Twenty-Six Keys

The Rea Cheveyo Chronicles

2011-03-17T15:24:00.000-07:00

When I wrote the Rea Cheveyo Chronicles, I hoped that one day the three stories, Kiana, Talyss, and Reza, would someday be together in one volume. They are an intentional trilogy with one big story arc.

Writing an intentional trilogy was a challenge, but I'm so glad I did it. It was an incredible experience to live with these characters for the time it took to tell the entire story. I don't think I'm immersed myself as fully in any other writing project I've undertaken.

Finally, the Rea Cheveyo Chronicles are all in on place, in a megabook, and I couldn't be happier!

http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=53&products_id=570

Here is some information about the individual stories in the trilogy. For excerpts, visit my website at http://www.rayneforrest.com.

KIANA

Captain Ian Logan of Terra commands the most powerful starship ever built, the Rea Cheveyo. Adjutant Kiana ni Jamallan of Adonica is trying to escape the notice of her corrupt superiors. What she can’t escape is Ian’s notice. When an Adonican freighter goes missing and Kiana uses a mental ‘push’ to maneuver her way onto his ship, Ian seizes the opportunity to get closer to the lovely adjutant.

Unable to resist the advances of attractive, tempting - but human - Ian, Kiana risks the censure of her government. Enlisting Ian’s help to save a missing crew, she treads a dangerous path with her future on one side and Ian on the other. One misstep and she’ll lose both.

As their worlds collide, Kiana is forced to choose between fulfilling her destiny—or following her heart.

Buy link: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=347&zenid=0345949e1436c812e48011da038682e6

TALYSS

Talyss of Warlonah thought she knew what she wanted to do with her life. One look at Heath Douglas and everything changed. He thinks she’s a smuggler and her only option to safeguard the truth is to avoid him, but Heath follows her every move.

Captain Heath Douglas of the Rea Cheveyo has always had a curiosity about the feline-like Sheadonn. Spotting the Warlonah’s Glory far off the shipping lanes, he’s immediately caught in a cat and mouse game with that ship’s captain, the beautiful Talyss.

Matching wits, Talyss and Heath dance around the truth of her activities. Matched physically, they explore their passions. Taking Heath as a lover is Talyss’ right, but there is one truth she cannot escape.

As a daughter of Warlonah she must produce an heir—and not one with human blood.

Available now at: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=370&zenid=a0bcc893df7cd549c25e0fda4e6ac769
REZA

Reza Breen holds the key to unlock the secret to her people's exile on the little planet of Colony. The very name of the people, Yahto, means exile. Or does it?

Decimated by a plague of unknown origin, Reza, a healer, has fought to save the Yahto. Then an act of bravery makes her an outcast with an impossible future. Determined to save her people, she runs headlong into a sexy brick wall named Mick Coulter.

Michael ‘Mick’ Coulter built his career as a crack trouble-shooter. Assigned as the first officer of the Rea Cheveyo, Mick is in the niche he wants to fill until his military career ends in a few short years. Then he's promoted to captain. His first assignment—protect a beautiful, stubborn outcast bent on courting danger.

Getting command of the Rea Cheveyo is something Mick never expected.

Neither is Reza Breen.

Available now: http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=385&zenid=380100bb67b58128ea55d68f2724ae18

Available today - Step Into Tomorrow

2011-01-29T19:04:00.000-08:00

They say good things come to those who wait, and I've waited a long time to get this story to a worthy publisher. Enjoy!

Step Into Tomorrow
futuristic time travel/erotic romance
Rayne Forrest
available now at Amber Quill Press

http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/
StepIntoTomorrow.html

Rhys St. Clair is the best of a select group of highly trained time specialists. When events in the layers of time run amok, it’s his job to step through the Matrix and fix the problem. A mistake in his calculations sends him back to the year 1996 and nets him more than he ever bargained for – Sophia Townsend.

Sophia Townsend needs a life makeover. When a confused stranger shows up inside her home, with no idea of where he is, or even what year it is, it doesn’t take Sophia long to figure out the man in her living room is the most interesting guy she’s ever met, and the sexiest, too.

When Rhys whisks her away, Sophia isn’t sure if she’s been kidnapped, or if the handsome stranger is taking her on the greatest adventure of her life. When the truth catches up to them, Rhys has only one thing left to offer her – but only if she’s brave enough to step into tomorrow with him.

INTRO
“I could’ve done better.”

“No doubt. You’ve had practice. Now open that fancy atlas you bought and figure out where we can stop for the night, because we’re stopping as soon as it gets dark. I want off this main thoroughfare before we lose the light, too.”

Sophia gave him a surprised look then grabbed up the book and started rapidly flipping through the pages.

Rhys hoped she realized they would share a room tonight. And a bed. He couldn’t let her out of his sight. It was too risky. She’d bolt like the hounds of Hell were after her. Thank all deities she’d never see the real thing. They’d blocked the way out of the lower layers of time known as Hell.

The thought of being in a bed with her, even if he stayed on top of the covers while she was under them, brought his cock to attention. The memory of her beneath him burned in his blood. He wanted her, and he had five years to get her. Starting tonight would work out just fine.

“Oh, and find a place that has, um, what’s it called? Room service? I’m hungry.”

