Weekend Writing Warriors #18

wewriwa

 

Greetings everyone.  It’s good to be back. I was in the San Juan Islands last week and missed a Sunday. Can’t wait to catch up on all the fabulous stories unfolding over at the WWW Hop.  Due to awesome timing on my part, I was out of town when my book launch occurred, so my self-promotion has been spotty.  So, did you hear? Touch of Salar is now available at a fine ebook vendor near you!

On to the snippet!  I’m now posting from my recently finished erotic fantasy, To Catch a Threeve, which is sitting in my editor’s submission pile, so I get to chew my nails over this one for several more weeks.

To Catch a Threeve  (We last left Constable Axel Blackwood in the forest, aware that he is being stalked by an unknown presence)

Mint and meadow larkspur, a combination often used by hunters to disguise their presence from animals, stood out against the usual smells of the deep forest, alerting Axel to the nearness of the interloper.

Whoever tracked Axel was good.  The only reason the constable had noticed he was being followed was thanks to a protective spell he’d learned from the old witch Talesin. A web of magical energy alerted him when the same presence passed through it more than once. This particular, non-animal presence had crossed the web five times since last night. Tonight was the first time Axel had detected him with his ordinary human senses. He suspected his stalker was getting desperate. Tomorrow, Axel and Drummond would reach the fortress of Lord Thorburn and the opportunity for mischief would be lost.

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This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress. Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both. It’s a great way to discover your next favorite book. Click here or copy & paste this address: http://www.wewriwa.com

Weekend Writing Warriors #10

Greetings fellow readers and writers!  Well, I finished the first round of edits on Touch of Salar. The good news is that after spending an entire sunny Sunday inside hunched over the keyboard, I still love being a writer! The editing process was informative and it’s exciting work (I am such a writing geek).

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors. Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress. Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both. It’s a great way to discover your next favorite book. Click the link above or copy & paste this address: http://www.wewriwa.com

Touch of Salar

The fading aroma of night-blooming cacti still sweetened the air of the healing room. Clay ovens had been fired but a chill remained in the open-air space. M’lan was grateful, because the nightmare had left him drenched with sweat. He leaned against a marble column and basked in the rose-tinted glow of the sunrise. Morning was his favorite time of day, a fresh start, a new beginning. Every day, he channeled divine energy to mend fallen warriors. Every night in his dreams, as if he became a warrior himself, he relived the horror his patients experienced in real life.

His heartbeat slowed and he took a moment to clear his mind and prepare for the first patient of the day.

***

About Touch of Salar

Touch of Salar is a high fantasy, m/m erotic romance. In the kingdom of Rakkan, in a culture ruled by gods, mystical orders and magic, a young monk with the ability to channel the healing powers of the god Salar falls in love with a wounded warrior he knows only as The Major. Relations between the classes are forbidden, and things become even more complicated when the monk discovers that the man he is obsessed with is a king’s assassin. If M’lan is found out, he will be put to death, possibly by the Major himself.

Weekend Writing Warriors #4

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors.  Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress.  Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both.  Click the link above or copy & paste this address: www.wewriwa.com

(If you’re interested in reading what’s come before, Salar excerpts are collected in the Weekend Warriors Snippets category in the sidebar.)

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Curse of Salar

Timon was allowed to leave the palace to visit his dying father and had been gone for half a moon.  Mira was glad to see him but would never show any glimmer of what might be seen as special affection.  Any servant who displayed too much loyalty to him was sent away on some pretext or other, and Mira had been afraid that the story of the dying father had been one of these excuses.  He knew Timon was fond of him, and he also knew that he diligently reported everything Mira said or did to the premier’s watchers. He couldn’t blame him, that’s what he was brought to the palace to do.  The premier recruited servants from other kingdoms or from the rebel states, who had no loyalty to the royal family or any lingering superstitions regarding the divinity of Mira and Alandra.

“How’s your father?” Mira asked without preamble.

“Gone up the mountain to dance with the spirits,” Timon said, bowing slightly.

