessed when I remembered…yeah, today. Between getting ready for RT and some mess with my website, my brain has been mush.

The past week has been an interesting one in blogland. Very, very. Stuff that had me either irritated, tense, or downright pissed-or all three. But then I was reading something over at Karen’s blog~and I blogged it about it on my own blog yesterday. However, this is the sort of thing that can’t be discussed enough.

It made me stop and think.

From Lulu,

In April 2007, a group of men pulled seventeen-year-old Du’a Khalil Aswad into a mob. They proceeded to stone and beat her to death, a supposed “honor” killing for allegedly falling in love with a man of a different faith. Several camera phones recorded the entire incident from the front row, and videos later surfaced online. One month later, popular filmmaker Joss Whedon expressed his despair and outrage at the misogyny in all cultures on a fan-run blog. “Because it’s no longer enough to be a decent person,” he wrote. “It’s no longer enough to shake our heads and make concerned grimaces at the news. True enlightened activism is the only thing that can save humanity from itself. I’ve always had a bent towards apocalyptic fiction, and I’m beginning to understand why. I look and I see the earth in flames. Her face was nothing but red.” The arts anthology Nothing But Red was conceived as a way to raise both awareness of the issues he spoke of, as well as money for the charity Equality Now.

Nothing but Red is an anthology that was put together in response to the ‘honor killing’ of a young woman, Du’a Khalil Aswad. You can read more about NBR here.

I hope the sun is shining where you are!  After 4 or 5 days of wet, gloomy weather, today is absolutely beautiful!  Hubby and I spent a little time on the Blue Ridge Parkway this past weekend.  As you can see from the pictures, there were heavy clouds, but it was still fun.

I “think” the pink flowering tree is a crab apple, and the other photo is Mabry Mill.   This particular shot of the mill is so famous that some states have even “borrowed” the image as typical of the perfect rural scene.  I found a book that showed tourist postcards which said things like “Greetings from Connecticut”, but the actual image is this mill from Virginia.  Pretty funny, huh!

Friday night we went to see “Peter Pan” at the Barter Theatre in Abingdon, Virginia.  The production was top notch, and the audience was mostly adults.  The Pirates and Indians had tons of personality and almost stole the show.  The whole thing reminded me of the wonderful power of childhood imagination…

This is going to be a busy week getting ready to go to RT in Pittsburgh.  It’s a great event, but lots of preparation before the fact.

Well, as promised, I am going to give away an advance reading copy (ARC) of my July release “By Appointment Only”.  I’ll get my hubby to pick a name from the list of posters.

Here is today’s question:  If you have ever seen a stage production in NYC or your hometown, what was your favorite?  And if you never have seen a major stage production, which one would you like to see the most?

When our girls were 6 and 10, Les Miserables came to our town.  The tickets were steep, and we debated long and hard about whether to take Caroline and Anne.  We finally decided to include them, and they loved it!  In fact, they both remember that night vividly!

Right now, there are three shows in NYC that I would love to see: Young Frankenstein, The Little Mermaid, and South Pacific.

So that’s your topic - either tell me something you’ve seen or something you would “like” to see.

I’ll draw a winner Tuesday night about 9PM.

Good luck!

Janice

P.S. Hope everyone has a good week…

>

Or Karen’s desk to be precise.  In my quest to get organized, I’ve neglected my desk.  This is the hub of my connection to everything in cyber space.  (I write on my laptop so it’s strictly for writing).  But my desk is where my computer sits.  My desk has become a dumping station for anything I’m carrying at the time I walk toward my office.   Then things get buried.  Like my calendar that tells me where and when I’m supposed to be doing something–like blogging here today.  Except I didn’t unearth it until a few minutes ago.  So, now I’m here.

But I did begin to wonder if I started cleaning right this very minute, what else would I find?

Papers.  Lots of papers on how to do promo, craft, a letter I started writing to my aunt, a credit card bill—oops.

But what could be lurking beneath the mountain of papers?  Okay, you can turn on some haunting music right about now if you want more drama in all this. 

Or not.

The telephone!  I’d been wondering where the living room phone went to.  Ha!  My office, of course.