“Eat your crackers if you need food,” she shot back. “We can cross the state line and look for a place. Crossing the state line makes you a worse sort of felon or something.”

“Really? You mean I might become wanted by NASA?”

She groaned. “Why me? Why does it always have to be me? Why do I get the good ones?” She finally shifted in her seat to face him. “It’s the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Rhys. The F-B-I. Not NASA. NASA is the people who go into outer space. You know outer space. Isn’t that where you came from? Didn’t Scotty beam you down?”

His hands clenched around the steering wheel as he gave her the truth.

“No, beautiful. I didn’t come here from outer space. I came from the seventeenth layer of time. Oz.”

EXCERPT

Rhys had only one option. Well, two, but letting them arrest him wouldn’t work. What would happen when he vanished without a trace from a holding cell one bright, sunny day? He went back to the bed and crawled back under the sheet.
He had to put his arms around her one more time before he sent her back to her life. He gathered her close. “Sophie. Wake up, beautiful.”

She opened sleepy eyes and blinked. Gods, she looked like a woman who’d been fucked, and well, all night long.

He lowered his lips to hers and poured everything he had into the kiss. All the wonder of the night spent in her arms, all his longing for a life with her. All his regret.

She clung to him, returning his kiss with awakening passion and her own longing. He pulled away.

“Sophie, the authorities are outside. You need to get dressed and walk out of here like nothing ever happened. Tell them you needed to get away for a night, and you’re going home.”

Her face paled. “I won’t leave you! What will you do? Where will you go?”
“You have to leave me. I’ll be fine. I’ll go out away from civilization and put down a marker. Hector will find me and get me home.”

“I can’t go home! There’s nothing there for me.”

He hesitated. More than anything, he wanted to be with her. But what had to be, had to be. They had to go their separate ways. It was the only solution—for her. She deserved better than him.

“There’s no time and no choice. Go home, beautiful. Go back to your life.”

“No. We’ve got to think of something else.” She pushed him away. He mourned the loss of her touch, for his arms that would be empty for the rest of his life—without the chance to really know her.

“Don’t fight me on this. I’ve already done you enough harm. Forget about me. Forget you ever knew me.”

Step Into Tomorrow
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-051-1
futuristic time travel/erotic romance
available now at Amber Quill Press
http://www.amberquill.com/AmberHeat/StepIntoTomorrow.html

Rayne Forrest
Visit my website: http://www.rayneforrest.com
Read my personal blog: http://twentysixkeys.blogpspot.com
Check out the MySpace page: http://www.myspace.com/rayneforrest
Join my mailing list: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/authorrayneforrest
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Step Into Tomorrow

2011-01-23T03:20:00.000-08:00

Step Into Tomorrow. I wonder if I attempted to send myself a subliminal message when I settled on that title for my next book. Every book needs a title, and I prefer a title that has something to do with the actual story. Most folks do. The story has a time travel theme and requires a leap of faith for the heroine to stay with her man. Beyond that, don't we all step in tomorrow on a daily basis?

Step Into Tomorrow is set to release next weekend at the Amber Heat imprint of Amber Quill Press. I'm pleased to be associated with Amber Quill, which is a "by invitation only" publisher. The first ebook I ever purchased was at Amber Quill way back in 2003, and I quickly learned they were a cut above the rest when it the quality of the books they published. I hope that the Rayne Forrest brand will have a long association with Amber Quill Press.

Stepping into a new year, with a new publisher, has made me stop and once again seriously consider if it's time to launch a new author brand. I've learned so much, grown so much, that perhaps it's time for a fresh start. Author branding is something to think about. My older stories - Across Time, The Curiosity Shoppe, Truest Treasure, A Hero's Bargain, Mountain High, Under a Painted Moon - remain as good stories, but my voice as a writer has matured. I've pondered the question of a fresh start for a while.

If I want to explore some of the ideas for stories I have, it may be the way to go. It's always good for a reader to know what to expect when they buy a book from [fill in the name]. I don't think a Rayne Forrest reader would like to buy a Rayne Forrest book and discover it was something other than erotic romance. Say...inspirational. This is what I mean by author branding.

I guess I won't find a clear answer until I step into some more distant tomorrow. Perhaps like most other important decisions in my life, I'll simply wake up one morning and know. My continued musings on the subject probably mean I will start anew some day, but the right time to do so hasn't yet arrived. Know thyself.

While I search for the perfect path to take, I have the opportunity to work with some amazing people, for which I'm grateful.

So...next weekend, new book! If you'd like to read an excerpt, I invite you to visit my website at http://www.rayneforrest.com/StepIntoTomorrow.html . If you'd like to get on the Amber Quill Press mailing list, visit http://www.amberquillpress.com/AQP_newsletters.html to sign up. Or you can check back at Twenty-six Keys. After the book goes live, I'll be making the promo rounds on the blogs and such.

Until then, play safe.

Rayne

The Old South Mountain Inn

2011-01-01T05:56:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure what it means to when you start the New Year on an off note. Does it mean the entire year will be like that? I certainly hope not. Perhaps I need to discount last night as some sort of aberration, a sort of late visit by the spirits who tormented old Ebeneezer. Only the message isn't to mend my ways, but to look closer below the surface of reputation.

