For our final day – Bianca Sommerland

For our final day of the tour, I’m delighted to welcome Bianca Sommerland. Her latest release, Deadly Captive is a really intense read.
You can get Deadly Captive here:
Bianca Sommerland was born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. When not reading neurotically or writing as though the fate of the world rests on her keyboard, she is either watching hockey or teaching her daughters the beauty of a classic, steel pony while reminiscing about her days in Auto Body Mechanics.
Her time is balanced with utmost care between normal family life, and the internal paranormal realm where her characters reside. For the most part, she succeeds. You can find her at
Okay, Bianca, I’m turning it over to you!
Magic and the Great ‘What if?’
When I’m writing, the question at the forefront of my mind is ‘What if?’ What if the prince is the bad guy? What if the heroine likes the ‘hero’s’ best friend…or whole team? What if the fate of the universe rest on the balance of the ultimate orgasm?
Okay, I’ve never tried that one, but you get where I’m going. Sorta.
Anyway, when you’re writing contemporary, your mind has to stick with logical ‘what ifs’. Your human male cannot have the tongue of a snake unless he is Gene Simmons (not but enough for my tastes, but I do have wet dreams about that tongue. Um…yeah, you don’t wanna know). He cannot hump you while simultaneously undressing you both. And condoms are a good idea unless the couple have exchanged shackles.
Add a dash of magic and the possibilities…*evil grin* there are things a character can survive with a spoonful of enchanted sugar that would leave lesser men hamburger meat. In Deadly Captive, the only reason there’s any kind of Happily Ever After (I’m quite liberal with that term, so don’t get your hopes up) is because I tore him apart and used the paranormal elements in the story to…ah, must spoil the ending. All I will tell you is the heroine is not left alone.
So the hero doesn’t die?
Now, I didn’t say that, did I?
Real life fiction is fun to read because part of you let your mind be fooled—let’s your mind believe that the events could happen. Probably won’t. But could. Fantasy, paranormal, Sci fi—these are all ways to escape. You don’t believe it could happen in your world, because you’re not in your world, you’re in another. And it’s either a real nice, or real scary place to be.
Here’s a short excerpt from Deadly Captive to give you an idea of what I mean:
With a slow nod, Cyrus lifted his hand and curved his fingers inwards. “Come here, Lydia.”
His eyes were beautiful, the blue of a cloudless summer sky. My fear dwindled. It was ridiculous to be afraid, really. He wouldn’t hurt me; he would give me everything I’d ever wanted. I climbed over Joe, craving Cyrus’ touch so bad my skin crawled with desire. I would go mad if he didn’t take me. I would die.
Joe wrapped his arms around my waist and jerked me back. “Start with me, Cyrus. Have your fun with me.”
“And make her first time easy, Joe?” Cyrus smiled, and my heart melted. He had lovely, luscious lips. “In return for what? Your cooperation?”
“No! Please—” I pitched forward. Joe hauled me up and dropped me on the mattress. I bit my tongue and swore as blood filled my mouth. Pain shattered the urge to rush into the arms of the man who’d used my suffering as entertainment.
 Fun, right? Imagine all the things someone could do to you with some kind of otherworldly power at their disposal. All the things they could make you do…
Thanks so much for having me, Gianna! Enjoy the last days of the tour, lovely people!
Thanks for coming by, Bianca. The lure of different worlds, with characters who have all sorts of ways to manipulate situations and people using powers beyond our own frail humanity is hard to resist. I’m sure many of us agree with that!
Okay folks, don’t forget to comment to be eligible to win – including that $100 voucher to Eden Fantasy!

Click here for the next blog on the tour:

And don’t forget to check out the Red Roses & Shattered Glass Anthology. 

Noble Authors Blog Tour – Please Welcome Justine Elyot!

I am thrilled to host today’s guest – Justine Elyot. If you’ve stopped by the tour previously, you probably know that Justine and I know each other from other parts of the online world, so this feels like a reunion of sorts.  Thanks for coming by Justine – I’m delighted to have you here today. Our two worlds crossing is a really cool thing – I’m loving this, and so glad we’ve had such a great year with Noble so far! I’ll turn it over to you and let you scare us silly now! 🙂 