The hole punch. (It should go on the shelf behind me)

A box of tisssssss.  Oops, the box of tissue went over the side and landed on Sukie.  She so doesn’t look happy right now.

An Oreo!  How the heck did I miss that?  OHMANITSTILLTASTESGREAT!!!  I love soft Oreo cookies.  So much for the goal to watch calories today.  Does a month old Oreo lose calories?  Probably not.

Three spiral notebooks.  One can never have enough spiral notebooks. 

A mouse!!!!  No, not that kind.  It’s an extra one I meant to put in the garage sale.  I mean, really, think about it.  If the mouse had been real there wouldn’t have been an Oreo.  Duh.  Oh, what’s worse than finding a worm in your apple?  LOL  A half of a worm!  God, I crack me up!

And there’s a copy of Cosmic Sex.  Woo-hoo.  It must be extra since it’s on my desk.  Okay, make a comment on the blog and I’ll put your name in for a drawing.  Must be 18 or older and all that other contest stuff.  I’ll post the winner tonight at 10 pm central time if I don’t forget. 

Y’all have a great day!

Karen

I’m feeling lazy today. It’s Spring Break, I’ve had edits, I’m working on two books, and there’s a third whispering to me, so instead of thinking up a blog post, I’m taking the easy way out and posting an excerpt from my upcoming Samhain book, Hunter’s Edge. Releases in ebook in May.

How fricking classic-a vampire sleeping the day away in a cemetery.

If he’d had much choice, he would have tried to find someplace else, but choices were limited. The trucker had left him just outside Greenburg a little before dawn and with the clock ticking, Kel went for the first secure place that he came across.

Instinct drove him to get closer to Angel, but he hadn’t known where to look. As dawn crept closer, he had to focus on finding someplace dark and solitary. The private mausoleums in the old Greenburg Cemetery definitely fit that description.

He’d banked on being able to get into one of the older ones that didn’t get visits often and he’d been right. The one he’d selected had none of the stained glass windows and a recessed doorway.

Inside, with the door closed, it had been as dark as a tomb, just the thinnest sliver of pre-dawn light visible under the door itself.

As sweet, safe darkness wrapped around him, it took everything he had just to stumble away from the door and get one of the freestanding vaults inside the crypt between him and the door as an extra precaution.

Kel didn’t even remember getting horizontal. As enraged and scared and worried as he was, he’d thought sleep would elude him but it didn’t, hitting him hard and fast.

Normally Kel only needed four or five hours of sleep, but by the time he came awake a little before dusk, he’d been out for probably twelve hours.

The setting sun had kept him prisoner within the small crypt for a while longer. He shrugged out of his jacket long enough to pull on a T-shirt that he’d ‘borrowed’ from the trucker earlier. Killed a bit of time pacing endlessly up and down the stone floor.

Finally the sun set. His body recognized the moment it was safe. He slipped out of the musty, confining crypt with the sure and certain knowledge that he was glad his body wasn’t going to end up in some quiet, private resting place for all eternity. When he did die, he’d be burned and that suited him just fine.

Outside in the cool night air, he lifted his head and breathed in, letting the air wash over and through him, sweeping away the stink of decay.

The sound of a truck moving over the road had him retreating and swearing. It wasn’t that late yet, probably only around seven and he sure as hell didn’t need anybody seeing him here. Greenburg was a small town and Kel knew for a fact his face hadn’t changed a bit since he’d lived here.

He slipped into the tree line, his mind focused on finding Angel. But something, he couldn’t even explain what, stopped him. Physically stopped him. He couldn’t take another step away and everything inside him urged him to turn around. Unable to deny it, he turned and his eyes sought out the truck creeping along one of the cemetery paths.

It was a beat-up old Ford and even with his eyesight, he couldn’t quite see through the windows. But he knew.

Somewhere inside him, without even seeing her, he knew. He slipped forward, just where the trees gave way to grass and there, he crouched, one hand resting on the trunk of the tree, the other clutching the ring at his neck.

Hiding in the shadows, he watched, spellbound, as the truck came to a stop and the door opened. There was a fist wrapped around his throat, around his heart, and it wasn’t going to ease up any time soon.

It was her.

Angel.

~*~*~

Shi

http://shilohwalker.com