Being New Year's Eve, my beloved suggested we choose a very nice restaurant and go out to dinner. Even in this horrible economy we had a good year, so yeah, okay, I agreed we should splurge. We'd make the drive to the Old South Mountain Inn.

We won't ever go back.

Arriving early to hopefully beat the crowd, the first thing I noticed, or more correctly didn't notice, was reserved handicap parking. My beloved has a neuropathy, a lingering side effect of the chemotherapy he received five years ago. He doesn't walk well, and the parking lot wasn't even paved. It was a sign. There was not handicap ramp, either. He'd have to manage a few steps. We'd made the drive, so we went in.

The restaurant has a lovely glass-enclosed 'garden room' which was beautifully decorated. We estimated it could seat about one hundred, and it was about one-third full. The waiter (or whatever the PI term is these days) arrived promptly, and immediately informed us he wouldn't (wouldn't, not couldn't)split our check four and two.

Okay, we can deal with that. We ordered. My beloved and my stepdad ordered a beer. My beloved had to ask for a glass. One was brought. My stepdad wrongly assumed he'd get one, too, and had to send the waiter back for one for him. Is it just me, or IS drinking beer from a bottle at a [supposedly] five-star restaurant really acceptable?

Two of us ordered the same appetizer, sausage stuffed mushroom caps. Hollandaise? That must have been the caramelized, fried stuff in the bottom of the dish. Nasty.

I ordered a New York Strip, well done. My beloved ordered a fillet, medium. When dinner arrived, his fillet had been butterflied and was well done. My NY strip was bloody in the center, which I just can't... Okay, that's enough to ruin my morning coffee. I'm not that tough. I can't eat raw meat.

My beloved instructed the waiter to return my steak for a bit more cooking time. What was returned to me was a piece of shoe leather that didn't even have the same shape as the original steak. (I'm sure it wasn't the same steak.) It was burnt to a crisp. I managed to trim the outer edges and eat part of the center, but a very expensive ($28.00) steak was wasted.

We opted out of dessert and coffee, and fled to the comfort of home, our new coffee pot, and some cheap grocery-store brand ice cream. So went my fine dining experience at what is supposed to be Washington County's premiere restaurant. Our waiter did end up splitting our check four and two. Maybe he felt sorry for us. We did tip him, six bucks per person. I hope he's not required to share that with the "chef."

So here I am on New Year's Day, having to start the year off recounting a regretable experience. I'm happy for the owners of the Old South Mountain Inn that they don't need my repeat business. I'm disappointed I can't recommend them.

Next year, we're going to a restaurant where we know with certainty we'll get exactly what we pay for - Burger King.

Rayne

Giving thanks for changes

2010-11-28T05:53:00.000-08:00

As the Thanksgiving weekend draws to a close, I can’t help but reflect on the changes in my life over the last few years. There have been many.

Time marches on, and with the passing of my grandparent’s generation, my family has drifted into the busyness of our individual lives. To recreate the big traditional dinner we once shared is too exhausting to contemplate, so we don’t. I make myself content knowing that all but one of my family is in good health, and the youngest generation, while it’s unlikely I will get to know them well, are thriving.

Those around me in busyness, mostly at my day job, bemoan the same changes in their own families. If you’re one of the lucky ones with a good job, you’re working harder than ever just to tread water. And we’re told to get used to it, because the demand that we work harder and harder with fewer rewards is now the new norm. We’re older, but we dare not falter, not with pensions to protect.

I am thankful to have a job, no matter what it does to my mental and emotional health. I’m even more thankful to have my mortgage paid in full.

This year, the Thanksgiving table I sat at was not my own, and while the hosts graciously included my mother and stepdad, I was not among family. My partner was, and for that I am thankful, even as my soul was lonely for my own bygone days. The conversation swirled around me with chitchat about people I don’t know and have no connection to, all in that family world in which I have no history. But I am thankful they value me enough to include me at their table.

Trips down memory lane are counterproductive. With family scattering, and friends determined to run away from their lives to warmer climes, the years to come will see my Thanksgiving rituals be private ones. This I know, and to survive the holidays on my own, I will need to guard them well. I am thankful to have the strength to accomplish this.

But if just one thing in life is constant, it is that change is inevitable. Sometimes one is even thankful for those changes. The wheel may yet turn full circle some future day, and the Thanksgiving table I sit at will be among my own. I would like that, and be doubly thankful.

Life this Labor Day

2010-09-06T05:40:00.000-07:00

This Labor Day weekend is a mixed bag for me. I'm grateful to have a job, but concerned what will happen in 2011. I see changes on the horizon, that like this weekend, are mixed.

Being a holiday weekend, I stacked a few vacation days before and after so that I have six days in a row for rest and relaxation. HA! What rest? So far this mini-vacation I've met with my financial advisor, stacked firewood, weed whacked for my neighbor (I gotta get me one of those battery-powered things!), spread mulch, helped re-lay a walkway made with pavers, been to the grocery twice, tackled laundry, went on a bike ride, and in between it all, I've written (blogs count, right?).

This is rest?