“I’d like to start by saying hi to Gianna and her readers and thanks for the opportunity to be here. It’s funny, but Gianna and I knew each other from ‘another place’ long before we both became Noble authors, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to share a publisher with her!”
Introducing myself, I should mention that I’m Justine Elyot, a UK-based writer of erotica and erotic romance. My first novel, On Demand, was the last title to be published by iconic British label Black Lace and, while their withdrawal from the market was disappointing, I took some comfort from reaching the number one spot in the erotica chart at Amazon UK. I’ve written for a plethora of publishers and editors including Cleis Press, Xcite Books, Total E-Bound and Carina Press. My Noble book is called The Choirmaster and it’s romantic BDSM. Check out the gorgeous cover:
The theme on Gianna’s blog tour stop is magic and mysticism. I have to admit, I don’t know much about either – my tastes tend more to the contemporary/historical than fantasy/paranormal – but I have spent a lot of time in one of the most haunted villages in England, so I thought I might tell you a little bit about that.
One summer when my mother was five years old, she was playing in the cornfields at the back of her house when she noticed the figure of a man rising up from the golden ears of wheat. This wasn’t such an amazing sight in itself, but the fact that he was shirtless and his chest was green attracted her attention, as did the coronet of leaves in his hair. She raced off to tell her sisters, but by the time they came back, the man was gone.
Years later, she was reminded of her experience when she came across a picture of the man in a book about mythology. The caption identified him as Robin Goodfellow – a spirit whose appearance portended a good harvest. And, as it happened, they had a very good harvest in 1952.
The village where my mother grew up, in a fertile vale in the middle of England, famous for its lush fruit and vegetables, has more than its fair share of ghosts. A spectral horse and carriage are said to thunder over the crossroads just outside the village, while the manor house has its own ‘white lady’.
As children, our absolute favourite story was of the local ghost, or ‘spot loggin’, a man who was allegedly hanged, or murdered (nobody seems to really know which). Great Uncle Fred reported being chased by the ghostly figure as he bicycled past the church one foggy night, and we could never resist the temptation to go to the old well, near the tithe barn, and walk around it three times anticlockwise and three times clockwise before uttering the magic words that would call up the spot loggin.
The problem was, we didn’t know what the magic words were. My aunty Mary claimed to know them, but she wouldn’t tell us.
So he stayed in the well and we eventually grew out of our fascination.
When I visit the village now, the thing that haunts me the most is the distant view of Long Lartin maximum security prison, where the terrorists are held. I wonder if any of their ghosts will ever drift across to join the spot loggin.
Now that I’ve spooked you, I must ask you to hurry along to say boo! to Indigo Skye who is gracing my own blog with her presence –
Yeah, you certainly spooked me! But I love that village picture. I’m a bit of an Anglophile and long to visit England again someday. That pic just makes me more anxious! I’m a sucker for an old stone church, they call to me almost as much as the castles!
Thanks again for coming by Justine. The Choirmaster is a super hot read, I sucked it all down in just about one sitting, I couldn’t put it down. And I agree with you 100% – that cover is gorgeous!
Here’s where you can pick up a copy of The Choirmaster:
And don’t forget, Justine also has a story in the Red Roses & Shattered Glass anthology.
You can get your hot little hands on it here:
Don’t forget to leave comments and be eligible to win some super prizes. Make sure to stop by Justine’s blog as well and talk to Indigo Skye, the next stop on the tour. Clickety-click on the button below:

Noble Authors Blog Tour – Indigo Skye

Today, I’m thrilled to welcome Indigo Skye to my blog.  Indigo is a writer and photographer living in the American Southwest. Her first novel, Her Captive Muse, was released by Noble Romance Publishers in January. Her work has been widely published online. Last fall, her short story “True Confession” was published in the anthology Uniform Behavior. A full list of her published works is available on her blog, Indigo Skye: Ink and Art-
Here’s the blurb for Her Captive Muse. It sounds terrific – right up my alley, and on my TBR list!
When Brendan Delaney answered an ad for an artist’s model, he was looking for an easy way to earn some extra cash. But Morgan Roan wanted more than just a model. Soon, Brendan finds himself caught in a web of deception and desire, lust and betrayal—her captive muse. What price pleasure?
And in keeping with the magical theme for my portion of the tour, here’s a tasty snippet from Indigo’s book:
Chapter Three
The Magician’s Folly
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Morgan asked. She toked hard on the joint and passed it back to him.
“No. I don’t.” His voice sounded flat. No one had ever called him beautiful before. She’s just shining me on.
“I’ll show you. I’ll prove it.” She looked excited. An attractive flush of color bloomed on her pale cheeks. She rummaged through a huge, roll-top desk in the corner, muttering to herself. “Where the hell did I—oh, there it is.” She pulled out a small sketchpad and a box of oil pastels and brought them back to her chair near the hearth.
Brendan groaned. “Not this shit again. I’m off duty.”
“This is different. You don’t have to pose. I can work from memory.” The artist began to sketch without looking at him. Her talented fingers worked fast.
He squirmed in the chair as Morgan studied his face. A perfectionist—trying to get it just right. Brendan watched her as she sketched. He drank his Scotch and smoked the last of the roach. He stood to toss the butt into the fire.
“There. Done.” She ripped the page from her sketchpad and handed it over.
Brendan examined the drawing. He didn’t recognize himself at first. It’s not me—or is it? She’s drawn me just as I am, and yet . . . .
Something about the sketch made him look twice. The way she portrayed his compact, wiry strength lent beauty and nobility to his features. He looked like a young man with a bright future ahead, rather than an aging fuckup with a past. He glanced up at her. Did she mean for him to keep the drawing? He’d been kicked out of his apartment—he didn’t even have a wall to hang it on. He tried to hand the drawing back, but Morgan waved it away.
“It’s yours. Keep it.”
“This is how you see me?” His hands shook as he studied the picture.
“It’s one of the ways I see you,” she said. “It’s the way I see you right now—in this light—after a few glasses of wine. The next time I look, I might see someone else entirely.”
Brendan couldn’t stop looking at the sketch. Instead of a tumbler of Scotch, she’d drawn him with a crystal ball in his left hand. She’d scrawled a title below her signature: “The Magician’s Folly.”
“A magician? I wish.” He laughed.
“You’re more powerful than you know, Brendan.” Her indigo eyes stared straight into his soul. He shifted in his chair and tore his gaze away to look down at his hands.
“I should get going. I’m late.” He stood up and got a head rush. Too hot. Shit. I think I’m gonna puke. His head spun and his stomach roiled. God, I need a fix. Could he shoot up in the bathroom? He wanted to get off—but he couldn’t nod out here. Gotta stay sober enough to drive over to Chad’s and score some more skank. A river of sweat ran down between his shoulder blades. I have to get out of here. Can’t let Morgan see me like this. He struggled to navigate the stuffy room on unsteady feet.
“Wait—you shouldn’t be driving. You’ve had a lot to drink.” Morgan put a hand on his arm.
“I’m fine. I’ll be all righ’.” Brendan said, slurring his words a little.
“No, you won’t.” She touched his face and framed it in her fingers. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. You can sleep here. There’s plenty of room.”
Brendan hesitated at the doorway. “You don’t mind if I crash here? I don’t want to put you out.” He didn’t want to seem too eager—but he was almighty sick of couch-surfing and sleeping on park benches.
“Of course I don’t mind. Stay.”
The thought of sleeping in a real bed tempted him, but he tried one last time to refuse her hospitality. “No. It’s too much trouble. You got better things to do than babysit a drunk.”
“It’s no trouble at all.” She waved away his polite words as if she were like a cloud of mosquitoes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I should go.” He turned to leave and stumbled over his own feet.
“You can’t drive—you’re wasted. You’re staying here tonight.”
He knew it was useless to argue. Morgan was a woman who’d grown accustomed to getting what she wanted. Brendan guessed the challenge of the hunt was half the pleasure of any conquest for a woman like her. He resolved to play hard to get.
“Since you’re staying, would you like another drink?”
He shook his head. “Could I just have a glass of water? Please? I got cotton mouth.” He felt woozy from all the booze, and Morgan’s skunky pot.
“Strong stuff?” She smiled and laid a cool hand on his arm.
“Lie down.” She led him to a loveseat beneath an open window. “I’ll be right back with some water.”
The cold air felt good on his face and revived him a little. Brendan took off his leather jacket and dug through the pockets until he found the last little bit of his smack in its bindle. Could he shoot up? No time. Shit. He tipped a pile onto the coffee table and snorted it. The glitter-gold aura of poppy-bliss embraced him. Smack, for fast, fast relief. Brendan laughed under his breath. He bundled up his jacket, folding it into a pillow of sorts. The first warm wave of his buzz washed over him like a benediction.
Morgan returned with a glass of water. She sat beside him and stroked his hair back from his face. Her fingers felt like cool water against his fevered skin. She fussed over him, replacing his lumpy jacket with a soft pillow. He sipped the cool water with a grateful sigh and turned his head to catch the breeze. He could smell wood smoke and darkness. The north wind foretold winter’s coming chill.
“Thank you—feels good.” He closed his eyes. He was almost asleep when Morgan leaned over and kissed him goodnight.
“My room’s at the end of the hall if you need anything.” She nibbled on his earlobe, then pulled away. He reached for her, but she ignored him. She stood and crossed to the door. “Sweet dreams.” Her pale form dissolved into the darkness, leaving Brendan to wonder if he’d imagined the whole thing.
I cannot wait to read this, I’ve got chills, in a good way, and am salivating to see what comes next. Thanks for that taste, Indigo!
You can find Indigo on the web here:
And here’s where you can get your hands on Her Captive Muse-
Here’s a link to Uniform Behavior-
In addition, the Red Roses & Shattered Glass Anthology features a fantasic story by Indigo. 
Remember, we’re giving away some great prizes, so leave a comment for Indigo, or a question, or anything else!
You can meet up with Bianca Sommerland over at JS Wayne’s blog. Click the button to continue along the tour route!