***

Curse of Salar is an m/m erotic fantasy novella, third in a series set in the world of Salar.  Prince Mira, along with his sister, is the last in the royal line of Jahar, a ruling family of powerful magicians. Mira and Alandra are held as virtual captives in their family’s own palace, kept alive to placate the masses of peasants who are traditional royalists and still believe in the fabled powers of the Jahar. Mira chafes under confinement and dreams of escaping.  Rayn Matisse is a soldier in the rebel army. He has no interest whatsoever in seeing the royals reinstated until he meets Mira and begins to fall under the prince’s magical sway.  Rayn’s people were cursed by the Jahar centuries ago, and though long thought to be a myth, the curse begins to assert its powers once again. As assassination and rebellion upset the false calm of the kingdom, Rayn finds himself torn between love and fear of the young man who possesses an uncanny ability to control him.

I Know It When I Read It: Erotica vs. Porn

I was recently having a discussion with a writer friend about my efforts to write an erotic novella.  I noticed very quickly that whereas I always used the term “erotica”, she always said “porn”.  It rankled me.  Eventually I expressed my enranklement and she explained that erotica is just porn dressed up in a more marketable guise.

I beg to disagree.  I believe that there is a significant difference between the two genres, though there is a point at the extremes of both where they overlap.  This is not a judgment call or anything to do with morality, but simply that, as a writer, I have no interest in crafting porn, just as readers of erotica and readers of porn have different tastes and come to the page looking for different experiences.

Pornographic fiction and erotic fiction share one major thing in common: hot, graphic sex.  It’s my opinion that while in porn the sex is the reason d’etre, in erotica it is the icing on the cake, sometimes the filling as well, but never the whole cake.

In porn, there is a setting; a roadside bar, an office, a castle on the hill. There are characters defined by easily identifiable labels; bored housewife, rebellious biker, lonely traffic cop.  There is a very brief set-up; bored housewife stops at seedy bar and meets rebellious biker.  There is action; hot, graphic sex on a pool table.  That’s it.  Erotica has these things as well, of course, and depending on the style of the writer and the subgenre, these elements are developed and complicated to varying degrees.  In erotica, the setting becomes a more richly detailed world designed to heighten the senses and provide both opportunity and challenges.  The characters become actual people that transcend labels. They have lives beyond looking for sex. They have complications and maybe as many reasons to avoid their destined mate as to jump their bones.  There’s not only action, but plot.  Here things really diverge. In porn, there is very little resistance between contact and coitus.  Readers of porn aren’t interested in watching characters overcome obstacles to be together. As a matter of fact, I’d guess the reason they prefer porn is that they are tired of obstacles and just want to have fun. Porn is lust at first sight. Complications, if they exist, involve questions like “how many bikers will this pool table support?” not “if I have sex with this stranger, will it be the end of my marriage?”

Essentially, erotica offers two major elements that porn does not: Romance and suspense.  By romance I mean a developing relationship at the core of the story.  By suspense I mean obstacles, doubts and delays that get in the way of the romance, or in other words, the grand human mess that is human intimacy.  Erotic fiction ranges from pure fantasy to gritty reality, but always, there is some element of that most delightful state of being: anticipation.  You might scoff and say there’s no suspense in romance because we know damn well who’s going to boff who.  Well, that’s just like saying there’s no suspense in your average mystery because we know the detective will solve the crime.  The suspense lies in the journey. What twists and turns shall we endure? What challenges will the lovers face? How often will their fatal flaws get in the way? Will X panic when he falls in love with Y? Will Y go back to her old boyfriend, or run away with Z?  It’s all deliciously complicated, frustrating, and if done well, arousing.

And speaking of sex.  Porn goes straight for the hot sex with a sprinkling of story on the side. In erotica, it is the story that makes the sex hot.  It hardly matters who does what with which parts, or how large or slippery those parts are. The reader has already slid beneath skin of the characters and ridden out the storm with them. The sex will be hot!