The folks will be here this afternoon for a nice grilled dinner. Maybe I'll get to rest tomorrow. HA!

Don't be fooled. I am blessed. I have great health and energy, and I have family and friends around me, and they are basically healthy right now. I have two great jobs - helping people and writing. If the day job gets shaky in 2011, and we go to a four-day work week, that will give me more time to write. My home is paid for, and it won't hurt me to embrace a more minimalist lifestyle. I am truly blessed.

Not everyone is so lucky.

This Labor Day my thoughts are with those who work hard for a living, who save when they make enough to do so, who live modestly, and through no fault of their own have lost their jobs. Do the big boys with all the money who manipulated the rest of us into this crisis feel their pain? I don't think so, and that makes me angry.

Too many good people are struggling this Labor Day. I look at my own fears for the future - will I be able to continue to enjoy all the things I've worked for my entire life? Will I be able to actually retire some day? Would I be able to financially weather a health crisis? When will I have saved enough to be able to replace my eleven year old vehicle?

If I experience these fears, from my little sheltered tower, how much worse is it for those in the trenches? I can only imagine.

The future is clouded for a reason. In my life, I think it's to encourage me to live in the now. To embrace what I have. To let go of worry and to trust that a loving God will, indeed, see me through.

It ain't easy, but I'll continue to work hard at it.

To serve the future best

2010-08-29T05:55:00.000-07:00

It's been a long, hot summer. Is that an understatement? Depends on where you live. It's almost September, and it hasn't cooled off. I begin to think the snows of last winter are preferable. The heat sucks the energy out of a person, leaving the body listless but the brain overactive.

I've been grappling with what is a serious issue in a writer's life: What do I need to do to continue in this business? A straightforward question, but one with multi-tiered implications and few pat answers.

"They" say to be successful in epublishing you need to maintain a current Internet presence and promote. Let's face it. You can't spend your time on the Internet sucking up to everyone and still have time - and energy - to write something. Maybe I shouldn't mention this, but I've been a few places on the Internet that exhibit a decided lack of maturity, and therefore are not a good way to spend valuable time.

It's been a long process, but several of the epublishing houses have accomplished what I always knew would happen. The cream is rising. I have a very short list of houses I would allow my name to be associated with, which brings me to the thorniest consideration of all: The Name.

It's well accepted among authors that name recognition can run a course, and when that happens, it's okay to start over with a new pen name. Perhaps that has some merit for the Rayne Forrest name.

"Rayne" didn't know much when she started out. A smidgen of talent got her started, but she made a lot of mistakes. Her voice is stronger now, more confident. She has matured along with the epublishing industry. So how best to step into tomorrow without letting go of best things of the past? Those best things being a readership that appreciated the Rayne Forrest brand.

Thorny, yes? Insurmountable, no.

As the industry moves forward, so will I. Blending a past imperfect with plans for the future bright is something we all do every day. The past is a road map that shows us what works, and those pitfalls we stumbled into. Yes, it's too bad the map stops abruptly at our feet without showing us the next proper step, but that's what makes it interesting.

Have I allowed this internal debate to interfere with moving forward? Has it stopped me from taking that next step with fears of a misstep? Sadly, I think it has. But the need to share my thoughts tells me that a decision is at hand. I only wish I knew for sure what it will be.

All I know is that in my own personal life, the decision will come in the midst of doing something else. It will simply be there as if it had always existed, and I'll know it's the right thing for me.

Rayne

A new season

2010-05-19T12:17:00.000-07:00

1There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:
2a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
6a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace. - Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

When I stop moving, stop working, stop hustling and bustling around, these ancient words always come to mind. In typical fashion, I usually remember the opening in reverse, “for everything there is a time,” but I don’t think that matters too much. It doesn’t change the meaning of the words, or how I apply them to my life. Most recently, my life has seen a season of trying new things, and laying the groundwork for my last working years. A time to plant, as it were.

At a glance, those two things might seem to be at odds, but my life is one of polar opposites. Maybe it’s because I’m a Gemini. Anyway, I’ve gone through a time of serious home improvement work with new roof shingles, the installation of a central air conditioning system, and now a roof over my patio. All of this was done to ‘feather my nest’ in preparation of scaling back and working less hours. If the economy cooperates, it may actually happen.

It’s been difficult to be away from the writing, but it was important to accomplish these items without incurring any debt. I love to write! It defines who I am in ways nothing else does. Yes, I’m someone’s wife, someone’s best friend, someone’s daughter, but that defines me in relation to another. That I am a writer defines me to myself.

So, a season of hard work is behind me, one I don’t regret experiencing. I learned something every step of the way, which I consider important. I’ve eased into a season of taking better care of myself so I can once again tap into that central part of me and let the words flow. I’m more than a little excited at the prospect.

Where should I go first? What new characters await me? Can I attain the new goals I seek? I will if it is my season to do so. I’ve scattered so many stones along the way. It could be my time to gather them together and shore up old bridges even as I build new ones.

As exciting as it is to move forward again, it’s also daunting. The mistakes of the past, the ones that made it easy to set aside my keyboard for a small space of time, will always plague me. In the epublishing business, those mistakes were, and remain, visible. All I can do is set them behind me, and hope the lessons learned were not in vain. It is time to trust that the right people will come into my life.