Noble Authors Blog Tour – Word Wizardry with JS Wayne

Today, I’m delighted to welcome JS Wayne, my guest for this day of the Noble Authors Blog Tour. Check out the awesome poem he wrote, I’m seriously impressed. Talk about multi-genre talent! And don’t forget to leave a comment for JS to be eligible to win some awesome prizes!

Born in Amarillo, Texas, J.S. Wayne has lived, worked, or traveled in approximately two thirds of the North American continent and has amassed a resume that could kindly be described as “eclectic.” He currently resides in the Texas Panhandle with his wife, a vicious attack cat, and a terrier puppy who believes socks are a threat to national security. In his laughably sparse spare time, he enjoys reading, scary movies, strategy games, and collecting obsolete weapons. His professional writing credits include two current novels, Shadowphoenix: Requiem and Wail; a short story, “Angels Would Fall,” which has been contracted by Noble Romance Publishing and was just released April 18; and a host of poetry and work-in-progress novels and short stories, including a nascent graphic novel with artist extraordinaire Bill Fish, who created the covers for J.S.’s first two novels, his website, and took the photos J.S. uses for various publicity needs. He maintains a home page at and a blog at
Word Wizardry
Dreams and visions are my stock in trade
Cryptic runes and sigils flung into the cold blue fire
Of the magick mirror through which I see and am seen
Building dreams of romance and nightmares of horror
Erotic meetings in shaded places and lust in broad daylight
Lover and warrior, I mix phials and filters
With the mortar of language and the pestle of my mind
Every phrase, word, and letter fraught with meaning
Text, context, subtext, and back again
To form the picture in the mind
Denying sleep, laughing, as I create that
Which will stir the heart…or freeze the very marrow
Flinging my magick webs and spells
To make you laugh, weep, shiver, or tremble
With these bizarre little squiggles I force your reaction
A game of chess as foreplay and your emotions the prize
A modern-day Merlin, robed in black
Sending new imaginings to produce a new idea
A new view of the world.
If I succeed only one time, with only one person
And my words reverberate with that soul
Long after the grimoire, the tome is closed
Then I have succeeded to my satisfaction
At the sorcery I weave for your entertainment and edification.
Seems a little over the top, doesn’t it?  But it’s true, in its own, admittedly melodramatic way.
Writers create magic.  From the basic building blocks of language, we create entire universes and destroy them just as readily.  We give these universes Gods, people, laws, and form.  The people that we engender in these worlds of the mind live, love, grow, suffer and die as we see fit.  And in doing so, we have the potential to wreak very real changes in the people, and hence the world, around us. 
Take as a basic, cookbook example the stressed-out banker who goes out after work and picks up the bloodsoaked horror novel he’s heard so much about.  The next day, he might have gone smooth out of his mind, purchased a rifle, and gone into work the day after that shooting.  But because he found catharsis in the horror novel and the demented little fantasies worked out there, he feels a little bit better.  He doesn’t beat his wife or kids or drink himself into cirrhosis and a coma at thirty-five.  Instead, he lets fictional characters bear the brunt of his frustration and irritation.  Maybe he even experiences a sea change in his perspective.  Would anyone argue that the seven, fifteen, or thirty dollars he spent on that novel was money wasted, given the potential outcome if he hadn’t found that outlet? 
Another example is the woman in a position of power, who finds that all her subordinates, and even people on her level, find her offputting simply because of the title she holds.  She may be as hot-blooded and passionate as any woman, but she feels like she can never let on because she’s afraid that by doing so, she may compromise the power she wields.  So she goes home and in the privacy of her own office/living room/bedroom downloads that hot new erotic romance novel she overheard a couple of the girls talking about by the water cooler.  Losing herself in the imagery and the tacit permission to be sensual that such a work offers, she allows the passionate side of herself to surface.  She might even place a phone call to someone who reminds her of the hero and who she would never have dared to approach without the catalyst of the feelings the book stirs in her.  A good time is had by all, a new love blossoms, it is hoped, and she goes to work the next day glowing and a little easier to be around.
These may be somewhat extreme examples, but the reality is that a million stories like these are acted out daily.  Stories, fantasies, and books that they read change them.  They learn something new.  They consider a different point of view.  Maybe they even go so far as to make a fundamental change in their life. 
What all of these have in common is that somewhere, at some time, someone sat down and put together words in a certain manner to convey a specific mood, concept, idea, or emotion.  The way they did it resonated with these particular people in such a way as to force a conscious change in their thought process, mood, or feelings. 
Okay, you may ask, this is all very intriguing, but what’s so magical about it?  After all, people write things all the time.  I write out a grocery list every week, but it has never inspired any life-altering event for me.  What’s the difference?
The difference is very simple, but to explain it, we must first set a working definition of magic to properly place these events in context.
Donald Michael Kraig, the author of Modern Magick: 11 Lessons in the High Magickal Arts, defines magic as any change in a person or their environment which is occasioned by will, using means not currently understood by Western science.
But wait!  Science tells us about brain chemistry and function and how these affect our thought processes.  So we already know and understand why we feel what we feel at a certain time.  No need for some half-baked Gandalf wanna-be to wave his wand and make us feel something different. 
Perhaps.  But the point is that the writer’s creation stimulates the reader’s brain, oftentimes without their even being aware of it.  We literally create the world we desire, and in doing so, in a very real way, we change lives.  And if that isn’t magic, then I don’t know what is.
I want to extend a very warm thanks to Gianna for letting me take the stage here today.  I can’t wait for next time!
Until then,
J.S. Wayne
Thanks JS! I can’t wait either! 🙂  Here’s the cover of JS’s latest release, Angels Would Fall:
Isn’t that a gorgeous cover? Definitely drool-worthy! lol   You can get Angels Would Fall at Noble Romance Publishing:
JS also has a short story in the Red Roses & Shattered Glass Anthology:
You can purchase the anthology here:   There are some seriously hot stories – you don’t want to miss a single one!
Check out what Cherie De Sues is up to over at Bianca Sommerland’s blog. Click the button below to continue on the tour!

