Excerpt
A warm breeze ruffled the trees, and she glanced at her camera. The stupid tripod didn’t want to stay in place. She grumbled under her breath. Squatting down, she jiggled the tiny metal legs into the earth, hoping to steady it. A couple of rocks would help. She grabbed a few of the biggest ones and circled the tripod legs with them to keep it stable.
Hi, my name is Izzy Rizzo, I’m 25 years old and you can read all about me in Passion from the Vine by Shannon Casey. Of course she chose me as her main character because I have a story to share with the world. I think I’m pretty typical as far as the female population goes; I’m short, curvy, have long black hair and often feel self-conscious about myself, no thanks to most of the male population. But I’m not the “bash” male type of person, I’m more the bash yourself type and that is where my story begins.
Being Amy on shaky ground
So that’s me – Amy Aimee, which I’ve shortened to A. Aimee.
And here’s my question: How would it be to be unabashedly lovely and loving? How would it be?
How would it be to be unequivocally and amazingly lovely and loving? To just amp it up and pull all the stops out? And be that amazing something you know you already are? And not to be half-assed about it but to really let it out and let it fly. You know, your own natural, uninhibited goodness. Your own uncensored, spontaneous womanhood! Your unlimited potential for radiance and loveliness…
Stick to Your Romantic Guns
I recently had a conversation with fellow romance author Kait Ballenger, during which we discussed what it means to do just that: to write love stories for a living. More importantly, we shared the second-class citizen status we’re often relegated to by some literary scribes who consider what we do and create to be of lesser value and certainly not as challenging. We both agreed we wear our romance monikers with pride. We are in love with love and we’re not ashamed to admit it.
BDSM for Beginners: Do Not Try This at Home
Belphagor, the hero of Prince of Tricks, is a dominant demon. I will come right out and tell you that many of the sexy scenes in the book—both vanilla and kink—are exaggerated. You’re meant to suspend your disbelief—and hang on for a wild ride. I was going for somewhat over-the-top, because my demons are nothing if not over-the-top. That’s not to say, however, that there isn’t some realism to my erotica. Few things irritate me more in erotic fiction than BDSM absurdity.
Name Your Poison
Words never fail me. I trust them completely. I trace them with my fingertips on my upper thigh when I’m nervous. I draw them on my skin using a black BiC pen while stuck in traffic.
Words are my friends.
When I listen to the radio, I note any unusual words found in rock songs. Sting uses terms like “luster.” I drive and roll the word in my mouth—luster. In “I Will Buy You a New Life,” Everclear repeats words. I speak the lines like a mantra as the road unwinds in front of me.
But Jack used words against me. While I can write from one dark sky to the next, speaking those words out loud is a hardship. My tongue trips over the hurdles. I sprawl on the asphalt, knees scraped, palms raw….