And it’s time to trust that you are still there, waiting for a story.

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

Website fun, snowblowing, and a little success

2010-02-28T17:01:00.000-08:00

It's been a snowy winter at my little house in the woods. My beloved has kept track, and we've had a total of sixty-five (65) inches this season. That is far and above what is normal for us. Our usual total is maybe twenty, if we're lucky. Worse is that we've had the cold temperatures to keep what snow is on the ground from melting.

Is it all bad? No, of course not. The winter weather compelled us to finally break down and get a generator, which we will need, sooner or later. It also brought us a snowblower, albeit a used one. Being previously owned hardly matters because it runs good, and did the job during the last two major snows. Without it, we'd still be snowed in.

Does all this lead you to believe I've been writing? Yes! I have been writing. This is a good thing. I just wish I had more time to practice my craft, but real life intrudes. With my honey able to do less and less, more and more falls to me. Like going out in the cold and wind and using the snowblower. Sitting at my desk in my cozy, warm office would have been a lot more fun. I probably would not have come down with a cold, either. But I digress.

Being otherwise occupied, it's been a little while since I checked on my website. Today was the day I set aside to check on it, the mailing list, the blog, etc. So, here's my question. How can a website suddenly lose content? All it does is sit there on a webhosting server and look pretty.

Seriously. I clicked through the pages and found text missing. I opened my local software and the text was there. This makes me suspicious. I re-published the site, and all looks well, but that doesn't explain how it could happen. I intend to ask around and see if anyone else has had that problem, or if they've all dumped their paid webhosting in favor of free blogs. That is a thought worthy of consideration.

Now for a pat on the back - for me! Late last year I decided I needed to concentrate on my health. I'm not a sprout anymore, but a mature flower. Blessed with good health, I've not had a serious illness in my life - and I want to keep it that way.

To that end, I've made a conscious effort to eat better and exercise more. I'm delighted to report I've shed five percent of my total body weight. The "experts" say that's enough to stave off that metabolic disorder that leads to so many nasty issues. I'll keep going, but my program is geared toward better diet, not less food. Getting to that ten-percent mark won't happen until the weather warms up and I can get out and walk and ride my bike.

That's okay. I can't afford to constantly buy smaller clothes. Anyway, the program is working, and I'm happy with the progress I've made. And yes, I've enjoyed buying a few new (smaller) pieces of clothing.

So that's my update. Now, if I can just come up with a title, I'll get that story I just polished off.. or up...submitted.

Rayne

A Hero's Bargain by Rayne Forrest

2010-01-16T04:38:00.000-08:00

A Hero's Bargain by Rayne Forrest

Now available at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid
http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=482

When a poker game turns ugly, erstwhile gambler Ryder Vaughan runs for his life. After crash landing his ship on an unknown world it looks like his life will be a short one - until the lovely healer, Saba Duer, finds him and saves him. Smitten, Saba has no qualms allowing Ryder to seduce her.

In Ryder, Saba sees the coming of a hero to save her people. The deadly errol that has terrorized the Ramalho Clan for so many years has been spotted on a course that will bring it to the village. Ryder has a weapon that could destroy the creature. She strikes a bargain with him to secure his help. Ryder's not yet well and whole, but there is no choice. Saba has to let him go and face the truth -she's sent him on a mission to die.

Only Ryder has a plan and dying isn't a part of it.

EXCERPT from A HERO'S BARGAIN

“Have you pain?” she asked softly. He shook his head again.

“No. But I didn’t jiggle my back around.”

Jiggle? He must mean that he hadn’t moved the root nerve along his spine. That made perfect sense given her observations of him. She began folding the blanket that was draped across the foot of her bed.

“Let’s get this beneath you. Then you may have food.” She slipped an arm beneath his shoulders, helping him ease up. His face rolled against her breasts. He drew in a deep breath. She almost jerked away. Once he was propped up she dared to look at him.

His face was inscrutable. Too much so. She handed him the mug of thickened broth.

She should have poured it over his head for making her breasts feel so strangely. Her nipples tingled and itched. It was all she could do to keep her hands from rubbing them. The only thing that stopped her was the conviction he’d get some sort of perverse pleasure from the action.

“You wouldn’t deprive a dying man succor, would you angel?”

Succor, was it? She glared down at him.

“You are not dying. I’m on to your games now and you won’t be able to do that again.”

He laughed, a wicked, low sound that shivered across her nerves and teased her woman’s flesh to a tingling awareness of him. He took a cautious sip from the mug. Then another.

He drank it in rapid little sips as she watched. He had no difficulty swallowing and it appeared his stomach was not at all unsettled.

“Would you like a slice of bread?”

His gaze flicked up to hers. “You’ve been holding out on me? Shame on you, angel.”

“Is that a yes or a no?” She snapped at him.

He grinned. “Yes. I’d like a slice of bread.” He held the cup out to her. “Is there more of this?”

She snatched the mug from his hand and refilled it. “This is all there is for now. Would you like rettub on your bread?”

“Sure. Whatever that is.” He accepted the mug and began sipping again, slower this time. She handed him the bread and he dipped it into the liquid and took a bite. He repeated the action until the bread was gone.