Updates and Catching Up

So as usual, I’ve fallen behind in posting – it’s been a very crazy, busy month. Between the day job escalating, not to mention a tradeshow in Chicago, and the kids’ spring sports schedules heating up, my days and weekends have been jam packed. We also have the start of dance competition season, one down, two to go (one this weekend) before Nationals this summer. And to top it all off, another day job business to Vegas next weekend. I’m hoping things will settle down a bit for April, because there are some very big things happening that month.
To start off, the Noble Romance Authors Blog Tour kicks off next week, April 5, 2011, to be exact. It’s going to be a blast – nine of the hottest Noble Romance authors will be spending time visiting each other blogs, talking about our books, writing, and all sorts of fun things. There will be excerpts from recent releases, as well as some really awesome prizes.
In conjunction with the tour, Noble Romance is releasing an anthology comprised of six short stories by the authors on the tour. Entitled Red Roses & Shattered Glass, the anthology will b e released on April 4, 2011, just in time for the tour kick-off. My story, titled Bound for Love, involves the reunion of Nina and her master, Zane. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Here’s the cover, another amazing job by Fiona Jayde. She just keeps blowing me away with every cover I see.
Of course, now I have some ideas for other patrons of Nina and Zane’s exclusive BDSM club, so I may revisit Secrets in the future. I’m looking forward to that, but not just yet.
First, I need to finish the revisions on my medieval capture story, first and foremost, a title! I’ve been on a pretty good streak in that area lately, but my usual lack of skill in coming up with catchy titles has kicked in and I’m at a loss for this one. After that’s done, my two-part “mini” sci-fi series will command my attention. Actually it already has, Vega and Merry have been quite vocal about being left in the dust for my other works, so I’ve been trying to work on that a little. And Vega’s brother Reygar is getting impatient for his story to be told as well. He’s a rather grumpy guy to begin with, so this is not sitting well with him. J
Anyway, keep an eye on this spot – starting next week, we’re going to have some fun around here. Then, when the tour has completed, look for some new regular posts for me. I have been preparing for a new series for the blog, at the moment, tentatively called “Focus On…”  My hope is to feature a different author/friend each week or so and talk about various things, not only writing and books, but other topics as well.
And join me in hoping spring will truly kick in very very soon!