I believe that we all dream of that perfect mate, that awesome, mind-blowing connection with another human being. That’s what erotica offers that porn doesn’t.  The purely realized fantasy of love achieved, love expressed in its rawest form; hot, graphic sex. Dirty sex. Kinky sex. Sad sex. Angry sex.  There is physical bliss but there is also emotion. Doubt. Fear. Longing. Rejection. Joy. Erotica removes sex from the realm of simple fantasy to that of complicated fantasy. Characters in erotica earn their orgasms, by golly.

Maybe I’m splitting hairs, but in this world we market and shop in, labels are important. While I might click on a book labeled erotica, I’d never click on one labeled pornography.  So maybe my friend is right? Maybe it’s all just lipstick and fishnet stockings and fooling the search engines?

Call me a romantic, but I don’t think so.

Weekend Writing Warriors #3

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors.  Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress.  Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both.  Click the link above or copy & paste this address: www.wewriwa.com

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Curse of Salar

When Mira and Alandra were young they’d both harbored dreams of reclaiming the throne. She still held that against him.  The Grand Premier had convinced her it was more profitable to concede defeat and cooperate with her own exile from power.  Mira had been stupid enough to resist. Now he would never be trusted.

Hushed footsteps approached from behind him and a figure swept aside the silk drapes, allowing a beam of lantern light to cut across the marbled balcony.  Mira glanced over his shoulder and was surprised to see Timon standing there.  Timon was the latest in a string of attractive attendants the premier had sent to seduce and spy on Mira.

***

Curse of Salar is an erotic fantasy novella, third in a series set in the world of Salar.  Prince Mira, along with his sister, is the last in the royal line of Jahar, a ruling family of powerful magicians. Mira and Alandra are held as virtual captives in their family’s own palace, kept alive to placate the masses of peasants who are traditional royalists and still believe in the fabled powers of the Jahar. Mira chafes under confinement and dreams of escaping.  Rayn Matisse is a soldier in the rebel army. He has no interest whatsoever in seeing the royals reinstated until he meets Mira and begins to fall under the prince’s magical sway.  Rayn’s people were cursed by the Jahar centuries ago, and though long thought to be a myth, the curse begins to assert its powers once again. As assassination and rebellion upset the false calm of the kingdom, Rayn finds himself torn between love and fear of the young man who possesses an uncanny ability to control him.

Weekend Writing Warriors #2

This post is part of an ongoing blog hop hosted by Weekend Writing Warriors.  Every Sunday, participating authors post eight sentences from their current work in progress.  Then we hop to our fellow warriors’ blogs and check out all the fabulous fiction that’s happening! I heartily invite you to participate as a reader, writer, or both.  Click the link above or copy & paste this address: www.wewriwa.com

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Curse of Salar

Mira sat back on his calves and filled his mouth with the strong red wine, which he spat out into the clay pot. Then he stood, smoothed out his silken tunic and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.  He rarely had a moment alone, and usually he had to fake a rage in order to drive away the spying servants who dogged his footsteps.  Lashmi would soon be returning with whatever offering she deemed necessary to sooth his temper.

He wouldn’t be slow and confused at the dinner tonight, but he’d have to act like it.  Mira had become such a skilled actor that he could make a living with a traveling troupe of troubadours if need be.  Life in the palace, and the small degree of freedom remaining to him, depended on everyone believing he was a heedless wastrel, a spoiled figurehead content to waste his life in coddled luxury.  The only one who suspected his deceit was his sister, and that was only a suspicion, or so he hoped.

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Curse of Salar is an erotic fantasy novella, third in a series set in the world of Salar.  Prince Mira, along with his sister, is the last in the royal line of Jahar, a ruling family of powerful magicians. Mira and Alandra are held as virtual captives in their family’s own palace, kept alive to placate the masses of peasants who are traditional royalists that still believe in the fabled powers of the Jahar. Mira chafes under confinement and dreams of escaping.  Rayn Matisse is a soldier in the rebel army. He has no interest whatsoever in seeing the royals reinstated until he meets Mira and begins to fall under the prince’s magical sway.  Rayn’s people were cursed by the Jahar centuries ago, and though long thought to be a myth, the curse begins to assert its powers once again. As assassination and rebellion upset the false calm of the kingdom, Rayn finds himself torn between love and fear of the young man who possesses an uncanny ability to control him.