“This is manna. Thank you. And thanks for rescuing me. I don’t know if I’ve told you that or not.”

“You did, but you do not have to thank us. Are you experiencing any discomfort?”

He shook his head and lifted the mug to his lips, draining its contents. “I can’t say as there’s any pain at all right now. I’d like to stay still and keep it that way.”

“I’m sure you would. But I should bathe you again.” She could get another look at his maleness. She was the healer, after all, and needed to have knowledge of many things.

“Oh, I think not. Call one of your minions for that. Get Tyree in here.”

“Tyree has more important things to do and I need to see how your wounds are healing. Some may need another application of salve.”

He gave her a calculating look. She refused to flinch.

“Angel, Tyree has nothing more important than a stranger in his village. Trust me on this one.”

“Tyree will ask for your weapons.”

“Tyree doesn’t know I have weapons unless you told him. Did you?”

She couldn’t lie. Her face would give her away. “No. I did not tell him. Not yet.”

“Why not? You should have.”

He was right and she knew it. “Tyree may be the headman of the village but he doesn’t know how to work your weapons. I would not have him examining them and injuring himself or others. You will show him your weapons in due time.”

He looked pleased she’d thought it through that far, his eyes lighting with amused respect. “You seem awfully sure of that. My weapons don’t belong here. I can’t let Tyree have them.”

She plucked the empty mug from his fingers and busied herself washing it. She had her opening. She couldn’t lose her nerve now. It was their only hope. She dried the mug and set it up on the shelf then turned back to Ryder.

“We need your weapons, and your help. If you agree to use your weapons to destroy the errol, we will pay you.”

His eyebrows shot up. His eyes darkened.

“Pay me, will you? With what? A ship so I can get back to my life? Tell me you have one. Lie to me, Saba.”

He had every right to be bitter over his circumstances. She understood, but his acerbic tone shocked her. She hadn’t considered anger. Anger could make him dangerous in ways nothing else would. Nonetheless, her mind was made up. It was her decision, be it folly or not.

“No. The coin I would pay you with is my body.”

A HERO'S BARGAIN
ISBN: 978-1-60313-668-6

Available now at http://www.whiskeycreekpress.com/torrid/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=482

Rayne Forrest
http://www.rayneforrest.com
http://www.myspace.com/rayneforrest

Rayne's Ramblings - How to cut a deal on a used tv for Christmas

2009-12-08T16:22:00.000-08:00

Time marches on. Christmas is almost upon us again. Didn't we just do this last year? There doesn't seem to be an escape from the yearly rut. My tree is up, and my house is decorated. Several presents are wrapped and/or bagged and under the tree. (I love those gift bags!)

With the economy being what it is, my beloved and I agreed to keep our spending in check. That lasted until HE saw a 42" Vizio television with a 120 ghz refresh rate in his price range. We've been together over fifteen years and I never knew the man could grovel with such style and panache. And effectively. Yes, I caved in and agreed we could get the blasted thing, PROVIDED I got the older flat screen for in the bedroom. I even agreed to split the cost with him since it could be his Christmas present. It's amamzing that three-hundred fifty bucks can get me a used tv....

I never saw him so eager to jump in the pickup and head for town. It was almost embarrassing. The man is sixty-one, for heaven's sake. (Yes, he robbed the cradle when he met me.) It took a lot of fast talking to convince him to wait and see if they go on sale just before the big day.

He whimpers well, too.

In other happy Christmas news, the die-T is progressing quite well. The new slacks that were snug a month ago fit fine now. But I have a new worry. My rings are starting to slide around a bit on my finger. No more wearing the good stuff for everyday.

Do my fingers type faster? Oh, he$$ no. I wouldn't be that lucky.

This year, as Christmas approaches, I'll have an edit to do on an upcoming release, "A Hero's Bargain." I'm looking forward to getting this story out. It's another science-fiction piece, and I like it. The story turned out quite nicely, if I do say so myself.

And this is enough rambling for one session. Check out the books to the right. I'll probably be letting my paid website go at the first of the year, so watch for this site to be updated with more frequency.

The new frugal is a bit of a drag, isn't it?

Rayne Forrest

PS. Don't forget to join my mailing list at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/authorrayneforrest so you don't miss the announcement about the release of "A Hero's Bargain."

Rayne's Ramblings: Diet is DIE with a T

2009-11-01T06:18:00.001-08:00

To say that 2009 has been a year of rest for me is probably understating the fact. The peaks and valleys of upheaval smoothed out, and gave me some peace. But like any good rolling stone, I haven't stopped long enough to let the moss gather.

Being an introspective sort of person, I constantly take stock of where my life is now, and where it is going. With those around me finally healthy again, this past summer was the right time for me to look at my own health. I've been making a few positive changes. Unfortunately, with free time scarce, it meant moving away from the computer, and, well, moving myself. Okay, it meant moving my ass. And my arms.

One of these days I hope to scale back the amount of hours I spend working outside the home. To do that, I've got to be firmly entrenched in an exercise routine. Yeah, yeah, you read it everywhere you go. I read it, too. But this was the year I took it to heart. And kicking, screaming, and begrudging every moment spent away from my writing, I began. And you know what? It hasn't been too bad.

Honest. I actually look forward to my walks. My upper body workout? Eeyyyyy, not so much, but I do it. Twenty minutes a day? I don't think so. I bust through the movements and I move on, but at least I'm doing them. Maybe some day I'll start to enjoy them..OR NOT..but I'm not giving up.

And diet? Well, diet is simply DIE with a T. You stop eating, you die. So that's definitely a one day at a time change, too. Some days, I do great. Other days, not so good, but it seems like I'm doing better all the time. The easiest thing has been eating at least one piece of fruit a day. As soon as I hop in my car to drive home from the day job, I munch on an apple. So far, they haven't outlawed THAT while driving.

Am I making progress? The last pair of slacks I bought were a size smaller. However, there is one drink I won't give up. Give up my coffee? I'll rip your hand off if you try to take my coffee away, but I can tolerate a fat-free creamer.

So, Rayne's rambling again. Perhaps. I look at the changes made this past year as positive steps for my writing, because they are positive steps for me. Feeling better, sleeping better (I've always been a champ at that), and eating better can only help me write better. That's my theory.

What's up next for Rayne the author? A science-fiction erotic romance entitled, A Hero's Bargain, coming early in 2010.

What's up next for Rayne the woman? Perhaps a wardrobe full of smaller-sized clothes. Wouldn't that be wonderful? It certainly would.

Rayne's Ramblings: The hokey-pokey

2009-08-29T17:34:00.000-07:00

This has been a productive summer for me. I used to wonder if the writing would get easier, and now I have an answer. For me, yes, it has. I’m much more relaxed about this business than I used to be.

Part of that is I don’t spend a lot of time out on all the lists, and groups. Maybe I should, I don’t know. Trying to do the personal appearances took a chunk out of precious writing time, so I think it’s a necessity that I limit time spent on the Internet. Does that hurt sales? I don’t think so. I believe that the best promotion is the best book you can write.

When I was first starting out, the prevailing wisdom said you had to promo at the review sites in their “live” chat rooms. I did it. Some review sites bragged of having hundreds of people show up for a chat. When I wasn’t headlining those events, I went as myself, not the author, and I never encountered more than twenty-three people at a “live” chat, even when some rather big-name, New York authors were there.

The prevailing wisdom said, “You must have contests.” So I did. I got to know those people who haunt the lists waiting for a contest. I don’t bother much with contests, these days. T-shirts, bookmarks, promo cd’s – all the little klitchy things. I did them all.

And nothing – absolutely nothing – makes any difference if you don’t have a good book.

If I have just one shot at giving any advice to a new writer, or an old one, for that matter, I make it this: Forget everything that fills up your hours with counterproductive activities, and learn, learn, learn all you can to make your writing better.

And a better story leads to greater personal satisfaction, and that, my friends, is the hokey-pokey of this business. That’s what it’s all about.

Rayne
http://www.rayneforrest.com

Rayne's Ramblings: Amazon being sued over hacking Kindles

2009-08-01T07:57:00.001-07:00

It seems I'm not the only person in the world who understands that what Amazon.com did by removing two George Orwell books from Kindle readers was hacking. Ugly hacking. The very thing Orwell wrote about. The very thing they arrest individuals for doing.

Okay - who at Amazon is going to jail?

A high school student in Seattle is sueing corporate giant Amazon for removing his copy of "1984" from his Kindle. Along with the book, Amazon stole all the notes he'd made as part of an advance placement course in which he was required to submit his reflections on each 100 pages of text in the story. He was 25% through his assignment when he was hacked by Amazon.

Pissed off? I don't blame him a bit.

Hacking is hacking. I bet George Orwell would agree.

Now I wonder if my books will "disappear" from Amazon's website. If so, Orwell saw it coming.

Challengers, refrigerators, men and romance

2009-07-29T10:27:00.000-07:00

I have a fascination with the headline news. Go ahead and call me a sucker, but things like, “NC sheriff’s deputy uses Corvette to stop speeders” grabs my attention. Personally, I’d use a Corvette to catch good-looking guys, but to each their own. But, today’s blog isn’t about Corvettes. Or the new Camaro. Or Challenger. It’s about refrigerators.

Say what? What does any of that have to do with romance? More than you think.

Labor Day weekend, 2001, just nine days before the world changed forever, we bought a new refrigerator. It was one of those side-by-side jobs with the ice dispenser in the door. Very nice. Very expensive, too, but neither of us had ever had a new refrigerator before. We come from modest backgrounds, and used hand-me-down appliances that still worked weren’t anything a can of spray appliance paint couldn’t spruce-up.

Well, our love affair with the big, black box in the kitchen went south in a hurry. My beloved and I came home one day to the thing spitting ice cubes out onto the ceramic tile floor. Not good. Even worse, three of the tiles had gotten so cold they cracked. The replacements aren’t a perfect match, either. We had the box repaired and moved on.

Before long, the freezer wasn’t freezing. We discovered the problem was in the electronics. If we unplugged it, and let it “thaw” out, we could plug it back in and it would be fine. At a couple hundred dollars a house call, the repairman doing what we could do ourselves was out of the question. I declared we’d have to live with it until the mortgage was paid off. My beloved agreed. We’d muddle through for a couple more years.

And so we did until last month, and the big, black box did it again. It was the sixth time in as many years, and my patience snapped. We went shopping and picked up one of those units with the freezer on the bottom.

Um, the romance part of this? I’m getting to it.

New refrigerators are ridiculously overpriced. I mean, really totally over the top. We almost decided to continue to endure the old one. I’m the one that carted frozen stuff up and down the basement stairs, and moved food from the ‘fridge to the cooler and then back. All he did was unplug the thing from the wall. If he could continue, so could I.

But then my honey, this balding, bad-boy ex-lead guitarist and two-time cancer survivor said he’d pay for the new refrigerator.

You might say, “and well he should,” but I disagree. For years, this man has been squirreling away his pennies for one last hot car in which to relive a small part of his youth while he can still have fun doing it. So instead of putting his money down on a new Challenger with a V8 Hemi, he plunked it down on domesticity.

Pretty darned romantic, if you ask me.

Rayne
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Rayne's Ramblings - I used to want a Kindle

2009-07-20T08:12:00.000-07:00

I wanted a Kindle. Let me count the ways I wanted a Kindle! Being of German and Scot descent, however, I couldn’t justify the cost when my trusty old laptop works great for reading. My laptop usually goes where I go, even to bed, but after all these years, I was ready to throw it over for something smaller and lighter - a Kindle.

Maybe not so fast…

I’m a sucker for the Yahoo headline news. Every time I log on, there are one or two articles I can’t resist reading. It’s so freakin’ easy to just click and go. But, I digress, again.

On July 20, 2009, the headline popped up “Pirated copies of Orwell books pulled from Kindle.” Okay, I clicked. It seems the Kindle shop offered Orwell’s “1984” and “Animal Farm” when they didn’t have the clear rights to do so.

Someone at Amazon asleep at the wheel? It’s not the first time, the recent de-listing of GLBT literature being another example of snoozing. (They “corrected” that problem, too.) Amazon pulled the stories. BUT… and you knew there would be one…BUT they also wiped the stories off of people’s Kindles.

And this is where they lost my money.

I don’t care that monies were refunded. What I care about is BIG BROTHER. The very thing Orwell wrote about. To my way of thinking, that’s a bit too much control being exerted by a company that borderlines on being a monopoly.

I’d like to know why they didn’t let the people who purchased the stories, in good faith may I add, keep them, and pay the Orwell estate and publishers the going rate royalty. Other than the fact it’s too easy to be high-handed and just show the world how powerful Amazon has really become.

And what of those people who paid for merchandise with those little temporary credit cards? Did they get their money back, too? I’ve always wondered how that would work.

I think I’ll stick with my old trusty laptop that stills works like the day I got it. Save my money for something really special, whatever that may be.

A rep at Amazon did say they were taking steps that in the future, if this situation occurs again, customers won’t lose books. That doesn’t ease my concern that a giant company thought it was a good idea to build a "rescind" feature into their device.

One more thing, and this if for all the epublished authors out there. At the end of the article, the AP acknowledged that digital libraries are growing rapidly. They also said, in a nutshell, that piracy has not had a “measurable impact on sales.”

Just whose sales are they referring to?

Oh yeah. Amazon’s sales. The little guy in the trenches hardly counts.

Rayne Forrest
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BOOKS COMING SOON:
Sexual Deceptions 3: Money Back Guarantee
A Hero's Bargain

July again

2009-07-09T15:34:00.001-07:00

July again. How did this happen? It seems like just yesterday it was March and the trees were bare. Now my backyard Eden is lush and green, visited nightly by fireflies. My beloved and I sit on the patio and laugh at the cat’s antics as he stalks them. Shooter seems to know it’s just a game to pass the time. Either that or he’s tasted fireflies and doesn’t care for the flavor. Who knows with cats?

After so many years of intense gardening, I’ve scaled back. The deer have won. We set aside a little patch of dirt outside the kitchen window and beside the patio for a daylily patch. I moved one of every variety I have into it, and it’s lovely. Looking out the window at that bright splash of color actually does ease the pain of being at the sink working. (I’m just not a kitchen person.)

I’ve been taking stock of my writing. My beloved’s battle with cancer took a lot out of both of us. More so him, of course, but almost losing him definitely altered my outlook on life. I set better priorities for myself, and the nose to the grindstone style of working is pretty far down the list. Earlier this season, as we sat on the patio wrapped in robes against the morning chill, he asked me if I planned to continue writing. It’s a big question, and the answer is yes, I do.

It’s time to forge ahead, get back in the game, not that I really left. I have more than a few completed manuscripts ready to go out the door. I hope my editors will be pleased to get them, but it’s always a roll of the dice.

The ideas never stop coming. I’ve seven concept folders started with bits and pieces of ideas, photos, and even one or two opening chapters. It’s time to pick one and starting composing prose.

First, though, it’s time for a bike ride with my beloved on this last day of my long holiday weekend. He has a new bike, you see, and even though it’s supposed to be a birthday present for a birthday at the end of this month, he has it now and can’t wait to test it out.

Life’s too short not to enjoy what you have.

Rayne Forrest
http://www.rayneforrest.com